I am so excited. I was on iwastesomuchtime yesterday (it is one of my favorite sites. I have gone through every post they have put up and daily look at the newest posts), and I found a thing of wonder. I shall preface the revealing of my discovery with some very slight background; I am closing in on 23 years of age, and I have yet to do anything that I find noteworthy (especially since I cannot sing very well... ok, dumb pun). I have loose plans on what to do in the future so that I can feel more accomplished, but I was unsure as to what. Now, I have direction. Behold, THE MAN CARD!!! This simple card gives me goals to be met, heights to reach for, and direction. To clarify, I am not going to design my entire life around this card (and honestly I cannot accomplish everything on the card. Tobacco and scotch are out of the question, and Steve McQueen is unattainable), but There are a few things on there that I deem are manly that I think would be pretty cool to accomplish. By using this card, I can also come up with a few replacement 'manliness' criteria so that I can also have 15 goals.
On a completely unrelated note, I suggest the movie Chaos Theory. It has Ryan Reynolds, and deals with a man who made a list of everything he was going to do with his life, until something changed that completely. He then goes through the rest of his life making his decisions on the whims of chance; still writing his choices down, but then picking them at random. It is a very fun, yet still touching movie.
Captain Random has averted my attention to the Roncalli Auction. For everyone who doesn't know (which is most people), my mom works as a Business manager, and every year becomes stressed out over the Annual Roncalli Auction. This year, she had a great idea for it; the first item sold in the Oral Auction would be "The Best Seat in the House," a table for 4 in the middle of the auction hall serviced by a personal waiter, a $200 tab, and all items won would be delivered to your home free of charge. My mom asked me to be the waiter, on the condition that I wear my kilt with a frill fronted dress shirt and bow tie. I agreed, and added my pink Chucks to the mix. It was a very fun night, though in the future I would like to be more involved in the auction itself, cause I really wanted the suit that was auctioned off!
I would like to close with a statement of gratitude; thank you, friends and family, for all the support that has brought me to where I am today. As I prepare to leave for Sacramento, I am realizing more and more how very much I will miss you. These next two years will be a glorious, taxing, ad rewarding time for me. Thank you everyone for what you have done to help me, and thank you for being who you are.
Monday, April 30, 2012
Thursday, April 26, 2012
drugs, foot socks, and OH MY GOSH!!!
Yesterday I have had an enjoyable (though very strange and out of the ordinary) day at work. It all started with my run to Taylor Heights. I wore my new Fils 4-finger shoes (the pinkie and ring toes go in the same sleeve) to Planet Fitness, and then to work after I got cleaned up. My co-worker Amber was excited to see them, and at one point asked if I wore foot socks with them. Believing she meant toe socks, I giggled a little, and repeated what she had said so that she might understand my entertained confusion. She didn't seem to notice at all. So please, correct me if my logic is wrong; socks go on feet. Feet and socks go together like gloves and hands. You don't say hand gloves. Well, before I could point this out to Amber, a customer came up to the teller window asking for a withdrawl slip. We tabled our conversation, ans, recognizing her, I helped her fill out her slip. She was a bit chatty, and at one point I laughed. She complimented em on my dimples, which was a little odd, but I thanked her and told her how my brother Tom is to this day angry at me for my jaw line and the fact that I have dimples (two sets there of). When I told her that I had two sets of dimples her response was "I only see one. Are the others on your butt. Pull'em down and show me." I was laughing reals hard at this point. She followed this up with some crude joke that left me more shocked than entertained. After she left, I turned to Amber. "I was asked by a 60 year old in a wheelchair to strip." Slightly scaring. Less than half an hour later, Amber caught a 16 year old girl giving me the up/down, up/down, and another up/down with her eyes. The day just got more awkward.
My manager came into the bank about an hour later, just before I went on lunch. This would be the first extended amount of time that I would spend with him since racing on Saturday, so I had brought my knee brace in to work and was wearing it in an attempt to convince him I had hurt myself. I even faked a painkiller buzz to sell it. Less than an hour after he got to the office, he asked Amber to come into his office. When she came out, she told me that Nick was considering sending me home because of my chemically altered state. Boom. Not only could I convince my boss that I was injured, but I can fake being on drugs. Hollywood, here I come!
Now for the rant of my post.
