разговоры

The success of our democracy is due to semantics...

2009-02-08T20:59:00.007-07:00

My favorite class this semester is Origins of the Constitution. It's more of a history class than a law class, which is really quite refreshing. Recently in class we were discussing the Articles of Confederation (the precursor to our Constitution), and I realized the main reason why the Constitution is so much more successful than it's forebear. Tell me, which of these sounds more impressive: This?

Or This?

Yes, that's right. Our Federal Union has been successful for over two hundred years because "We the People" sounds infinitely more impressive than "To All to Whom." I mean, can you imagine even a small pamphlet titled "to all to whom?" Seriously, who actually thought that could ever be an internationally revered document?

Language Barrier

2008-11-01T23:37:00.002-06:00

I am thinking about changing the language on the ol' blog here from Russian to English. While the only Russian you have to sort through is the blogger template stuff, and the links to view and post comments, those controls are a little crucial to the conversation, which is, after all, the title of this blog (or, the translation of the title--it's in Russian too, but that's not going to change). What say ye?

Civility

2008-10-26T22:18:00.002-06:00

I’ve been thinking lately about society’s problems. I actually do this quite a bit. It can be quite depressing, and is probably unhealthy, but I like to educate myself on what is wrong with our society, and what people think might help. My personal opinion is that community’s need to build more social capital and get citizens more involved in each other’s lives. This has all sorts of benefits, from improving the economy to decreasing the rate of heart attacks. For more info, and a fascinating read, check out Bowling Alone by Robert Putnam.

Social Capital, however is not what this post is about, but I suppose it is related. No, the problem that is lately on my mind is that of civility. More specifically, the lack of it. The problem manifests itself in everything from road rage to bullying. Most people seem to agree that our society is less civil than it was 20 or even 10 years ago. The other day, Kate was watching Oprah, and she was interviewing Dr. P. M. Forni on his book Choosing Civility. Oprah polled her audience and found that, while all of them think that society is more rude than it used to be, hardly any of them admitted, even anonymously, to being rude themselves. I guess the problem is that none of us think that we are the problem.

One thing that improves civility, I believe, is an awareness of other people. Most people, I believe, are generally nice to others when they recognize them as people. It is when a person sees another only as an “other” and not a person that rude behavior occurs. For example, when you cut someone off on the freeway, you aren’t thinking of that car as holding any people in it, it is simply a faceless car, like all the others on the road, and it is in your way. But when drivers recognize each other as individuals, they tend to be more courteous, to treat them as they would like to be treated. At least, this has been my experience.

Another hindrance to civility, especially in an election year, is our tendency to implement the “us v. them” mentality. In conversations with others, we can get caught up in our chosen “sides.” Republican v. Democrat, religious v. atheist, black v. white. We all tend to choose a side, and we all tend to root for our side. This is pretty natural. What is frustrating to me, however, is when we take it too far and we are more concerned with our side winning and the other side losing, our side being right and that other side being wrong than what is true and what is right.

I have especially noticed this problem in my discussions with others over email or on blogs. I’ve been getting a lot of political email lately, and a lot of it is full of “information the press won’t tell you about” and other proof that the other side is wrong, information that is factually inaccurate at best, and completely dishonest at worst. The senders of such messages are not concerned with their messages’ accuracy, but only its ability to reinforce their side and help their team to win. It seems that most politicians will do almost anything to win, and their supporters tend to emulate them.

Some of the email discussions I have observed or participated in have gotten quite heated, almost nasty. I attribute this lack of civility to people’s tendency to characterize their position as correct, and all who disagree are either ignorant, bigoted, possessed by the devil, or some combination of the three. Now there is nothing wrong with thinking that you are right--anyone who knows me knows that I think I am right most of the time (in fact, I am, but I won’t get mad if you disagree :) )--but when your right-ness results in reduced respect for or the dehumanization of another person, it has crossed the line. It’s a fine line, but I think most people can find it if they try--just stop the hate.

A lot of the problems with such discussions are due to the nature of the communication medium. Email and blog comments are only capable of communicating text, and much of the crucial meaning can be lost. Add to this the lack of good proofreading, and the speed with which people read and respond and you have misunderstandings waiting to happen. In the past few weeks I have had several discussions over email or blogs in which, I feel, preconceptions have clouded the actual messages. I have been accused of holding positions with which I disagree, simply because the other person has jumped to conclusions based on their previous impressions of me. Some think I am a heartless conservative, others that I am a bleeding liberal. I just can’t win. What’s a poor moderate to do?

And so I plead with you all: let’s be more civil. Add some respect to your interaction with others. There really is a living, feeling person in that other car. The email you just sent will be read by another human being. Before insulting their intelligence or heritage, think: did they really write what I think they wrote? Am I prejudging them? What would I think of this message if I were them?

If we just slow down a little bit, and recognize the humanity in others, we’ll all be a lot happier. I know I am right on this one. Anyone disagree?

Apparently, Sonic really stinks.

2008-10-16T22:31:00.002-06:00

A while back one of my coworkers took this photo. I'm not sure if it was a prank by an employee or just some kids in the area fooling around. Either way, it's hilarious.

This Old House (my version)

2008-09-28T21:13:00.014-06:00

Not long ago, Kate blogged about saying goodbye to the home she grew up in. Recently we took a trip back east so that I could attend a conference in Richmond. We went a couple days early to visit Maryland, where I grew up, and DC.

Kate had never been there before, and I was excited to show her my old neighborhood. I pictured it like it was in my memory, and thought it would be nice to get a picture of our little family in front of the house I grew up in. I was not prepared for what I found.

It looks pretty normal at first, but if you look closely, you can see that things look a bit overgrown. I was a bit concerned that it looked so vacant. Then I looked at the notice on the front door:

Yes, that's right, my childhood home is a foreclosed property. I checked with my Dad, and the name on the notice is the same person he sold the house to back in 1999.

The fence on one side of the house was gone, so we took a look at the back yard. I was astounded to find that it was even worse than the front.

Trees that I remember being about 6 or 7 feet tall look to be closer to 15 or 20. The trees lining the street are similar--in most places they meet over the middle of the road.

What made the whole experience quite eerie and not a little depressing, is the fact that nothing was different from when I lived there. The landscaping, while extremely overgrown, is almost exactly the same. We took a look through the sliding glass door on the porch into the kitchen, and all the wallpaper in the kitchen and the paint in the family room has not changed at all, right down to the wood paneling that we painted white. I suspect that if I were to take a tour of the house (it was locked and I didn't much feel like breaking in with my wife and child right there with me), I would find it to be 99% identical to the home I remember leaving right before my mission. (This, of course, makes perfect sense--if you can't really afford the home, you are not likely to be doing a lot of remodeling) The whole place looked like some weird Twilight Zone version of my childhood, one where I was the same person, but grew up living as a squatter in a condemned home in a blighted neighborhood.

The whole experience really drove home the current state of the economy (no pun intended). The housing market is a mess, and its sad to see such homes lying vacant with no one to enjoy them. The housing market has probably been building up for this kind of collapse since before my Dad sold the place. Fortunately, I think that our house was the only foreclosed property on the block, but I am sure that other neighborhoods are not so lucky.

When I was growing up, I never really thought much about the house. Mom and Dad talked about moving when I was younger, but we never did. I didn't understand why at the time. In my mind, our house provided all I needed, and it was in a great location--just up the street from my best friend. Why would anyone want to leave that? No, I didn't think much about the house itself, but I did value my home.

This is a great home. Its walls have experienced wonderful childhoods, incredible growing experiences, hours of violin lessons, hours of avoided practicing, formal Sunday dinners with the missionaries, and much, much more. But now it sits empty and dilapidated, a morbid version of its former self.

Having recently become a father, and looking forward to the time next summer when I take my little family somewhere to begin our post grad school life, a home is much more important to me now than it ever was before. I hope and pray that we can find as wonderful a place for our children to grow up as this house was for me. At the same time, I hope and pray that some family comes along and brings life back into my old house.

I know it's a fixer upper, and the neighborhood is not the best, but I know of a great house available in suburban Maryland, and it's probably available for a great price--especially considering the fact that it is ten minutes from a Metro station, and only a half-hour drive from downtown DC.

Mom

2008-03-16T20:56:00.003-06:00

I wrote this soon after my Mom passed away. I wrote it in case someone asked if I wanted to say anything at her memorial service. Fortunately, I didn't have to read it there, but I still want to share it, so here it is. The photo is one of Mom from 1964 or so.

1/24/08

No matter what I write or say about Mom, it won't convey the multitude of thoughts and feelings I have about her, and about her absence. When she entered hospice care, the idea of losing her prompted thoughts on her influence in my life.

The worst punishment for me as a child was to have my parents say they were disappointed in me. I hated the thought of it. I hated the idea of not reaching what my parents thought was my potential.

What strikes me the most right now, and what probably has affected me the most in recent years, is Mom's confidence and faith in my abilities. This got to be a little annoying during my first year of law school, when I would call her to complain about my classes, and how I felt inadequate and unable to perform at the level that I desired. She would tell me how smart I was, how I would get all A's, and rank at the top of my class because, after all, I was brilliant. While it frustrated me sometimes that she would say that, I was only frustrated because her words conflicted with how I felt about myself. I certainly didn't feel brilliant, and I wasn't at the top of my class.

Recently, as I have looked back on Mom's confidence in me, I realize that I can't remember when she started to be that way. Granted, my memory of early childhood is a bit spotty, but even then I remember Mom telling me how smart I was. I looked at some of my old elementary school report cards a couple of years ago, and my teachers didn't seem to agree. In fact, some of them even seemed worried.

Mom, on the other hand, was never worried. At least, not where I could hear it. While I am sure that she really did think that I was smart, I'm don't think she thought I was the smartest in my law school class. Regardless of what she actually thought, I know she knew the influence she could have as my cheerleader. I grew up knowing that no matter what I did, my Mom thought I could do it. My Mom knew I could learn to play the bassoon, so I did. My Mom knew I could learn to speak Russian, and I did. My Mom knew I could serve a successful mission. I did. My Mom knew I could study anything I wanted to in College, and I did. My Mom knew I could get over a failed engagement, and I did. My Mom knew I could get in to BYU Law School, and I did. My Mom knew I could find the love of my life and marry her in the Temple. I did.

I suppose Mom had me pretty well figured out. Anything she told me that she thought I could accomplish, I accomplished. Even if I didn't want to do it at first. I didn't want to play the bassoon, but I eventually enjoyed it. Soon after I returned from a mission, Mom suggested that I go to Law School. I told her I wasn't interested at all. It sounded like a lot of effort to put in to something that I didn't think I would ever use. 3 years later, I changed my mind. Mom was right. She was always right. She knew me better than I knew myself, and had a much better perception than I did of what I could accomplish.

I love you, Mom.

Pray

2008-03-16T15:47:00.005-06:00

Last week I came across this prayer, written by Eleanor Roosevelt. Apparently she gave this prayer every night. Even though I don't believe that prayers should be written down and repeated every day--or even every week, month, or year for that matter--I think that we can learn a lot from this one. It makes my 'bless us with safety' and 'bless this food to nourish and strengthen us' prayers seem a little immature. May we all pray for what we truly need, not just what we want.

Our Father, who has set a restlessness in our hearts and made us all seekers after that which we can never fully find, forbid us to be satisfied with what we make of life. Draw us from base content and set our eyes on far-off goals. Keep us at tasks too hard for us that we may be driven to Thee for strength. Deliver us from fretfulness and self-pitying; make us sure of the good we cannot see and of the hidden good in the world. Open our eyes to simple beauty all around us and our hearts to the loveliness men hide from us because we do not try understand them. Save us from ourselves and show us a vision of a world made new.

~Eleanor Roosevelt’s nightly prayer, from Mother R., by Elliott Roosevelt and James Brough.

It tickles my brain...

2007-08-19T20:11:00.000-06:00

The other day I came across my new favorite website. Mental Floss is one of the coolest web sites I have ever seen. Suddenly, I am able to satisfy my nearly daily craving for useless information. With a steady diet of this kind of intelligent-yet-pointless trivia, I shall be a veritable gold mine of useless information. Now even more people will think I am a nerd. The more stupid facts I accumulate, the more accidentally leak out in conversations. Hopefully this will not affect my relationships with anyone. The most important one seems just fine; My wife just laughs at me in that "I married such a nerd and I love him" way. Anyway, it's a great site, and you should definitely check out their t-shirts. I am coming seriously close to coveting them. (At least, I would if I ran in to anyone who owned one. You can't covet anything unless someone else already has it)

In other news, this is my first post in three months. At this rate, you all should hear from me one or two more times before the end of the year. It's not that I don't like you, it's just that I don't know if you are actually there, and I don't come up with interesting things to say very often.

Life is very good, which is probably why I don't say much. The only reason I am posting anything right now is that my Wife is at work, and I don't have anything better to do. Sorry, you're just a momentary source of entertainment. I suppose I may post more in the future, but school is starting up in a couple weeks, and 17 credits of law school tends to take up a lot of time.

Okay, fine, I'll bring you up to date. The summer has been good, I've been interning with the Provo City Mayor's Office. (I would link you to the website, but it's such a lousy site I am embarrased to be associated with it. I've been working on a new design, but it's not up yet) It's been a good experience, overall. It's been especially nice having only a five minute bike ride to work every day. And the Monday-Thursday, 10 hours-a-day schedule has been pretty sweet too.

Kate has been working hard as well, and is looking forward to quitting her job soon. She's starting her dietetics internship soon, as well as a masters in nutritional science. Both of us will be too overloaded to work much, so this school year should be nice and tight financially. But hey, that's what I signed up for, isn't it? Anyway, despite any financial worries we are both quite happy. Maybe we should pray to stay poor so that we stay happy. Okay, no. Bad idea.

My Wife's a Graduate!

2007-05-13T17:17:00.000-06:00

Yessir, that's correct, my wife is a bona fide holder of a bachelor's degree. I suppose she's a bachelor now, although most would consider that a misnomer. Not only is she married, but female as well. Ah well, that's only semantics, I suppose. Congratulations, Sweetheart!

Acts of God aren't covered.

2007-04-01T23:10:00.000-06:00

Alright, it's been a long time since I've written, but I have a really good excuse.

My laptop blew up.

I don't mean the the kind of explosion caused by a faulty laptop battery, but the kind caused by the impact of a celestial object. That's right, my laptop got hit by a meteorite. Apparently, meteor impacts happen pretty frequently. There was even an incident in Alabama in 1954 where a woman was hit by a meteorite after it came down through her roof and destroyed her radio. Fortunately, we don't have a hole in our ceiling now--I was outside when the incident occurred.

The weather has been so beautiful lately that I decided to do some studying outside yesterday. I was sitting under a tree, reading a textbook, when all of the sudden, my laptop, which was sitting about two feet away, explodes. At least, that's what it looked like. The fire didn't last long, and when it died down, there was a (relatively) huge hole in the middle of my laptop. In the middle was a small rock, about half an inch in diameter. It didn't quite make it all the way through, but my poor MacBook is toast.

I'm still pretty pissed about it. I just barely bought it last August. I even paid extra for the AppleCare protection plan. Yeah, don't waste any money on that. I called them last night, and apparently meteor impacts aren't covered. I argued with them for over an hour about it. It's not like I intentionally put my laptop in the path of a meteor. They said that, even though 'the incident' was not due to any negligence on my part, acts of God are not covered under the original nor the extended warranty.

So, I'm out a laptop. Maybe my wife will be kind and let me borrow hers for the rest of the semester. Again. Maybe I can sell the my blown-up MacBook on eBay. If people will pay for a grilled cheese sandwich with an image of the Virgin Mary on it, then surely they will pay a bundle for a laptop that got hit by a meteorite. As for the space-rock itself, I am definitely keeping it.

Taxes are not evil.

2007-01-28T16:45:00.000-07:00

This post just may be a sign that my public administration classes have affected me. Maybe.

This semester I have a Public Budgeting class, and a Government Finance class. Naturally, we've been talking about taxes, everyone's favorite. But wait, are they really all that bad? Sure they seem like a lot, but shouldn't you have to pay a fee to live in such a wonderful country? (if you don't think it's all that great, spend a couple of years in Russia. Sure, many people there may pay fewer taxes, but they also don't have any money) I agree that I would like to see taxes spent a little differently, but as far as I'm concerned, they're pretty necessary.

Several of the comments in my Government Finance class have focused on taxes that some of the students don't like paying, like property taxes. I thought it was strange, that people who are planning on public service as their career would complain about what we have learned to be one of the most efficient means of financing a government, one that, unlike the sales tax, has little to no effect on the economy. Isn't it time to be a little less selfish? Public administrators shouldn't be thinking of themselves. If they do, they should be called 'businessmen.'

I think selfishness is really the root of the country's financial woes. Budget cutters are unpopular, and politicians want to be popular; it keeps them employed. Take the situation here in Utah. The state currently has a $1.6 billion surplus. Billion. This is money that could pay for increased teachers' wages and decreasing classroom sizes, (Utah currently pays the least money per student in the entire country) mass transportation projects, etc. The legislature says they want to use the money for some of these things, like transportation, and teacher's salaries. However, apparently they can't afford to do anything about crowded schools. Instead they want to give a substantial portion of the surplus back. So Utah taxpayer's get about $40 bucks back in the mail, whether they want it or not. Last year the legislature, dealing with a similar surplus, did the same thing. Everyone I talked to said they would rather put more into schools than get $40 back. But apparently the suits on the hill disagreed. They would rather buy votes.

At least, that's the way I see it. They would rather give money back to taxpayers and appear generous, than do the right thing and increase the quality of education in the state. Selfishness.

Of course, this only makes things worse in the long run. Right now, when the economy is good, they cut back taxes to buy votes. Later, when the economy is not so good, they are left without any money, (because they gave it all back) and they have to raise taxes. Back and forth, back and forth. Meanwhile, no one can plan adequately for their government programs, because they have no idea if the money will actually be there. It inefficient and wasteful. Instead of giving all the money back, save some of it for the future when the economy is not so good. Is there anything wrong with a government having a savings account? No, we wouldn't want that, it would be a good example to the public, whose savings rate is now negative.

I don't think it's much different on the federal level. Politicians don't want to cut government programs, or decrease defense spending, because that might get someone mad at them. They would rather spend money that the government doesn't have, and add to the national debt, which is now approximately $8.6 trillion. This gets them reelected, because the average American is the same way, and also spends money that he doesn't have. (Makes you wonder if one is casing the other, doesn't it?)

Once upon a time, or so people say, there were to be statesmen. Men who did what they thought was best for the country, made compromises with each other, and didn't spend money that they didn't have. At least, not very much. Actually, I'm not sure we ever had such men, but we shouldn't. Whether or not statesmen once existed, we certainly don't have them now. We only have politicians.

If someone would run for office and focus on important issues, like balancing the budget, rather than attention-grabbing but nearly-impossible-to-change-issues, like abortion or other moral questions, I would not only vote for that someone, I would go door-to-door and urge everyone to vote for him or her. It's time to get away from the stupid, divisive issues, and get some work done. Maybe Mitt Romney can fix it.

Wow, this turned out to be much more of a political rant than I thought it would be. I guess I am a lot more passionate about this than I thought. Perhaps I am not a democrat, or a republican, or an independent, but am just a fiscal conservative. Too bad there's not a party for that.

I feel like I intentionally installed a virus...

2007-01-27T21:59:00.000-07:00

Has it really been that long? Wow. A lot has happened, some of which I even intended to write about. Oh well, life goes on.

This semester I was notified in two of my classes that I would need to use certain computer programs to complete assignments, learn the material, and to actually get a decent grade. These are programs that no one has heard of before, and, of course, there is no Mac version. One of the programs was even written by the professor specifically for the class. I can't even look at the syllabus without using his program. (What a great idea. Let's cram everything for the entire class into one program. So what if a substantial portion of our students can't run our homemade program! Not everyone needs to see the syllabus.)

Unwilling to use a computer lab (that isn't even in the same building as most of my classes) to complete my assignments, I caved and loaded Windoze XP on my Mac. Fortunately, I have a MacBook with an Intel chip, so I can run windows with minimal emulation and frustration. It actually runs pretty fast. The only problem is that it is just so... revolting.

Really, it's an abomination having this on my screen. I feel like I just intentionally loaded a virus on my computer. Windows XP, world's most pervasive trojan horse. Am I going to regret this later? I'm not sure that the convenience of being able to do my homework is worth having this piece of crap on my beautiful machine. Oh well, it's done now. I'll just have to avoid using it as much as possible.

Just to make sure it knows how I feel, I named the windows installation "POS." I find this play on words (initials, actually) highly amusing.

Elections and Mormonism

2006-11-05T17:55:00.000-07:00

With election day around the corner, I feel the need to speak out about being a member of the LDS church and participating in elections.

The LDS church makes no endorsement of political parties or candidates. Every year around this time, a letter is read in most LDS church services announcing this. No endorsement of political parties or candidates. Period. Church members are encouraged to vote as their conscience dictates. Some people hear this, and seem to think that you can't be a good mormon if you vote Democratic. This is not the Church's stand. The Church isn't even trying to imply this. Yet many people seem to believe it. (Could some forms of apostasy start this way? What a scandalous thought...)

I think the reason many people think this way is that they see the Republican party as the moral values choice, and Democrats as the liberal heathens out to destroy the family. If this is true, then why are many Church authorities Democrats? This kind of thinking also oversimplifies political parties. It labels Republicans as anti-abortion and anti-gay rights, and Democrats as the opposite.

What they all seem to forget, is that there is a lot of legislation that has nothing to do with abortion, gay rights, or any other 'moral values' issue. Democrats also believe in government programs for the poor, treatment programs for drug addicts, and increased access to education. I don't know about you, but this makes me think of King Benjamin, President Hinckley's recent general conference remarks on education, and the Lord's forgiveness.

The point is, don't play the Mormon card to win your political argument. Both sides align with a few gospel principles. Just because one choice fits your favorite elements of the gospel, doesn't mean it is the only choice.

