Michael and Anne: Live From Texas

Happy Freaking Valentine's Day

2011-02-14T00:00:00.000-07:00

It has been exactly two years since our first kiss. I think this picture was taken some 20 hours (and countless kisses) after the landmark first that sealed our fate.

I kissed her at midnight on Valentine's Day. A few days later, I sent her a mistaken text that led to our St. Patrick's Day engagement. It's been a crazy two years, and it only gets crazier from here on out.

Happy Valentine's Day, Anne!

The Cove in San Antonio

2010-07-10T12:03:00.007-06:00

Looking for a laundromat in San Antonio? How about a car wash? Need a quick organic bite to eat? Well have I found the place for you.

It's called The Cove. At worst, it's San Antonio's answer to the clarion call for business diversification. Conversely, it's the hippest place to eat in the Deco District (that's right, San Antonio has a Deco District, as in art deco, as in don't get excited, it's just a street with a grocery store that belongs on Nick at Night). In one convenient and crazy place you can clean your clothes, wash your car, and eat a sustainable, organic, and locally grown meal (SOL food, as they call it). What'd you expect, chili dogs and Hostess Snacks?

Finding myself alone last Friday night (Anne's in my hometown visiting the people I grew up with. How's that for weird?), I did what any lonely married guy would do: I looked up places Guy Fieri's taken his show and visited the closest one.

When I arrived, the parking lot was packed and the line was out the door. I didn't check the washing machines out and at a glance the car wash seemed just alright, so I knew the crowd must have been there for the food. As I waited, I scanned the menu and read about their philosophy (the SOL philosophy), and knew that this was my kinda place. What can I say, I'm a sucker for sustainable, organic, and locally grown things. Example: as Anne can attest, I am picky to a fault about the softness of our toilet paper and will only acquiesce to something stiffer than 12-ply (ok, does that even exist?) if it is made from something recycled or sustainable. I await the day I can buy locally grown, organic Charmin Ultra, but something tells me that day will never come. And until it does (or doesn't), I'll continue fighting the mental battle I face when I go down the toilet paper aisle.

Okay, back to The Cove.

So I'm waiting in line, and everyone starts raving about the fish tacos. But this isn't just your average raving. People are breaking social norms and telling people they don't know (like me, the lonely married guy) that not only did they order the fish tacos but that I needed to order them as well. The fish taco chatter was weird but I decided to give it a go and try 'em out. I mean, how could that many people be wrong? (I don't want to get political, but this would be a great place to insert a picture of any number of politicians. Instead, I give you a picture of the tacos.)

Shortly after ordering, the tacos came, I ate, and I hate to say it but the tacos were mediocre at best. I don't know what the kind patrons of The Cove are using as their standard for fish tacos, but in my opinion they were no better than (or in other words they were worse than) Wahoo's or even Rubio's fish tacos. Don't get me wrong, they weren't all that bad--it's just that they weren't all that good either. I mean, I ate them in their entirety (not that that's ever an indication of quality, thank you McDonald's Dollar Menu). I would have finished the baby spinach salad they came with, too, if it weren't for the bee that wouldn't leave me alone. 50 people sitting at picnic tables and the bee chooses me. I had visions of Anne coming home to a swollen husband à la Bear Grylls in Man vs. Wild.

I am happy to report, however, that after my romantic dinner for one I escaped The Cove bee sting free, wishing all the while that I had done what I always wish I had done after I eat at a new restaurant: that I had ordered what Google, San Antonio Magazine, and Guy Fieri had told me to order and not what everyone in line was ordering. I always do this thing where I order the most exotic thing on the menu (or what the waiter doesn't explicitly recommend--elk and cow tongue to name a couple of mealtime mistakes). Had I followed Fieri's recommendation instead of the weird lady in line's idea of a good meal I could have left with a stomach full of organic Texas beef and no run-of-the-mill fish tacos.

On the bright side, the taco incident gives me a reason to go back. I mean, I didn't hate the tacos and I really want to try the burgers. Knowing me, though, I'll go back and get distracted by some new item on the menu or whatever the guests are raving about that day and end up not getting a burger, hating what I order, blogging about what I hated, and vowing to return to get that burger. I really only see this benefiting The Cove.