I found a new, fun site called smartphOWNED where people have auto-correct problems, text the wrong person, or just strange conversations. Many of them are oft repeated themes, but the one that really ticks me go like this. Now, I don't know about you, but I think the integrity of my parents relationship cannot be bought from Microsoft. In fact, when I am grown and have a 19 year old still living at home over the summer, I will pull this as a prank. If they accept the bride, they are kicked out of the house. There are probably 50 or 60 of these that I have read. I understand that many are staged conversations, but there are too many real ones for my liking. I now do not like people >:(
Ok, I like people again.
My manager came into the bank about an hour later, just before I went on lunch. This would be the first extended amount of time that I would spend with him since racing on Saturday, so I had brought my knee brace in to work and was wearing it in an attempt to convince him I had hurt myself. I even faked a painkiller buzz to sell it. Less than an hour after he got to the office, he asked Amber to come into his office. When she came out, she told me that Nick was considering sending me home because of my chemically altered state. Boom. Not only could I convince my boss that I was injured, but I can fake being on drugs. Hollywood, here I come!
Now for the rant of my post.
I found a new, fun site called smartphOWNED where people have auto-correct problems, text the wrong person, or just strange conversations. Many of them are oft repeated themes, but the one that really ticks me go like this. Now, I don't know about you, but I think the integrity of my parents relationship cannot be bought from Microsoft. In fact, when I am grown and have a 19 year old still living at home over the summer, I will pull this as a prank. If they accept the bride, they are kicked out of the house. There are probably 50 or 60 of these that I have read. I understand that many are staged conversations, but there are too many real ones for my liking. I now do not like people >:(
Ok, I like people again.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
If I westle with myself, am I the winner or the loser?
Okay, so the layout for this blog page just changed recently, and I'm not sure I like it. It is more empty, in a 'this is a poorly designed site' sort of empty instead of the 'artistically minimalistic' sort of empty.
For starters, this past weekend was a blast. I was able to participate in the SNC track meet, played a fun game of cards, watched 15 episodes of Chuck, ate a tray of Oreos, 3 containers of Chinese, 2 meals of Pizza, watched Hop and Crazy, Stupid, Love, Zumba'd, and got to see so many friends. IT was a wonderfully fun time, and I look forward to being able to do it again.
I also went to the Green Bay first ward and attended Sacrament and first block. The talks were all regarding Charity (in one way or another). The first speaker's topic was the Golden Rule, the second spoke on service, and the final speaker focused on loving God, and our neighbors as ourselves. The Hymn was Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief. In Gospel Doctrine, we discussed, mainly, the wrestle that Enos had before God. Now, this blog was supposed to be about how I changed from a guy who was never going to go on a mission to who I am now. The majority of my posts have had to do with random happenings in my life and football.
So here is some actual conversion information.
Anyone who has tried to change themselves can appreciate the struggle it is. In an attempt to keep myself healthier, I have eaten more salad in the last 18 months than I had in the previous 18 years. In order to stay awake in school, I changed my sleeping pattern dramatically and it worked. I wanted to write in my journal, so I keep it by my bed. However, I haven't had a salad in weeks, have resumed napping during my lunch break, and have had multiple 2 week-plus gaps in my journal so far this year. Even though I have tried to change my habits, I easily revert back to my old ways.
There are still times when I feel like I don't want to serve a mission, or more appropriately that I am not prepared to serve a mission. I think that because I spent so long not wanting to serve that I could have a negative influence on those who serve with me. I still have flashes of thoughts where I think I am doing this for selfish reasons, because I know there are great blessings associated with this work. There are still times when I feel unworthy.
Whenever these things go through my head, I always try and remember that I have been called to serve, that I have been/can be forgiven for anything that I do, and that with faith and dedication to the Gospel, I can have the Spirit with me to guide me and direct. I have worked ever and always, slowly but surely, towards being a more patient, loving, and accepting person. It is these simple (but still challenging) changes that will have the largest and most lasting impact on me.
For starters, this past weekend was a blast. I was able to participate in the SNC track meet, played a fun game of cards, watched 15 episodes of Chuck, ate a tray of Oreos, 3 containers of Chinese, 2 meals of Pizza, watched Hop and Crazy, Stupid, Love, Zumba'd, and got to see so many friends. IT was a wonderfully fun time, and I look forward to being able to do it again.
I also went to the Green Bay first ward and attended Sacrament and first block. The talks were all regarding Charity (in one way or another). The first speaker's topic was the Golden Rule, the second spoke on service, and the final speaker focused on loving God, and our neighbors as ourselves. The Hymn was Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief. In Gospel Doctrine, we discussed, mainly, the wrestle that Enos had before God. Now, this blog was supposed to be about how I changed from a guy who was never going to go on a mission to who I am now. The majority of my posts have had to do with random happenings in my life and football.