Considering these remarks, you may think you know how I vote, but I've actually voted almost completely Republican since turning 18. I may vote Republican most often, but that decision isn't mandated by my church. My uncle, like Elder James E. Faust, is a democrat, and I still think he's a good mormon. Recently I met with a state senator for a school assignment. While I agreed with the bills he had passed, several of his comments offended me. He criticized some other legislators who 'claimed to be good mormons,' but voted for democratic issues. One of these, he lamented, was even the Relief Society president in her ward.

This is the kind of behavior that makes Utah a de facto one party state. In fact, the Republican party has so much power in Utah, that I wonder how many decisions are made by elected officials, and how many are made by the party. I don't know about you, but my conscience tells me to vote for someone who will speak their mind rather than toe the party line. It almost makes me want to vote Democratic; most of all, however, it makes me want to avoid political parties altogether.

Feel free to cuss, but if you're politically incorrect, we'll censor you

2006-11-05T17:51:00.000-07:00

The other day I watched an online news video, a portion of which contained an audio recording and written transcript. The recording repeated the word b**** (a foul word which literally means "female dog") over an over again without a single bleep. However, the recording also repeated twice the word n***** (an offensive term usually directed at African-Americans).

While I find both words pretty offensive, the connotation here disturbs me. A word that many consider to be profanity is repeated over and over, while another word, which is not only offensive, but also politically incorrect, is censored. Does this bother anyone else? You can be as offensive as you want on television, or the radio, just don't use any terms that would get a politician in trouble. Why do some groups' offensive terms get bleeped, while other terms don't? I know plenty of women who hate the 'b' word, but you hear it every day on television. When's the last time you heard the 'n' word on TV?

I've noticed that the more profanity you use, the more uneducated you sound. Ever hear a person use the same filthy word as a substitute for everything? Sounds real intelligent, doesn't it? But you can't insist that people read books and learn some new vocabulary. That wouldn't be politically correct.

I'm certainly not saying that the 'b' word should be censored, and the 'n' word allowed. I'm saying that offensive speech has gotten out of hand. I my book, it doesn't matter who is offended by the word you said, it's still offensive. Not only that, but it makes you sound like an idiot when you repeat it over and over again.

Boo.

2006-10-29T21:23:00.000-07:00

Happy Halloween! These are the best jack o' lanterns that either of us have ever carved. If you're nice to us, we might tell you our secret.

The other night we attended my in-laws' halloween party. The theme this year was Pirates. Finally, I was able to put my fencing sabers to good use.

Here's another shot of my beautiful, and deadly, wife.

Marriage, Travel, and an Extroardinary Tightness in My Shoulders

2006-10-15T22:43:00.000-06:00

Just when things started getting tough in school, Kate and I went out of town. :)

We traveled to Beautiful Nauvoo, Illinois (it's more fun if you pronounce it "eel-ee-nwah") to see our friend Brent get hitched. We had a great time cramming the wedding and the site-seeing into too short of a trip. When we weren't at a luncheon, or in the temple, or site-seeing, we were trying to get our homework done. That's a terrible way to take a vacation, I don't recommend it.

When we got back, we got even more stressed trying to catch up from being away. Why did school have to pick this time to become more demanding? I have way more work than I want right now, and the worst thing about it is that I did it to myself. I'm the one that wanted extra letters at the end of my name. I could have stuck with the old B.A., but no, I wanted to go to law school, and then I wanted to hurt myself even more by getting an MPA at the same time. One of my wife's former roommates once told me "you're smart, you're in law school." Well, I don't feel too smart right now. I have stupidly brought more stress upon myself.

Now don't go thinking that I am regretting grad school--I'm not. I really like my program, and am very excited about the future. I just need to vent out a little frustration and complain a little. If you don't like it, go spend sometime somewhere else, like homestarruner.

So yeah, school is tougher than I thought it would be. I was thinking, "gee, I did a year of law school, I can handle anything." Whatever. I didn't have deadlines or assignments last year, just hard classes. This year they actually want me to do stuff, rather than study all the time. In law school all I had to worry about was keeping up in class and final exams at the end of the semester. Now I have a team to work with and deadlines to meet. For some reason I thought I would breeze through this year. This is what happens when you get too prideful. I have now been humbled.

For some reason my body likes to carry all of my stress in my shoulders. My upper back and shoulders are really tight. Why do I have to be stressed there? If my body needs to carry stress somewhere, why can't it be in my abs? Then I would at least have a six-pack to show for it.

In other news, my stake president looks like Dick Cheney. Really. He really does. He sounds like him too.

Freakonomics...

2006-09-17T21:54:00.000-06:00

...is one of the coolest books I have read in a long time. I highly recommend it. It'll change the way you think about everything from real estate agents to sumo wrestlers.

We've already walked on water.

2006-08-27T15:14:00.000-06:00

I don't usually wax religious on this blog, but I feel the need to today.

Today in church the story of Jesus walking on the water came up. As the scripture goes, Peter saw the Lord and said, "if it be thou, bid me come unto thee on the water," and Christ said "come." Peter went out on the water and walked toward the Savior, but then, seeing the waves and feeling the wind, he became afraid and lost faith. He began to sink, crying "Lord, save me." Christ stretched forth his hand, and lifted Peter up, and they walked to the ship.

It was only when he felt the strong winds that Peter lost faith and began to sink. Jesus said to him "O thou of little faith," but Peter had the faith to walk on water in the first place; he had already walked on water. It was only afterward that he began to doubt. Isn't that just how we often are? We have all seen miracles of some kind in our lives. Everyone, if they really look for it, can find some time in their lives where the Lord lifted them up. Just the fact that you were born at all is a miracle. We have already walked on water. We have seen the hand of the Lord in our lives. Why are we doubting now? It's just the wind.

Miracle #2

2006-08-13T23:00:00.000-06:00

Let me tell you a little story. It's even true.

See, I got hitched in February. It was awesome. The one bad part was that I was in my first year of law school at the University of Utah, and my new wife still had over a year to go at BYU. We both thought, "man, it would be great to get a transfer to BYU." Yeah, it would have been just about perfect. So, we hoped, and prayed, and I filled out the paperwork. We thought our chances were pretty good. We definitely had a need, and I had been accepted by the MPA (Master's in Public Administration) program to complete dual degree (JD/MPA). We hoped and prayed for a long time. Our relatives hoped and prayed for long time. Finally the notification arrived in my inbox.

No.

We were devastated. It was not what we wanted to hear. But, we had done what we could do, and we moved on. I called the dean of admissions to ask what happened. I left a message. I didn't expect to hear anything back. We went ahead with plans to commute in opposite directions when school started. I called the MPA program at the Y and told them I wouldn't be coming. I talked to our landlord and told him we would be living here longer. We started looking into getting some furniture to make our apartment feel more comfortable.

Six days later my phone rang while I was at work. The dean of admissions called me back. We talked about why I wasn't accepted. At the end of the call, he told me that he was still thinking about my situation, and that there was still a chance. He would know within a week and a half and give me a call. Hope bloomed and lit up our lives. It could still happen! We just had to be patient. It was only a week and a half, we could manage that.

A week and five days later I still hadn't heard anything. I was pretty discouraged and convinced that it wasn't going to happen. Kate and I again planned on continuing at the U, as before. Later that evening, after business hours were over, I got another phone call. I was in. Just when I thought it was all over, the situation completely changed. I was back in on the condition that I get myself back into the MPA program. It was too late to call that day, which just added to my frustration. The next morning I got a hold of the right people, and everything worked out. I even got back the half tuition scholarship they had give me. It was amazing. Kate and I were both overwhelmed with how blessed we are. Is that a miracle or what? It's almost as much of a miracle as Kate marrying me... :)

So now we are stressed out trying to find a place to live in Provo or Orem. Somehow, I just know it's gonna work out just fine.

Phun with Photo Booth

2006-08-13T22:59:00.000-06:00

Another reason to get a mac.

Levi says "Peace."

2006-07-09T22:18:00.000-06:00

This is one of my new nephews, Levi, quite possibly one of the cutest children ever created. Not only that, he's so good natured it's almost scary. It's really not fair. We probably won't be nearly as lucky when we have kids.

This was taken almost a month ago. Kate and I went to visit family in St. Louis. It was a great trip. A lot of it consisted of sleeping in, one of my favorite vacation activities. We had a great time with the family, but the best part was the couple of days that Kate and I got away and drove up to Nauvoo.

Behold, my very beautiful wife with the very beautiful Nauvoo Temple in the background.

If you get a chance, I highly recommend spending a day or ten there. It's one of the most peaceful places I have ever been to. Plus, anyplace where you can incorporate a visit to a Temple into your vacation is highly rated in my book.

What do you know, I'm Married!

2006-07-09T22:04:00.000-06:00

Can you believe it, we're coming up on five months of marriage. I am still amazed that it actually happened. I am also amazed that I never posted any pictures of the Blessed Event. Because this blog is a history over which I have full control, (Mwahahahaha! I have the power to control time itslef!) I have post-dated the pictures and placed them here.

Finally able to Breathe

2006-05-10T10:34:00.000-06:00

It's over. For now. Finals are done. I sold back my books. I read what I want to now. Now I work for money. I go to work when I want to. I don't get graded at work on a curve that compares me to the other linguists. Wow, I love summer.

It is wonderful to be able to sit back and breathe. Last Friday, after my last final, I rented some science fiction movies and vegged the whole night. It was so cool. I watched four episodes of Firefly in a row. Afterward, I felt kind of lazy, but that feeling went away after I slept and went to work the next day.

I feel so free. I am no longer constantly thinking about school, and keeping up my grades. I don't know if I kept them up or not, but I can't do anything about it now, so I don't care. I can finally put some time into a birthday present for my wife. Woohoo! I'm not a deadbeat husband!

Summertime is so cool. I worked a little bit so far, for which I get paid, they give me money! Today we are driving to AZ, via Las Vegas, to visit family and friends. (Sure, it's hot there now, but not as hot as it will be in July and August) We're just going to take off, with no need to even think about school. How cool is that?

I know, I know, you're thinking that I sound like I've just been released from solitary confinement, and all of these things that I am raving about are really nothing special. Well, you see, that's where you're wrong. All of these things are something special, and if you don't see it, it's your problem. My wise friend Bobby McFerrin said "simple pleasures are the best." Yes they are. If you can't take joy in the simple things, then how can you possibly get true joy out of the big things?

I love the little things in life, and the pleasure they give. I love taking a deep breath once in a while. I love riding a bike in the sunshine. I love having friends over to dinner. I love the sense of accomplishment I feel after cleaning a room. I love looking at a sleeping child. I love feeling my wife asleep next to me.

I also love getting good gas mileage. Boy am I glad I have a small car. Even so, I wouldn't mind getting better mileage than what I have. This trip is going to be painful at the pump. It only offsets it a little bit, but I didn't drive to work yesterday. I think this summer I'll be able to drive to work only half the time. Yesterday I rode my wife's bike over to the TRAX station, and rode the train in to work. There's a simple pleasure right there. A bike takes the same amount of time to get to the station as driving, and the train ride is only a little longer than the commute, plus I can read on the train. The only reason I won't be doing that every day is that some days I will be working at two different locations.

Which brings me to my next bit of news. I am keeping my old job as a Russian linguist for the summer. In addition, my company is also giving me a 10-hour-a-week legal clerkship. Thus, I get the benefits of a good wage, with the benefits of good experience. They aren't paying me for the clerkship, but they gave me a raise on my linguist work. Sweet.

I have decided to turn my law school experience into a dual-degree program. By adding one more year to law school, I can get a Masters of Public Administration (MPA). This really fits what I wanted to do with a law degree anyway--public service. I feel really good about it. It'll make me a bit more marketable, and focuses my education in the area that I want it to go in. Plus, it's three more letters at the end of my name. :)

Because Kate goes to BYU and we are sick of commuting in opposite directions, I am applying for a transfer to BYU law school. My chances seem good. To cover all of my bases, I have applied to the MPA program at both BYU and Utah. BYU's MPA program has offered me a scholarship that amounts to nearly half tuition. If BYU law school will just go along with it, we could be in a significantly better financial situation come fall. In any case, the transfer won't be approved until mid-June, as it takes almost that long to get my grades back for this last semester. It's something that both Kate and I really want, and it would fit our needs extremely well. All we can really do now is hope and pray.

What's wrong with this picture?

2006-05-10T09:55:00.000-06:00

The other day we got this in the mail:

Now, I like a green lawn as much as the next guy. In fact, I like it more than the next guy. However, this was just cruel teasing. I would love to have a lawn. I would, even love to pay someone to make my lawn green. I would just love to have a back yard. Unfortunately, our meager rent doesn't pay for a whole lot. Don't get me wrong, our place is certainly comfortable, and has enough room for us and our multiplying junk. (When you get married, triple the amount of stuff you have, and that is how much you and your wife will have together, then multiply that by 3 after you unwrap wedding presents). Despite the very nice characteristics of our little place, this is what we have in the way of landscaping:

I don't think the guys at Stewart's Lawn Service are good enough to make a nice, thick, green, shag carpet of a lawn out of that.

Obeying the Law can be Dangerous

2006-03-11T09:59:00.000-07:00

The other day I came across this video. Not only was it Made on a Mac, which makes it inherently cool, but it also took a lot of guts to make. So, if you've ever wondered what would happen if people actually obeyed the speed limit on a major freeway, check it out.

Two Weeks

2006-03-03T23:39:00.000-07:00

It's been two weeks. It doesn't seem like it, but it has. We're still not really settled in here. There are a lot of boxes, a lot of things lying around because we either don't know where to put them, or haven't had time to put them away, or both. My wife and I both have been really busy...

Wife. I have a WIFE. Жена!

How the heck did that happen? I swear, just yesterday I was a single guy living alone, with a relatively uncluttered bathroom. Now, seemingly seconds later, I wake up every morning next to a beautiful woman who actually likes to make my lunch in the morning. There are also more soaps, lotions, and other mysterious items in my bathroom than I would have thought possible.

Ours, right, our bathroom. We share it. She and I. Me and my wife. This woman who lives with me, and I, we share a bathroom. And a whole lot of other things. Including money, we even have a joint checking account. We are now financially intimate. Oddly enough, we haven't combined music libraries yet. We just haven't had the time. But hey, that's serious intimacy, when I authorize her computer on my iTunes account. We can let my electrons mingle with her electrons... Nothing says I love you like sharing protected music files.

But seriously, this is good stuff. Marriage is awesome! I'm glad I didn't know before that it was this good, I would have gone nuts being single. It is so nice to come home every day and know that I have someone to be with that night. Even better, she's the same someone that I am with every night, my favorite person to be with, my best friend. It's so danged comfortable that it's like we're both drugged or something. High on life, baby, high on marriage.

If any of you have a problem with me raving about this, you better get over it. It's just as bad in person. People were giving us a hard time in church last Sunday, and this week will undoubtedly be no different. Seeing as all it took for it to start was a little peck on the cheek, I expect the teasing to continue for quite some time.

The whole thing is still sinking in, and it will probably be sinking in a bit longer. There's a lot to get used to, and we haven't exactly had time to get used to it either. We got married on Friday, February 17th, and were back in school on Tuesday. I had a major paper due last Monday, and Kate's schedule wasn't any lighter. I guess there is a reason people go on week-long honeymoons. You really need some time to get used to each other. Our little weekend just wasn't enough. I've never been so tempted to skip school in my whole life.

There's not much more to say. I can honestly report that I have never been happier. And it's all because of one person, and the commitment we have made to each other. Marriage is a "marvelous institution. I highly recommend it." (Name the film, 10 points)

And So It Begins...

2006-02-17T10:20:00.000-07:00

Last Night

2006-02-16T23:56:00.000-07:00

Did I pack everything? Do I have all the paperwork? Will I get enough sleep? Will she get enough sleep? Will everyone be on time? Does the tux look okay? Are any family members going to freak out and get mad? Will my car get plastered with decorations? Will I say something completely stupid tomorrow and be reminded of it for the rest of my life? Will we get any gifts that we actually want? Do we have any idea what we are getting into?

Probably not.

I'm getting married tomorrow. Tomorrow. I've been at a sustained elevated heart rate for the entire day. I'm pretty dang excited, and having a real hard time sitting down and reflecting for a minute. Tomorrow I am marrying Katrina Joy Larsen, the most wonderful woman I have ever met. A woman who fits me better than I ever could have imagined. A woman that I would truly do anything to be with. I could sit here and extol all her virtues, but then I would be up all night, and I probably should get some sleep the night before the most important day of my life.

The other day a friend of mine was expounding on reasons not to get married. He seemed to think it was a great burden to be tied down. I had the hardest time understanding his point of view. Everything he complained about is exactly what I've been looking for. I want to need to talk to my wife to discuss our plans. I want to have a family to support. I want to share everything that I have with someone. I want to have kids someday. I want to come home to the same wonderful woman every day. Yes, I am deeply in love, and perhaps quite blind, but I just can't see the bad. I'm sure I could come up with something bad if I looked for it, but that's a good way to live an unhappy life. When it comes right down to it, if you don't have a family, what are you doing it all for? Maybe I have no ambition, but there isn't a single career that I could center my life on. My main purpose for a career is to provide for the family that I want to have, for the children that we hope to eventually have. If it's also fulfilling in other ways, that's great, but it's merely a nice side-effect.

I think back to before my relationship with Kate, and I wonder how I ever lived without her. Ignorance truly was bliss. I couldn't manage it. Knowing what I know now, how wonderful things are, there is no way I could bear to be without her, to be alone.

So this is the end, the last night of my single life. More importantly, tomorrow is the beginning. The beginning of my real life.

Ghost Town

2005-12-01T22:15:00.000-07:00

It's been pretty tough staying focused lately. You can probably tell, because this is my second post in as many days, and before then I hadn't written anything since September. I've been getting distracted. Or maybe I've been looking for distraction. Well, today I found some, and best of all, it was the kind that doesn't make you feel like a slacker.

I found this website today. There is a link there to a photojournal of the author's travels through the areas affected by the Chernobyl accident. It's quite a surreal read, and highly recommended to everyone.

It's really quite amazing what has happened to that area. Some people would look at what happened and take it as a warning to stay away from nuclear power. I don't see it that way. I see it as a warning to stay away from paranoid totalitarian regimes. The reason why the accident was as bad as it was, was because the Soviet regime didn't care about it's people, only it's power. I have full confidence in the ability of the United States to properly regulate nuclear power and keep it safe for American use. However, I am a little frightened of how Russia seeks to sell nuclear reactors to any country willing to pay for it. Hopefully they have improved a bit since '86.

Like you didn't know already.

2005-11-30T22:03:00.000-07:00

Apparently I haven't posted since September 9th. Incredible. I don't know where the time has gone. All I've been doing is going to law school...

Right. Now I remember. I've been a little busy. I thought at the beginning of the semester that I would be able to post a little once a week, but that was back when I was foolish and ignorant.

I am now no longer foolish.

School isn't the only thing that's been keeping me busy. I got engaged. To be married. Me. Again. This time, it's for real. It's so much more real than my previous... shall we say, experience? Yes. Much more real than my previous experience. And much better. Infinitely better. I am so in love I can't believe I am not in a coma somewhere dreaming all of this. The miracle about it is that she feels the same. And I can tell that she feels the same too.

So, as you can see, I haven't had a lot of spare time, and what spare time I have had, I've spent with my lovely future wife. Did I mention I'm in love with her? I guess I did. I didn't mention, I'm sure, how amazing she is. I'm not sure that I can. Words don't do her justice.

Did you know she even has the right kind of computer? That's right, we're gonna have ourselves a cute little Mac family.

So anyway, we're getting married February 17th, 2006, in the Salt Lake Temple of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. In only 78 days, 12 hours, 29 minutes and 45 seconds. In other words, not nearly soon enough. I, however, am a veritable mountain of patience and self control, and will make it just fine.

Why are you laughing?

This is the last week of classes. Next week I will have my first law school final. Soon after that I will be one-sixth done with law school. Unbelievable. This semester has really flown by. I hope I have made progress. I can't really tell if I have. I don't feel very different. I don't feel more like a lawyer. In some ways I feel stupider. Now that I think about it though, I think that I think a little differently now. I may have become more analytical and more thorough in my thought patterns. This is probably a good thing.

I am very glad that the semester will soon be over, though. I have enjoyed a lot about my classes, but I really need a break now. I feel burnt out. Apathy is starting to set in; I am having trouble caring how well I do on my finals, even though it is something very important to me. It's definitely time for a break. Christmas sounds nice. Maybe I will even start posting regularly again. :)

Katrina

2005-09-09T10:21:00.000-06:00

I am not going to join the numberless bloggers out there talking about who is to blame for the catastrophe in Louisiana and Mississippi. I find the blame game to be extremely inappropriate at a time like this. Why can't we blame the Hurricane? Isn't that why we name them, to put a label on a faceless evil? When terrible things happen, why does it have to be someone's fault?

Speaking of naming hurricanes, I never thought about it until this particular storm, but what does it feel like sharing a name with such a destructive force? I am sure there are thousands of people who have the same name as a hurricane, but this is the first time it has been so close to me. The first thing I think of when I hear the name Katrina, is not the storm, but the love of my life. I don't really like hearing about all the pain and suffering that my girlfriend has caused.

Did that sound insensitive? It wasn't intended that way. I would talk sympathetically about the victims of the storm, but that is something a bit more personal to me, that I don't care to spread over the internet. There is plenty of such material elsewhere, and I don't feel the need to supply any more.

I have heard of people naming children after hurricanes. I wonder if that has happened yet in this case? I did hear about several weddings among refugees in shelters...

Saturday Night Studying

2005-09-04T00:10:00.000-06:00

Saturday, September 3rd, 2005

There is something strangely pleasant about studying at the Law School on Saturday night. It's very quiet; there's only a couple other people there. At this point in school there is not so much work that I am overwhelmed, and so I had a nice unhurried study session. I was relaxed, I took my time going through cases. I took breaks and talked on the phone, or ate. It was strangely pleasant. I've never really enjoyed studying as much as I do on Saturday nights.

