This is another one of those throw-away posts where I try to make sure I get my weekly post in, but I don't have a lot of time, so it's short and not very meaningful.
Anyway, I've been remembering that when I was six years old, we had little leprechaun cut outs. One of them had a shamrock that said "Erin Go Bragh" on it. Since I was only in kindergarten, I figured that was him telling a boy named Aaron to go brag. Even at six, I think I realized such a thing didn't make sense, especially coming from a leprechaun.
My mom told me it meant "Ireland Forever." I'm not sure how she knew that, because this was before the Internet was a thing.
(I was excited and confused when we went into a fabric store and it had very similar leprechauns in the windows.)
Saturday, February 27, 2016
Sunday, February 14, 2016
Meeting a murder victim
While most of these blog posts are frivolous and even amusing, here is a memory that is shocking and sad.
On February 22, 2008, I recorded in my mission journal, "We contacted a less-active, smoking, former pothead young person."
I don't remember a whole lot about that visit. We were looking for people we didn't know on our ward list, and there were several at that address. I think it was a yellow house. The only person home was one Tanner, who was very friendly and let us come in and chat. He hadn't been to church in a long time; I think he was a prospective elder, meaning he had been ordained to an Aaronic priesthood office but not beyond. He was very friendly, and I think he told us that we could come back some time. I don't think he was interested in church, but he was fine with us visiting.
On March 1, I was on an exchange, meaning I was in my area with a different missionary. I was driving around a neighborhood, and my temporary companion noted that there were news cameras and lots of flowers in the yard of the house we were passing. I was just focused on driving and getting around the traffic, so I didn't really pay attention to where we were.
Then that evening, we had dinner at our bishop's house. We had reported the previous Sunday about our visit with Tanner, and our bishop told us that he had been murdered! He and his girlfriend had been murdered by another man, who then tried to burn the house down. The firefighters had discovered the bodies.
It was quite shocking, of course, and sad. Tanner had seemed like a nice young man with a great potential. As my journal entry indicates, he was apparently overcoming drugs. That night I met up with my companion again and he was shocked.
In the ensuing days, there was discussion about his funeral, since he lived in our ward. His mom didn't want anything religious at all for the funeral, while his dad, who lived someplace else, still attended church, as I believe Tanner had told us. Thus it was hard for his dad.
Another missionary in our district knew someone who had been a firefighter or a detective or something, and he told us that the murderer had stabbed the two together with a samurai sword. Turns out that wasn't entirely true, but it was close. He also said that they found the murderer because he left a bloody handprint on the wall. I can't confirm the veracity of that.
I'm not sure what got me remembering that incident this week. You can read some of the articles here and here.
On February 22, 2008, I recorded in my mission journal, "We contacted a less-active, smoking, former pothead young person."
I don't remember a whole lot about that visit. We were looking for people we didn't know on our ward list, and there were several at that address. I think it was a yellow house. The only person home was one Tanner, who was very friendly and let us come in and chat. He hadn't been to church in a long time; I think he was a prospective elder, meaning he had been ordained to an Aaronic priesthood office but not beyond. He was very friendly, and I think he told us that we could come back some time. I don't think he was interested in church, but he was fine with us visiting.
On March 1, I was on an exchange, meaning I was in my area with a different missionary. I was driving around a neighborhood, and my temporary companion noted that there were news cameras and lots of flowers in the yard of the house we were passing. I was just focused on driving and getting around the traffic, so I didn't really pay attention to where we were.
Then that evening, we had dinner at our bishop's house. We had reported the previous Sunday about our visit with Tanner, and our bishop told us that he had been murdered! He and his girlfriend had been murdered by another man, who then tried to burn the house down. The firefighters had discovered the bodies.
It was quite shocking, of course, and sad. Tanner had seemed like a nice young man with a great potential. As my journal entry indicates, he was apparently overcoming drugs. That night I met up with my companion again and he was shocked.
In the ensuing days, there was discussion about his funeral, since he lived in our ward. His mom didn't want anything religious at all for the funeral, while his dad, who lived someplace else, still attended church, as I believe Tanner had told us. Thus it was hard for his dad.
Another missionary in our district knew someone who had been a firefighter or a detective or something, and he told us that the murderer had stabbed the two together with a samurai sword. Turns out that wasn't entirely true, but it was close. He also said that they found the murderer because he left a bloody handprint on the wall. I can't confirm the veracity of that.
I'm not sure what got me remembering that incident this week. You can read some of the articles here and here.
Saturday, February 13, 2016
This shirt
Last week I found this shirt in a tote in our garage, so I posted this picture on social media:
It got me thinking about what I remember about the little shirt.
I can vaguely remember getting these pictures taken at the main room at Kids Klub, the daycare/preschool my mom worked at. My mom says I was three when it was taken.
I remember wearing this shirt at my grandparents' old house and someone commenting on it.
In fourth grade, we had to bring pictures of ourselves as babies and guess whose was whose. I took one of the pictures from this photo shoot, while most of my classmates brought actual baby pictures, and I was disappointed that everyone recognized me. (One boy in one of the other classes brought a picture of himself in the tub, so the teacher had to put up a sticker that said "No peeking.")
Then in fifth grade, I obviously could no longer wear the shirt, so I remember discussing making it into a quilt. But now I don't want it as a quilt, because that could destroy it, and the tiny shirt is adorable for its size.
Now I have to decide what to do with it, because I feel bad just putting it back in a tote in the garage.
(In case you couldn't tell, this post was made just so that I wouldn't miss posting this week.)
It got me thinking about what I remember about the little shirt.
I can vaguely remember getting these pictures taken at the main room at Kids Klub, the daycare/preschool my mom worked at. My mom says I was three when it was taken.
I remember wearing this shirt at my grandparents' old house and someone commenting on it.
In fourth grade, we had to bring pictures of ourselves as babies and guess whose was whose. I took one of the pictures from this photo shoot, while most of my classmates brought actual baby pictures, and I was disappointed that everyone recognized me. (One boy in one of the other classes brought a picture of himself in the tub, so the teacher had to put up a sticker that said "No peeking.")
Then in fifth grade, I obviously could no longer wear the shirt, so I remember discussing making it into a quilt. But now I don't want it as a quilt, because that could destroy it, and the tiny shirt is adorable for its size.