So here is some actual conversion information.
Anyone who has tried to change themselves can appreciate the struggle it is. In an attempt to keep myself healthier, I have eaten more salad in the last 18 months than I had in the previous 18 years. In order to stay awake in school, I changed my sleeping pattern dramatically and it worked. I wanted to write in my journal, so I keep it by my bed. However, I haven't had a salad in weeks, have resumed napping during my lunch break, and have had multiple 2 week-plus gaps in my journal so far this year. Even though I have tried to change my habits, I easily revert back to my old ways.
There are still times when I feel like I don't want to serve a mission, or more appropriately that I am not prepared to serve a mission. I think that because I spent so long not wanting to serve that I could have a negative influence on those who serve with me. I still have flashes of thoughts where I think I am doing this for selfish reasons, because I know there are great blessings associated with this work. There are still times when I feel unworthy.
Whenever these things go through my head, I always try and remember that I have been called to serve, that I have been/can be forgiven for anything that I do, and that with faith and dedication to the Gospel, I can have the Spirit with me to guide me and direct. I have worked ever and always, slowly but surely, towards being a more patient, loving, and accepting person. It is these simple (but still challenging) changes that will have the largest and most lasting impact on me.
Monday, April 16, 2012
I count this as progress
I had my day planned out before I even went to bed. I was going to clean my room, do my laundry, renew my license at the DMV, pay off my bill for my dentist visit, and then go to a track meet at North High this afternoon. So this morning, I started to knock things off my list. I drove to the DMV, and i eventually found out that you cannot renew your license more than 90 days before it expires, so I didn't have to do anything there. Then I went to the dentist, but my bill had been taken care of previously, so I had even less to do.
This made me very happy. It gave me more time to... to... well, do stuff. To be completely honest, I do not know what to do with much of my time. If my leg were healthy, I would go for a run, but it is VERY windy, so I would go to Planet Fitness to stationary bike for an hour while playing Gameboy or reading. I would top it off with some Zumba or the like in my room. If I had a great place to practice, I would be doing parkour. If I had a bow and a place to shoot, I would practice archery. If I had a horse, I would practice riding (and shooting from horse back). If I had a working sewing machine, I would hem my suit pants. If I had a group of friends I would play ultimate frisbee... but it is still windy so we would play football. If I knew how to play piano/guitar, I would practice learning a new song.
Now there is essentially nothing I can do about my leg, but I can work on the archery, the horse, the sewing machine, learning how to read music/play an instrument. So there are plenty of things that I can do, but I am fairly content to just sit around the house and continue to do essentially nothing... at least until Chuck Season 2 gets delivered Wednesday.
This made me very happy. It gave me more time to... to... well, do stuff. To be completely honest, I do not know what to do with much of my time. If my leg were healthy, I would go for a run, but it is VERY windy, so I would go to Planet Fitness to stationary bike for an hour while playing Gameboy or reading. I would top it off with some Zumba or the like in my room. If I had a great place to practice, I would be doing parkour. If I had a bow and a place to shoot, I would practice archery. If I had a horse, I would practice riding (and shooting from horse back). If I had a working sewing machine, I would hem my suit pants. If I had a group of friends I would play ultimate frisbee... but it is still windy so we would play football. If I knew how to play piano/guitar, I would practice learning a new song.
Now there is essentially nothing I can do about my leg, but I can work on the archery, the horse, the sewing machine, learning how to read music/play an instrument. So there are plenty of things that I can do, but I am fairly content to just sit around the house and continue to do essentially nothing... at least until Chuck Season 2 gets delivered Wednesday.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
What are you made of?
I have taken pride in the fact that I have never in my life found myself hunched over losing my lunch due to the fact that my body could no longer hold it in as a result of excess physical exertion. With 5 seasons of cross country and 4.8 seasons of track, I have never throw up from a work out or a race. Lately, though, I have started to wonder what that meant about me. When one pictures themselves finishing a 5K or 8k race, the thought is of tearing through the line as fast as you can, and then stumbling toward the nearest course volunteer so they can hold you up as they walk you through the finishing chute. You get to the end, take your number, and are passed of to the nearest teammate of the opposite gender/of the differing level of competition (Varsity or JV) who then helps you hobble back to your site.