But as the French say: C'est la vie...

...and as I emphatically add: especially my vie.

Happy Fourth of July

2010-07-04T16:36:00.002-06:00

You can bet I'm wearing the same shirt I always do.

Happy Independence Day, everybody.

The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill

2010-07-03T06:00:00.001-06:00

Movies evoke all kinds of emotions in their viewers. Some make you laugh, some make you cry, and some make you realize how many weirdos there are out there. The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill definitely falls into that last category: it's a movie that makes you happy you are you and you're not a jobless squatter taking care of and naming non-native parrots on San Francisco's Telegraph Hill. Oops, SPOILER ALERT, I kinda just ruined the film for you. Oh well, it's not like you were gonna see it anyway. And if you were, here's one more spoiler that might deter you. In the end, the jobless squatter is evicted and starts dating the documentary's director. Definitely a case of truth trumping fiction.

I first (and last) watched the film about a year ago with my then future in-laws in a minivan between Chicago's MDW and Traverse City, Michigan. Me being the conscientious future son-in-law that I was thought it would be nice to load up my iPod with movies for our trip to a lake house in Michigan. Of course, I picked The Wild Parrots... and Helvetica, a documentary about a typeface. Now you're getting jealous you weren't there, huh? To make it even better, I pressed play before we even left the Chicago city limits. If you're wondering what my reasoning was, let's just say I'm impulsive and didn't put a whole lot of thought into it. There, I've said it.

Though it has been a year since that fateful minivan ride, nary a week has passed where I don't at least mention the lead parrot Connor and his tragic death by hawk (look out, another spoiler). Someday I hope to make a trek to SF so I can see the birds myself and get them out of my system. Until then, I pray they aren't prey and that the people of T-hill are kind to them. After I find them, they can be deported or poached or whatever.

The closest I have gotten to living out my dream has been by living vicariously through Cody (as seen here after New Years on the Pima reservation). The Code Man is currently interning in SF and working on the laundry list of things I have sent him to do for me. Number one on the list, right before visiting the Full House house and eating Rice-A-Roni: The San Francisco Treat (numbers two and three respectively), is finding the birds and reporting back to me. I am ecstatic to say he went to T-hill yesterday but am saddened by the fact that the birds were AWOL.

I'd like to say that his trek provides me with some sort of closure, but I think closure won't come until I find (or don't find) the birds myself. Who's with me? Let's go find those birds so they can stop plaguing my thoughts on an almost weekly basis.

Relaxing Getaway @ Hyatt Lost Pines Resort

2010-07-02T11:30:00.003-06:00

As all three readers of my blog already know, Anne and I spent a few days a week or two ago on our first little getaway. Fully funded by my company--a reward for our outstanding-ness--it was extremely affordable (free always is), relaxing, and eventful.

Okay, not eventful--momentous. That's right, momentous.

All of my married life (indeed, all 11 months of it), I've been listening to Anne talk about how she hates horses, that she's scared of horses, and that every time she gets near a horse the horse can sense her fear and starts to do little things that only she can see that provoke her and make her never want to be around horses ever again.

So imagine my surprise when Anne said she wanted to go horseback riding. I guess it was a testament to her "when you fall off the horse you've gotta get back on and ride again" attitude. Or maybe she has a penchant for fear and needed her fix. Whatever was driving her, a-horseback riding we did go.

On the drive up to the corral I could tell Anne was getting a little overworked about the looming horse experience. I had seen that overworked Anne all too well when I met her on the top of the Sundance Resort in the dead of winter just six months prior. She doesn't freak out at the bottom in time to not get on the lift and not get off at the back mountain where the only way down is on your skis. No, she waits 'til the top of the mountain where I have to panic and think of asking a nice ski patrolman to toboggan her to safety.

As a testament to Anne she always overcomes and ends up enjoying herself, but those moments leading up to the event can be tense. She'll probably kill me when she reads this because the pre-horse tensity was nothing compared to the near ski-death experience/meltdown we had at Sundance. But as she let you all (all three of you, yes) know here, I live to get a rise out of her. So back to the story.