Now I have to decide what to do with it, because I feel bad just putting it back in a tote in the garage.
(In case you couldn't tell, this post was made just so that I wouldn't miss posting this week.)
Friday, February 5, 2016
A history of my seasonal eating habits
People are often intrigued when they learn that I only eat seasonal desserts and candies, and it leads them to ask a few questions.
One of them is "Why?" Well, it started out as a health thing, but today I view it as both a health thing and simply a fun thing. I like living my life this way.
Another question is "How long have you been doing this?" This question is harder to answer, because it has gone through changes throughout the years. This blog will attempt to show some of the ways this habit has evolved and note some key events. Through the years, it has gotten stricter, less complicated, and more enjoyable.
The idea started in 2003, when I read a Reader's Digest article that said that you shouldn't diet at Christmastime, because then you will think, "Oh, it's Christmas, so I can splurge," and it ends up backfiring. (You have to understand that I was always overweight and obese growing up, so this was something I needed to be concerned about.)
Well, somehow I morphed that into my first prototype. I could only eat one each of junk food in a day. So if I went to a party, I could have a donut and a cookie, but I couldn't have two cookies. I also included potato chips, and I think crackers, in this one-only rule. (I don't remember what I did about tortilla chips, because I seem to remember eating a lot of chips and salsa.) I think it also included fruit snacks, granola bars, and other packaged snacks.
However, if a junk-food item was seasonally appropriate (usually meaning it was holiday-themed), then I could eat as much of it as I wanted. So if you presented me with a bowl of generic M&Ms, I could only eat one. But if you presented me with a bowl of red, pink, and white M&Ms in early February, I could eat handfuls. (Defining "one" was sometimes a challenge. I don't want to bore you with all the specifics of that.)
Soon after I started this rule, we had visiting relatives, and my mom made a pan of brownies. Well, I ate my brownie quota for the day, and there was the full pan of brownies, tempting me. It was then that I came up with a system that for everything I ate beyond my allotted quota, I had to do ten situps. This was not something I could do all the time, just something I could do in certain situations. I mostly used it when eating treats was unavoidable, or when I was on vacation.
This dietary pattern continued until spring break 2006. We had gone to Moab, and after doing lots of hiking, I was sure that when I got on the scale when we got home, I would have lost weight. I was shocked and disappointed when I found out that instead I had gained weight. And I realized it was due to all the unhealthy things I had eaten on the trip--lots of granola bars, minty ice cream sandwiches, and other things. So as I stood on that scale, I realized that the one-a-day rule just wasn't cutting it. I would have to cut out junk food entirely--unless it was seasonal, in which case I could eat as much as I wanted.
Now, that vow was immediately tested as our home teacher brought over a non-Eastery chocolate pie that very day. I don't remember how I handled that--whether I did the situp punishment, or whether I postponed starting my new vow, or whether I stayed strong. This was just a few days before Easter, and this presented another challenge, because once Easter is over, there are no holidays for a while.
I think when I started the zero-tolerance policy, I might have removed fruit snacks and granola bars from the junk food category, but I can't remember when that started. I know that I didn't remove chips from the forbidden list. (Today, however, chips and other savory junk foods are not forbidden; only sweet things.)
In 2007, before my mission, I had amassed a large queue of situps, so I decided that I could eat whatever I wanted and add to that queue until I cleared the queue--at which point it would be a no-tolerance policy again.
Well, I took that queue with me on my mission. I finally cleared the queue on Thanksgiving Day 2008--the day before my year mark. At that point I recommitted myself to not eating bad things. However, I wouldn't make a big deal out of it if someone plopped a dessert down in front of me (I would just add it to the queue), but if they asked me if I wanted it, I would say no.
It was at the end of 2008 that I decided that during the New Year season--December 26 through January 1--I could eat whatever I want. We had a huge pile of goodies people had given us, and that was the only way I could get through it. I have maintained the "anything goes" attitude for New Year's ever since then, for multiple reasons.
In more recent years, I have gotten stricter. I have returned fruit snacks and most (not all) granola bars to the forbidden list, and I no longer justify eating treats to prevent them from being thrown away (most of the time).
In the summer of 2011, I experimented with eating ice cream during the summer months. (Only popsicles and similar things are otherwise acceptable during June, July, and August.) I enjoyed eating ice cream, but it just didn't feel summery, so I cannot eat ice cream during the summer. (It has been more than a decade since I have seen patriotic ice cream. Otherwise I eat pumpkin, egg nog, red velvet, and mint ice cream--but not during the summer.)
In 2012, I began to be more open about these habits. Previously, I had mostly told it to family members and roommates, but I now bear the distinction with pride. In summer of 2012, I wrote a blog about these rules. They have evolved a little since then, but it's pretty close to how I have it now.
Also in 2012, I discontinued the practice of evoking the situp or pushup rule for eating whatever I want on vacation. Summer vacation 2012, I ate lots of candy and then did pushups or situps when I got home, but by the time of my Death Valley field trip in November or my Christmas California trip that year, I was living the same rules on vacation as I was at home. (2012 was truly a seminal year for me.)
In 2013, I finally felt these efforts pay off. On Easter, I felt a little sick after eating lots of candy, and in September, after a long dearth of seasonal goodies, I literally could not finish a piece of pumpkin cake in one setting. Years of only eating seasonal things had lowered my tolerance for sugar. I still can eat a lot of sugar, but I can't do so infinitely (like I think I could at one point).
Today, I prefer unique flavors in seasonal items. I will still eat things that simply have a seasonal shape or color, but I prioritize those with unique flavors, and this has become increasingly easy and enjoyable. In the past few years especially, there's been an abundance of products with seasonal flavors throughout the year: Oreos, M&Ms, Pop-Tarts, Dairy Queen Blizzards, Pizza Pie Cafe dessert pizza of the month, various chocolates, even candy corn. It's a wonderful time to be me!
I didn't want to get into the little details here, so if you have any questions, just ask. :)
One of them is "Why?" Well, it started out as a health thing, but today I view it as both a health thing and simply a fun thing. I like living my life this way.
Another question is "How long have you been doing this?" This question is harder to answer, because it has gone through changes throughout the years. This blog will attempt to show some of the ways this habit has evolved and note some key events. Through the years, it has gotten stricter, less complicated, and more enjoyable.