I suppose one of the reasons why it's as good as it is, is the fact that I couldn't be with my girlfriend. Basically, if I can't be with her, there isn't much else that I really want to do, so I might as well study.

During the week it's not quite the same. I want to get away from there when I am there during the day. Maybe I am more of a hermit than I like to admit.

In my reading for my Contracts class, I came across a case that I remembered from high school. Only, it was different than the way I heard it then. Remember the Pepsi Points promotion back in '95 or so? Pepsi gave you points with every product you bought, and you could spend them on various pieces of junk in their catalogue. If you didn't want to buy Pepsi, you could actually buy points instead. They had a commercial for it, showing a kid going to school, and all the stuff he had gotten. It would list the item he acquired, along with how many Pepsi points it cost. The end of the commercial showed a Harrier jet, and listed 7,000,000 as the number of points it would take to get it.

Well, some moron collected 25 points, wrote a check for $700,000 to buy 6,999,975 more points, and mailed it off to Pepsi with an order for 1 Harrier jet. Pepsi, of course, told him that was just a joke, a fanciful ending for the commercial, merely for humorous effect. He decided to file suit against Pepsi for breach of contract.

The way I heard it in high school was that he won, and Pepsi had to pay him a bunch of money. They way case actually ended up, was the judge telling him "sorry, everybody knows that was a joke, and you're an idiot for spending money on a lawyer." I paraphrased a little bit, but that's the gist of it.

Makes you wonder what other lies you believed in high school, huh?

Roommate Rant

2005-09-03T23:52:00.000-06:00

Is it too much to ask for a civil greeting?

As I came in the door when I got home tonight, my roommate looked up at me from the football game he was watching. I voiced a common greeting. "What's up?" Silence. He went back to the game.

Does this strike anyone else as fairly odd behavior? It's not like I asked anything complicated, like the calculation of Pi to the 28th decimal place. I didn't even care about what was actually up, I just wanted a normal, civil greeting, something that basically says "I acknowledge your current presence in the room."

This particular roommate, the Quiet One, has done this before. I can't tell if he just hasn't heard me, or if he really doesn't want to say anything. I think it is the latter. I have heard him talk, and I have heard him acknowledge sounds before, so I know it is possible. He just doesn't talk. Other than that, he doesn't bother me. (except for his apparent approval of professional wrestling, but that's a whole other subject)

The other roommates have their quirks too. Churchgoer (self-explanatory name) is 6'8". 'Nuff said. The other two are the alcoholic brothers. My main beef with this place is them. Looking for housing listed at the LDS institute here, my intention was to find a place to live with guys who kept LDS standards. Once again I learn the lesson never to assume anything. Fortunately, they keep the alcohol to themselves (most of the time). Unfortunately one of them, Rock Star Alcoholic, has a girlfriend who periodically spends the night. Lucky for me he is downstairs. His brother, Future-Doctor Alcoholic, shares a bathroom upstairs with me. He's not quite as bad as his brother, and I sometimes enjoy debates with him. His main problem is his worship of the Idolatrous God of Science.

Now, I should probably state that they are not alcoholics in the sense that they are dependent on alcohol to the point of mental illness. The merely ingest it regularly. Look at it this way: compared to me, they are alcoholics.

Needless to say, I am not particularly thrilled at the atmosphere here in the house. There are definite occasions when there is a complete lack of the Holy Spirit. It's rather frustrating to me, especially on Sundays. Last Sunday was an exception--everyone was out of town except for Churchgoer and I. We both commented to each other about it. For a little bit, I felt bad that I loved having them gone so much. That feeling went away pretty quick. Hopefully the Alcoholic Brothers will be sleeping something off until midday, and postpone their Halo tournament until after I go to church.

Law

2005-08-28T00:27:00.000-06:00

Hi. Did you miss me? Probably not. You probably didn't even notice that I hadn't written recently ("Recently" defined here as "last three months"). Don't worry, I won't take it personally. I mean, hey, I don't even know who I am talking to.

Yes, here I am, starting up the old blog again. The past couple of months have been wonderful, and I really haven't felt the need to put anything out. I've been content to just work and spend time with Kate (see previous entry: link titled "fabulous"). I haven't really wanted to do anything else, and certainly didn't want to spend any time on anything else. I barely wanted to spend time working, but money is, unfortunately, a necessary evil.

My last post left with me returning to San Francisco to finish work. I finished it. I then returned to Arizona for a week or so, then moved back to Provo, Utah. A week and a half ago I moved here to Salt Lake City and began attending Law School at the University of Utah.

Law School is the main reason I am posting here again. I'm going to be writing quite a bit for school, and I decided I would like to write something regularly that I don't have to write. I will also have a lot of different issues going through my head for which I might want an outlet. I have no idea how many will find their way here. We'll just have to see.

The U is an interesting place. Started by Brigham Young soon after Salt Lake City was founded, the school definitely has Mormon roots. Half the school seems to go about it's business not caring about that, and the other half seems to be running away from it. I find myself in a much different position that I am used to--the position of having my beliefs and lifestyle challenged.

I'm not sure how many Mormons are in the class, but it can't be more than 40%. Among those who are not member of the LDS church, there seem to be two main types: Those who are neutral toward the church, and those who are highly critical of the church, especially in a place where the LDS church dominates everything. Among those who are members of the church here, there are three: active churchgoers, indifferent members, and people who were raised LDS and are bitter about it.

It's a mix I am not used to dealing with. I usually find most of my friends at church. At work, I am social, but I never have any interest with spending time with those people while away from work. The church is such a large part of my life, that I don't really meet people elsewhere. That's all changed now. Law School takes a lot of time, involves discussing and debating things in and out of class, and takes place in only two buildings. There is no way to keep apart from all the people there, even if you wanted to. I've never wanted to isolate myself from others, in the past it just happened. Currently, it's not possible. I have to interact with every one around me.

Don't get me wrong, I don't shun non-Mormons. I just haven't had many in my social circles for a long time. It's just different, not bad. One aspect of it that is awkward, is dealing with the people who are members of the church, but don't live their lives that way. I don't know how to act. Should I treat them just like any other Mormon, even though they don't seem to be choosing that way of life, or do I act like they don't know anything about the church? I'm too used to my categories of "Mormon" and "non-Mormon." I need some different levels in there. Or do I even need the categories at all? Should it matter if someone shares my beliefs or not?

Sadly, it does. There are so many parts about being LDS that impact every part of life, that it is impossible to assume that someone knows what you are talking about when it comes up. Which it does, all the time. Especially when talking about various issues in law. I still have a moral absolute, even though the law doesn't. Many in Law believe that there are no right answers, just good arguments. My beliefs don't jive with that.

Regardless of the differences, this is the time for me to grow and learn, and not just the Law. Exercise doesn't do any good unless you have some resistance, some opposition. I don't think there will be a lack of that.

Age is an Attitude.

2005-06-06T12:08:00.000-06:00

It's been a little while since I have posted anything substantial. I suppose I really haven't had much to say. I am still in San Francisco, and it's gotten a little old. Until last Thursday there really wasn't much to say. That was when I took a couple of days off, and flew to Utah to meet with an associate dean at BYU Law School. It was a short trip (much too short), and my original reason for going entirely fell through. The lady I was going to meet with had surgery not long ago, and was having complications with her recovery. She was out of the office all last week, and was consequently unable to meet with me. She did call me, however, and we'll just have to schedule something when I move up there.

Despite this small disappointment, I did have a fabulous time. I planned my trip with my birthday in mind, so that I wasn't stuck in S.F. on my own at that time. It was indeed a fantastic birthday, certainly the best in recent memory.

I almost didn't make it out of there. I was late to the airport, and had to run to make my flight on time. I was too later to check my bag, so I sprinted through the airport with my bag dragging behind me. Of course, Murphy was smiling on me, and the gate was as far as it could possibly be from the ticket counter. I'm surprised I didn't hurt anyone. It was particularly close on the moving sidewalk. The passing lane on that thing is a might bit narrow. I made to the plane, sat down in my seat (which was in the very back, against the wall of the bathroom, so it didn't even recline the measly two inches that you normally get) and proceeded to sweat buckets. It took me less than ten minutes to go from the curb to the gate. ("They didn't even catch you on tape? You must have been booking, how fast were you going?") After I sat down, it was ten more minutes before they shut the door and prepared for take off. I sat there feeling foolish and panting like an asthmatic.

It's rather frustrating nearly missing a flight that I actually wanted to miss. I really didn't want to come back here, but I can make it until Thursday, which is when I leave for Arizona. At least the hotel gave me a room with a better view. They put me on the corner of the building this time.

I almost didn't even notice my age at this birthday. The day was more of just a special day for me, and it didn't even occur to me how old or young I am. I suppose that is what happens when you get older. The birthday isn't about your age anymore, it's about you. I don't think I really feel any age at all anymore. I don't feel old, and I don't really feel young, and it doesn't bother me at all. I am just me.

When I turned 26 last year, I was frustrated because 26 is a lot closer to 30 than 25 is. Or, it seems that way. Maybe that is why 27 doesn't seem like much of a change. It doesn't really seem all that closet to 30 than 26 was. Of course, when I actually hit 30, I may entirely change my mind, and this whole paragraph will no longer apply. I'll just have to cross that bridge when I come to it.

What does it matter how old I am anyway? Why should I need to be any age other than what I am? I seem to be out of those milestone birthdays anyway. 8, 12, 14, 16, 18, 19, 21, these birthdays all have some sort of significance, a stage has been reached, you are now something more than what you were. Now there aren't any more milestones, at least not for a while. I suppose some would consider 30 one of the big ones, but after that, nothing until you reach retirement age. You're just... middle-aged? Whatever. I guess I'm still just a twentysomething.

Briefly...

2005-06-05T16:09:00.000-06:00

I was surprised by the reaction to my last post. I guess people think I am a lot me ticked off than I really am. I am surprised by the reactions I get sometimes. I think I am just animated, and trying to be entertaining even when I complain. People seem to think I am more upset than I really am, when in reality I am rarely seriously upset about anything.

I did see the movie in question, however, and I did enjoy it. It was no Oscar-winner, but it was worth seeing. I didn't see any of the political slants that people saw in it. I mean, I can see why they might think that, but it seems a bit of stretch, bordering on the absurd.

Time for a rant.

2005-05-19T17:30:00.000-06:00

Alright, I don't do it often, but it is time for a rant. I haven't seen the new Star Wars movie yet, but the news is pissing me off. Everybody seems to be talking about the political subtext that is supposedly there, comparing President Bush to the Emperor. I think it's absurd, personally, turning a story that was conceived nearly thirty years ago into some kind of contemporary political tool. People are entitled to their own perceptions, and as a former film major, I am well aware that films are often interpreted as being pertinent to the political situation of the time, but it's getting on my nerves. Some moron at some news station thinks he's clever and makes up a story that George Lucas is grinding a political axe, which Lucas proceeds to deny.

Of course, since one news station went with it, everybody else has to run it too, and now we have the politics of Star Wars plastered all over the place. There are too many news channels. Every single one of them runs the same stuff, analyzes the hell out of it, grinds it up, spits it out, and serves it to the public as a breaking story.

While I'm ranting, it's also getting annoying having someone clean up my room all the time. Whoever it is keeps on turning the alarm clock so that it is turned parallel to the bed. What is the point of having the clock turned so that you can't see it from bed, or, for that matter, from anywhere else in the room where you would sit. I had to put a note on it, requesting that the clock not be moved. It worked at first, but today the maid moved it again. It's just so hard living in a hotel...

Where am I? And what have you done with Don Quixote?

2005-05-17T00:01:00.000-06:00

Life's a Beach

2005-05-17T00:00:00.000-06:00

As you might have guessed, I went to the beach today. It's definitely too cold for swimming, but it was nice to put my feet in. I think I like beaches better when it is a little chilly, mostly because no one else is there. It's a lot more enjoyable when you don't have to fight crowds, or worry about kicking sand on someone's towel.

There is something incredibly peaceful about the beach. I suppose it must be the constant waves, the reassurance that life goes on. The waves are still coming in, so I guess life is just fine. When they stop, it's probably time to worry.

Where did you walk today?

2005-05-16T23:46:00.000-06:00

I used to hate my feet. I didn't like wearing sandals, because I always thought my feet were gross. I suppose I have out grown some insecurities, and am now convinced that my feet are entirely normal. I rather like where they have taken me.

I gotta stop hanging out in bars...

2005-05-16T23:45:00.000-06:00

The other day I ate dinner at the restaurant here in the hotel. I was waiting for the check when I somehow, I don't remember how, got involved in a conversation with two women in the booth behind me. One was probably in her thirties, and the other was a bit older, probably mid-forties. They asked me what I was doing, where I was from, etc. They asked me if I was in town for the Bay to Breakers race. They seemed to think that I worked out. I wasn't sure how to take that. I hope it wasn't a pick-up line. If it was, it definitely didn't work.

Inevitably the fact that I am a Mormon came up. They noticed right away that I don't drink alcohol (the hotel restaurant is a sports bar) and they began asking what else I didn't do. The younger one asked if Mormons have sex, which I found really funny. I had just told her that I am the youngest of 8 children. What did she think, that I sprang out of the ground? It's funny how some people seem to think that if you are really religious, you are celibate, like God would want a people who would eliminate themselves from the gene pool. That discussion inevitably led to the no premarital sex thing. The younger one even felt the need to ask if that was the case with me. I felt like a bug under a microscope. It was not quite as uncomfortable as it sounds, but it was close.

It was one of those conversations where I am not sure if I improved their perceptions of Mormons or not. I really have no idea. The older one seemed impressed, and told me that I was really good, but she said it in a way that seemed to imply that normal people can't be that good. The younger one probably just thought I was weird. She couldn't seem to get over the no premarital sex thing. To be honest, I thought she was pretty weird too. Her ideal marriage consists of a couple that lives in separate houses, and who visit each other occasionally. I hate to think how confused the children of such people would be. Then again, I don't think there would be any. Her ideas about sex don't seem to include any such results. It's funny to me how some people can think of sex and having children as two completely unrelated things. That doesn't sound like a very healthy sex life to me, but then, what do I know? I don't practice premarital sex. :)

An Adventure where Nothing Happens

2005-05-11T13:05:00.000-06:00

It's been over a week since the last post, and there hasn't been much going on. I think I did some laundry. And there was definitely food involved somewhere. It's amazing how time can go by, and you think, boy I sure was busy, but I can't remember what I actually did.

Well, one thing that does pop out is lunch with Olga. Olga is one of the linguists I have been working with, we shared a shift three times a week. She's originally from the Ukraine and lives and works in New York City. She is the coolest person I have met on this job. Definitely one of my favorite people here. I was very fortunate to share a shift with her. I'm certainly going to miss her now. The people I share a shift with now are not nearly as pleasant. She has an incredible work ethic, and a great sense of humor. Hearing her say "what up, dog" and "hella tight" in her heavy Ukrainian accent was always good for a laugh. She mentioned one day that she was a nineteen year-old trapped in a fifty year-old body. She definitely was, and that sounds like a good goal to me.

That's the only picture I have taken for a while. I guess I need to get out more. Maybe I will go to the beach sometime this week.

I moved into a different hotel on Monday. The Holiday Inn offers a few more perks, but has other drawbacks as well. It has fewer TV channels for some reason, and no laundry, which is odd, as it is a more expensive hotel. The view is better and the room is a bit larger. I have a chair now, a normal one, and not just a desk chair. Woohoo. Life is good, isn't it?

While eating breakfast and writing this I watched part of a movie about two Americans in Barcelona in the eighties. I have no idea what it was, but it the characters were very eccentric, and the humor was quite dry. It talked a lot about how Americans look to the rest of the world. Too bad I don't know what it was called.

Stubborn.

2005-05-03T16:53:00.000-06:00

This afternoon I spoke with the Dean of Admissions at BYU Law School again. I am still on the waiting list, and he is still very positive about my application. He doesn't know when they will know if they can take me. The weird thing is, I am in not way deterred by this. I find myself overcome by a stubborn determination. I have a goal, and I am not letting anyone but God stand in the way of it. I have this urge to overcome no matter what the odds. It's like I have something to prove. And I suppose I do. I want to prove that I can succeed despite anyone's attempts to categorize me as anything less than what I want to be.

I've noticed this tendency in other areas of my life as well. Sometimes good, sometimes bad (was this one of the reasons I was engaged for six months to the wrong person?). It's like my first urge when someone tells me no is to dig in and resist until the goal is reached. I suppose I just need to be careful, and make sure that my goals are really the right thing for me.

And right now, I feel that they are. I feel so dang positive about all of my goals right now, that I cannot but feel driven to hold on to the (hopefully not) bitter end. It would be different if I felt something else when praying, or fasting, or attending the temple, but the fact of the matter is, all I ever feel is confirmation that the efforts that I am making are the right ones to make at this time.

And so here I stand. I will not yield. I will move forward until the goal is reached, or until God tells me otherwise. Maybe I just like being stubborn.

It's like riding a bike...

2005-05-03T16:41:00.000-06:00

About time I reported on my trip across the Golden Gate Bridge last Saturday. A friend here in the ward suggested biking across the bridge, rather than hiking. There are several places here where you can rent a bike for the day. There are several routes that they recommend, and one of the most popular is a trip across the Golden Gate Bridge to a small town called Sausalito, then a ferry ride back to San Francisco. I think sightseeing on a bike fits my attention span better than walking. Or maybe I am just sick of walking. You can see everything along the way, and it doesn't take nearly as long. As it was, we only had the bikes for about four hours, and that included a leisurely lunch in Sausalito. The ferry ride was great too, offering wonderful views of the bay, with that strangely pleasant feeling that you get being out on a body of water. In all, it was a great trip, and I highly recommend it.

The crazy thing about the whole thing is that I hadn't been on a bike before then since a quick ride at a branch activity on my mission. Over five and a half years. I wasn't used to it. But, like they say, you never forget. Boy, it's a good thing I learned how to ride a bike when I was a kid. One of my coworkers told me that she never learned. Craziness. I am glad that I can fully appreciate the title phrase of this posting. I may still remember, but I am far from good at it. And my butt is still a little sore.

Beware of Birds

2005-04-30T00:38:00.000-06:00

I found another sign today that I found amusing. I had no idea birds here were so dangerous. It's like something out of a Hitchcock movie...

While I was out, I also found a new dream house. A cliffside dwelling right in San Francisco would be pretty cool. I can't even begin to imagine the cost.

Pilgrimage

2005-04-30T00:30:00.000-06:00

Yesterday I attended the Oakland Temple. It took a BART train, a bus to the end of the line, and a mile hike uphill to get there. One hour, forty-five minutes. By the time I got there, I was sweating buckets and had to stop and enjoy the view before going in, just to let the wind dry me off a little.

It took more effort to go than I have ever before expended on attending the temple. Except for my mission, and a four-month stint in Alaska, I have never lived more than half an hour away from a temple. The hike up there made me think of how difficult it is for so many people around the world to get to a temple. I know my experience was nothing like theirs, but it was a nice feeling that I had completed a pilgrimage of sorts. The hike was almost entirely uphill. It was like my own little climb up to the Mountain of the Lord. Perhaps my film background has me sticking in all sorts of imagery in a fanciful attempt to dramatize my own life, but it really did add a lot to the experience. I felt very good, it's always nice to feel like you are in the right place at the right time. I felt very much at peace with my life, like I am doing the right things. I know that everything will work out somehow, although I have no idea exactly how that will happen. There are still many variables in my life, and I would love to know where I will end up, and with whom, but I haven't been blessed with that knowledge. At least I know that it will work out the best way for me.

in addition to its incredible view, the Oakland Temple has a garden terrace on top of part of it, and you can climb up there and walk around the Temple, and enjoy an even better view than from the ground.

As I was walking down the stairs from the terrace, I came upon this little guy.

Now, some people wouldn't care to take a picture of a slug, but I couldn't help thinking of the hymn All Creatures of Our God and King. The Temple was that much more beautiful, having a slug crawling on an exterior wall.

It took me another hour and forty-five minutes to get back to my hotel. On the bus I was definitely the only person in a white shirt and tie. I think I was the only white guy too. I don't think I have stuck out that much since my mission. I felt set apart from everyone. It occurred to me on my trip how very different mormons can be from everyone else, and how sometimes people can see that.

PhART

2005-04-29T23:43:00.000-06:00

I rode the BART for the first time yesterday. I was impressed, and I've been on my fair share of public transportation. Something like the BART is exactly what Phoenix needs. It's fast and connects several cities efficiently. Phoenix could use a system like it to link Mesa, Tempe, Chandler, Gilbert, Glendale, Peoria, etc. Connect them all with a high speed metro train like that, and have bus lines off of the stations to transfer to other places. It would cost ridiculous amounts of cash, and Phoenix would probably never do it, but it would definitely be worth it.

They could call it the Phoenix Area Rapid Transit, or PhART. I think it's a hilarious name, but I don't think it will win any votes. Not many people would care to say that they ride the PhART into work.

Food, Poets, and Cars

2005-04-27T16:37:00.000-06:00

Man, this shift change has really thrown off my groove. I don't sleep as well anymore, I don't feel a good when I wake up, I don't do as much before work. Weird. I think it is more than just the change in hours, though. I think the novelty of the job and San Francisco is finally wearing off. I suppose it just shows how much man is a social animal. I miss having a social life, even if it was the same people all the time. I don't have much of anything here, but that is gradually changing. I actually have a few phone numbers to call and try to drum up some fun for Friday night.

See, I'm not even posting as often as I was. I used to do write right after work, but now it is too late, and I just want to go to bed. Besides, nothing much has been happening. I did go to the cable car museum on Saturday. Cable cars are pretty dang cool. I had no idea that they had huge cables under the streets pulling people along, cables that all loop back to the same place, which is also a museum in addition to being the car barn, where they go through the gears and are moved at 9.5 mph. Crazy. It's cool that they have kept them around. Too many other historic things like that go by the wayside, and people don't bother to have them preserved. It seems that voters made it happen here, and now the cable car system is a national historic landmark.

