Not flirty, just metro

I have spent the last 10 days in a white shirt and tie from 7am until 10pm. I am constantly being followed by a man who reminds me of a helpless puppy. Everyone looks the same!!!

Ok, in reality, I barely even made it out here to Provo, Utah. I was just able to meet with my Stake President the night before so that I could be set apart as a missionary. I got home and had to remain dressed in my whites and tie as I packed my body-and-a-half sized duffel bag with everything I felt I would need for the next two years. I began to freak out a bit as I thought of things I though I would need, left behind things I realized were superfluous, and found forms I didn't know existed that I had never sent in. Hyperventalating is an understatement. Well, 2:30 am rolled around and I decided to get a bit of shut eye before flying out of Mitchell Airport at 6:30. I woke back up at 3:50, finished shoving a bunch of socks and other such junk in my bag, threw it in our Honda Pilot, and drove off.

We arrived slightly behind schedule at the airport, but there was a very friendly check in man waiting at the drop off area. I checked in, weighed my bag, and received my boarding pass and baggage claim ticket. I proceeded slowly up the escalator, resplendent in a blue pinstripe suit, sleek black shoes (courtesy of Laura), a dashing red tie (courtesy of Brandon), and... MY TIES!!! it was at this time I remebered that I had not packed my ties in my rush. I would be left with but one tie until my family was able to send the rest to me. But the worst was yet to come.

I had waited in line, slowly advancing, until I finally stood before the agent would would direct me to empty my pockets, take off my shoes, and lose my belt. Instead, she told me that my name was not my own, meaning that I had the wrong ticket. It was 6:02 am, and I couldn't get on the plane. A nearby TSA agent stepped over, and ran three laps around the airport before she had gotten me a ticket, rerouted my bag, and returned triumphant. I was expedited through the security, and boarded the plane 79 seconds before they locked the door. The flight was uneventful (napped), the layover in Minneapolis- St. Paul was uneventful (napped), and the flight over the mountains to land in Salt Lake was Mostly uneventful (napped). BEfore I was able to let my eyelids droop over my eyes, a simply dressed young woman turned to me and asked "Are you going to the Missionary Training Center?" I nodded ad confirmed that I was indeed headed to the MTC. A huge grin split her face as she responded "ME TOO!!!"

I was so gald for her spirited response. As I dwelled on it, I thought more and more about how wonderful an experience I could have over the next two years if only I allowed myself that joy. Her name is Sis. Salfi. She is from Canada, and will be serving in the Denver South Mission.

When we landed in Salt Lake, I waited patiently for my ride, and eventually Jared Bingham appeared as if summoned, walking towards me. He took me to a Soup, Salad, and Sandwich place (Zupas, maybe) after a tour of Salt Lake, and we ate with Patrick Carroll. I made it to the MTC, and found myself surrounded by missionaries. My journey had only just begun.

A slightly more full report will follow in a week. In the meantime, feel free to email me at gavin.strawn@myldsmail.net. If you do so, please include a mailing address as I will not be able to email you back. If you would like to mail me a letter or package (no food stuffs, most unfortunately), that address is -Elder Gavin Dunlap Straw -2005 N 900 E -Provo, UT 84604. If you feel so inclined, feel free to include a stamp.

I closing, I have already greatly loved this experience, and look forward to another 103 such gleeful stories coming to you through my dearest mother who has so gratefully accepted the responsibility of posting my emails on my blog, and thence to my facebook. Cheers to all, and may your lives be as joyous as these last ten days have been for me.

A new start

I put off this post for a very simple reason; it would make it real for me. I have had three mini meltdowns and a frantic freak out; and am now in the acceptance stage (though I am sure I am going to relapse).
I leave my home for Utah in 4 and a half hours. I will return home in June of 2014. I will miss many friends, weddings, graduations, celebrations, births, deaths, and be apart from it all. I know there will be times that I will want to come back home.
I also know that I need to be out there. I need to go to Sacramento and learn and teach. I need this far more than most anyone I will come in contact with. I look froward to growing into someone I never knew that I could be.
love you all.

Mommy's are the best!