The idea started in 2003, when I read a Reader's Digest article that said that you shouldn't diet at Christmastime, because then you will think, "Oh, it's Christmas, so I can splurge," and it ends up backfiring. (You have to understand that I was always overweight and obese growing up, so this was something I needed to be concerned about.)
Well, somehow I morphed that into my first prototype. I could only eat one each of junk food in a day. So if I went to a party, I could have a donut and a cookie, but I couldn't have two cookies. I also included potato chips, and I think crackers, in this one-only rule. (I don't remember what I did about tortilla chips, because I seem to remember eating a lot of chips and salsa.) I think it also included fruit snacks, granola bars, and other packaged snacks.
However, if a junk-food item was seasonally appropriate (usually meaning it was holiday-themed), then I could eat as much of it as I wanted. So if you presented me with a bowl of generic M&Ms, I could only eat one. But if you presented me with a bowl of red, pink, and white M&Ms in early February, I could eat handfuls. (Defining "one" was sometimes a challenge. I don't want to bore you with all the specifics of that.)
Soon after I started this rule, we had visiting relatives, and my mom made a pan of brownies. Well, I ate my brownie quota for the day, and there was the full pan of brownies, tempting me. It was then that I came up with a system that for everything I ate beyond my allotted quota, I had to do ten situps. This was not something I could do all the time, just something I could do in certain situations. I mostly used it when eating treats was unavoidable, or when I was on vacation.
This dietary pattern continued until spring break 2006. We had gone to Moab, and after doing lots of hiking, I was sure that when I got on the scale when we got home, I would have lost weight. I was shocked and disappointed when I found out that instead I had gained weight. And I realized it was due to all the unhealthy things I had eaten on the trip--lots of granola bars, minty ice cream sandwiches, and other things. So as I stood on that scale, I realized that the one-a-day rule just wasn't cutting it. I would have to cut out junk food entirely--unless it was seasonal, in which case I could eat as much as I wanted.
Now, that vow was immediately tested as our home teacher brought over a non-Eastery chocolate pie that very day. I don't remember how I handled that--whether I did the situp punishment, or whether I postponed starting my new vow, or whether I stayed strong. This was just a few days before Easter, and this presented another challenge, because once Easter is over, there are no holidays for a while.
I think when I started the zero-tolerance policy, I might have removed fruit snacks and granola bars from the junk food category, but I can't remember when that started. I know that I didn't remove chips from the forbidden list. (Today, however, chips and other savory junk foods are not forbidden; only sweet things.)
In 2007, before my mission, I had amassed a large queue of situps, so I decided that I could eat whatever I wanted and add to that queue until I cleared the queue--at which point it would be a no-tolerance policy again.
Well, I took that queue with me on my mission. I finally cleared the queue on Thanksgiving Day 2008--the day before my year mark. At that point I recommitted myself to not eating bad things. However, I wouldn't make a big deal out of it if someone plopped a dessert down in front of me (I would just add it to the queue), but if they asked me if I wanted it, I would say no.
It was at the end of 2008 that I decided that during the New Year season--December 26 through January 1--I could eat whatever I want. We had a huge pile of goodies people had given us, and that was the only way I could get through it. I have maintained the "anything goes" attitude for New Year's ever since then, for multiple reasons.
In more recent years, I have gotten stricter. I have returned fruit snacks and most (not all) granola bars to the forbidden list, and I no longer justify eating treats to prevent them from being thrown away (most of the time).
In the summer of 2011, I experimented with eating ice cream during the summer months. (Only popsicles and similar things are otherwise acceptable during June, July, and August.) I enjoyed eating ice cream, but it just didn't feel summery, so I cannot eat ice cream during the summer. (It has been more than a decade since I have seen patriotic ice cream. Otherwise I eat pumpkin, egg nog, red velvet, and mint ice cream--but not during the summer.)
In 2012, I began to be more open about these habits. Previously, I had mostly told it to family members and roommates, but I now bear the distinction with pride. In summer of 2012, I wrote a blog about these rules. They have evolved a little since then, but it's pretty close to how I have it now.
Also in 2012, I discontinued the practice of evoking the situp or pushup rule for eating whatever I want on vacation. Summer vacation 2012, I ate lots of candy and then did pushups or situps when I got home, but by the time of my Death Valley field trip in November or my Christmas California trip that year, I was living the same rules on vacation as I was at home. (2012 was truly a seminal year for me.)
In 2013, I finally felt these efforts pay off. On Easter, I felt a little sick after eating lots of candy, and in September, after a long dearth of seasonal goodies, I literally could not finish a piece of pumpkin cake in one setting. Years of only eating seasonal things had lowered my tolerance for sugar. I still can eat a lot of sugar, but I can't do so infinitely (like I think I could at one point).
Today, I prefer unique flavors in seasonal items. I will still eat things that simply have a seasonal shape or color, but I prioritize those with unique flavors, and this has become increasingly easy and enjoyable. In the past few years especially, there's been an abundance of products with seasonal flavors throughout the year: Oreos, M&Ms, Pop-Tarts, Dairy Queen Blizzards, Pizza Pie Cafe dessert pizza of the month, various chocolates, even candy corn. It's a wonderful time to be me!
I didn't want to get into the little details here, so if you have any questions, just ask. :)
Saturday, January 30, 2016
Winter driving
A week ago, I was driving home in a snowstorm that followed a rainstorm, so the snow was very slushy. As I was driving up a hill, I was sliding all over the place--I don't think I went straight at one point while I was going up. I never had a driving experience like that, so it got me thinking about the experiences I've had in cars that have gone sliding on snow and ice.
I have a very young memory of our car spinning around when I was probably three or four, but that might have simply been a U-turn.
One day in fifth grade, my mom was driving me and Hillary Ulmer to school in our blue Subaru. It wasn't snowy, but some snow had melted on the road and frozen again, so as we went down Marialana, my mom lost control of the car and nearly hit Debbie Pope, who was coming up the road. We hit the curb and the car quit working. Debbie stopped and asked if we were all right. We were fine, but we didn't know about the car. Hillary said, "Well, I'm not walking," and I thought that was a ridiculous thing to say, because if the car wasn't working, we had no other option, and we weren't super far from school anyway. But my mom started the car again, and it worked fine.