Other than that, I haven't been doing much more than working, sleeping, and eating. The most exciting things about the past few says are the restaurants that I ate at, which is kinda sad. On Saturday I had Korean food, Monday I had Japanese, yesterday Mediterranean, and today, Peruvian. At least I am getting in a good variety.

Yesterday I had a long religious conversation with a homeless man. It mostly consisted of him telling me about God. He was right on with just about everything. He congratulated me for believing in God, and told me that Satan was going to target me, because I was trying to be righteous. It was a most bizarre conversation, leaving me thinking about how truth can be found in lots of different places, and God can talk to you in many ways. Some people don't even realize that they are tools in His hands. Unfortunately, all I could give the man, who gave his name as Osiris, was a copy of the Book of Mormon. It was good to at least give him that. He didn't seem to be too bad off for a homeless man--he had a sandwich in his hand during out entire conversation. Osiris said that he was a poet, and had a number of listeners that he addressed regularly. He kept telling me that he would recite a poem for me, but never seemed to get around to it. He may have been right on with his religious views, but he seemed to be slightly mad, or maybe that was just the alcohol that I smelled on his breath.

Osiris seemed to think that I should have no trouble finding a wife at all. He said that God would bless me with one. I appreciate that, and believe it too, but I find it a little amusing that even a random homeless man seems to think that it is no trouble finding a wife. Well, it might not be too hard to find a wife, it's just too hard to find one that I want to marry, and who in return wants to marry me. I can't tell if I am being to picky, or if there really is one type of person that I would be happy with, and they are in short supply. Most would probably tell me that I am being too picky. I honestly believe, though, that I haven't passed anyone up that would have been right for me.

Speaking of marriage, as I was walking along thinking after speaking with Osiris, I saw a girl yesterday who looked exactly like Lisa. It kinda jerked me out of my thoughts for a little bit. I suppose my self-imposed isolation is just getting to me.

Today I wandered around in the car dealerships down the street. There is a Bentley/Lamborghini dealership a block away. I had to ring a bell to get in, and the saleswoman said that they work by appointment only. I wanted to ask why she even bothered to go to work, since she clearly didn't have an appointment scheduled, but I didn't. Besides the sales lady and a man dusting the various pieces of four-wheeled jewelry, I was the only person there. She said that I could look around, as long as I didn't touch anything. She then informed me that some people would touch the cars, and even get in them, which, she told me, is a big no-no.

I walked around with my hands in my pockets, and bent down to stare at the vehicles. Lamborghini's are impressive in person, but the styling is so cool that it is ugly. Ferrari's are better looking, but I still couldn't ever imagine spending more on a car than a house. Besides, there is barely enough room for two people in those, and the mileage is insane, like 11 or 12 mpg. Bentley's are kind of ugly too, and so nice inside that I don't see how they could possibly be comfortable. I think I would still rather drive my car, which is much more affordable than I realized. The most expensive car there was over $300,000. I cannot imagine spending that much money on anything that can be moved. But still, it's interesting to look at them. I wouldn't turn down a test drive, but then, I don't have an appointment.

Hotel Rwanda

2005-04-23T02:52:00.000-06:00

I went to see Hotel Rwanda this evening. I didn't have anybody to hang out with, so I decided to see a movie by myself. I don't normally like doing that. I was trying to decide between Hotel Rwanda and Monty Python and the Holy Grail while on the way to the theater, when I decided to go with what I thought would be best for me, rather than what I might superficially enjoy the most. I think subconsciously I just wanted to cry. Hotel Rwanda was a good movie to see alone. It allowed me to be entirely uninhibited while I was emotionally moved. The film was marvelously done, and wonderfully performed. I loved it.

If you have not seen this film, please go. I do not promise that you will enjoy it, but I think it is something that everyone needs to see. If for no other reason, people need to see it just to know that nearly a million people died for no reason, while the rest of the world ignored the whole thing. People need to see it to make sure it never happens again. And yet, in Darfur, it probably already has.

I came out of the theater and walked back to my hotel watching people as I went. As a drunk man with a bottle passed by, I couldn't help but thinking of the waste that people make of their lives, the miserable things that they do to themselves, when there are so many bigger problems in the world. I thought of the underside of the city that I have seen, and the waste, the self-destructive things that people do to themselves and each other. Why must we do such terrible things to each other? Why must we do such terrible things to ourselves? Everybody just needs to join the church and become Mormons.

That's the thing that frustrates me the most, that I can't see it improving until the Lord comes again. A lot of people are nervous about that, and I was always afraid of it when I was younger, simply because it seemed like so many awful things would happen. But the Lord's coming is the solution to all of these problems. I can't wait until that glorious day, because then all of this madness will end.

I Am The Walrus

2005-04-23T02:30:00.000-06:00

...er, Sea Lion. Yes, I saw the infamous San Francisco sea lions today. Apparently they just started hanging out at this pier back in 1990, and they pretty much took over the place. They are protected by law, and the city decided just to let them have control over that area. On average, there are about three hundred of them there (They've peaked at a thousand. A thousand!!) and they are almost exclusively male. That seems pretty weird to me. You think they would gather where the females are, but hey, maybe that's why they are in San Francisco.
It's funny that they would choose an area that was already a tourist attraction. Maybe they are secretly hungry for fame. Watching them, you wonder if their cavorting is natural behavior, or just an act to please the crowd. Most likely they just wanted a spot to get some sun and sleep.

That whole area around Fisherman's Wharf is pretty cool. It's a major tourist trap. but a lot of fun. I am probably going to have to go back. On the way back to my hotel (I must resist the urge to call it home) I shared a cable car ride with a couple from Denmark. It was rather nice talking with them. I learned that Greenland is still a part of Denmark (unlike Iceland, which should trade names with Greenland, it would be more appropriate) and has a population of only about 40,000 people, about the size of a good football game, either the American or European variety. Apparently Danes like Americans a bit more than some other European countries, like France and Germany (Who DO the French like anyway? Besides the French, that is?). They actually called Germany and France a bunch of cowards.

Along the way I became fascinated with cable cars. I'm going to the museum tomorrow. It's free!

In my travels today, I also came upon "the crookedest street." This stretch of Lombard street is totally cool. What an awesome street to live on. I don't even want to think about the real estate prices there.

The tourists were gathered there like moths to a flame. Feeling like an idiot, I got out my camera and took a picture along with the rest of them. I think I am some kind of tourist snob. I love seeing new places, enjoying the tourist sites, but I hate being classified with the masses of people who eat up anything that the locals shove in their faces, for sale at twice the value. But there I am, staring at crooked streets and see lions along with all the rest. I guess I just don't want to be a mark. At least I'm not buying cheap t-shirts for twenty bucks.

My Street

2005-04-22T00:29:00.000-06:00

Cafe Asia

2005-04-22T00:27:00.000-06:00

No Tourists Allowed.

Yesterday I wandered around Ft. Mason and the Marina district. Now that would be a cool place to live. The Marina district would be pretty pricey though, even by San Francisco standards. I made a bad lunchtime choice and stopped in at a place called Betelnut. It was terrible. Actually, it tasted good, but there wasn't much to it. The place describes itself as being "pan asian," so I expected some kind of Chinese/Thai something, which it was. However, the dish I was served only made me more hungry. It was an appetizer, advertised as a meal. Four measly strips of chicken on strips, and some chopped up cucumber. I finished it all in about two minutes, and that was while eating at a leisurely pace. When the waitress came by after I was done and asked if I wanted dessert, I wanted to laugh in her face. Spread the word--if you are ever in San Francisco, do not eat there.

Maybe I should have eaten at this place.

I was tempted to stop, but I decided against it and got me hence.

I ended up having some pizza at a place near my hotel. While I was walking around looking for food, I did find Van Morrison's favorite store.

I would have stopped there, but they didn't have any food.

In other news, I found out yesterday night that my shift is changing to 5 pm to 1 am. Now it's going to be even harder to find people to talk to after work. At least that means I don't have to leave church early on Sunday. Also, the case will definitely be extended at least another month. I am only committed until May 7th, but I can work here until June if I want. I think I might want.

Today I went through the Asian Art Museum, and found it to be quite interesting. The cafe there, Cafe Asia, certainly offered larger portions than Betelnut. I was quite satisfied with my meal there.

There was an exhibit of contemporary Chinese art on display, work by the creator of the red dinosaur I posted a few days ago. I usually don't care for modern stuff, but I liked this exhibit for some reason. Not that I would display it in my home or anything, but I might actually like to get one of these jackets.

Much more interesting was the Sleeping Mao surrounded by thousands of plastic dinosaurs. My picture definitely didn't do this one justice. It's amazing what you can do with thousands of cheap toys made in China.

My. my my, what shall I do tomorrow?

Racha Cafe

2005-04-20T01:50:00.000-06:00

I didn't get out today, I was doing laundry and other crap all day. However, I did go to a great Thai place, the Racha Cafe, right before work. It was really good. I'm gonna have to go there again. I do need to try some Vietnamese food soon though...

No pictures today, sorry folks. I know that will disappoint my dear fans. I don't know if I can live up to this reputation of taking cool photos. I might not be able to take the pressure.

Cathie's influence (or, the influence of her blog):

Your Linguistic Profile:

45% General American English

40% Yankee

15% Dixie

0% Midwestern

0% Upper Midwestern

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

Amazing. That actually fits growing up in Maryland quite well.

Oh, crap! I hate myself!

Your Inner European is French!

Smart and sophisticated.

You have the best of everything - at least, *you* think so.

Who's Your Inner European?

A La Turca II

2005-04-19T01:47:00.000-06:00

Apparently, the Red Menace is a large, bright red, caged Tyrannosaurus Rex in front of the Asian Art Museum. It's also made in China. Could this artwork possibly be politically motivated?

I ate lunch at A La Turca again today. It was even fabulouser than before. Plus, this time I got take some baklava with me.

Today was a very good picture day. I didn't even walk around very much, or for very long, but I am pretty pleased with the results. The ones above are on City Hall. This one is my favorite:

I stopped and ate my baklava in the courtyard at a State of California building near City Hall, and saw a familiar face.

And, just in case you were looking for it, here's the truth:

Pasta Pomodoro

2005-04-17T01:56:00.000-06:00

Yesterday I didn't do much at all but sleep and blow my nose, but I did get out for an hour or so. I sat in Lafayette Park, read some scripture and watched this man practice his golf swing.

It was a little tricky taking the pictures without him noticing. I suppose my job is starting to affect me--I try to keep a low profile all the time.

When I finally got out today, I wandered up through Chinatown again, then surprised myself by hiking up to Coit Tower.

It was a bit of a climb up there. Not exactly the easiest when just beginning to recover from a cold. However, the view was worth it. Unfortunately, I don't have any decent pictures of the view (views, actually, it's round at the top, you can see in all directions) because the windows are locked closed to keep people from tossing stuff, or jumping. There is Plexiglas in the way, which is smudged all over by more noses than I care to think about. You'll just have to be satisfied with the picture of the tower itself.

It's getting harder to find cool pictures to take. I feel like I have to meet some kind of standard of coolness, like I have to avoid the ordinary. I suppose I am just bored by the normal tourist pics.

I stopped for lunch at a lovely Italian place called Pasta Pomodoro. I was a little out of it from the climb, and didn't understand a word on the menu, but ended up with a very nice grilled chicken pannini. At least, I think that's what it was. As it was, I made it back to my hotel just in time to leave for work.

Work was fascinating today. Unfortunately, I can't say anything about it, at least not right now. Our suspect is getting paranoid as it is.

Tommy's Joynt

2005-04-14T23:16:00.000-06:00

I had a day off, but my cold didn't. I did manage to get out for a little while this afternoon.

I wandered around Chinatown a little bit. The greatest thing about areas like Chinatown is that it feels like you are in a foreign country, while still standing comfortably in your own. It's like watching football on a big screen TV. You get all the action and excitement, but you aren't really there. Although, the Chinatown experience feels a whole lot more real than even the biggest TV.

I ended up at the same fountains that I visited on Tuesday. As I sat there thinking, the Dave Mathews album (Under the Table and Dreaming) ended, so I pulled out the Book of Mormon and read Alma 42. I sat thinking about justice and mercy, and homeless people and pigeons. There are a ton of homeless in San Francisco. Apparently they city gives every homeless person nearly $400 a month, which makes San Fran one of the best cities in the country to be homeless. I think I lived on about that much while I was in college. I think this is one of the reasons that there are so many homeless in SF. Now, I am all for taking care of the poor, but I don't think throwing money at the problem is going to solve it. I am not sure what will, but the Church's welfare program seems like a pretty good model to me.

One of the agents that I work with told me that the city renovated some old hotels as housing for the homeless. They could stay there for free. However, the city didn't give as much money to the people that stayed there. When the new tenants found out about that condition, many of them moved out. Many of them preferred having the cash to spend on drugs and alcohol. This is all according to that one agent. It is very possible that many had very legitimate reasons for needing more money, other than drugs and alcohol, but I also have trouble denying the word of an FBI agent that's been working the San Francisco drug scene for over five years.

As I sat looking at the pigeons, the question occurred to me: Why are there always so many pigeons in cities? Every city I have ever been in has had a ton of pigeons. I have never seen a single pigeon out in the countryside. It's like asphalt and concrete is their natural habitat. I think there are two main reasons why: 1. We feed them, therefore they stay. 2. We have removed all of their natural predators, therefore, they overpopulate.

I think homelessness is similar. (Notice, I said homelessness, not homeless people, there is a difference) Most cities simply feed the issue of homelessness, like giving out money to people just for being homeless. Such a program doesn't give anyone any motivation to improve their life. Give out food, please, offer housing, yes, healthcare, good, but don't just spew out money. Throwing money at the problem doesn't do anything but make people feel better about themselves. It's easier to do than trying to come up with difficult solutions to a difficult problem. It's like cold medication. It just makes you feel a little better. It doesn't cure the cold at all. All it does is treat symptoms. The root of the problem is unchanged.

Now, I am sure that there are plenty of things that I don't know about the situation, and I am sure that I am very wrong in some of the points that I made. I might have made some assumptions. But burning money ain't gonna work, and that's all I have to say about that.

As I headed back through Chinatown, I wasn't hungry at all, so I didn't do the appropriate thing and eat chinese food. As it turned out, by the time I was hungry, I was back at the hotel and too tired to walk anywhere else. I ate at Tommy's Joynt across the street, an experience that I don't care to repeat. It wasn't too expensive, but the chef apparently thinks that green beans should look like they came from a can (these ones probably did) and that a salad is naught but a means for consuming salad dressing.

Maybe it is just the head cold (which is starting to really annoy me) but I think the being alone in San Francisco bit is starting to get old. I probably just spent too much time in my hotel yesterday and today. One of the main things I looked forward to today was getting back to my room and calling people. This cold better go away soon, or things could get real ugly.

Soup @ Mel's Drive-In

2005-04-13T15:08:00.000-06:00

The only walk I took today was a couple of blocks to Walgreen's to get some cold medication. Yes, that's right, I picked up my first souvenir in the form a cold. Just in time for my day off tomorrow. Splendid. I slept lousy last night, but things are improving, and at least I have drugs now.

I have a blister on my toe anyway.

Hopefully I won't be too out of it at work tonight. Last night was pretty dang busy. I was the only linguist on duty, and for a while calls were coming in faster than I had a chance to type synopses for them. And only two of them were in Russian. On the bright side, the agents are very pleased with my work. It's great to get a reputation for being on the ball and dependable. And I haven't even been working a week yet. :)

I'm going down to Mel's for some soup.

A La Turca

2005-04-13T01:41:00.000-06:00

Today I walked east on Geary until Market street, then on to the bay ferry.

It's interesting to watch a street change as you walk down the block. Adult video stores gradually turned into Art Galleries (Which, according to some people, are the same thing. I don't agree). I found this lovely place on the way:

It looked a lot more wholesome than I expected. Alas, they were only open for breakfast. I had to make do with a Lamb Shish Kebap sandwich from A La Turca Turkish Cuisine. I'm gonna have to go back there. I need some baklava...

I walked through Union Square and was not impressed. It's overly commercialized and has no character, just a lot of money. I couldn't find anything interesting there to take a picture of.

On Market street I managed to take this one:

It's the Federal Reserve Bank of San Francisco. Yes folks, the local temple of money. It's not quite visible, but at the end of the columns there is an ATM. I found that rather fitting. Like an altar at the head of a chapel.

Along the way, I listened to Rachael Davis, followed by all the Beatles I have, plus some Cranberries. Union Square was improved slightly by reading Alma 25 there.

On the whole it was a great walk, with several places I must return to. There were some art galleries in need of perusing, as well as much more to see down where Market St. hits the water.

Picadirry Fish & Chips

2005-04-12T02:06:00.000-06:00

This is one of the coolest jobs ever. Of course, it gets tedious pretty often, but on the whole it is wicked-awesome. I work from 4 PM to midnight, which allows me to sleep in until nine (in order to make it downstairs in time for my free waffles) and have plenty of time to wander around. Today I exercised and got ready to go out for lunch, when I decided to just start walking. I stopped at a fish and chips place (Picadilly Fish & Chips, where two Chinese ladies made my lunch--go figure) and ate as I walked. I walked over 17 blocks, all the way to the water. I ended up at the San Fran Maritime Museum, which had a park next to it with a nice view of Alcatraz.

I decided that when I don't have anything firm planned on my workdays, I am just going to pick a direction, and walk toward the water (three directions to choose from). I will pick up lunch along the way, preferable a different ethnicity every day, and eat as I go. When I get to where I want to stop, I will take a picture, read a scripture or two, and head back. Oh, and I will listen to a playlist or album on the ol' pod that I haven't heard in a while. Of course, I'll be on the lookout for other cool stuff on the way.

Today was a walk north on Polk street, listening to Bob Marley's Legend album, Helaman 3:35, fish and chips, the park by the maritime museum, then back along Van Ness, while listening to Kenna (thanks Cath, for the excellent walking music). I think I walked over 35 blocks today. My feet hurt.

I saw some pretty cool places on the way. The intersection of Chestnut and Polk was cool.

I also saw my dream neighborhood. This is, hands down, one of the coolest streets to live on that I have ever seen:

On the way back I saw an old lady jamming out to an iPod. I found it amusing. It was especially amusing how she held it up to her ear. That mad me suspect both her sanity and the legitimate ownership of the iPod.

That's it for now. Must... sleep...

Life moves pretty fast...

2005-04-09T11:00:00.000-06:00

Just under 36 hours later, I am on a flight to San Francisco. I sure didn't waste any time on that one. Busy for most of the day, a really full evening, not enough sleep and moving on. I've never moved this fast, not even in some of my three-day relationships in the past.

Can I tell you what a dream driving around Salt Lake is compared to Phoenix? Oh, man, it was fabulous! I know I hated commuting in Phoenix a lot before, but I don't think I can go back to it now. From my Uncle's place in Bountiful it took less than fifteen minutes to get downtown, and just a wee bit more to get to the airport. I don't know where I am going to live yet, but anywhere in Salt Lake county will be fantastic after living in the ridiculous sprawl known as Maricopa county.

I sat waiting for my flight in the airport this morning while talking to Kristi on my cell phone when in walks Elder Russell M. Nelson. What do you know, he went and checked in at the same gate. At first, I wasn't sure if it was really him, being unused to seeing more than his head and shoulders. He looked just different enough that it could have been someone that simply looked like him. When we got in line to board the plane, I was right behind him, and I asked to shake his hand. He asked me my name, and where home was (I told him I didn't know). After a some comments about travel and the weather in San Francisco, we were assaulted by an awkward silence. I mean, what do you say? I didn't want to ask any doctrinal questions right there, and I had no idea what to ask him, since I already know what his job is, and about his family. I guess it just shows to go you that apostles are pretty much the same as ordinary members of the church, just with a busier job. He said he would only be in SF for one night, which is really too bad. That's not long enough to make it worth the trip.

Meeting Elder Nelson put me in a better position to ignore the idiotic young married couple sitting in front of me. The girl (she qualifies for the designation of 'Woman' only in the physical sense, being much to silly to be referred to as anything but a girl) is all over her husband, constantly giggling and bobbing her head about like a balloon on a string. I don't see how people whispering in each other's ears can be so loud. He seems to be the quieter of the two, but is not much better. If I weren't in a better mood, then I might be annoyed. I have never seen a girl fawn over a guy more. It's almost embarrassing for everyone around them. If I worked for the state government, I don't think I could justify giving a marriage license to people like that, but there's definitely a wedding ring there. It's pretty hard to miss. I feel kinda bad that they are sitting right there in front of me (she's playing on her gameboy) and here I am typing about them, and planning on posting this on the internet when I get to my hotel room. Oh, well, it's something to write about, and it's better than trying to sleep or read while they are making out. Which might happen again soon, she seems to be getting bored with her gameboy.

Well, it's tough to type during this turbulence (the word always reminds me of the beginning of The Hunt For Red October. Oh those annoying flight attendants...) so I am going to sign off now. Besides, we'll be landing in half an hour anyway. Hopefully the two in front of me can wait that long before they lip lock again.

I suppose I asked for it.

2005-04-08T17:30:00.000-06:00

It's amazing how fast life can change, especially when you are single and don't have anything to tie you down. I decided not long ago that at the end of April I was going to move up to Salt Lake and get settled in to attend the University of Utah Law School next fall. One week later, plans changed again.

Last Monday I was on my way to my afternoon job when I got a call on my cell phone. Unable to answer it, I let it go to my voicemail. When I checked the message, I was surprised to hear that it was from my supervisor at the FBI, my morning job. It turns out that they want me to take a job that I had entirely given up on, which requires travel to San Francisco for a month. Travel, hotel, and living expenses are covered (reimbursed, actually) and I would be working a full work week, but strange hours.

I didn't even get any work done at my afternoon job that day. I jumped at the opportunity, and took off to make arrangements to leave. I haven't been back since (I haven't missed it either). Since then I have been busy making travel plans and moving all of my junk to my parents' house for storage.