As we waited for our horses, things were getting a little tense. Anne was nervous and I was trying to assuage her fears by making jokes about the situation, which usually only intensifies the problem. (I'll have to find a better coping mechanism.) When we were finally assigned horses, Anne got the sluggish and slow Jazz and I got the former racehorse Pokey. Jazz took his own sweet time on the trail (to my chagrin and Anne's delight) and Pokey galloped every chance he got (literally). If there were five feet between me and the next horse, he would gallop and then slam on the brakes.

When the ride was over, we took our horses to the water trough, which only made me think of the adage "you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink." Maybe one of you horse savvy readers can fill me in, but why is that adage even necessary? Sure, you can't make him drink, but he probably will anyway. At least that was the case with Pokey and Jazz, who we found out are bitter waterhole rivals. In the picture above, I was trying to climb down Pokey's neck to recover the reins he had yanked out of my hands as he and Jazz bit each other as a show of their extreme disdain for sharing the same trough.

As we dismounted, Anne walked away a confident horse riding woman and I walked away bowlegged and saddle sore.

We spent the rest of our time at the resort winding around the lazy river, eating smores, walking the banks of the Colorado River, getting attacked by mosquitoes, buying overpriced resort bug spray, never using said overpriced resort bug spray, and bringing home a full can of overpriced resort bug spray as a souvenir.

"Don't call it a comeback"

2010-07-01T14:53:00.005-06:00

I'm back! Did you miss me?

It has been an extremely eventful 8 months, and I've got so much to tell you. So here's a top-ten list of things that have happened since my last post:

10. Anne graduated, got a full-time job as a pastry chef, and hasn't gotten in a car accident for over a year

9. J.D. Salinger died

8. Anne got her first two cavities

7. We bought a fish (as seen here)

6. I found out Nick Jonas has diabetes (three years after the world found out)

5. We dealt with my quarter-life crisis (though I'm sure I'll be having fraction-of-life crises my whole life)

4. I said goodbye to Jenny the Asian (as seen here and here) and hello to Betty and Georgio

3. I started DVR-ing Late Night with Jimmy Fallon

2. We watched Oprah today

1. Hurricane Alex hit the Texas coast and we got rained in (thus the Oprah Show)

Okay, so it wasn't exactly the most dramatic period of my life and I did struggle a little bit coming up with that list. But don't be fooled, I was extremely affected by all of those events.

I think what it all comes down to is I want to blog again, but I couldn't move forward until I made blogging closure with the past. So there you have it, my blogging closure.

Now indulge me as I quote LL Cool J:

Don't call it a comeback
I been here for years

I didn't go anywhere, I was just on sabbatical.

Meet the Newest Member of our Family

2010-01-07T20:19:00.003-07:00

Something is seriously wrong with Michael...no blogging since October! Don't worry I'll get down to the bottom of it, and until I do I will blog about the newest member of our family...

Meet Edgar

I apologize for the fuzziness, Edgar did not like the camera.

Edgar is a cichlid, but he looks like a goldfish. Michael and I received many wonderful presents this Christmas, two of them being a fish tank and a gift card to Petco (thanks mom and dad). Several days after returning home from our vacation we headed to Petco to fill our new tank. We both wanted to get an African cichlid,

but the Fish Nazi (we'll get to him later) wouldn't sell us one. So we took home Edgar, instead. It's probably for the best. Apparently African cichlids can reach up to 10 inches in length, so one probably wouldn't do very well in our 12 inch tank.

Edgar, however, seems to be doing well. We've had him for three days and he hasn't died yet. With my fish record, that is nothing short of a miracle. Every fish I'd ever previously owned died within two days.

He enjoys his cichlid fish pellets and he loves his rock. He prefers the tank light to be off and he doesn't seem to like it when I wake him at 4 a.m. as I'm getting ready for work.

Had it been up to the Petco Fish Nazi, we wouldn't have taken home a fish that night, because we hadn't let our filled tank sit long enough. He grilled us with questions about the size of our tank and the type of light it has. Michael and I scrambled for answers and probably made some up. He insisted that we purchase a background (so the fish's color would really pop) and a $30 water heater all for our $5 fish.

I was ready to give into the fish Nazi, but Michael held strong. When he wasn't looking, we ditched the water heater and headed for the register before he could take Edgar away from us.