After we got our white Subaru, I remember a few times when we got stuck in the snow at the bottom of our driveway. One of these times was on Christmas Eve in 2000.
When I was in tenth grade, some days we would get rides from Wayne Christensen. He was apparently in a perpetual rush and would drive somewhat recklessly, not staying on his side of the road and going way over the speed limit. One snowy morning, he drove down Marialana and was angry that they hadn't plowed it yet, since it was the worst road in the snow. He was in too big a rush to take a different road. He began pumping the brakes and told us that the worst thing you could do is to slam on the brakes in the snow. When I asked my family about that, they said that it only applied to cars without anti-lock brakes, and that you never take Marialana in the snow.
On another occasion, it began snowing while we were in school, and Latecia Pope was driving us home. We cleared off her windows, and the snow was coming so rapidly that her rear windshield became completely snowed over while she was driving. When we got up to Raygene, she couldn't get up the steep part in the snow, so I had to get out and walk home, which was fine with me.
I didn't do much snow driving, but one morning I was driving to school and I slid as I was coming down to a stoplight near school.
Then on my mission, my first companion, Elder Chun, liked to pull the emergency brake on roads to turn around, rather than just doing a U-turn. You have to understand that in Spokane, they do a horrendous job of plowing roads. They just let the snow pack down, so the roads always have a slick surface. Elder Chun's method of turning around often made us end up stuck in snow berms, and I would have to get out and push, and sometimes other people would have to come help us too.
One time, we were visiting a family, but he missed the turn and we ended up going down an icy, hilly road called Deer Lane. It was so icy that we couldn't come up. I suggested that we go to the bottom of the road to look for an outlet (after all, we weren't far from a major highway), but he didn't think there was an outlet (and he was right). He asked me to get out and push, but when I pushed, I simply pushed myself away from the car, rather than pushing the car away from me. We did lots of praying and trying and pushing. Then he got an idea: On the side of the road, there were lots of pine needles that had fallen from the trees. He got the driver-side wheels on the needles and was able to get enough traction to drive off. Then we were able to use that experience in our lesson we were late to.
On another occasion, he went the wrong way, down a dead end, and people came to help push us back up the hill.
A year later, I was driving in the town of Ritzville, and the roads were coated with ice, I think because of fog. I was approaching an intersection and applied the brakes and couldn't stop; the car going the other way had to swerve to avoid me. Elder Wilson chastised me for not pumping the brakes, but I didn't understand why a brand-new 2008 vehicle didn't have anti-lock brakes.
One Saturday morning in December 2011, I was driving to my work at the Distribution Center, and as I was going down Raygene I slid into the curb. Everything was fine, but I was scared for the rest of the drive, and I did do some sliding.
I have had numerous times where the anti-lock brakes have come on when I've gone down Raygene. Times include the Saturday before Thanksgiving in 2010 and the Sunday after Christmas in 2014.
Then last Christmas, we had a dinner at the home of a bishopric counselor. It started snowing during dinner, and not wanting to get caught on his very steep hill in the snow, I left early, and my ABS came on and stayed on for a rather long time. I was relieved when I got off that hill.
I have a very young memory of our car spinning around when I was probably three or four, but that might have simply been a U-turn.
One day in fifth grade, my mom was driving me and Hillary Ulmer to school in our blue Subaru. It wasn't snowy, but some snow had melted on the road and frozen again, so as we went down Marialana, my mom lost control of the car and nearly hit Debbie Pope, who was coming up the road. We hit the curb and the car quit working. Debbie stopped and asked if we were all right. We were fine, but we didn't know about the car. Hillary said, "Well, I'm not walking," and I thought that was a ridiculous thing to say, because if the car wasn't working, we had no other option, and we weren't super far from school anyway. But my mom started the car again, and it worked fine.
After we got our white Subaru, I remember a few times when we got stuck in the snow at the bottom of our driveway. One of these times was on Christmas Eve in 2000.
When I was in tenth grade, some days we would get rides from Wayne Christensen. He was apparently in a perpetual rush and would drive somewhat recklessly, not staying on his side of the road and going way over the speed limit. One snowy morning, he drove down Marialana and was angry that they hadn't plowed it yet, since it was the worst road in the snow. He was in too big a rush to take a different road. He began pumping the brakes and told us that the worst thing you could do is to slam on the brakes in the snow. When I asked my family about that, they said that it only applied to cars without anti-lock brakes, and that you never take Marialana in the snow.
On another occasion, it began snowing while we were in school, and Latecia Pope was driving us home. We cleared off her windows, and the snow was coming so rapidly that her rear windshield became completely snowed over while she was driving. When we got up to Raygene, she couldn't get up the steep part in the snow, so I had to get out and walk home, which was fine with me.
I didn't do much snow driving, but one morning I was driving to school and I slid as I was coming down to a stoplight near school.
Then on my mission, my first companion, Elder Chun, liked to pull the emergency brake on roads to turn around, rather than just doing a U-turn. You have to understand that in Spokane, they do a horrendous job of plowing roads. They just let the snow pack down, so the roads always have a slick surface. Elder Chun's method of turning around often made us end up stuck in snow berms, and I would have to get out and push, and sometimes other people would have to come help us too.
One time, we were visiting a family, but he missed the turn and we ended up going down an icy, hilly road called Deer Lane. It was so icy that we couldn't come up. I suggested that we go to the bottom of the road to look for an outlet (after all, we weren't far from a major highway), but he didn't think there was an outlet (and he was right). He asked me to get out and push, but when I pushed, I simply pushed myself away from the car, rather than pushing the car away from me. We did lots of praying and trying and pushing. Then he got an idea: On the side of the road, there were lots of pine needles that had fallen from the trees. He got the driver-side wheels on the needles and was able to get enough traction to drive off. Then we were able to use that experience in our lesson we were late to.
On another occasion, he went the wrong way, down a dead end, and people came to help push us back up the hill.
A year later, I was driving in the town of Ritzville, and the roads were coated with ice, I think because of fog. I was approaching an intersection and applied the brakes and couldn't stop; the car going the other way had to swerve to avoid me. Elder Wilson chastised me for not pumping the brakes, but I didn't understand why a brand-new 2008 vehicle didn't have anti-lock brakes.