I can't believe how much crap I have. I swear that's what it is. Junk. At least, it is collectively. When examined on an individual basis, each item is crucial to my life on this planet. Much of it takes the form of books. Books that I read regularly, books that I want to force myself to read regularly, books that I wish I could read regularly, and books that I never read at all, but make me feel cool just knowing that I have them. It's also amazing how much space my computer takes up. It's mostly due to having two monitors, but the CPU is pretty dang huge too. Lots of stuff, not at all necessary for the salvation of my eternal soul. Would I get rid of any of it? Absolutely not. I am not a total loss, however. I am not that much of a pack rat. I do throw many things away. In fact, I threw away several items of clothing. The fact that I had not worn them in nearly two years tipped me off that I could relieve myself of their presence.

Well, it's all packed up in my parents' house now, and I have left sunny Arizona for a month. I am in Salt Lake right now, actually. I already had plans to come up here to look at the law school, and now have been forced to cut the trip short. I got here last night, and am leaving already Saturday morning. My first shift starts Saturday afternoon.

For the first time ever, I am renting a car myself. (I've rented one before, but I didn't pay for it) It's strangely empowering. For some reason I feel more independent knowing that I can travel to a place and not need any help getting around. They gave me a P/T Cruiser. It's a nice color (blue) but, other than the outward design, I am not terribly impressed. True, it is surprisingly roomy inside, but the handling and power are very much lacking.

Living in a hotel for a month should be interesting. A friend pointed out that it would be weird having somebody make my bed for all that time, which is correct, it would be. However, as I never make my bed anyway, it really doesn't save me any time and effort. The hotel has free high-speed internet access in the rooms, which is a nice perk. I suppose you can expect more updates here. I will have free time at strange hours to regurgitate all of my crazy adventures for all the world to see. Well, all the world with internet access.

After SF, I am planning on going back to AZ for a week or so, just long enough to make sure work is ready for me in Salt Lake, and to make arrangements to haul all of my crucial useless crap up here. Boy, it would be convenient to own a truck about then. But that's the only time. Otherwise, you have to help everybody else move.

Unfortunately, I can't just pick one up at the dealer...

2005-03-25T18:22:00.000-07:00

As I was walking toward my car after I got off work, I suddenly realized that the girls that I am most attracted to are like my car--small and curvy.

The monthly payments are probably a similar feature as well. A comparison could also be drawn to the stereo and the safety restraint system, but I'm stopping now.

Not the concert type.

2005-03-24T21:49:00.000-07:00

I just realized that I haven't mentioned a thing about the concert a week ago. Yes, I attended my very first rock concert on St. Paddy's day. Cake played in Tempe. I was pretty excited to go. I really like the band, and I thought they would be fun in concert, so I went with three friends of mine.

I haven't mentioned this to my friends, but I was actually a bit disappointed. They didn't play for very long, they didn't play the songs that I most wanted to hear, and I didn't like the mixing. Their CDs are much better. In general, I don't think I am the concert type. I don't like crowds, I hate the smell of smoke and beer, and most of the time the music is too loud. In a strange paradox, the music also doesn't seem loud enough. I suppose it just doesn't seem as intelligible as I would like it to be.

I have also noticed that people seem different at concerts. One of my friends seemed completely different than she is normally. She was so absorbed that she seemed completely different. This isn't bad at all, it's not like she turned into a zombie or anything, but I found it kind of strange. (sorry, I know I should have talked to you before posting this, but I will bring it up tomorrow)

Anyway, I suppose I have just learned that rock concerts aren't really for me. I'd rather control my environment, and stick to the processed version.

I Hate Allergies

2005-03-24T21:27:00.000-07:00

Flickr finally came through on the pictures. The wildflower season is really incredible around here. Hard to believe that this is a desert sometimes.

A bit of a contrast to this, isn't it?

Guns, Wildflowers, Allergies and the Near Future

2005-03-23T21:14:00.000-07:00

Some bloggers seem to think that there is some kind of rule that you are only allowed to write about things that have happened in the last 24 hours. I think that is a load of crap. I didn't feel like writing about this stuff right after it happened, and I feel like writing about it now. If you have a problem with that, get your own blog and complain about it there.

That being said, last Saturday was quite an experience. I have now shot a Ruger Mini-14 and a Thompson submachine gun, both fully automatic. Until last week I didn't even know that was legal. Actually, I am not entirely positive that it is. My Bishop (My Bishop, mind you, my ecclesiastical leader) had a family outing to go out in the middle of nowhere and shoot his guns, and invited everyone in the ward. The week before it was held, it became known as the "secret ward activity." Everyone knew about it, it just wasn't an official activity. I suppose there are probably some regulations about church activities and guns. Never having shot a machine gun before, I decided I should probably go and check it out.

It took place way the heck out somewhere north of here. I have no idea where we were, I just rode in the back. I don't think I was quite prepared for what I saw when I got there. Holy Cow, there were a lot of guns. You name it, they had it. And plenty of ammunition too. It was actually kind of scary. We had our very own Mormon Militia right there. No wonder it wasn't an official ward activity.

It was pretty casual. You just picked the gun you wanted to shoot, selected the proper ammunition, loaded the clip, and waited for your turn to shoot. Then you stepped up, and one of the Bishop's sons helped you load the clip and showed you the basics. Then you emptied your clip at a poor innocent bluff, had your picture taken, and let someone else have a turn.

The Thompson submachine gun (the "tommy gun") seemed to be the most popular. It was actually gold plated in parts, and had a plaque on it that identified it as a Korean War commemorative gun. Some people would hang those on walls, but where is the fun in that? I think just about everyone gave it a shot (sorry about that one, it just came out) and most couldn't resist repeating the line "keep the change, you filthy animal" afterward. I actually like the Ruger Mini-14 better, but the Thompson brings on a certain nostalgia for gangster movies and film noir. I suppose it is more famous, being the weapon of choice for mafia drive-by shootings in the 1930s. Ah, those were the days...

It also fits nicely in a violin case. :)

I was a little uncomfortable at first, but after a while you get used to it. My roommates (both gun owners) asked me if I was planning on buying a gun. While I enjoyed the experience, I am not in any sense of the term a gun enthusiast. I don't ever see myself owning a gun. I see no point in it at all. I don't hunt, I don't go shooting, (except for stuff like this) and I don't think a gun would provide me with any protection in any situation at all. In fact, I don't really care much about the whole second amendment. I think it would be better applied to swords, personally. Yeah, I'm not going to buy one, and I don't really like them all that much, but I must admit that I did have fun pumping lead into the ground.

On the way home, we stopped and took some pictures of wildflowers. It wasn't even my idea. My roommate and a friend were the ones who insisted on stopping. I found the contrast to be hilarious. Here are a bunch of guys in a truck, peeling down a dirt road at fifty miles an hour, the driver wishing the road was muddier and rougher, who are returning from shooting all manner of firearms, and what do they do? They stop and take pictures of flowers. Flowers. If that isn't hilarious, then you must be a foreigner. Or an alien. (no, not Mexicans, the kind from outer space that visited you last night)

The wildflowers really were something to see. In fact, you could see them right now, but Flickr.com is down right now. They say that it has nothing to do with being acquired by Yahoo!, but I don't believe it. It's just another case of The Man taking over a really cool website. I'll post a picture later.

The unfortunate thing about all the rain we had this winter, and hence, the incredible wildflowers, is the ridiculous amount of pollen around. I haven't had allergies this bad since... I don't know. Probably high school. It's really rather miserable. It's getting to the point that I am beginning to think that I have a cold. Again. But then my eyes and throat itch, and I figure it must be allergies. Besides, the Zycam isn't doing anything anymore, and it usualy works when I have a cold.

In other news, I finally heard from BYU. They stuck me on their waiting list. Gee, does that seem familiar? Like it is, I don't know... LAST YEAR! Yeah, this is my second year in a row on the waiting list to get in to BYU Law School. It is quite irksome. Oh well, I ain't waiting around for them. I certainly wouldn't turn it down if they came through, but I am going to go ahead with my life. I am starting to make plans to go to the University of Utah School of Law. They actually called me personally when I got in, unlike the people at BYU, who don't seem to return phone calls or emails.

Well, even though it isn't what I wanted to hear, it is nice to finally get word from them. I can no proceed with my life. I will probably move to Utah some time in late April. I don't want to stick around here for the summer (oh man, the heat!) and I want to get settled and get a social life in place before law school starts. Besides, I can do my translation job up there, and do it without the crappy commute too.

I would like to take this time, at the end of this post, to encourage those who haven't commented here before, to post something and let me know that you've read this. It doesn't have to be much. I am just curious. There are some people that I know read this page, and I suspect there may be others. Just humor me, please.

The Best Childless Dad Ever

2005-03-08T21:54:00.000-07:00

I even go to events for other people's children. Last weekend I attended two high school musicals. I had a niece and two nephews in their school production of Hello Dolly and another niece in her high school musical, Cinderella. I went to one on Friday, and, in an effort to spread 'Cool Uncle Blair' around, attended the other on Saturday.

The contrast between the two was incredible. Hello Dolly was put on by a charter school, with a total student body of about a hundred and fifty. They didn't have much in the way of anything to put on a show. Small budget, small pool of students to work with, small faculty. Considering all of that, they put on an incredible show. Sure there was bad acting, and some lousy singing, but they did a great job. They made up for their weaknesses with a lot of creativity. Sets and costumes were fantastic, and the choreography made a lot of non-dancers look really good. The faculty obviously made an effort to give all of the participants something special to do. Cinderella on the other hand had lots to work with. The school probably had more than three thousand students. The cast was huge. They had a pit orchestra. The singing was much better, and the lead roles actually had very nice voices. They had plenty to work with, but didn't do anything with it. The huge cast was wasted on just standing to the sides and singing the chorus. The lead roles, although singing wonderfully, had all of the personality of a block of wood. Their sets were large, but looked thrown together. One of them seemed in danger of rolling into the orchestra pit every time someone walked on it, which was required many times throughout the night. Definitely not OSHA approved.

I've noticed it in other circumstances, but it often seems to hold true that those who have little will maximize what they have, while those with a lot will waste quite a bit. I've noticed it in my own life. When I have plenty of time, I waste it. When I am really busy, I am incredibly efficient. When I have no money, I can make it stretch and have fun without it. When I have plenty, I am more likely to waste it.

Wait.

2005-02-23T15:30:00.000-07:00

This seems to be the overall theme of my life right now. Wait. Hold on while law schools (well, one in particular) decided whether you are good enough. Wait. Keep making friends and dating and be patient until you find the right girl. Wait. Hang out on making any big purchases while your boss takes forever getting your tax forms to you. Wait. Don't even think about being able to move on in your life. Just hang out and work, while no progress can be made in your life.

I suppose it's not that bad. I have a lot to be thankful for. I have everything I need. I have work, I am in a good financial situation, I have family and friends nearby to support me. I am so blessed that it is incredibly humbling to think about. I just don't have the answers to the two burning questions: What direction will my career make in the next year, and who will I spend the rest of my life with. Just a couple of little things.

I shouldn't complain, but I finally broke down. I feel a constant restlessness. There is a constant nagging feeling whispering "am I doing all that I need to do? What am I looking forward to right now? When do I get to start having my own family, instead of envying my sisters and brothers?"

The thing that makes it worse is that I really do feel like I am doing all that I can. I am working hard, I've definitely done all I can to get in to law school, and I date regularly. What more do I need to do? I can't think of anything. And yet the nagging persists.

The feeling is probably just apprehension. This time of my life is the big waiting period. The on-the-edge-of-your-seat-waiting-for-the-doctor-to-come-back-with-
the-test-results-while-you-sit-there-half-naked period of my life. I feel very strongly that big changes are going to occur this year, mainly having to do with my future education (no risky prediction there) and my marital status (wishful thinking?). It's only natural to feel restless.

Natural or not, I just want some peace. I want to be able to relax without needing some escapist movie or engaging sci-fi novel to do it.

Listen to me whine. Call the wambulance. Welcome to life, Blair. Answers aren't handed to you, and your life doesn't go according to your plans. Apprehension is your own fault. Stop thinking about it, and just do. If you can't do, do something else. As a friend of mine recently told me (at the time, actually quotiong a different friend), everything will work out in the end. If it hasn't worked out, it's not the end.

I want to do what I want to do, not what I want to do.

2005-02-19T15:42:00.000-07:00

I haven't done to well at posting very often lately. It's not like you all can complain all that much. I have no idea if more than one person reads this anway. It's not like I am overwhelmed with feedback or anything. I even debated with myself over whether to really put much more into the blog, but then I write something on it, and I just enjoy it so dang much. I guess I will continue. And I do want to write more, it's good for me. I just need to be more disciplined.

Speaking of which, do you ever feel like you have to discipline yourself to do the things that you really want to do? Do you ever find yourself wasting your free time, and you think, hey, why am I not doing something really cool with this time? Why am I not writing something, or learning something new, or becoming more spiritual, or something more positive than sitting around. But I end up being lazy and vegging. I guess sometimes what I want to do isn't always what I really want to do. Then again, it is important to relax once in a while. The bow must be unstrung.

I got a haircut and it's short and fuzzy. The girl rinsed my hair out and gave me a free shampoo afterward. There is something truly wonderful about having a girl shampoo your hair. It was heavenly. I was almost disappointed when she stopped. That's the first time I have ever tipped anyone for a haircut. Heck, I almost proposed to her right then and there. So I suppose there is a tip here for all the ladies. If you have done everything and just can't get your man, shampoo his hair or give him a head massage. If you do it long enough, he might commit to just about anything.

February is going to be over in another week or so. The weeks are flying by. Things are busy, I guess. Definitely not boring. But every once in a while I stop and wonder if I need to take Ferris Bueller's advice. "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." Currently I live for weekends. The weeks fly by, while I work and look forward to 5 PM Friday when I get off work. Five sevenths of my life could be wasted this way. Something's got to changes. I can only think of two things--my career and marital status. I am doing the best I can on both of them. This in-between time seems kind of inevitable. I can't hurry law school along, and I certainly don't want to hurry love. That only gets me into trouble.

I saw Hitch last night. I haven't laughed that hard for a while. Great show. I also connected pretty well with most of the men in the movie. That doesn't mean I am a loser who can't get a date, it just means that I can sympathize and often feel the same. I would love to be miserable for some girl. I think that I subconsciously love to be infatuated and in love to the point that I am sick. But I want it reciprocated. That's the only reason I don't dive into that mindset on a daily basis. The idea of knowing that I am going through hell for the sake of a woman who will eventually love me for it is sickeningly appealing to me. I am not sure if this makes me emotionally disturbed, or normal. I'll gamble on normal.

Won't You Be My Neighbor?

2005-02-19T14:47:00.000-07:00

I ran into this story last week, and was actually uplifted by something I read in the news. I liked it so much that I copied the whole article right here, so that people can still read it after CNN expires it. It is delightful to hear about someone bringing good old human contact back into the world. It seems that no one really goes out visits people just to be friendly anymore. We are all so busy with the "important things" that we forget about the ''social" part of the word "society." I am just as guilty of this as everyone else. I don't even know any of our neighbors. When I get home, I just want to relax and talk to one of my friends. I don't go out and try to get to know other people. Maybe we wouldn't be so afraid of strangers if we would just talk to them once in a while. Maybe some strangers wouldn't be so scary if some random person just paid them a little attention.

Anyway, I am really tempted to give this guy a call. Or to do the same thing myself.

Artist hits road to have dinner with ... you

NEW YORK (AP) -- A phone message to the nation: Please call 510-872-7326, Marc Horowitz wants to meet you for dinner.

Go ahead -- dial it. If he doesn't answer, just leave him a message. That's what thousands of people have done after seeing his number scrawled on a dry-erase board in a Crate & Barrel catalog photo last fall.

Horowitz, a conceptual artist in San Francisco, was working as a photo assistant on a shoot for the catalog when he came up with an idea for an art project that would question social barriers and maybe make the world a little smaller.

The dry-erase board looked too blank, so he decided to write his cell phone number on it -- and, if anyone called, maybe take a road trip to meet them.

"It's about illuminating the importance of conversation between strangers," Horowitz said. "We just plug into our computers and think that's the way to live, but old-fashioned face to face is what it's about."

It's not his first madcap art project aimed at bringing people together. Last year, he ran errands with strangers, which consisted of picking out their cereal and folding their laundry. The 28-year-old also regularly sets up a coffeemaker in Alamo Square Park and hands out free coffee to passers-by.

The dinner tour was supposed to be a three-month journey to meet a few dozen people, but now it has ballooned to include thousands of lonely souls. Horowitz left last week and plans to crisscross the country for at least a year.

But exactly who calls a number they see in a photo on the page of a Crate & Barrel catalog?

Gregg Piazzi, a 36-year-old chef who lives in Columbus, Ohio, was caller No. 34. He saw the number while flipping through the catalog, and stopped turning pages when he noticed it was not one of those fake 555-numbers.

"What are you doing?" his fiancee asked when Piazzi whipped out his cell phone.

"There's a real phone number in here," he said as he dialed. "I gotta call."

Horowitz answered, they talked for a few minutes, and now dinner with Piazzi is a planned stop on the nationwide tour.

Of course, callers left some nutty messages, including the occasional angry rant and at least one offer for sex. Many just hung up. Some yakked on and on about how they were raised by nuns, work at a gas station or take several kinds of medication.

"A lot of people are lonely and they just want to talk to somebody," Horowitz said. "I think people are looking for excitement -- maybe I'll call this number, where is it going to lead? I think it's just curiosity and about people wanting to reach out and connect with somebody."

The first call was from a Kansas man named Jake, "and it just started propelling east and west from there," Horowitz said.

Horowitz eventually added his e-mail address and Web site to his voicemail greeting. After some publicity, his inbox was jammed with e-mails -- dinner invitations, random ramblings and flirtations -- from New Hampshire grandmothers to Florida firefighters.

They beg him to visit their homes and towns, offering "a mean lasagna" in Georgia, a "place to crash" in Massachusetts, "something like chicken and dumplings" in Alabama, coffee in Wisconsin and Shabbat dinner in Maryland.

In their e-mails, they share intimate details. One woman in Las Vegas is saving up for gastric bypass surgery and another in Texas is going through a "divorce from hell." Nonetheless, she thinks "your dining with strangers across America is neato!"

One after another, they gush about how much they love Horowitz and his attempt to have dinner with thousands of strangers, a venture that "put a smile on my face and a skip in my step," a fan chirped from Texas.

"It is because of people like you that I have a renewed hope in mankind," one woman confessed in a 6:25 a.m. note.

"Congratulations for giving us something to talk about outside of the election, terrorism, and Paris Hilton," another wrote from Pennsylvania last fall.

Horowitz sold his truck, bought a mini-RV, sublet his apartment and held a garage sale to help fund his journey. He has rejected offers to turn his adventure into a TV show or documentary, which he believes would poison the organic purity of the conversations he hopes to have. But, he allows, he might write a book.

Some people would rather light themselves on fire than eat dinner with their own families, much less a houseful of strangers lonely enough to dial a random number. What is Horowitz thinking?

"It's about really listening and knowing that everybody has something important to say and that their stories are fascinating," he says. "This is real conversation with real people -- it's something you can't buy."

Beggars can't be choosers

2005-02-05T02:01:00.000-07:00

Anyone who knows me at all, knows that I am a Mac fan. I don't do anything weird, like dress like Steve Jobs, or collect old Macs and make them into fishbowls or random household appliances, I just really like using Apple computers.

Today while I was making dinner, I was listening to some tunes on my laptop. I have this wireless router doohickey that give me my internet access, but it also has an audio jack on it, so that you can stream music from your computer to your stereo. My roommate's girlfriend noticed me playing the music, and asked if it was connected to the stereo. I said yes, it's all done wirelessly. Since we just had a discussion about the fact that she can be gullible, she looked at me rather suspiciously, trying to decide if I was putting her on. I played some different songs, and proved that it really worked, and I wasn't kidding.

Anyway, on to the point of this post. While I was cooking, she started using my laptop to check her email. After a second she says, "oh, this is a Mac. I hate Macs." Now, I don't mind people hating Macs. Everyone is entitled to their own moronic opinion. However, she borrowed my laptop to check her email, and then proceeded to bash it. It's like a bum taking a handout, and then rejecting it because he didn't like the picture that was on the bill. I don't care what you think about my computer, you can at least respect the fact that you are using it, and it beats the crap out of using nothing. Not to mention the fact that it totally kicks her laptop's trash. I mean, a quarter of her screen is broken, and it ways ten or so pounds. And I am sure that she never used a computer that streamed music wirelessly to a stereo before either.

Anyway, that's my rant for the day. I suppose I have just proven how much of a Mac geek I really am.

Happiness is a New Dictionary

2005-02-03T23:33:00.000-07:00

Or even better, a whole stack of 'em.

This morning I was greeted at work by a large stack on my desk. Part of it was three more translation jobs, but the bulk (literally, a two foot high bulk) of it was made up of Russian-English dictionaries. They ranged from the general, such as the "Oxfordskii," to the specific, one devoted to science and technology, to the fun, like a recently published dictionary of modern Russian slang. I wasted a ton of time perusing that last one. (I think half of the slang in the Russian language must involve sex in some way. Or drugs. Fortunately there were a few other fun, cleaner tidbits.)

It's rather strange, but I actually enjoyed getting these books. I think I have officially been at this job too long if I start drooling at the thought of cracking open a brand new Ozhegov. (Russian-Russian dictionary, their version of Oxford) I especially enjoyed the smell. Fresh pages, not seen by man since rolling off of the press.

Man, this job is starting to affect my brain.

In other news, I went to an open house at ASU law school on monday. It was very informative, but very long. I enjoyed most of it, and I wouldn't mind going there too much, but I definitely like BYU better. Not only that, but I had to pay for parking. Why the heck are you going to pay for my lunch, then make me pay eight bucks for parking? I would rather have had the eight bucks back instead of the meal. I would have gotten some decent food at Wendy's and still had five bucks left. It would have been better than the sandwich and bag of chips that they called lunch. Maybe I will tell them that when I tell them I am going to BYU instead of their school.