I have no experience of this. I have blown through the line having raced a 27:32 8K, run the last hundred meters in 12.3 seconds, and still just put my hands atop my head to help me breath, but walked through on my own, and stood at the end of the finishing flags welcoming and congratulating every contestant as they came through. I have run 24 400 meter repeats at 70 seconds with 70 seconds of rest between, and then run the 25th at 63 seconds. I have PR'd in the 800 meter run by two and a half seconds and collapsed afterwards for over an hour. But I have never tossed my cookies.
I wanted to change that today. I asked my mom to come to a local park with me where I had a 850 meter loop, and I told her to not let me stop running until I yak'd. This loop has a big uphill, a treacherous downhill, and I would have to dodge frisbee disc golfers as I ran. I warmed up with a lap, then got straight into the workout. I ran the first lap in 2:44 seconds. by the third lap, I felt like tossing. By the fourth, my legs were hitting together. By the sixth, I could barely make it up the hill, and my mom said one more. She made me go for three. I finished my ninth lap in under 27 minutes, and my legs folded under me. I couldn't run any more. I couldn't breath. Even after a minute, I couldn't say a sentence without abrupt stoppages in speech. I could feel my stomach wanting to revolt. It was at my sternum. It had been as high as low in my throat, and filled my entire abdomen. But it would not come up. I still had not puked.
It ends up my stomach is stronger than my legs. I could hardly stand, and after 3 minutes, I could only stumble instead of walking a straight line. I couldn't run farther, but I still held my lunch inside.
It ended up making me feel better that I hadn't run to expulsion before. As it turns out, I can't. Good to know.
I have no experience of this. I have blown through the line having raced a 27:32 8K, run the last hundred meters in 12.3 seconds, and still just put my hands atop my head to help me breath, but walked through on my own, and stood at the end of the finishing flags welcoming and congratulating every contestant as they came through. I have run 24 400 meter repeats at 70 seconds with 70 seconds of rest between, and then run the 25th at 63 seconds. I have PR'd in the 800 meter run by two and a half seconds and collapsed afterwards for over an hour. But I have never tossed my cookies.
I wanted to change that today. I asked my mom to come to a local park with me where I had a 850 meter loop, and I told her to not let me stop running until I yak'd. This loop has a big uphill, a treacherous downhill, and I would have to dodge frisbee disc golfers as I ran. I warmed up with a lap, then got straight into the workout. I ran the first lap in 2:44 seconds. by the third lap, I felt like tossing. By the fourth, my legs were hitting together. By the sixth, I could barely make it up the hill, and my mom said one more. She made me go for three. I finished my ninth lap in under 27 minutes, and my legs folded under me. I couldn't run any more. I couldn't breath. Even after a minute, I couldn't say a sentence without abrupt stoppages in speech. I could feel my stomach wanting to revolt. It was at my sternum. It had been as high as low in my throat, and filled my entire abdomen. But it would not come up. I still had not puked.
It ends up my stomach is stronger than my legs. I could hardly stand, and after 3 minutes, I could only stumble instead of walking a straight line. I couldn't run farther, but I still held my lunch inside.
It ended up making me feel better that I hadn't run to expulsion before. As it turns out, I can't. Good to know.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
A lil R&R
I got the day off from the bank, so I decided to make the most of it. I began my day in my regular way, weighed myself, and went downstairs for breakfast (Peanut Butter sandwich). As I was eating, I walked into the dining room, and on the table was a small package. I was expecting a delivery of a four book set of the Game of Thrones series, but this was much too small. I read the addressee name anyway, and lo and behold, IT WAS FOR ME!!! It was my copy of Armored Core (see previous posts), delivered a week ahead of schedule!
I rushed made my way upstairs, forcing myself to be calm, and began playing. It was marvelous. I was having soooooooo much fun. Then my mom called home and told me to clean the house (which would be a lot less fun). I played until 9:30 (a total of 2 hours), ate another sammich while I fixed the chain on my bike, then headed off for the marina to meet Spencer.
I arrived at 10:30, right in schedule, only to realize that I could not see a round about in the area, our agreed meeting place. I panicked a little, then decided that Spencer intended the docking yards across the river. I hopped back on my bike, and rode for the yards (which are near a round about), and he was nowhere to be seen. Slightly anxious I rode back to the marina, and found him. Excellent. It was time to ride a motorcycle.
To preface this, I have never even been on a motorized bi-ped of any kind, so I was rather nervous. He quickly ran me through the basics of the bike control (clutch, throttle, choke, front and rear brake, shifter, etc.), and then handed me the helmet. I turned on the bike (not using the kick start), and rode once around the round about in first. I was ecstatic!! I could ride a motorcycle!