One Saturday morning in December 2011, I was driving to my work at the Distribution Center, and as I was going down Raygene I slid into the curb. Everything was fine, but I was scared for the rest of the drive, and I did do some sliding.
I have had numerous times where the anti-lock brakes have come on when I've gone down Raygene. Times include the Saturday before Thanksgiving in 2010 and the Sunday after Christmas in 2014.
Then last Christmas, we had a dinner at the home of a bishopric counselor. It started snowing during dinner, and not wanting to get caught on his very steep hill in the snow, I left early, and my ABS came on and stayed on for a rather long time. I was relieved when I got off that hill.
Monday, January 18, 2016
February 12-16, 2015
Time to remember last year's Valentine's Day.
Thursday, February 12. I left early to go to an eye appointment at the Bountiful Renaissance Center. My GPS directed me to get on I-15, and as I was getting on the on-ramp, I faced a dilemma--either go fast and run into the car in front of me, or go slow and get hit by the semi in back. Fortunately the semi changed lanes, but it was scary there for a second. As I drove down the road, two guys--probably in high school--were running shirtless, one of them just wearing American flag boxer shorts. I went inside and saw the signs said one of the doctors was "Dr. Poll," and I thought I was supposed to see "Dr. Paul." I filled out insurance stuff in the waiting room, and then I heard them say "Dr. Poll," pronounced "Dr. Paul." I thought it shouldn't be pronounced that way, but then I thought of the word "doll." The doctor told me I could get new glasses, but I didn't need them. As I got out of the building, I thought for a split second, "It's a little chilly for October," but then I remembered it was February, so it wasn't chilly at all. I went home and made tacos with ground turkey. When I said I was going to tutoring that evening, my mom was surprised that I was cooking even though I had tutoring. She was late for some reason that night. I went to Camille's house to carpool to tutoring, and I think Nik drove. Our bishop also came to tutoring, and some of the kids had heard he was President Eyring's son. Nik talked with Bishop in the hall, and after tutoring was over, Camille and I sat in his car while he kept talking to Bishop. He had just been breaking up with his girlfriend. Camille asked about me, so I told her about my seasonal eating habits. She said that Valentine's Day was her favorite holiday, that it always had been. I said I didn't know whether my least favorite was Valentine's Day or St. Patrick's Day, and she said it would have to be St. Patrick's Day, since I'm not Irish and I don't drink. She said she liked to go on dates on Valentine's Day. When I came home, I watched the "Valentine's Crush" clip from the Peanuts Motion Comics Collection. I wrote in my journal:
"I left work early today so I could got to my eye appointment. I could get new glasses, but I don't need to. Then I came home and made tacos for dinner. Then I went to tutoring; I feel like I get progressively less awkward. Bishop Eyring came. Nik Day is thinking about breaking up with his girlfriend. Then I came home and watched my three-minute Valentine clip."
Friday, February 13. When I got home from work, my family had made a Papa Murphy's stuffed pizza and were going to watch a movie. Since I was home a little early, I asked if I could go running before I ate. I drove up to Tunnel Springs Park, and I began running up the hill toward the radio towers. I wanted to see what the little gate said, so I went up to it. I doubt I was running at that point, because I hadn't gone up that hill before. The gate just said I was entering Salt Lake County and that dogs had to be on leashes. I decided to see what the sign at the top of the hill said; it just said "Bonneville Shoreline Trail." I had to take in the view, and I saw Ensign Peak, but it was too late to keep going. I returned and ate pizza and various candies my mom had brought home, as well as some red velvet candy corn my sister had brought. We went downstairs and watched A Charlie Brown Valentine, and then we looked on Netflix and Amazon to see what to watch. One of the items on Netflix was Lady Gaga and Tony Bennett; Susanne said it would be good, and my mom told her I had the CD. We watched Box Trolls, which had a weird ending, and we didn't particularly care for it. I remember Allie had to let Buddy, their dog, outside. Then my mom and Susanne watched another movie, and my dad went to bed, while I went to write on this blog. That night I wrote in my journal:
"I actually got to work a little early today. I wore my Snoopy Valentine tie. I came home and had a wonderful run on the Bonneville Shoreline Trail, going up near a weather station [radio tower]. I saw Ensign Peak but I didn't go to it. (Nan thought I said 'I saw some puke but I didn't get in it.') Then we watched A Charlie Brown Valentine and Box Trolls, the latter of which has language I don't approve of. Then I wrote on my memory blog."
Saturday, February 14. I think my family was undecided about what we wanted to do for the day. I ran up to the Wild Rose Trail, and as I was coming to the intersection of five trails, I saw two guys coming from another direction. I think they said hi as I passed them. When I returned, I showered and put on my red shorts, Valentine shirt, and red heart socks, and we decided to go to Golden Spike. We went and picked up Allie, and I brought a red velvet Pop-Tart in the car, and I tried to be discreet about it. Allie brought all the Valentine candies her mom had given her, saying her mom had gone overboard, and my mom said that was typical. When we showed up at the site, there was a whiteboard saying the date, with hearts drawn next to it. We signed up for a special tour, so in the meantime we went out and looked at the railroad.