Then again, maybe I won't.

Wow, I just wish I had his sword and incredible sense of style...

2005-01-27T17:29:00.000-07:00

I never thought I was that much like Gandalf. I don't have a problem with that, as long as I don't have to be too much like Sir Ian McKellen. (I don't mind the knighthood part, just the sexual orientation...)

You scored as Gandalf. You are Gandalf! This wise, old mage is loyal and brave. He is known for his counsel and advice to his friends and allies during tough times.
"All you have to do is decide what to do with the time that is given to you."

Gandalf

94%

Samwise

75%

Frodo

50%

Arwen

44%

Eowyn

44%

Aragorn

38%

Faramir

38%

Pippin

38%

Gollum

19%

Which LOTR character are you?
created with QuizFarm.com

Weekend Recap and Disturbing Trends

2005-01-18T23:02:00.000-07:00

How can I possibly be expected to work after last weekend?

I only worked a half day today, and even that was pretty dull. Last weekend was quite an experience. It was strange, it was wonderful, it was deja vu. It was good to see old friends, it was nothing spectacular to see old acquaintances, and it was strangely alarming that there was even the possibility of seeing the subject of the posting of December 7th, whom I did not, in fact, see.

Provo is an interesting town. I sometimes like it. The things that I don't like about it, I can easily ignore, while still finding things that I do like. I usually manage to find cool people, and ignore the dorks. This time was more of the same. Plenty of cool people, plenty of silly people to avoid.

As soon as I got there, I thought to myself, 'didn't I just leave this party?' Seriously, I spent four years there, and I really felt like I was done. However, grad school is a completely different situation. The law school there is cool.

I spent all day Friday meeting with professors and attended a couple of classes. It was fabulous. Every professor I met with just made me want to attend there even more, and the classes were very cool. I was surprised by how engaging I found them to be. The whole time there felt so good, so complete. I haven't felt so much like I was in the right place like that for a long time. I met with the number two at the center for law and religion studies for almost forty-five minutes. That was especially cool. Spending a good portion of my law school experience working to improve freedom of religion in Eastern Europe and Russia would be amazing. I just need them to let me in, that's all.

I went across the street to visit the KBYU studios during lunch. What a contrast. The rest of campus is to MTV as the law school is to NPR. Everyone on campus seemed to be young, stupid and without direction, whereas the everyone in the law building was mature and focused. And yet still having fun. There are some extremely cool people there. And they are there all the time. One of the professors that I met with mentioned that she hadn't been across the street in over a year. 'Across the street' is how they refer to the rest of campus.

I met with the dean of admissions yesterday morning. He was extremely positive. We had a very nice chat about the law school and it's outstanding features. He pulled out my file and we discussed some of my experience and education. He surprised me by coming right out and saying that my chances were very good. He mentioned several things in my favor. It is by no means a guarantee of admission, but it is certainly better news than I have had before.

I think I have mentioned it before, but for the last four months I have had this weird feeling. It is like combining the peaceful influence of the Holy Spirit with the anticipation that you feel right before the first drop on a roller-coaster. It feels like something is going to happen, something good. That feeling seems to be directly tied to two things. One is attending BYU Law School. I feel very confident right now that they are going to let me in, and that it is the right place for me to be. And yet there is that tiny little bit of doubt in the back of my head nagging at me that I don't have a letter of acceptance in my hand. Sometimes I wish certain parts of me would just shut up. As for the other thing, well, talking about the relationship that I want with _______ (enter girl's name here) never really helps, now does it? Especially when I myself don't even really know who she is.

Last weekend didn't really answer any questions. All it did was postpone the answers for a little while longer. Progress has been made, I just don't know how much, or in what direction.

In other news, there are disturbing reports of friends of mine getting divorced. It used to be that l would always hear about friends getting married. Now I hear about divorces. I heard of a couple cases just this past weekend. I first thought, what the heck is going on? How are all of these divorces happening, especially among LDS temple marriages? Then I thought, oh yeah, I almost got married a year ago. Who knows but that the same thing would have happened to me? I suppose it's not that hard to understand after all. Other people have actually made the mistake that I was saved from. And I don't mean marriage, I mean marriage to the wrong person. Here's to being single, and fortunately so.

Anticipation and Compromising Situations

2005-01-12T22:39:00.000-07:00

Have you ever wanted something so much it made your heart pound when you dared to think about it?

I decided last Saturday that it was time to schmooze. I made plans to go to Provo and try to talk my way in to BYU Law School. I have an appointment with the Dean of Admissions at 10 AM Friday. Hopefully, I will meet with some others too. He seemed rather routine about it when I talked to him, so I suppose he does it all the time. He's probably just humoring me. But maybe, just maybe, I can take advantage of that and amaze him with my rapier wit and stunning intellect. I hope.

I am incredibly nervous about it. It seems like my whole future hangs on this one weekend. And maybe it does. Where I spend the next three years could determine a lot of things. Especially when it is very possible that I will get married in the next three years. At least, I better.

A friend of my family teaches there part-time. I dated his daughter five years ago. I talked with him the other night. I mentioned that I got into ASU, and he thought that was very good. He said they are a really good school, and I should use that to my advantage. He said I should make them sell the school to me. It's a good idea, but can I really muster up that kind of confidence? Maybe I can muster up some of my training from that acting class I took. C'mon TMA 123, don't fail me now.

The anticipation is pretty much killing me. Oh well. Just one more day. I should be able to handle it until then.

A friend of mine just emailed me a pretty funny story. Well, it's pretty funny if you are mormon. If you aren't, let me know and I will explain it to you. Here it is in her own words:

"My mom was waiting at home for my bishop to
come over and give her a blessing when he happened to
give her a call and explain that his car had broken
down. My mom said, "Oh, well, where are you? We'll
come and pick you up!" My bishop replied, "Well, over
on Lackland, near the QT." Mom said, "be more
specific, Bishop, so we'll be sure to find you." And
after a short pause he responded, "Uh...well, do you
know where Hooters is?"

Woops! Caught the Bishop at Hooters...we took a
camera..."

I wouldn't mind taking a picture of my Bishop at Hooters. That would be classic. Stick that sucker up on the ol' bulletin board.

The First Post of The Year of Blair

2005-01-02T21:37:00.000-07:00

Goodbye 2004, we hardly knew you.

I used to hate New Year's. I didn't like seeing a whole year go away in what seemed like such a short time. I didn't like resolutions, and the self-examination that came with them. Self-improvement was a chore, and resolutions were only made to get people off of my back.

I feel a bit differently now, and I am not sure what did it. I actually enjoy looking back on the year now. I think it is because I see that progress has been made. I don't mind another year going by, because each year I am cooler than the last. Some of you may argue that point, but I believe it, and that's what matters. I look back on myself two or three years ago, and am amazed that I could have been such a dork. I suppose that's pretty common.

Resolutions aren't so bad anymore either. I suppose it's because I finally managed to keep one. Last year I made the resolution to go running three times a week. While I didn't keep that goal to the letter, I kept it at least 75% of the time, which is enough for me to consider the resolution kept. Not that I am going to stop. The good thing about that particular goal is that it is on its way to becoming a habit.

Yes, progress has been made, which helps me to see that progress is possible. That's what resolutions are all about anyway. Making progress toward what we really want to be. In the next few days, I think I will set some more, but mostly I think I will stick with the ones I had from last year. Most of them are worth continuing.

I spent New Year's eve at a party with people who were complaining about not getting any action at midnight. That's what you get with a bunch of mormons, I suppose. I wouldn't have minded spreading a little cheer, but none of the girls seemed entirely interested in kissing a bearded man. Not even the complete stranger who said she loved me. But she only said that because I was wearing my 'Vote for Pedro' shirt.

Yes, you read correctly, I've grown a beard again. I don't even know why, I just have. It started out as laziness, and has continued almost of its own accord. I've gotten quite a few compliments, surprisingly. Although a few seemed to be from girls who lied for the sake of flirting. I think I will keep it for a little while. Until it itches too much, or I find someone to kiss, whichever comes first.

I saw Spanglish last night. Except for a couple of scenes which I found to be completely unnecessary, I very much enjoyed it. I actually left the theater rather uplifted, which is a rare thing. What I enjoyed the most was seeing a film that encourages the audience to think outside the box. It demands that the viewer think of things from the other culture's perspective. It's especially relevant in the southwest here. There are such different cultures living in such close proximity, and yet they might as well be in different countries sometimes. Sometimes I really get pissed off at insensitive white people who think that everyone should be like them. If you are one of those people, don't see this film, you will hate it.

I also loved how it wasn't an average hollywood script. If it was, the two main characters would've ended up having sex, but no, they resisted. It's a refreshing concept on film. Imagine, two people who are attracted to each other can resist the urge to copulate! Not because they are bound by constricting religions, but simply because it is wrong. I think that is why I left the theater uplifted. Watching people overcome temptation is always a much better story than the usual studio drivel about the promiscuous adventures of an unnaturally beautiful person.

Well, the holidays are over, which can be a little depressing, but on the whole, I am optimistic. I am glad last year is over. A lot of good things happened, but they weren't exactly pleasant. More like a root canal--necessary, but uncomfortable. There are going to be good things happening this year, I am sure. I have already decided that this is going to be the Year of Blair. For the past couple of months I have had this weird feeling in my heart. A feeling of excitement, without any perceivable source. A feeling that something is going to happen. I still don't know what it is, but I am convinced that it is positive, and it is happening this year. I'll let you know more when I figure it out.

С Рождеством, (Merry Christmas) All You Single People.

2004-12-26T12:23:00.000-07:00

Friends of mine often complain about Valentine's Day, calling it 'Single Awareness Day.' While I am certainly not opposed to having a member of the female gender available to spend time with on that holiday, it has never been a big issue to me that I didn't. It's always just another day.

Christmas, on the other hand, is a completely different story. If ever there was a 'single awareness day' for me, it has been, and still is, Christmas. In my family, Christmas Day is celebrated with as many of my family as possible. This time, we got 5 of 8 siblings together, along with their individual families, and our parents. It's a lot of fun, tons of chaos, and plenty of good food. We have a gift exchange between each of the families, and all of the grandkids run around playing with their presents, while the adults talk and play games.

Sounds like a lot of fun, right? Well it is. And it isn't. Being the only one with out a family (read 'wife'), I tend to feel slightly left out of the loop. Don't misunderstand, I am fully included in everything that is going on, but there are little things that never fail to remind me of my situation. For years my parents have given the White House ornament ornament for the current year to each of my siblings families. I have never received one. It's not that I am obsessed with Christmas tree ornaments, I just want to be included with everyone else.

I suppose watching all of the kids play kinda makes me want my own. Of course, by the end of the evening when they are all crabby and crying I have pretty much gotten over that.

I went to a Christmas Eve party at my sister's in-laws' house. My parents were there, as well as another sister and her family. There was food, and games, and some crafts. Each family was supposed to decorate a toy sled and put all the names of the people in their family on it. The hostess had one set out for my parents and I. Fortunately, they were late, so there was only. I declined the invitation to participate. I mean, really, how lame is that? Like I want to decorate a sled by myself, or worse, with my parents? It doesn't really fit in with my 26-year old bachelor image. And if I had a date, it would have just been awkward. Hey, let's decorate this thing together so that people can make jokes about us getting engaged when we probably won't be together in another month.

I also miss the Christmas of my childhood. I miss standing on the stairs, waiting for Dad to give the go ahead to run into the living room to see what Santa brought. Christmas mornings now consist of waking up in my parents house at around eight, taking a shower and going over to my sister's house for breakfast, then coming back home and opening a couple of gifts while my Mom opens all of the presents that her students gave to her. It's rather dull.

But, there are benefits. I don't have to buy presents for my kids, I don't have to assemble toys late at night when I want to go to bed (although putting together my niece's wooden horse stable was a little bit fun), I don't have to deal with kids whining about not getting what they wanted, or breaking their sibling's or cousin's toy. I also don't have to convince a stressed-out wife to relax and enjoy the holiday. I will put up with all of those things when the time comes, but for now, I can do without them.

I was just reading over this post. Wow, listen to me whine. Call the wambulance. Well, if you have a problem with it, go read someone else's blog. Actually things really aren't that bad. I really did enjoy Christmas, and, if anything, it only helps me focus more on the real reason for the holiday. Because I am not as involved in all of the toys, and stressful activities of the season, I can focus more on the birth of Christ, and the meaning is has for me in my life. I may not have my own family to celebrate Christmas with, but at least I have the true meaning of the holiday in my life, which is more than enough cause to rejoice.

eBay, Playing Santa Claus, and a Movie that Shouldn't Have Been Made

2004-12-22T23:25:00.000-07:00

I just remembered, hey, I have a blog! It's been a while since I posted, so here is a jumble of things that have come up lately.

I bought a new faceplate for my phone. The old one cracked, and I like blue, so I got one that is chrome blue. After less than four days of using it, the blue is starting to rub off. I emailed the seller (bought it off ebay of course) and told him about it before I left negative feedback. He wrote me back today: "All the chrome color is easy to rub off, if you want the color not easy to rub off, you better order the transparent color or solid color." Either he doesn't natively speak english, or he's illiterate. Either way, it's crappy service. Telling the customer what he should have bought is a good way to go out of business. Negative feedback for him.

Sorry about the rant. I feel better now.

Last thursday I started delivering packages for Fedex for the holidays. It's kind of like playing Santa Claus. I did it last year the three days before Christmas and made some nice extra cash. It was really good money, so I decided to do it again this year, and for longer. The first three days they didn't have much for me, and it really irked me. It was barely enough to pay for the gas I used. I would have been better off putting in more hours at my regular job. Yesterday things got better, and I had about 38 stops. Today things exploded and I had 90 stops. The shipment was late this morning, so I didn't even get started until after noon. I made my last delivery at about a quarter to nine. I didn't get home until ten. It was a dang long day. But I made a lot of money, so I don't feel so bad.

I have learned that there is no such thing as a calm dog. All dogs bark like crazy, and try to get through the door or gate to you. Cats, on the other hand, just run away.

The other day I stopped at a gas station to use the bathroom. It was locked, so I waited by the beer for it to become available. After waiting for a while, one of the cashiers comes up to me and hands me the bathroom key. Explain that one to me. Why would you require patrons to get the bathroom key from you if the bathroom is inside?

The word of the day is:
moil \MOYL\, intransitive verb:
1. To work with painful effort; to labor; to toil; to drudge.
2. To churn or swirl about continuously.

noun:
1. Toil; hard work; drudgery.
2. Confusion; turmoil.

The moil of delivering packages wiped me out today.

I delivered a package yesterday to a little boy. He must have been about seven. His dad was standing right there when I gave him the package. I made him sign for it. It was rather amusing watching him try to act grown up and sign the form. He wrote out his whole name in cursive. At what point does one realize that your signature doesn't have to be legible? Either i've known that ever since I learned to write, or I have just always had illegible handwriting. Probably the latter.

It is kind of fun to be delivering Christmas presents to people. At least, it is when they are excited. And they are. Most of the time they aren't home, and I just leave it by the door.

Yesterday night I took my nephews and niece (well, three of them, I have billions of 'em) to a movie. I wanted to see Flight of the Phoenix. It's nice to have seen a film that is hands down the worst one I have seen this year. Now I don't have to pick between other movies that I actually liked. This one was so bad that my 14-year old nephew even thought it was stupid. The sad part is that it had such potential. The original idea is cool, but that was all it had. A good idea can only go so far when it is impaired by lousy direction, bad acting, and a script that only the mother of the screenwriter would say was good, and then only to protect her child's self-esteem. Yes, it was a good idea that tried, and failed miserably, to be a decent movie. And boy did it try. I watched it try for two hours. It even tried to do a little Lord of the Flies action. It didn't help. It only made it worse. Well, that's enough of that. Just scratch this one off of your list, should it be there. I give it maybe another week before it is taken out of theaters.

Catharsis: Purging the "Day of Infamy"

2004-12-07T21:54:00.000-07:00

It was a year ago. It was yesterday.

I was pretty irritated that I hadn't heard from her at all that day. The day before I had taken the LSAT, which was a big load off of my shoulders. I wanted to celebrate with her, but I couldn't get through. The phone was busy.

When the Bishop called to meet with me, I had no idea what was coming. On the way there I thought up the crazy idea that it was about some major calling or something. When he handed me the letter and the ring I felt an overwhelming darkness. It was by far the biggest shock of my entire life. Never before had I received news that made me feel physically ill. I'm surprised I didn't vomit right there. I sure wanted to.

I thought it was strange at the time, but the Bishop asked me if I had ever had someone close to me pass away. I hadn't. I still haven't, but I suppose something died that day. I don't look forward to it ever happening.

It's amazing to me how fast the year has passed. It's amazing to see how one little event can affect the next year, and beyond. Because of that letter I moved to Arizona. Because of that letter I have improved self-worth today. I moved closer to family, started over, and got a good paying job that, although it required me to freeze my tail off for four months, allowed me to pay off the credit card debt that I had accumulated. (I challenge anyone to be unemployed and engaged for four months and not carry a balance. I suppose it would have been better to be employed and unengaged, but that wasn't one of the choices)

When I first got down here I set a goal to be married within the year. I didn't have the faith for that, or, fortunately, the stupidity. I think it would have been a mistake to move on to another relationship that soon, even though I wanted it. I think deep down I wanted to send her parents a wedding announcement within a year. Isn't that petty?

Yes, it was a year ago, and whole lot has changed. In what seems to be an amazingly short period of time, I paid off debt and got into more by buying a car. I made some good friends. I put up with a frustrating job, that proceeded to get less frustrating the more I adjusted my attitude. I started some other work as a contract linguist for the FBI, which has proven to be a huge boost to my perception of my own coolness. I started listening to NPR. I got accepted to a law school, and have prospects of getting in to more. I was able to be around when my newest nephew was born. Although there wasn't much doubt before, I have nailed down the undisputed title of 'coolest uncle' to my nieces and nephews.

It's been a good year. There has been much improvement.

I don't ever want to go through it again.

I better change that desire, or it just might happen again. It's simply amazing to look back at a year that was so hard and was so distasteful that I wanted it to be over as soon as possible, and see the amazing things that have resulted from the trials. It's like a rose bush blooming from a huge pile of dung. (Wow, it was really hard not to swear right then)

I think it has only been in the last month or so that I have finally become happy. I may really miss having a close relationship with a representative of that beautiful species, the female sex, but in general I am very content, and even happy with my situation right now. I have plenty of work, no lack of money, friends that I can relax with, and a church calling that gives me the satisfaction that I am at least serving a few people. Recently my sister asked me what I wanted for Christmas, and it was really difficult to answer. I am not really in want of anything. I recognize that there are a lot of things that I would like to happen, but I am content to let them happen when they do. I can't do anything to hasten them any more anyway.

Besides, who needs closeness with girls? I kissed a girl on the cheek yesterday. Several times. My five-year-old niece, Savannah. :)

So today I recognize the anniversary of my freedom from a terrible relationship. I wonder if she even noticed that it was Pearl Harbor Day when she decided to drop a bomb? Somehow, I don't think she looks at it quite that way. I had actually planned on writing about this. I saw this day coming a week ago. I think I've been looking at it like some kind of milestone. I have survived a year without her, and things are better than I have ever been. I've even lost weight. Eat your heart out.

Before writing tonight I decided to read the letter again. I debated it in my head, wondering if I should risk ripping the scab off, and finding myself with an open wound again. I decided to take the risk. Surprise, only healthy new skin underneath. The words rang out true as I read them. She wasn't ready, she couldn't make me happy. The marriage would have been a mistake. There is someone much more wonderful out there for me, someone who can be every bit as wonderful to me, as I am to her. Reading the letter almost seemed like reading a history text of my own life. I looked at it and thought, well of course, that is the way it had to be. It wouldn't have worked out any other way.

Thanks for reading my little catharsis here. This entry is a bit more personal than any that I have written up to this point. I didn't really intend it to be that way, but now that it is out, I am not taking it back. What's the point of purging something if you are just going to pull it back into yourself again?

December 7th is a day that has lived, and in my lifetime, will always "live in infamy." Maybe next year it will only signify the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor.

It was a year ago. It wasn't yesterday.

World AIDS Day

2004-12-01T23:35:00.000-07:00

Check it out, three postings in one day! I suppose I am just making up for the last two weeks.

One can't help but notice, listening to NPR, that today is World AIDS Day. There has been plenty of commentary on it, but one in particular caught my attention. There was an audio editorial from a black woman on the AIDS situation among blacks, and particularly among black women. AIDS is declining among all groups in the US except blacks, who are ten times more likely to get AIDS than whites. The woman noted that there is plenty of press about the AIDS situation in Africa (South Africa in particular, has been hit the hardest by the pandemic), there is not much comment on the serious situation among blacks in the US. She commented that Americans seem to only be able to handle one disaster at a time, and the AIDS problem in Africa is taking up that space right now, so there isn't much help for blacks in the US. She was very accusatory toward the government, and it's lack of action on the problem.

I was disturbed by her editorial, but not in the way she would want me to be disturbed. What bothered me was the mindset that it is the government's responsibility to solve this problem. While I believe the government should be doing something, I think that too often the case is that when the government bears the responsibility, no one else does. According to my understanding of AIDS, and feel free to correct me if I am wrong, the only way to get the AIDS virus is through sexual acts (both the hetero- and homosexual varieties), using a contaminated syringe, getting a contaminated blood transfusion, or any other exchange of blood or sexual fluids with an infected individual. Are there any other ways of catching it? If my understanding is correct, except for cases of rape and medical errors, it is not difficult to avoid the disease.