The most awkward moment of the night was when the Fish Nazi was informing us about the different types of fish at the store. The Tetra's, he explained, needed to be purchased in groups of three. Alone, a Tetra would get so stressed that he would die in a matter of days. The thought of a freaked out lonely fish hectically swimming around and suddenly dying seemed slightly amusing to us and Michael said out loud, "Oh, that's funny." The Fish Nazi's response: "Not to the Tetra."

Until next time,

Anne

10 Things I Didn't Know...

2009-11-11T13:57:00.023-07:00

Keeping in tradition with the title of this blog (Michael: More Than You Ever Wanted to Know), I decided that it is my wifely duty give you a little insight into the REAL Michael. These last three months with Michael have certainly been an adventure. So, I present to you a list of the 10 things I didn't know about Michael.

1. Michael is a neat freak. There, I said it. I feel like I am a relatively clean person. However, my passion for clean has been put to shame during the last few months. Clean laundry is very important to Michael. I have found myself using a bathroom towel only twice before Michael whisks it away to be washed. Michael's love for a freshly mopped floor and dusted apartment is only surpassed by his love for me (I hope).

2. Michael is always in search of new and sometimes bizarre health habits. Many of you know that Michael regularly drinks apple cider vinegar.

But you may not know about his obsession with our recently purchased Neti Pot used for nasal irrigation. Basically it's a small teapot that you fill with saline solution. Just pour the solution into one nostril and watch it flush out your sinuses.

3. Michael enjoys scaring me. I will be painting my nails in the bathroom only to finish and find that the rest of the lights in the apartment have been turned off and Michael is nowhere in sight. The first time this happened I thought that Michael had run out to get something. Before I ever had a chance to turn a light on Michael jumped out of his hiding place screaming/squealing. I'm slowly learning and can usually catch him in the act.

4. If you tell Michael you don't like the song that's playing on the radio he will likely turn it up. Just as he is likely to slow the car down when you tell him you have to use the bathroom on the way home from a movie.

5. Along with getting Michael on August 8th 2009, I also received several other "gems". One small puppet penguin that is often thrown at me during unsuspecting times, a tin man alarm clock, a dashboard hula dancer, and a bedazzeled skull named Leonard. (Ok the last one came after we were married but it was given in honor of Michael's Ed Hardy shoes, so I consider it his).

6. Michael has a very distinct bedtime ritual. He drinks a glass of apple cider vinegar, flosses his teeth, brushes his teeth, washes his face, takes his vitamin pills (and vitamin D spray), turns off the light, plugs in his phone, sends a few texts, and sets his alarm. Then he's ready to sleep.

7. Michael loves to cook and he is very very good at it. Every meal he has made was delicious, which is more than I can say about some of the meals I've attempted.

8. Michael has a special place in his heart for weird movies. Baby Jane was just the tip of the iceberg.

There was also Rumba, Lars and the Real Girl, The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill, Helvitica, and Year of the Dog. Check out any of those previously mentioned at your own discretion.

9. Michael loves his family. I was born into a loving, wonderful family, and I have been lucky enough to marry into another loving, wonderful family. Michael loves his family and doesn't go a day without talking to, or texting, at least one of them.

10. Michael is an extremely caring and compassionate husband.

I guess I had an idea about this one before the wedding day. But, I don't think I completely realized how amazing he was until we tied the knot. He may have his quirks, but I do in fact love every single one, except for maybe that scaring thing. Yeah, I could do without that one.

Well, there you have it. Now your knowledge of Michael is even more extensive. Feel free to bring up any of these items the next time you see him. I'm sure he'll appreciate it.

Until next time,

Anne

Michael Martin Murphy or John Michael Montgomery?

2009-10-15T22:01:00.007-06:00

I don't know if this is a real memory, or something I made up today, but it made me laugh so much that I had to share it with y'all.

Back when John Michael Montgomery was singing about the Grundy County Auction, Robyn (my sister) had to have his album. She asked for it for Christmas, and my dad (or Santa, I can't remember) tried his best to deliver.

When Christmas morning came around, Robyn's heart was broken when she opened up a CD-shaped package only to find Michael Martin Murphy's (not John Michael Montgomery's) face staring back at her.