One of the signs was from the Hibernian Society, and I reflected that it would soon be St. Patrick's Day. Then we went back inside and they announced the tour, so we all hopped in our automobiles and followed the ranger to the place where they were working on the railroad car replicas. They told people not to get lost. They showed us how colorful the trains were originally, as they had advertisements on them. They instructed people on how to get to Spiral Jetty. The ranger pointed out a young girl who was wearing a Golden Spike visor--they had ordered visors for the gift shop, but no one bought them, so they were giving them away. We returned to the visitors' center, and we looked at various exhibits. I liked the old map of Utah showing different county borders, and I liked seeing chocolate golden spikes, but we didn't get one. We watched a documentary in the auditorium, and Allie went out and asked for one of the free visors. Then we looked in the gift shop. I wanted a 37-star American flag I could use for Pioneer Day, and my mom wanted a documentary she could get for school. They said the Charlie Brown one was out of stock, but my mom said I had it; she debated and got another one. After we had made our purchase, Allie said she would have liked a flag, but it was too late. We stopped at a place where they had lots of rocket pieces on display. My dad and I got up and looked around. I signed the guest book, and they probably didn't care about visitors from North Salt Lake, and I drew a little heart by the date. We drove home, and I put in our heart-shaped pizza which we hadn't made the day before, while I turned on Batman. I needed to go to the store for some reason, and when I got there, Julie Keddington saw me, and she remarked how unusual it was that I could wear shorts in February. After I checked out, I saw my home teachee Bob at the Redbox, but there was a woman waiting to use the Redbox, and I didn't want to hold them up by talking to him. My mom made a blackforest cake that night, and while it was baking, we watched Be My Valentine, Charlie Brown and the Golden Spike episode of This Is America, Charlie Brown. I turned on my Valentine's Day playlist that night, and when Jan Terri's "Everyday is Valentine Day" came on, Allie said, "This is terrible." That night I wrote in my journal:
"Today I successfully ran for an hour, including on the Wild Rose Trail. Then we picked up Allie and went to Golden Spike National Historic Site. That was all right; I got a little 37-star flag. Then we came home and cooked our heart pizza. Then I went to the store and saw Julie Keddington. I also saw my home teachee Bob, but he was at a Redbox, and I didn't want to interrupt him, especially since someone was waiting for him. Then we watched Be My Valentine, Charlie Brown and "The Transcontinental Railroad" of This Is America, Charlie Brown. Then we ate cherry chocolate cake."
Sunday, February 15. In the morning I wrote on my blog. We went to my grandparents' house to visit because my uncle was in town. He asked what I was doing, so I told him a little about my job, and there was also a teenager who came with him, whom baby John loved. I was wearing pencil socks, and my cousin Peter asked why I wasn't wearing Valentine socks, but Valentine's Day was over. My aunt had brought some s'more brownies, but she pronounced it with two syllables, "sa-more." I couldn't have them. Sue talked about her horrendous principal. I later remarked to my mom that it was a good visit with Sue, and she said part of that was because she wasn't on her phone the whole time. That night I wrote on my memory blog. I went to bed and watched Get Smart while I was in bed. I wrote in my journal:
"This morning I wrote on my blog before church. I passed the sacrament and set up home teaching. Then I came home, and we went to G'ma and G'pa's because Uncle Paul was there. It was pretty fun, I guess. Then we came home and I wrote on my other blog and tried my hand at a crossword puzzle.
"Having eaten too much cake last night and having a sore throat, it was a rough night. My voice is deeper than normal, and I might be congested. I hope it's all temporary."
Monday, February 16. It was a very boring day. I spent a lot of it looking at Wikipedia articles, since I was fasting from doing many other things. I felt bad that Allie was spending her day off watching TV, so I asked if she wanted to play games. We played Mancala; we were missing some pieces, so I went outside to find some pebbles that I could wash off and use. We played her Disney Hedbanz game. Then that night I went to a stake dance. I was supposed to turn on 400 N, but I missed it and went on another road, and I just happened to find our stake center. They asked me to give the opening prayer. I was talking with Peter Moosman and Kelton Gubler, and they talked about how we looked alike, and how Kelton had been dating Rachel. I went to the dessert table. There was a girl who knew about my rules, so she asked if I could have the Valentine cookies; I said no, but I could have the mint cookies because of St. Patrick's Day. She said, "So it's St. Patrick's Day because Valentine's Day is over?" I talked with a guy who had a patriotic eagle shirt I own. I said I had the shirt but only wore it around the Fourth of July; he said he always wore patriotic things, including socks. I visited with my sweet-bro home teachee and he told me seriously that I should get a girl's number that night. As soon as they started slow dancing, I left before anyone could ask me to dance. This is a portion of my journal:
"I also have a bit of a cold, so I couldn't go running. I tried to lift weights, but I was very weak. Since I couldn't run or do [other] things, it was a rather boring Presidents' Day.
"Allie watched TV all day, and since I was bored, I played games with her. We played Mancala and then her Disney Headbanz game. Mom and Dad went to a movie. When they came back and learned we played games, Mom said, "Thanks for being a good Uncle Mark," and I said, "I try." Allie said, 'You try and you succeed.' [My mom then smiled at me.]
"I went to the stake dance party. I gave the opening prayer and talked with a few people--a guy named Spence and Daniel Egan, my home teachee. One girl has known through institute about my dessert habits, so she asked if I could eat the Valentine cookies. I explained that I could have the mint cookies. I left just at the beginning of slow dancing.
"I put up a few St. Patrick's Day decorations today."
Thursday, February 12. I left early to go to an eye appointment at the Bountiful Renaissance Center. My GPS directed me to get on I-15, and as I was getting on the on-ramp, I faced a dilemma--either go fast and run into the car in front of me, or go slow and get hit by the semi in back. Fortunately the semi changed lanes, but it was scary there for a second. As I drove down the road, two guys--probably in high school--were running shirtless, one of them just wearing American flag boxer shorts. I went inside and saw the signs said one of the doctors was "Dr. Poll," and I thought I was supposed to see "Dr. Paul." I filled out insurance stuff in the waiting room, and then I heard them say "Dr. Poll," pronounced "Dr. Paul." I thought it shouldn't be pronounced that way, but then I thought of the word "doll." The doctor told me I could get new glasses, but I didn't need them. As I got out of the building, I thought for a split second, "It's a little chilly for October," but then I remembered it was February, so it wasn't chilly at all. I went home and made tacos with ground turkey. When I said I was going to tutoring that evening, my mom was surprised that I was cooking even though I had tutoring. She was late for some reason that night. I went to Camille's house to carpool to tutoring, and I think Nik drove. Our bishop also came to tutoring, and some of the kids had heard he was President Eyring's son. Nik talked with Bishop in the hall, and after tutoring was over, Camille and I sat in his car while he kept talking to Bishop. He had just been breaking up with his girlfriend. Camille asked about me, so I told her about my seasonal eating habits. She said that Valentine's Day was her favorite holiday, that it always had been. I said I didn't know whether my least favorite was Valentine's Day or St. Patrick's Day, and she said it would have to be St. Patrick's Day, since I'm not Irish and I don't drink. She said she liked to go on dates on Valentine's Day. When I came home, I watched the "Valentine's Crush" clip from the Peanuts Motion Comics Collection. I wrote in my journal:
"I left work early today so I could got to my eye appointment. I could get new glasses, but I don't need to. Then I came home and made tacos for dinner. Then I went to tutoring; I feel like I get progressively less awkward. Bishop Eyring came. Nik Day is thinking about breaking up with his girlfriend. Then I came home and watched my three-minute Valentine clip."