Now, this might make me sound like an over-privileged white guy who doesn't understand anything, but what exactly should the government be doing that it isn't doing? Money is being put in to AIDS research, maybe not enough, but there is money there, it just competes with a lot of other diseases, such as cancer. There are awareness programs, teaching people about the dangers of the disease, how a person can be infected, and how they can avoid it. I don't think anyone can go through school and not know anything about AIDS. I suppose if you are illiterate, and never hear any news stories, you might not know how to keep from being infected. What can the government do besides awareness and research? I can't think of anything, but I could be wrong.

I suppose I am just disturbed that no one ever takes responsibility for themselves. There is an easy way to avoid getting AIDS. I've been doing it my whole life. Call me silly, old-fashioned, or irrational, but I just don't have sex. Check it out, no STDs at all.

If this post offends you, or you think I am ignorant of something, please let me know. I would like to be more informed on the matter, but so far, all the news organizations have been telling the same story: AIDS is a serious problem affecting millions of people around the world. That's good to know, but it doesn't help the problem that much. If there is something more that we can do that, unlike finding a cure, is within our control, let me know about it, and I will support it, but don't just sit around getting mad at the government. They didn't create the disease, no matter what the latest Nobel Peace Prize winner says.

I am Saturn

2004-12-01T23:05:00.000-07:00

Here is one of those oh-so-scientifically-accurate quizes that you can take about yourself. Apparently, I am a Saturn. I agree with the description, but how is Saturn all of those things? That certainly doesn't fit the car brand. And I don't think my ears are that big either

You Are From Saturn

You're steady, organized, and determined to achieve your dreams.
You tend to play it conservative, going by the rules (at least the practical ones).
You'll likely reach the top. And when you do, you'll be honorable and responsible.
Focus on happiness. Don't let your goals distract you from fun!
Don't be too set in your ways, and you'll be more of a success than you ever dreamed of.

What Planet Are You From?

We are thankful for the time we have been given.

2004-12-01T21:59:00.000-07:00

I am going to break the unwritten rules of blogging by writing about events of almost a week ago.

Thanksgiving day was quite nice. I spent the day at my sister's place with her family, my parents, and some visitors they had from out of town. The food was wonderful, as was the company. I am used to being with a larger group of family, but for some reason all of the rest of my family had plans out of town.

We have a thanksgiving tradition in our family that is kind of cheesy and cliche, but I love it and will continue it with my future family. When we sit down to eat, we go around the table and, starting with the children, we each say a few words about what we are thankful for that year. It really puts things in perspective, and helps us to realize the amazing blessings that we enjoy. My sister's family all mentioned the birth of the newest addition to their family, my nephew TJ, last July. My parents had plenty to say as well, mostly concerning my Mom's health.

When my turn came up, I found myself saying that I was thankful that I was not married. My sister's guests from out of town thought I was poking fun at my sister's kids, but then I explained to them that I almost got married a year ago. I was a little surprised to realize that I really am grateful that I am not married. At least, I am really grateful I am not married to her. It's been a long time coming, but more and more I am realizing that marriage to her would have been the biggest mistake of my entire life. I've made mistakes, but nothing that huge, and I am not eager to start.

While I certainly would love to have someone to be with, I am actually content with the single life. I am probably more content than I have been since my mission. Everything is going well, I feel like I am making progress, I am reasonably successful, and I feel like I am doing the right things. That last part seems to be the most crucial. Living my life right and making the right decisions is what has allowed me to be content. Without that, you never have any peace of mind.

Last friday I went to the viewing of my Bishop's wife. She passed away a week ago Sunday of ovarian cancer. It was a long time coming, and no one was surprised. They seemed to be as ready for it as anyone could be. The viewing was very nice, but I felt a little out of place. I haven't known them for very long, and there were a lot of people there. I mainly attended because of my love and respect for my Bishop. He is one of the most amazing men I have ever met. Throughout his wife's illness he has been just as dedicated to his church service as ever.

When I talked with him the day after her passing, his tone seemed to suggest that she was just gone on vacation for a couple of weeks, and then he would see her again. Which is true, in a manner of speaking. He has a wonderful perspective on life and death. His faith permeates all areas of his life and allows him to weather these trials with the right attitude. He has an eternal perspective, which I have found to be very difficult to obtain, and even harder to hold on to. I want to be just like him.

Relief and Disappointment

2004-11-22T17:06:00.000-07:00

It's amazing how knowing what you will be doing for the next three years helps your perspective on life.

I just got a letter from ASU law school. When I got it, I thought it was just an acknowledgment of my application, which I turned in just over a month ago. Not so. I was very surprised when I opened it up and found myself reading an acceptance letter. Not that I am surprised that they accepted me--I'm not, ASU was my safety net--but I am surprised that I got it so quickly.

They not only accepted me, they really accepted me. There was a note from the Dean on the bottom with some nonsense about my strengths scrawled in terrible handwriting. (I thought my handwriting was bad) They seem to really like me. Maybe they will really like me enough to give me a scholarship.

It's a relief knowing that I got in at least one place. I like knowing that I am definitely going to law school somewhere. Of course, if I get in to GW or BYU, I will probably turn down ASU, although that depends on the scholarship issue. If they gave me a full ride, it would be hard to turn down. Look at me, I sound like an arrogant jerk. Like I said, it's a relief knowing that my plans are a little more definite than they were last week. It seems for the last year I have been floating around trying to figure out what I am doing. My life seemed to be the lyrics of Jamie Cullum's twentysomething. There you go. My answer to the question of what to do after college: go back to school.

I learned something this weekend. Saturday afternoon I didn't have anything planned for the evening. I was chatting with a friend, and we decided to go see Ray. However, she was going out to dinner with her family, so we weren't going to go until later. Feeling in desperate need of getting out of the house, I called another friend and we made plans to go out to eat.

When I got to the restaurant the other girl, dinner friend, (so a lot of my friends are girls, so what?) asked me if I wanted to go see Finding Neverland with her. I explained that I already had plans, but she pressured me to go with her anyway. She was giving me such crap about it that, thinking that saying no would never work, I finally agreed. We were looking up showtimes when movie friend called. As her home echoes a lot, dinner friend heard me blowing off movie friend. When I got off the phone, dinner friend says "so you don't actually want to go?" I almost flipped. I explained that it was apparent to me that she would take no for an answer, so I agreed. She told me that she needs people to stand up to her, and not let her talk them into things. She promised in the future not to be so pushy, and to take no for an answer the first time, rather than needing multiple negative responses.

Well, it was too late to do anything different, so I went Finding Neverland with dinner friend.

On the way home, I still felt pretty bad, so I called up movie friend and apologized. She seemed pretty steamed. (and she was) Today she told me that what bothered her the most was that just the day before she had told someone how conscientious I was, and in all the time she had known me, I had always done what I said I was going to do. It was nice to hear that she thought that of me, but devastating that I had screwed it up. It's like I lost my trustworthiness virginity.

I guess you never know what you had until it's gone, and then you want to kill yourself trying to get it back again.

Being Sexy, Feeling Stupid, and Speaking Russian

2004-11-17T19:53:00.000-07:00

So, apparently Jude Law is the sexiest man alive. I guess last year it was Johnny Depp. What I find disturbing is the fact that I actually like both of them as actors. Jude Law made Gattaca an incredible movie (although the script and production design did more) and Johnny Depp is the only reason that Pirates of the Caribbean is a worthwhile movie. Without him, it's just a dumb show. Well, the music was good too, I guess. I think Sean Connery was the sexiest once too. (and many women agree that he still is)

I'm not sure I like the fact that actors that I respect are so, allegedly, sexy. Maybe I am more of a homophobe than I thought. I guess what it goes to show is that being sexy is much more than simply physical attractiveness. That is why guys who have no good looks at all have a chance. I think I might have been sexy once, but the woman who dubbed me such has probably changed her mind about it.

Apparently, a couple of former sexiest men are Richard Gere and Ben Afleck. In their case, I think my theory about sexy being more than physical is a load of crap. Not that I find them physically attractive, but I do find them to be idiots.

And we're off to another subject. Do you ever do something really dumb that is entirely your fault, there is no way you can pass the blame to anyone or anything at all, and it will cast boku bucks to fix? If I hadn't before, I have now. This morning on my way to work, I backed my car into my roommate's truck. I only nudged it, but it was enough. Chevy truck vs. Mazda 3, any guesses on the winner? Well, the rear bumper of this particular Chevy, comes exactly to the tail light on my little Mazda. Yup, I busted the driver's side brake light. But only a little bit. It still works just fine, and even doesn't look too bad, but it's bad enough. The only way to fix it is to replace the whole lens. But wait, it gets better. A new lens is only available at the dealer. This particular Mazda hasn't been opened up to aftermarket parts yet. Stupid mistake this morning: $183.

Amazing huh? Who knew that a hunk of plastic would cost that much? And that is the price of installing it myself. I shudder to think what the dealer would charge me.

Well, I keep forgetting that I am an idiot, so I guess it's good to get little reminders like this. Little reminders that only cost $183. Well, I'm not that much of an idiot. It can't be that long before the price drops, and I can handle handle the ugliness. I've been humiliated far too much in the past for this to be much of a problem.

In other news, I started a new job last Friday. I am now a Russian Linguist. I can't tell you who I work for, I would have to kill you. At first it was a bit overwhelming, but I am getting used to it. I am happy to report that my Russian is much better than I thought it was. And my Oxford Russian-English dictionary (aka "The Big One") is much better than I deserve.

The cool thing about Russian is that all you have to be able to do is read it, and people think that you are incredible. You can have no clue what it all means, but just being able to pronounce it, and sound like you are pronouncing it correctly, and people are hugely impressed. That fact explains why I have this job. : )

Largely due to the new job, I have been on a huge Russian kick lately. I've been listening to Земфира, and some Russian pop, reading Harry Potter in Russian, and last night I watched The Hunt For Red October. Now I just need to find a Russian-speaking girl to date. (Not a Russian, just a Russian-speaker. I still have issues with Russian girls from my mission.)

If this continues, I could run out of Russian material. I'll have to dig the books that I bought on my mission out and struggle through Crime and Punishment in Russian. I think I might have to have to buy Russian Ark.

Eternity

2004-11-08T15:37:00.000-07:00

I found this picture amusing and disturbing at the same time, so I thought I would share it.

The Election, Halloween, Frustrating Typos, Family Psychology, and The Incredibles

2004-11-07T22:39:00.000-07:00

It's a little late to be saying it, but I am sure glad the election is over. Thank goodness it ended Wednesday. Kudos to John Kerry for not bringing lawyers into the fray. It was nice to see the whole thing ended respectfully--it almost made up for the ugliness of the whole campaign.

I know it's been a while since Halloween too, but I just have to mention one of the most tasteless things I saw that weekend. I was at a Halloween dance, and somebody there was dressed up as Osama Bin Laden. Another was dressed as an Arab Militant. Does anyone else see anything wrong with this? My roommate seemed to think it was funny, but it just made me sick to my stomach. You don't see anyone dressed up as Hitler, or an SS officer for Halloween, do you? The fact that it was at a Mormon dance made me feel even worse about it. For some reason I expect members of my Church to have more sensitivity, or at least be cleaner, than most other people their age. I guess not. Maybe next year that guy will dress up as Lilburn W. Boggs.

I sent in the last (I think) of my law school applications last week. As I was adapting my personal statement to the other schools, I noticed a huge mistake on the statements that I already mailed off. It was just a small word that should have gotten deleted when I changed a sentence. Just a small mistake, but it makes me look like an idiot. It gave me a sick feeling in my stomach, like I just bombed a test that was fifty percent of my grade. Maybe if I didn't notice it at first, they won't. :) As if they are going to read it more than once anyway.

I had a dating epiphany last night. I never feel a connection with girls who are the eldest child, and I get along best with girls who, like me, are the youngest in their families. It's such a minor thing, it seems, but I think there is something to it. It's amazing how one's place in the family affects one's psychology. The first child usually ends up more responsible, almost like the second mother or father. I've been told that middle children are obsessed with things being fair, and we youngest are the most carefree. I don't think I am that irresponsible, or that I really have all that much fun, but I understand youngest children better. They seem to be more laid back. Eldest children seem kind of boring and stuffy. I don't relate to them very well at all. This is not an invitation to those who are eldest in their families to rip on me and tell me how good I had it.

I saw The Incredibles on Friday night, and it is now my favorite film. The underlying theme, which most people will probably never think about, was a protest against mediocrity. The film depicts a world, very much like our own, where all of the average people pull down the special ones in an attempt to make them just like everybody else. Jealous of unusual talents and accomplishments, and unable, or unwilling to be special themselves, they litigate away their heroes, forcing them to be ineffective cubicle dwellers.

Do we see any of that in our own lives? Are we annoyed with people who make better decisions than we do? Do we delight in the petty mistakes of the 'special ones?' Ours is a nation where a former President who gave in to temptation is adored, because his mistakes justify the infidelity of the masses. In our schools, children are ridiculed for being smart, and being different is a social death sentence.

So I ask you, who are your heroes? Are you upset when they refuse to lower themselves to the standards of the rest of the world? What are your own talents? Do you let them out to serve others, or are you afraid of being cut down to the same level as the rest of the grass on the lawn?

Some people see an animated feature for kids, I see film being used as a medium for social commentary. And a really cool movie.

Down with Gated Communities and Other Random Thoughts

2004-10-28T16:29:00.000-06:00

Some random thoughts while uploading files to the company server. This task leaves me with a bit of down time (even more than normal) in front of the ol' computer.

Trying to clean blood off of a shirt using the bleeding appendage that caused the stain in the first place is not very effective. Fortunately, I remembered to use cold water. Worked like a charm. Funny how little success stories like that make you feel better about yourself. Next time I feel down about anything, I should just remember, hey, I can clean blood off of a shirt. At least, I can before the stain sets. So I guess it's not that much of an achievement. Whatever, I was still master of the universe for a second there.

Any of you have an especially touching relationship with your computer? I do. I used to love it more than my car, but then I got a new car, and now it's a toss up. My computer is better company than some girls--it's always there for me, has never let me down, and does what I tell it to do. I am not looking for all of those things in a girl, but they are awesome qualities in a computer. Sure, it doesn't return phone calls, but then, I never call my computer either. And I suppose it would be lousy company at a wedding reception, which is one of the good things about having a girl around.

I just mentioned the other day to my roommate, that if I have to go to a wedding reception, which I don't, he was the one going, it's best to go with a girl so that I don't feel like an idiot standing in that line by myself, or worse, with a bunch of guys.

I was visiting some friends the other day, and the existence of gated communities started to piss me off again. There are numerous people that I know whose apartment complexes are enclosed in a wall with a gate that requires a code to get in. I understand needing to buzz someone's apartment to enter in places like New York City, but in Chandler, there just doesn't seem to be a need. I am positive that they exist here to annoy me. Why on earth would you want to live in a place where no one can visit you without a password? Do we have to wall ourselves out of society? Can I rest better at night knowing that there is a gate keeping people out of my parking lot? It's not like there is a dome over the place, if someone really wants to get in, they could certainly think of a way. And I can't even remember the last time a solicitor came by. The only way you would get me in one of those places is to let me live there for free.

That sounds like one of those statements that someone will use against me in the future.

Seriously, what does that say about our society when the people who have money, or who think they have money, feel the need to wall themselves off from the rest of humanity? Especially in an area that is not particularly dangerous. Is it a status thing? Does it make them feel more affluent? Or is it just another thing that the landlord can use to justify higher rent? In fact, I think a gate would only encourage thieves. If you have a gate, you must be protecting something, right?

I certainly agree that the world is indeed going to hell in a handbasket, but I don't think walling yourself off is going to help. Especially when anyone in reasonable health can simply climb over it. Not to mention that any reasonably intelligent thief can simply wait for the right time, and follow some other car in.

Well, enough of that. The files are done uploading. Thanks for listening, and now back to your regularly scheduled program.

White Boy at the Car Wash

2004-10-25T00:05:00.000-06:00

Yesterday I got my car washed. You never realize just how dirty your car is until you get it washed. In the case of my car, it didn't look all that bad, but dang does it look good now. According to a friend of mine, I talk about my car too much. (Which isn't exactly true. I just talk about my car too much to her.) However, the subject of this posting is more about the car wash itself than my car.

Francis and Sons Car Wash is on Ray road just east of Cooper in Gilbert. I have no idea who Francis is, and I didn't see anyone that could be called his son either. The car wash is one of those places where they send your car through an automatic car wash, then an army of workers, in t-shirts that they would certainly not wear unless paid to, clean up everything that the machine missed. Almost. Invariably, they miss something. I feel like a jerk nit picking over dirt on my wheels, so I just drive home and touch it up there. The people working on my car seem to be working pretty hard while I sit and watch, so it bugs me to ask them to clean a spot that they missed. I also hesitate to complain when it's not likely that I would be understood. (More on that below.)

Now, I'm a believer in car washes mainly because I don't want to go buy the things that I need to wash my car, It would take me ten times longer to do it, and it's cheap enough that I would much rather let someone else do it for me. Unfortunately this makes me feel like an over-privileged pasty white jerk. Yes, I sat and watched while an army of Mexicans took on the dirt that all of the white people around me didn't want to clean up.

Now I have no problem with paying people to clean things. Housekeeping is an honest profession, and for some people, it takes a lot of stress out of their life knowing that they can have someone take care of that for them. The reason this car wash experience bothered me is that all of the people doing the work were all of the same ethnic group. The only white people there was the guy who greeted me when I turned my ba... I mean my car over to the big clean machine, and the cashier that I gave my money to. This bothered me a bit at first. My first impression was that the company didn't trust any of the Mexicans with the money, and that made me mad.

I mentioned to my roommate, who also happened to be getting his car washed, (coupon for 1 free wash in the mail!) that it was interesting that the only white girl there was the cashier. He shrugged and said that it seemed pretty normal to him: she spoke english. All of the sudden I felt like an idiot. I am almost positive that none of the people washing my car spoke english. This is why I hesitate to complain about dirt on my wheels. (Well, that, and the fact that I don't want to be anal, but I guess it's too late for that.)

Of course the company has someone who can speak english at the cash register. It's one of two crucial parts of the system. The other white guy who spoke english was the one who greeted me and asked me whether I wanted the basic wash or the xtreme deluxe package.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think that white people are the only ones who can speak english, far from it. But in this case, they probably were.

Even with the language justification, it still bothered me that only the Mexicans were out sweating over my car. It made me want to do it myself. Then I realized that they don't want me to do it myself. If everyone washed their own car, then these particular people wouldn't have a job. I've had jobs where I didn't have enough to do, and so I didn't get paid. If it were me, I would want everyone to bring me their car.

Then again, I don't really know what their situation is. Is this the only job they can find? How hard would it be to find another one? Do they like their job? Nobody seemed to unhappy, and it has to be better than working at some other places. I would rather wash cars than flip burgers. How much do they make? Is it lower because they are discriminated against? What is their citizenship status?

Back in DC where I was raised, I never really thought about whether people were citizens or not. It was never an issue. I never had a problem with anybody not speaking english. Even the Pakistani guy (Don't call him Indian!) at 7-11 spoke english.

It's weird, but I feel whiter here in Arizona than I ever did growing up in Maryland. Whiter than I ever felt at my high school, which had to be at least 65, if not 70 per cent black. It seems to be more of a division here, but I'm not sure why. I suppose it's because of the immigration issue. I've heard more racist remarks here than I ever did anywhere else because of illegal immigration. Even Russia wasn't as bad, and a few of them had some pretty racist views. (Due to Soviet anti-capitalist propaganda, but that's another issue)

The point is, I don't like feeling like an affluent white guy. I feel like I should wash my own dang car. But what do the people washing my car think? Would it be better for me to do things myself and remove those jobs from the economy, or should I spend money to have lower-income workers do more things for me that I could, and quite possibly should, do myself?

It's easy to get mad at the system and refuse to participate, but does it accomplish anything? Removing my business from the equation isn't going to help anyone. It only means that I have ten bucks more to spend on something else.

I suppose I could ask the car-washers about it. Gotta learn some spanish first. Or maybe I could pay someone to speak spanish for me...

Maybe it was tasteless, but that last line was a joke.

Alaska, and other adventures I was compelled to undertake

2004-10-21T23:52:00.000-06:00

I seem to have a tendency to be attracted to adventurous women. They are well educated, they are very busy and they do things that most people don't take the time to do. Like living in a foreign country teaching english, or backpacking across another continent. I suppose I am attracted to these types because they have a lot more to say than most. It's better than talking about your job at the local hair salon.

This attraction of mine places me in an awkward position. One, I feel like a slacker, who doesn't do anything unless compelled to, and two, I don't want to limit such a person's freedom by tying them down in a relationship with me.

Now, I know I have done a lot in my life, but it seems like I was compelled to most of the time. I went to Russia to serve an LDS mission. I felt it was my duty to do so. I would have gone even if I was sent to Kansas. Because of this, I feel like my experience there wasn't something that can be attributed to my sense of adventure or passion for life or anything. I lived in New York City for three months too. But I had an internship that was part of my education, and so that doesn't seem to count either. Last February I went to Alaska. That was pretty adventurous, but if someone offers you that much money a week, you would probably do it too.

I suppose in a way I wish I could just pack up and go to Europe, or Africa or something, but I can't justify it in my own mind. Things in my life have to be categorized. I feel like I can only do those things if they fit into a larger goal. NYC was part of my education. Alaska was all about financial independence, etc. I think my upbringing and mormon culture have a lot to do with it. It's been drilled into my head since birth that I need to provide for a family and be responsible, and that has translated into focusing on things that further my education, career, or religious duties.

Now, I know what a lot of you are going to say. Some of you have already said it. Backpacking across Europe, or any other big experience like that, build character, teach resourcefulness, help you think outside the box, and introduce you to different cultures and people. I know. But it still doesn't fit with the way I think. I feel a need for tangible benefits. Even NYC had some tangible benefits--I learned that I was going into the wrong field. I recently spent a bunch of money on a car, much more than a trip to Europe would have cost. However, the car fits in my mind because it is a tangible thing, and a necessary thing, (even though I could have spent less on a lesser car) and I use it every day. The expense is much more justified in my mind, rather than a bunch of experiences in a far off place.