And wouldn't you be heartbroken, too? I mean, compare their pictures.

John Michael Montgomery looks like someone Robyn's teenage heart could have crushed all over.

Michael Martin Murphy looks like Chuck Norris with a cowboy hat on.

See what I mean?

Ragnar Relay Las Vegas 2009

2009-10-12T05:00:00.001-06:00

On the last leg, I told my teammates that I didn't come to Vegas to drive the losing team to the finish line. Even though I was being sarcastic, they were in no way the losing team.

Besides coming to the Ragnar Relay's Las Vegas Series to be the driver of a non-losing team, I came to spend the weekend with friends and family in a seven passenger car as we worked as a team to relay across a 171 mile course that started at the Clark County Fairgrounds and ended at the Red Rock Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas.

We spent a lot of time together and covered a lot of ground. Here are a few pictures to help you get a photo-recap of the weekend.

The team ran all day and all night and then all day again. By the end we were tired and a little loopy (especially Joe before his last leg).

After seeing the race first hand, I might be tempted to do more than drive the next time Robyn asks me to participate.

Eins, Zwei, Zuffa

2009-10-06T23:15:00.006-06:00

When you're a Mormon attending Utah's version of Oktoberfest, the only activities you're going to be able to participate in are those loosely linked with, but not at the center of, the original Bavarian celebration. That is, you're not going to be able to drink beer, so you're going to have to settle for Americanized polka dancing, $10 Johnsonville bratwursts (the least Bavarian of all the brats), and the alpine slide.

On Labor Day, Anne and I decided to give it a shot and see how well Utah could do Oktoberfest. We went with hopes of enjoying our German heritage, doing German things, and especially finding some German lederhosen for me und a German dirndl for Anne.

Our hopes were shattered after searching the Oktoberfest market, where all we could find were Mexican bracelets, knockoff sunglasses, and blankets emblazoned with wolves, bears, and other North American (or non-German) animals.

In dire need of a distraction from the very disappointing market, we headed up the hill to wait two hours to take the 30 second ride down the alpine slide. It was fun, but still not German enough.

So, in a last ditch effort to do something German, we ordered and ate the $10 brats (each with a side of $5 sauerkraut), and topped off our meal with some German chocolate cake (the least German of all the cakes--except in name).

While we ate, the polka band made us feel a little bit closer to our German roots. I mean, they did play some polka music...before they ended their set with an Irish jig.

Baby Jane Hudson

2009-09-28T21:38:00.005-06:00

As part of my continuing efforts to initiate Anne to Michael's Weird and Obscure Movie Club, I recently rented Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?

(The initiation process has been going on since we started dating, and will continue until she decides to get onto our Blockbuster Online account and add some movies of her choice to the queue.)

I first saw Baby Jane when I was in high school. It was one of those serendipitous meetings. I was flipping the channels late at night and stopped on AMC long enough to get a glimpse of Baby Jane (played by Bette Davis) doing something crazy.

The crazy factor kept me watching intently until the movie ended and led me to eventually renting and falling in like with the crazy characters, the crazy" plot, and the crazy surprise ending.

So next time you find yourself in the mood for two and a half hours of crazy (or, as in Anne's case, you find yourself with someone who's always up for crazy), go out and rent Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?

If you're only in the mood for two minutes of crazy, watch this.

Welcome to Michael's Weird and Obscure Movie Club.

The Killers at the E Center

2009-09-27T00:16:00.006-06:00

After a semi-hiatus from the blog (semi because for 6 months I put up two posts, and they were both the result of a self-imposed family birthday related obligation), I am back.

What brought me back, you ask? Anne would like me to tell you I'm back to blog about the wedding, honeymoon, and subsequent marital bliss that is now my life.

Though entertaining, those subjects will all have to wait. I mean, I like blogging about weddings, but there is something else out there that I love even more (and as that girl from 10 Things I Hate About You let us know, there's a difference between like and love).

Okay, so I'll get to the point.

Tonight, Anne and I attended our first post-wedding concert. Actually, besides the BYU Phil and the Utah Symphony, it was the first concert ever in the history of Anne and Michael.