Today is my sister's first Mother's Day. She has a gorgeous, yodeling, wild haired boy. She has a handsome Sicilian for a husband. I find her to be one of the strongest personalities I have ever met. When she knows what to do, she does it. I love her, and wish her family the best. We are on the phone with her and her fam, and her baby is chortling. I LOVE YOU GUYS!!!
Now, to talk about my own mom.
On April 14th, I was able to convince my mother to buy the first season of Chuck. Three hours into watching the show, we had already ordered season 2 on DVD off Amazon. By the time I was half way through season 2, we had order seasons 3 and 4, and pre-ordered season 5. We connected ourselves to special events in the characters lives as the show progressed, including buying chess puffs, dressing up for the wedding (Awesome and Ellie get married at the end of season 2. Sorry to spoil it) and buying bottles of bubbly. We would drink fruit juice from wine glasses while watching White Collar, and eat yogurt with Michael Westen in Burn Notice. We squealed with delight at the union of Scarecrow and Mrs. King (1970's and 80's TV show), and  giggled madly at the fight choreography.
We have had an enormous amount of fun watching so many seasons of so many shows in the last year. It has been thoroughly enjoyable. I leave my family in less than a month, and I will miss my mom the most. I did not realize that until now, but there is little that my mom has done that I would argue against.
For everyone who loves their mother (and to quote Meg Ryan "Everyone loves their mother. Even people that hate their mothers love their mother."), thank them for everything they have done. I cannot even begin to fathom the will power it took to not give up on me when I was a kid.
Thank you mom, for everything I know you have done, for everything I don;t know that you have done for me, and for so much more that I know that you will be doing for me in the future. Love you tons.

I'm getting mixed signals here.

When I lived in Burke Hall, I dabbled with the idea of playing rugby or la crosse, and eventually decided on the latter. But that is a story for another day. I will instead tell a story of institute.
For those of you who don't know, institute is a form of Gospel Study designed for young adults in the Church. We study doctrine and gospel teachings at the home of our teacher on Thursday nights. Now I am using the term "we" somewhat loosely because, thus fa, I have been the only one to attend class with our teacher (excepting her husband and daughter). It is very sad because she does have so much to teach, so much to offer, and a unique perspective on the material within the lessons. It is kinda cool as well because once the lesson is over I get to just hang out with the family and talk with them about life, my upcoming departure, school, work, kids, etc.
This past week, the lesson was on Matthew 20. I did not recognize the scriptural reference off the top of my head, either, so I have included a link to my favorite set of online scripture. The passage speaks of a master of a vineyard who, through out the day, hires workers, who work hours between 1) the whole day (6am-6pm), 2)portions there of (9-6, 12-6, 3-6), and finally 3) those hired in the 11th Hour (5-6). At the end of the day, every laborer is paid an equal amount. Those hired first claim that this is unfair, that those who worked far less than they should be paid an equal share.
The main point of this parable is that no matter when the master of the vineyard comes to you, no matter when you come unto him, you will be rewarded in full. I find another valuable lesson in this.
When the master of the vineyard announced that every laborer would be paid in full, there was a bickering among those that had worked the fullness of the day, but had received wages equal of those who had worked as few as a single hour thereof. The master told them that the wage had been agreed upon before hand, and that there is no unfairness in his dealings, yet there is still anger among many of the laborers. Now, it is no business of the first laborer what the master does with his money, so long as his agreement is fulfilled. It is not up to the laborer to claim what is just and fair. The laborer must accept that by being paid, the master had done his part, and all that is left for him to do is be thankful.
Far too often we absorb ourselves with the goings on of others lives. We spend hours of our days surfing the web to get the latest scoop on celebrity gossip, or pay $8 an issue to learn the juicy details of a recent arrest, love tryst, marital argument, or drunken escapade. We then complain about how these people get the breaks, earn 75K per episode for acting like idiots on network TV, or earn multi-million dollar contracts top play a game.
It is not our place to point the judging finger, but we all take the opportunity to thrust it in others directions from time to time. If we want to act in movies, or marry royalty, or play at Wrigley Field/Lambeau Field/Yankee Stadium/The Mercedes-Benz Superdome/Fenway Park/(Insert your favorite sports complex here), then you had an opportunity. Yes, some people got the break of meeting Prince Henry, or not blowing out a knee in the midst of a great senior season, or having parents that have the political clout to get you in touch with talent scouts (even you have no semblance of talent whatsoever (REBECCA BLACK!!!)), but it is still your life.
It is up to you whether or not you are happy. I still want to play for the Pack on Sundays (although I would prefer it if all of our games were scheduled for Monday and Thursday night). If I worked uber hard, I might still be able to pull it off by the time I'm 29 years old (Brandon Weeden). But the truth is, I do not have the drive to do that. So it is, therefore, my fault that I am not playing football. And I can live with that.
We can only do as much as we can. After that, it is up to us to accept that we have been given the payments of our labors. Don't worry about the other guy/gal. Just worry about yourself.

How could I make a man out of you?

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.

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.

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.