Friday, February 13. When I got home from work, my family had made a Papa Murphy's stuffed pizza and were going to watch a movie. Since I was home a little early, I asked if I could go running before I ate. I drove up to Tunnel Springs Park, and I began running up the hill toward the radio towers. I wanted to see what the little gate said, so I went up to it. I doubt I was running at that point, because I hadn't gone up that hill before. The gate just said I was entering Salt Lake County and that dogs had to be on leashes. I decided to see what the sign at the top of the hill said; it just said "Bonneville Shoreline Trail." I had to take in the view, and I saw Ensign Peak, but it was too late to keep going. I returned and ate pizza and various candies my mom had brought home, as well as some red velvet candy corn my sister had brought. We went downstairs and watched A Charlie Brown Valentine, and then we looked on Netflix and Amazon to see what to watch. One of the items on Netflix was Lady Gaga and Tony Bennett; Susanne said it would be good, and my mom told her I had the CD. We watched Box Trolls, which had a weird ending, and we didn't particularly care for it. I remember Allie had to let Buddy, their dog, outside. Then my mom and Susanne watched another movie, and my dad went to bed, while I went to write on this blog. That night I wrote in my journal:
"I actually got to work a little early today. I wore my Snoopy Valentine tie. I came home and had a wonderful run on the Bonneville Shoreline Trail, going up near a weather station [radio tower]. I saw Ensign Peak but I didn't go to it. (Nan thought I said 'I saw some puke but I didn't get in it.') Then we watched A Charlie Brown Valentine and Box Trolls, the latter of which has language I don't approve of. Then I wrote on my memory blog."
Saturday, February 14. I think my family was undecided about what we wanted to do for the day. I ran up to the Wild Rose Trail, and as I was coming to the intersection of five trails, I saw two guys coming from another direction. I think they said hi as I passed them. When I returned, I showered and put on my red shorts, Valentine shirt, and red heart socks, and we decided to go to Golden Spike. We went and picked up Allie, and I brought a red velvet Pop-Tart in the car, and I tried to be discreet about it. Allie brought all the Valentine candies her mom had given her, saying her mom had gone overboard, and my mom said that was typical. When we showed up at the site, there was a whiteboard saying the date, with hearts drawn next to it. We signed up for a special tour, so in the meantime we went out and looked at the railroad.
"Today I successfully ran for an hour, including on the Wild Rose Trail. Then we picked up Allie and went to Golden Spike National Historic Site. That was all right; I got a little 37-star flag. Then we came home and cooked our heart pizza. Then I went to the store and saw Julie Keddington. I also saw my home teachee Bob, but he was at a Redbox, and I didn't want to interrupt him, especially since someone was waiting for him. Then we watched Be My Valentine, Charlie Brown and "The Transcontinental Railroad" of This Is America, Charlie Brown. Then we ate cherry chocolate cake."
Sunday, February 15. In the morning I wrote on my blog. We went to my grandparents' house to visit because my uncle was in town. He asked what I was doing, so I told him a little about my job, and there was also a teenager who came with him, whom baby John loved. I was wearing pencil socks, and my cousin Peter asked why I wasn't wearing Valentine socks, but Valentine's Day was over. My aunt had brought some s'more brownies, but she pronounced it with two syllables, "sa-more." I couldn't have them. Sue talked about her horrendous principal. I later remarked to my mom that it was a good visit with Sue, and she said part of that was because she wasn't on her phone the whole time. That night I wrote on my memory blog. I went to bed and watched Get Smart while I was in bed. I wrote in my journal:
"This morning I wrote on my blog before church. I passed the sacrament and set up home teaching. Then I came home, and we went to G'ma and G'pa's because Uncle Paul was there. It was pretty fun, I guess. Then we came home and I wrote on my other blog and tried my hand at a crossword puzzle.
"Having eaten too much cake last night and having a sore throat, it was a rough night. My voice is deeper than normal, and I might be congested. I hope it's all temporary."
Monday, February 16. It was a very boring day. I spent a lot of it looking at Wikipedia articles, since I was fasting from doing many other things. I felt bad that Allie was spending her day off watching TV, so I asked if she wanted to play games. We played Mancala; we were missing some pieces, so I went outside to find some pebbles that I could wash off and use. We played her Disney Hedbanz game. Then that night I went to a stake dance. I was supposed to turn on 400 N, but I missed it and went on another road, and I just happened to find our stake center. They asked me to give the opening prayer. I was talking with Peter Moosman and Kelton Gubler, and they talked about how we looked alike, and how Kelton had been dating Rachel. I went to the dessert table. There was a girl who knew about my rules, so she asked if I could have the Valentine cookies; I said no, but I could have the mint cookies because of St. Patrick's Day. She said, "So it's St. Patrick's Day because Valentine's Day is over?" I talked with a guy who had a patriotic eagle shirt I own. I said I had the shirt but only wore it around the Fourth of July; he said he always wore patriotic things, including socks. I visited with my sweet-bro home teachee and he told me seriously that I should get a girl's number that night. As soon as they started slow dancing, I left before anyone could ask me to dance. This is a portion of my journal:
"I also have a bit of a cold, so I couldn't go running. I tried to lift weights, but I was very weak. Since I couldn't run or do [other] things, it was a rather boring Presidents' Day.
"Allie watched TV all day, and since I was bored, I played games with her. We played Mancala and then her Disney Headbanz game. Mom and Dad went to a movie. When they came back and learned we played games, Mom said, "Thanks for being a good Uncle Mark," and I said, "I try." Allie said, 'You try and you succeed.' [My mom then smiled at me.]
"I went to the stake dance party. I gave the opening prayer and talked with a few people--a guy named Spence and Daniel Egan, my home teachee. One girl has known through institute about my dessert habits, so she asked if I could eat the Valentine cookies. I explained that I could have the mint cookies. I left just at the beginning of slow dancing.
"I put up a few St. Patrick's Day decorations today."