Now, even if I didn't think the way I do, I am not so sure that I would do anything all that adventurous. I think it is a comfort-zone issue. I'm not sure that I have the guts. Of course, that's me thinking of doing it by myself. A buddy to do it with makes all the difference. You can psych each other up to be much more adventurous than you would on your own. If that was the case, then yeah, I'd go live in Africa for a few months. Maybe I just need an adventurous woman to take me along with her.

Now, I am OK with not being as adventurous as the girls I date, as long as they are OK with it. The problem arises in what I want past dating. I don't want to be the reason a woman gives up all of the cool things she wants to do. I don't want to ask someone to stay in suburbia just so that I can have the family that I want.

Looking back on this, I don't think I give myself enough credit. Most of the things I have done weren't exactly forced on me. But they're not the same as taking off to southeast Asia with the peace corps. Adventurous girls still make me feel like a slacker.

But I like them anyway.

Forgiveness, or, Have I Learned To Stop Being Angry and Love My Neighbor?

2004-10-18T00:24:00.000-06:00

The Red Sox just beat the Yankees in extra innings after losing on Saturday in one of the most embarrassing games ever. I'm not a huge baseball fan, but It's nice to see miracles happen. If it can happen in sports, then why can't I follow up a huge mistake/embarrassing moment with 15 minutes of pure genius or a major accomplishment?

I managed to see a couple of movies this weekend. Saints and Soldiers surprised me. It was very well done, especially considering the budget. I especially loved that it wasn't too overtly Mormon. It simply had a Mormon main character. It was like watching a movie where a catholic figured prominently in the story. It was normal. Too many so-called "mormon" films tend to shout out "look at us, we're weird," or "look at us, aren't we wonderful?" It's nice to see a Mormon film be normal, and simply tell a story.

[Note: The following thoughts just came out as I typed. I didn't even know they were there.]

I also saw The Final Cut. If anyone actually reads this, go out and see this movie. It was fantastic. When you go, let me know, because I think I need to see it again. It demands thought, and I need to see it again to finish formulating my thoughts. When a sci-fi film leads me to think about the Atonement of Christ and how it relates to my life, it's worth seeing a second time. It's always fascinating to think about how one's own mistakes affect the way one lives and associates with other people, and their own mistakes. Do you find yourself more forgiving because of the errors you have made, or are you more hardened and merciless toward others? In other words, do you treat others how you wish to be treated, or how you think you yourself should be treated? What do you think?

This reminds me of an conversation with my ex-fiancee that really alarmed me. We had just watched The Two Towers and I had mentioned how I pitied Gollum. For once in his miserable existence, when he came into contact with Frodo, someone treated him well. Sam, on the other hand, treated him as he saw him--with disgust. Gollum's miserable existence had made him what he was. Her response: "He's still a murderer." She didn't pity him at all. She saw him as a murderer and that was it. He deserved nothing.

Now, I don't think that he was a wonderful person, and I can't condone the act of murder, but he was still an intelligent creature, worthy of some kind of pity. Sure, he made a huge mistake. Was he paying for it? Oh yes. Will he ever fully pay for it? Probably not. Is treating him like dirt his due, or merely a sign of Sam's own imperfection? What is my own reaction when I come across someone who has committed horrifying acts? Do I stare in horror at the monster before me? Or do I sadly gaze upon the poor child of God who, in all probability, has no idea what he has done?

Now, I am not talking about Hitler, or Osama bin Laden, or anyone else who knowingly murdered thousands of people. I don't think I am sufficiently advanced to forgive, or even pity such people. However, what about someone who briefly lost control, and is now paying for it? How about a teenager who gave in to temptation, and will be regretting it for the rest of his life? Such cases only weigh down my heart with pity. That poor child has no idea what he has done...

The ex seemed pretty cold and unforgiving at times. I wonder what she went through that caused that?

Now let's apply this to me and see if I am as good and merciful as I think I am. The ex didn't do anything near as bad to me, not even anything that one could consider a sin. What do I think about her? I like to think that I have completely forgiven her and that I feel no animosity toward her, but I am afraid of what I would feel were I to see her tomorrow. I would like to type that I have no hard feelings toward her, but I just tried to and couldn't. I guess that answers my question. Amazing, the things you can feel without even knowing it.

Ouch. Abstract thoughts on forgiveness sure can cut to the bone when you apply them to your own life. Once again, I have learned the truth about myself, and am not sure that I like it. Add that to the list of things to work on.

I better add a little footnote here. I don't think that my ex-fiancee has committed some horrifying or evil deed. I just thought of the person that has caused me the most pain and she happened to be it. I may not have completely forgiven her, as I have just learned, but I don't think she is in need of repentance, just that I am.

Memories of the first car I drove

2004-10-13T19:18:00.000-06:00

This is an excerpt from the personal statement I composed as a part of my law school applications. I had almost forgotten this little experience. It was a surprisingly entertaining project. If you don't have anything to do, go ahead and take the front end off of a 1987 Nissan Sentra. It looks pretty funny underneath, and you get a nice feeling of accomplishment when you put it back together and it still works.

When I was sixteen, my older sister graduated from high school, which meant that I got to drive my Dad to the Metro stop, and take our little blue car to school. It wasn’t much, but it was a set of wheels. Unfortunately, my sister had crumpled the front bumper in a minor accident. The car looked horrible. Discussing it with my Dad, I mentioned that we should have it repaired. “Go ahead,” was his response. The next Saturday I went to work. I had no idea how the bumper was attached to the car, or the work involved, but I knew what I wanted. I took the entire front end of the car apart figuring out what to do. Finally, I managed remove the bumper and straighten it out by the ingenious application of my own body weight. It was at this moment that my father returned home. I am certain that, upon seeing various parts of the car spread out on the driveway, he regretted his words. However, I managed to put everything back in the right place, and the car looked a lot better. This experience, like many others in my life, taught me a simple lesson. More important than what you want in life, is what you are willing to do to get it.

So, it gets a little preachy, but it was for an application. I hate writing such things about myself. It always annoys me when I have to sound impressive.

Word of the [Unspecified Time Period]

2004-10-13T12:04:00.000-06:00

bi·fur·cate
v. bi·fur·cat·ed, bi·fur·cat·ing, bi·fur·cates
v. tr.
To divide into two parts or branches.

v. intr.
To separate into two parts or branches; fork.

adj. (-kt, -kt)
Forked or divided into two parts or branches, as the Y-shaped styles of certain flowers.

[Medieval Latin bifurcre, bifurct-, to divide, from Latin bifurcus, two-pronged : bi-, two; see bi-1 + furca, fork.]

It's been surreal, it's been fun, it's been surreal fun

2004-10-12T18:31:00.001-06:00

For some reason, I have lost feeling in my right big toe. Partially. It feels like it's one big callous. Call me crazy, but it might just be a result of this:
Yes, last weekend I hiked part of that understatedly-named national treasure, the Grand Canyon. The name doesn't even begin to describe it. If it were up to me, I would have called it The Incredibly Huge Hole." That fits a little better.

It's good for me to have friends that invite me to do things like this, because I probably wouldn't get off of my lazy butt and go on my own. Not like Andre. We met Andre on the way back up. (when things started to go downhill, and yet, they didn't. I guess that figure of speech doesn't work here) He's from Montreal and was in Vegas for business when he decided to hike the Grand Canyon while he was in the area. How cool is that? If it were me, I would have wasted the whole time at a hotel or something boring. Andre, you're my hero.

I don't know how to describe the hike. I could dwell on how hard it was, on how much my feet hurt, and how rediculously steep the climb back up was, but that doesn't cover it. I could talk about the amazing scenery, and show you the pictures, but that doesn't really cover it either. It's something that you have to experience in person. My description, visual or literal, is not going to come close.

The strangest thing was that it didn't seem real, even when you were staring at it. The colors didn't seem right, the scope was too big. At times it seemed that you could reach out and touch the image in front of you, and it would ripple like some backdrop. It was surreal.

Pardon me while I wax religious, but I don't see how you can experience the Grand Canyon (in all of it's capitalized glory) and not feel that there is a God. Sure, sure, it's erosion over thousands of years, and exposed strata, and all of that geology stuff, but the feeling in my heart cannot deny the existence of my Creator when presented with the grandeur of His creations. Alma said that "All things do witness that there is a Supreme Creator." (Alma 30:44) The Incredibly Huge Hole is most definitely one of those things.

Now that I have gone nearly to the bottom of the Grand Canyon and back up, one thing surprises me:

I want to go again.

I want to go all the way to the bottom, and then back up, perhaps even back up the other side, just so that I can say that I did.

I think I will wait about six months first.

Trains, Lawsuits, and Accidents

2004-10-12T17:29:00.000-06:00

I've been meaning to post on this one for a while now. I came across this article not long ago. Basically, this man in Poland gets run over by a train, and the government-owned rail company holds him responsible for costs incurred by the delay in service that occurred because of said man being run over by said train. Can you imagine what would have happened in this country? The rail company would be ridiculed if it tried a stunt like that. It's more likely that the rail company would be put out of business, due to legal fees and the compensation it would be forced to pay the injured man.

It reminds me of a story that I heard in a class. It seemed reputable at the time, but I don't have a reference for it. A homeless man had trespassed onto a construction site for a metro stop. The man was inebriated, and so ignored all of the warning signs, which wouldn't have done any good anyway, as the man was apparently illiterate. He managed to climb over a barbed wire fence and several barricades, on his way to the tracks, where he urinated on the third rail. He was electrocuted and died. Now, I am not making fun of this man, it's a tragic thing that he was in such a condition, and I certainly pity him. However, his family, who obviously didn't support him much in life, proceeded to sue the construction company and metro system, claiming that ther were at fault for the man's death.

They won.

Now, both of these cases are rather extreme, but there is a definite problem with lawsuits that seek to blame others for accidents, wrongful deaths, or what have you. Why can't anything be simply a tragic accident anymore? Why does it have to be someone's fault? John Ritter's wife is now suing his doctors claiming that they didn't do enough to prevent his death. At what point is something an accident, and at what point is someone responsible?

Isn't the fact that a doctor is trying to save someone's life enough to clear them of the blame for that person's death? Aren't they allowed to be human? It's getting to the point where you can't help someone in need out of fear for being sued if you make a mistake. "Yes, m'am, I attempted CPR and apparently I didn't blow hard enough. It is all my fault that your son now has brain damage."

There has to be a happy medium somewhere, but today I am too much of a pessimist to be able to imagine it being reached. What it all boils down to is people taking responsibility for themselves, and accepting the fact that sometimes, it's not anybody's fault. By the way, the Polish train company let the man off the hook after his house burned down. So, even if we do lay the blame on others, let's at least be forgiving.

Sorry, this has been a bit of a rant, but things like this have been bugging me for a while. Besides, it's my blog. Go get your own.

In other news, kudos to this man for trying to save his marriage. I hope I never have to pretend to be a hero for my wife. I'll just have to make sure I am the real thing.

Validate me, please.

2004-10-08T00:47:00.000-06:00

Today I suddenly realized that it is October.

After digesting that thought, it occurred to me that I better get law school applications in soon. They already started accepting them, so I should get busy.

Applying for schools, like applying for jobs, really messes with my self-esteem. I put everything I have done, all of my hard work, life experience, hopes, and dreams, and I seal it up in an envelope and mail it off, hoping that someone will open it up and like me. Please, validate my existence, confirm that I am as smart as I think I am. (Or would like to be)

This little civilization of ours seems to constantly try to boil people down into these little pieces of paper that, somehow, should reflect them as a person. Are you 8 1/2" by 11"? Or are you one of those annoying legal sizes? Man, I hope I never get old and yellow and lined like that guy over there...

I'm sure I'll get in somewhere. I've learned how to be a pretty dang good looking piece of paper. I've been complimented many times on my fonts.

There are no experts.

2004-10-08T00:26:00.000-06:00

The other day I was at the Mazda dealer having my car serviced. The only reason I was there was because it was free. (Who wants to wait over an hour to have the oil changed? I could have done it myself faster than that) While I was there, I decided to talk to the audio specialist about hooking up my iPod to the factory installed system. I waited an extra half-hour just to talk to him, only to find out that he is clueless. It took a while to explain to him what I wanted, and all he could tell me was to go to an after-market car audio place and see what they said. So much for being a specialist.

When I was a kid, it seemed like every adult was an expert. To my mind, if you were that old, you had to know what you were talking about. This assumption has slowly eroded over time. After becoming an adult, I had an alarming realization. First of all, I didn't know anything. I knew this, and was comfortable in my own ignorance. However, I was an adult. Suddenly I realized that there were a heck of a lot of adults out there who didn't know anything at all. I'm sure I had at least sensed this before, but becoming an adult drove it home. People don't know anything.

Since then, every time I need a question answered, or I need help from someone, I am alarmed by how little anyone knows. My assumption when I go in to any store now is that nobody will be able to help me out at all. For anything that I need in life, I have to be able to figure it out myself, or remain in ignorance.

Yes, this is a slight exaggeration. My father, and other people that I respect know quite a lot. But when I need to ask someone that I don't personally know, my assumption must always be that they will not be able to help me. Most of the time, I am right.

In a way, I suppose this is a good thing. It forces me to always learn things myself, and not to rely on someone else's word. On the other hand, it's rather disconcerting. If I am as ignorant as I think I am, how many ignorant people am I depending on every day of my life? It's pretty scary.

This is a dangerous idea that could develop into a full-blown paranoia. My brother-in-law mentioned not long ago that he didn't like the idea of riding the bus and putting his life in the hands of someone with less training and education (and less of a salary) than he had. If we let this idea rule our thinking, we wouldn't be able to do anything. Who can afford to have a bus driver with a master's degree? Should my waitress be a nutritionist? Of course not.

Part of living in society is occasionally depending on other people--sometimes just for lunch, other times for saving our lives. Maybe the EMT doesn't know the names of the valves of the heart or the reasons that your heart stopped, but he does know CPR. Isn't that enough? If everyone puts up with my ignorance, then surely I can put up with theirs.

Glimpses of My Lost Childhood

2004-10-05T21:37:00.000-06:00

Last weekend my sister gave me a bunch of old home movies that my parents shot a long time ago. They are all on 8mm and super-8mm film. I started looking through them for a little project I am starting. Many of them I had never seen before. They start with my parents' wedding, and continue up to when I was about a year or so old. Then they stopped shooting film for some reason. I'm not sure why. They didn't move on to videotape, they just stopped. I think they just got tired. After eight kids, I can understand that.

A little background would probably help to illustrate my feelings as I watched these old films. I am the youngest of eight children. My oldest brother is seventeen years older than me. The first six kids were pretty close in age, then there was a six year gap to my sister, then another two years before I came a long.

The result of this was that by the time I could really remember anything, most of my siblings were out of the house. It was almost as though I only had two sisters. Only in the past few years have I really gotten to know my older siblings very well. They have always been adults to me, and almost always have been parents themselves.

My older brother never hesitates to tell me how spoiled I am, how I had things he didn't have, was able to do things he couldn't do, etc. Apparently he always had to walk to school in knee-deep snow, uphill, both ways. :)

But what never gets mentioned is how I missed out on the closeness of my older siblings growing up. I never went on the big trips, and the vacations with a van full of kids. I don't remember my parents being as young as they appear in these old home movies. I never knew my grandparents as anything other than senile old people that no longer had the mental capacity to remember me.

As I watched these films, I was struck by the images of my grandfather. He was a very educated man with a PhD. in zoology. He was a college professor. By the time I knew him, I was twelve years old wondering why this old man with alzheimer's was living with us. He was always forgetting things. He grew a beard in his last few days because he couldn't find his electric razor. He taught me the same words in German every night, never remembering that he taught them to me the night before. (and yet, he always corrected my pronunciation) I never appreciated the man he was, because I never saw the man he was. On film he is noble, intelligent, and confident. With the help of these home movies I can see him as the great teacher that he was.

Seeing my parents as newlyweds was a revelation. By the time I came along, dad's back wasn't very good, and mom was always, well, mom. And while I knew that they were at some point young married people, It never occurred to me to think of them that way. Seeing them together right after they were married was like seeing them resurrected into young, beautiful people. They were the same people I have always known, but younger, fresher.

Although there is a large age gap between my older siblings and I, my frame of mind still puts me at the same level as them. Because I am in the same generation, I feel that I should be just as accomplished as they are. It's ludicrous, I know, but it's the way I think. And so, since I think of myself as an equal with my brothers and sisters, I feel that, upon seeing these films, I was somehow robbed of my childhood. Where were my young parents? Where was my noble, educated grandfather? When did I get to go across the country in a huge van with the whole family together in a huge van? (This may not sound all that fun to you, but it sounds awesome to me. The grass is always greener, I guess)

And yet, I wasn't robbed. I just wasn't dealt the same hand as the rest of my siblings. Will I always wish that I has some of the same experiences that they had? Yes, of course. But will I trade the person that I am now for those experiences? No. If I had the same experiences as my older brother, then I would be just like him, and he's already doing a fine job in that position. I will be content with the past that I know, and with the person that I am.

Separation from Evil and 'The Village'

2004-10-03T23:52:00.000-06:00

Note: Looking over this post, I have realized that it is more serious than I normally am. It's a serious subject, but don't worry, it's not going to be the theme of this blog. It gets a little preachy and cheesy, but I swear, it all just came out that way... Am I responsible for whatever my own catharses puke out?

For those of you who have not yet seen M. Night Shyamalan's film 'The Village,' you may not want to read this. I have attempted to limit my writing here to general concepts in the movie, and not give away anything. I absolutely hate it when people spoil movies for me. Someone told me about the ending of 'The Sixth Sense,' and I am annoyed by that to this day.

I just spoke with a friend of mine who finally saw 'The Village.' It brought back to mind all of the things that I thought about when I saw it, as well as some more recent developments in my family. The story centers around a village in Pennsylvania in the late nineteenth century, a place that has been founded as a refuge from the evil of 'the towns,' from the outside world. All of the elders in the town have had some loved one lost to them through horrible violence, and, in an effort to prevent such things from happening to them in the future, have decided to isolate themselves from other people. They are completely self sufficient and never leave. They do not even leave to obtain medicines, preferring to lose children to sickness, rather than contaminate them with the evil of the outside world. Despite distancing themselves from evil, they are not able to avoid it. A man is brutally stabbed, by one of their own. Sheltering themselves from evil did not prevent evil from touching them.

The film reminded me of a family I know. They live in a rural area, and are rather isolated sometimes. They don't get any television stations, they don't get the newspaper. They are very careful when choosing what comes into their home. Yet this has not prevented evil from touching them. They are now dealing with a very serious situation that has come about, not from outside the home, but from within it. Like the villagers in the film, they have sheltered themselves from evil, but are not able to avoid its touch.

I respect their desire to shelter themselves, just as I respect the characters in the film for doing so. However, I think that when we isolate ourselves from the world, it is easy to pretend that the evil isn't there. I think what we need to understand is that there is a potential for evil among all of us. I recently read a short story by Ray Bradbury. A comment by one of the characters in the story struck me enough to copy it down.

"Until men know two things," the character says, "the world will go merrily on to hell. First, we must see that in every good man lurks a reverse image of evil. Conversely, in every sinner there is a marrow of good. Locking people into either category spells anarchy. Thinking a man good, we risk his duplicity. Thinking a man bad, we deny sanctuary. Most are sinner-saints. Schweitzer was a near-saint who bottled his imp, or at least let it run on a leash. Hitler was Lucifer, but somewhere in him wasn't there a child frantic for escape?"

For those of you who don't know, and I didn't, Albert Schweitzer was a scholar, musician, doctor and theologian who devoted most of his life to providing health care for people in Africa. The above quotation leapt out at me more than anything else in the story. In fact, I can't even remember the rest of the story. All people are capable of being either good or evil, and sometimes they surprise us. Every good man has his mistakes that he loathes, and every evil man has done a few good things. Even Mussolini made the trains run on time. Personally, I think it better to think a man good until he proves otherwise, and even then remember that he is capable of leashing his own particulare imp.

And so, returning to the question of isolation, how can you isolate yourself from evil when it is among you? Dostoevsky wrote that you cannot draw the line between good and evil because it "runs throught the heart of every man." Avoiding evil is all fine and good, but let us recognize that it is there. And rather than just avoid evil, spread the good. Focus on the things that enable all of us to keep chained the evil within. Shadows cannot exist in a room filled with light, neither can evil triumph in a heart focused on doing good.

to blog, or not to blog...

2004-10-03T21:51:00.000-06:00

I have a blog now. Just like everybody else.

A friend of mine has been bugging me about starting one, so I could blame it on her, but to be honest, I already wanted one. My reasons for this are still not entirely clear. I've been thinking it through, trying to figure out why I want one. I hate doing things for no reason.

It can't be an ego thing, because who is actually going to read it? Oh, sure, it would be really cool if I somehow became famous on the net and everybody wanted to know what I thought about everything, what I ate for breakfast, and decided to name their first-born children after me. (Something that I do not recommend. I'll cover names in a later posting) I think we all know that this is not likely to happen. My views aren't ever that popular.

It can't be to sway people's minds to what I think is right, because we have already established the fact that no one is likely to read this, at least, no one who thinks all that differently than myself. And the people that do think differently, well, they are not likely to change their minds. You know who you are.

So what's the point? I finally narrowed it down to a couple of things. One, I actually enjoy writing, and would like more practice than email sent to coworkers. Two, I think an outlet such as this might force me to write more regularly. Maybe it will help me keep my personal journal more or less current. I'm not sure that this would happen, but it's a nice thought. Finally, I have found that I am not really sure how I feel about something untill discuss it. The title of this blog is 'razgavori,' which is Russian for 'conversations.' I suppose, in a way, I envision posts here to be conversations with myself. Through my writings I am better able to understand how I myself think. Sometimes I don't understand my own opinions until I get them out. I don't plan on only talking to myself, however. Comments will always be welcome.

So there you go. Blair has a blog. Let's see how it goes.