Spencer was not satisfied, though. He made me ride through the parking lot, shifting as high as fourth and going as fast as 35 or 40 mph (there isn't a speedometer). Turning was by far the hardest part. If I only had to go straight on a motorcycle, I would be boss at it. Unfortunately, most destinations involve some sort or right or left direction. So, with my leather jacket and biker boots protecting me, I practiced and practiced. Not once did I fall over, hit something, or clunk out.
Then Spencer made me get on the back of the bike as he took me down Broughton drive. I think we hit 60. I was scared.
I had a wonderful time. I am very much considering buying this wonderful machine off my friend, dependent on the results of my motorcycle test at the DMV. Besides, I think it would be awesome to roll up to SNC on a motorcycle.
I rushed made my way upstairs, forcing myself to be calm, and began playing. It was marvelous. I was having soooooooo much fun. Then my mom called home and told me to clean the house (which would be a lot less fun). I played until 9:30 (a total of 2 hours), ate another sammich while I fixed the chain on my bike, then headed off for the marina to meet Spencer.
I arrived at 10:30, right in schedule, only to realize that I could not see a round about in the area, our agreed meeting place. I panicked a little, then decided that Spencer intended the docking yards across the river. I hopped back on my bike, and rode for the yards (which are near a round about), and he was nowhere to be seen. Slightly anxious I rode back to the marina, and found him. Excellent. It was time to ride a motorcycle.
To preface this, I have never even been on a motorized bi-ped of any kind, so I was rather nervous. He quickly ran me through the basics of the bike control (clutch, throttle, choke, front and rear brake, shifter, etc.), and then handed me the helmet. I turned on the bike (not using the kick start), and rode once around the round about in first. I was ecstatic!! I could ride a motorcycle!
Spencer was not satisfied, though. He made me ride through the parking lot, shifting as high as fourth and going as fast as 35 or 40 mph (there isn't a speedometer). Turning was by far the hardest part. If I only had to go straight on a motorcycle, I would be boss at it. Unfortunately, most destinations involve some sort or right or left direction. So, with my leather jacket and biker boots protecting me, I practiced and practiced. Not once did I fall over, hit something, or clunk out.
Then Spencer made me get on the back of the bike as he took me down Broughton drive. I think we hit 60. I was scared.
I had a wonderful time. I am very much considering buying this wonderful machine off my friend, dependent on the results of my motorcycle test at the DMV. Besides, I think it would be awesome to roll up to SNC on a motorcycle.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
It is April Fools day... splendid.
So I started off my day by arriving at work early. Why? So that I could hide in a trash cubby that we have in order to frighten the pants off my Assistant Manager, who was opening with me. It was set up wonderfully except for one small detail; the size of the cubby. Now I have a 6' 2'' arm span, and thick legs, so I did not fit very well in the narrow closet space. In addition, my AM was late getting to work. 15 minutes after locking myself in, I was sweating profusely on my GameBoy (Pokemon Yellow), my legs had cramped, and it felt like my ankle broke when I sneezed. I had to get out, but I was stuck. I had to wait until my AM arrived in order get out, and by then I was whining like a kitten, and was in no mood to try and startle anyone.
There are the classic Fool's Day jokes; saran wrap on the toilet seat or doorway, getting engaged/married/breaking up on Facebook, putting meat in a vegetarian dish, pretending to get hit by a car, hanging dog poop on your RA's door knob, shoving an entire torn up phone book under someones door so that the door gets jammed, freezing a can of shaving cream, then puncturing it and leaving it in someones room, or dine and dashing, but leaving your waitress (who is also your friend) a note saying it is April Fools and that they can get the money from you when they come by to make a deposit of that weekends tip money (not that I did that one today... cheers Maryl!!!), and so on.
I have always enjoyed watching pranks being pulled, but I don't think I will try and fit myself into such a small space again any time soon.
There are the classic Fool's Day jokes; saran wrap on the toilet seat or doorway, getting engaged/married/breaking up on Facebook, putting meat in a vegetarian dish, pretending to get hit by a car, hanging dog poop on your RA's door knob, shoving an entire torn up phone book under someones door so that the door gets jammed, freezing a can of shaving cream, then puncturing it and leaving it in someones room, or dine and dashing, but leaving your waitress (who is also your friend) a note saying it is April Fools and that they can get the money from you when they come by to make a deposit of that weekends tip money (not that I did that one today... cheers Maryl!!!), and so on.
I have always enjoyed watching pranks being pulled, but I don't think I will try and fit myself into such a small space again any time soon.
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