Friday, January 15, 2016
Spilling things
This week's memory post is admittedly very random--times that things have been spilled. Obviously, in no way is this every time something has been spilled.
At a primary Christmas party when I was in third (maybe second) grade, they gave us donuts and "hot chocolate"--it was just chocolate milk heated up, which for some reason tasted weird and had a little film that formed on top. Well, I spilled mine all over the table in the cultural hall, so some of the leaders ran to get things to wipe it up with, and I didn't know what to do, so I just stood there helpless while they cleaned up, and I futilely put my little brown napkin in the chocolate milk puddle on the table. After we had had our refreshments and they had given us candy canes, a tiny Devan Gubler went into the chapel and up to the microphone, which was on, saying "My candy cane!" We could hear him in the hall. We told his mom, and she just said, "Silly!"
Sometime around that age, I went to a sleepover at my cousins' house. My cousin Joey got a can of red creme soda and opened it in the living room. It fizzed all over the carpet, which they had recently replaced. My aunt was quite upset about it, and as she cleaned it up, she kept saying, "Dang it, you!" while he nonchalantly sipped his soda.
When I was in seventh grade, my mom took me and my cousin April and her boyfriend to a mall and the food court. As I was bringing a tray with a cup of Sprite over to our table, the cup fell off the tray and spilled all over. My mom went to get someone to clean it up, and since I was taking Spanish, I remarked dejectedly to my cousin and her boyfriend, "Qué suerte" (What luck).
One November day, I was in my Ritzville, Washington, mission apartment, with a cup of water on my desk. I think I might have had a mild cold, which was why I had water on my desk. Well, my desk wasn't very organized, so at one point I spilled the water all over my scriptures. I put my scriptures on the floor of our bedroom while I pointed a fan at the pages. To this day, my Pearl of Great Price has wrinkles in it from the incident. Good thing I only drank water!
After I had been home for about a month, in December 2009, we were having a family game night the week after Christmas. My niece, Allie, was six and wanted to play "Guess which song I'm humming with me." My mom told me I was a good uncle. Allie had some hot chocolate, and at one point she spilled it on the table and carpet. Her mom became mad at her, and my mom thought she was overreacting and being overly mean.
Then two years ago, my sweet-bro roommate, Chad, invited me to a Sunday dinner at a family friend's house. I agreed to go, but I decided to drive separately. He didn't tell me where he was going as I was following, and he kept changing lanes, and then he took the freeway to get from Provo to Orem, which I found ridiculous. Anyway, the dinner was very awkward, because I knew no one there, and I'm inherently awkward, and all his buddies were fellow sweet-bros. I don't know what I am, but I'm not a sweet-bro. In the course of dinner, Chad accidentally knocked over a glass of water, and it got all over the table, and me, and the chair. Not knowing what to do, I just stood around while Chad grabbed a dish towel to wipe it up. (I told you I was inherently awkward!) He apologized for spilling on me, and one of the women there said, "And in his suit!" I didn't think it would help to tell them that I had just had the suit drycleaned. (The women at that dinner were nice. They weren't as bro-like and asked questions relevant to me. One of them had worked for the Church Educational System, so she knew about BYU Studies, where I was interning at the time.) Chad had invited me to several dinners before, but I never went; but he never invited me again.
At a primary Christmas party when I was in third (maybe second) grade, they gave us donuts and "hot chocolate"--it was just chocolate milk heated up, which for some reason tasted weird and had a little film that formed on top. Well, I spilled mine all over the table in the cultural hall, so some of the leaders ran to get things to wipe it up with, and I didn't know what to do, so I just stood there helpless while they cleaned up, and I futilely put my little brown napkin in the chocolate milk puddle on the table. After we had had our refreshments and they had given us candy canes, a tiny Devan Gubler went into the chapel and up to the microphone, which was on, saying "My candy cane!" We could hear him in the hall. We told his mom, and she just said, "Silly!"
Sometime around that age, I went to a sleepover at my cousins' house. My cousin Joey got a can of red creme soda and opened it in the living room. It fizzed all over the carpet, which they had recently replaced. My aunt was quite upset about it, and as she cleaned it up, she kept saying, "Dang it, you!" while he nonchalantly sipped his soda.
When I was in seventh grade, my mom took me and my cousin April and her boyfriend to a mall and the food court. As I was bringing a tray with a cup of Sprite over to our table, the cup fell off the tray and spilled all over. My mom went to get someone to clean it up, and since I was taking Spanish, I remarked dejectedly to my cousin and her boyfriend, "Qué suerte" (What luck).
One November day, I was in my Ritzville, Washington, mission apartment, with a cup of water on my desk. I think I might have had a mild cold, which was why I had water on my desk. Well, my desk wasn't very organized, so at one point I spilled the water all over my scriptures. I put my scriptures on the floor of our bedroom while I pointed a fan at the pages. To this day, my Pearl of Great Price has wrinkles in it from the incident. Good thing I only drank water!
After I had been home for about a month, in December 2009, we were having a family game night the week after Christmas. My niece, Allie, was six and wanted to play "Guess which song I'm humming with me." My mom told me I was a good uncle. Allie had some hot chocolate, and at one point she spilled it on the table and carpet. Her mom became mad at her, and my mom thought she was overreacting and being overly mean.
Then two years ago, my sweet-bro roommate, Chad, invited me to a Sunday dinner at a family friend's house. I agreed to go, but I decided to drive separately. He didn't tell me where he was going as I was following, and he kept changing lanes, and then he took the freeway to get from Provo to Orem, which I found ridiculous. Anyway, the dinner was very awkward, because I knew no one there, and I'm inherently awkward, and all his buddies were fellow sweet-bros. I don't know what I am, but I'm not a sweet-bro. In the course of dinner, Chad accidentally knocked over a glass of water, and it got all over the table, and me, and the chair. Not knowing what to do, I just stood around while Chad grabbed a dish towel to wipe it up. (I told you I was inherently awkward!) He apologized for spilling on me, and one of the women there said, "And in his suit!" I didn't think it would help to tell them that I had just had the suit drycleaned. (The women at that dinner were nice. They weren't as bro-like and asked questions relevant to me. One of them had worked for the Church Educational System, so she knew about BYU Studies, where I was interning at the time.) Chad had invited me to several dinners before, but I never went; but he never invited me again.
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