And yes, there were two outrageously drunk, middle-aged men to the right of us that had the craziest dance moves you can imagine.

And yes, there were two daddy-chaperones (out with their daughters) on our left who had their hands over their ears for most of the show.

And no, sadly, I didn't get any pictures.

But I did live to blog about it, so please, imagine the most outrageous characters you can think of, and know that they were ALL in attendance at tonight's show.

Oh, and if you didn't pick it up from the title, we went to see The Killers at the E Center.

Imagine the glitz, the glamor, and the lights of the old strip in Vegas (their hometown), then imagine taking all that on tour, with a modern man in black at the helm. There were lights, there were fireworks, and there was music. And good music, at that.

Now, I know what you're all wondering. Your asking yourselves, "Why do they call themselves The Killers?" Check out out this Jimmy Kimmel skit below for the answer.

Common sense could've told me that.

--

So now that I'm back, maybe I'll blog about the wedding.

And maybe I'll blog about the honeymoon.

And maybe I'll blog about my summer.

And...

And...

And...

Stay tuned.

An Embarrassing Story About Robyn on Her Birthday

2009-08-01T12:25:00.005-06:00

Robyn's turning 29, so here's a great picture and a great story to help her (and us) celebrate.

We are a family of fair-skinned sun-lovers. However, it isn't a healthy relationship--when everyone else gets tanner, we get pinker. Robyn isn't an exception to this rule, though I think she wishes more than the rest of us that she were.

Growing up, she spent the most time tanning (or pinking). That means she also got the most warnings about skin cancer from our parents. Despite the warnings, she hated sun screen, and probably can count on one hand how many times she wore it while in high school.

One of the few times she applied sunscreen, she decided to use it only to strategically cover her moles. After the sun had set and the burns had appeared, she was a spotted mess.

And that's why we love Robyn!

She's in Vegas right now for the weekend with her friends, and you can bet she's spending some time by the pool. Let's just hope that she doesn't come home spotted this time. (But if she does, hopefully there will be pictures and blogs to follow.)

Happy birthday, Robyn.

Mom's 28 Years and 12 Days Old

2009-04-20T14:35:00.006-06:00

Happy Birthday, Mom (12 Days Ago...)!

28 years ago (don't do the math, it's disturbing), my mom was born. At the beginning of April, we were lucky enough to have her out here so we could celebrate it all together. It was pretty great.

In thinking about this post, I've decided to share some of my favorite mom stories. She's an amazing woman with a huge heart and a lot of personality. If you're lucky to get to know her, you too will be amazed by the woman that she is.

Mom loves music, and has passed her passion on to me. When she was a teenager, she went to a Carlos Santana concert. Alice Cooper happened to be performing at that concert, too. She likes us to think that she went just for Carlos, but I know deep down that she was excited to see Mr. Cooper live.

You must realize that mom has quite a talent to see through facades and look at people for who they are beneath their make-up and theatrics.

I'm sure to her, Alice has always been a nice guy with an affinity for bats.

Now, when I was a teenager, Weezer came out with their single "Hash Pipe." At that point, MTV had taught me what a half pipe was and anyone who knows me now knows that I am very familiar with hash browns...

But the FCC hadn't allowed the media to teach me about hash pipes, yet. Innocently, as we were running some afternoon errands (with some of my friends along for the ride) and listening to "Hash Pipe" on KROQ or Star 98.7 (which was only allowed/tolerated with mom, not dad), I asked my mom what exactly a hash pipe was. In my mind, I think I had concocted some sort of McDonald's snack for skaters.

Mom, who had become all to familiar with hash pipes during her concert days in the 70s, told me the honest truth. I found out that it was a sort of skaters snack that made them crave McDonald's, but it wasn't even close to what I was picturing. I'm sure my friends thought I was an ignorant idiot, but to them, my mom was a superstar.

So, on that note, happy (belated) birthday to the coolest mom around.

Stay tuned next year for more stories.

Tonight, on Dateline.

2009-04-09T22:44:00.002-06:00

For those of you who have been wondering what has been occupying my time and keeping me from blogging, this is it.

And this.

If you watch enough SNL sketches, you'll find at least one you actually like. If you're lucky, you'll find one that even makes you laugh.

The Birthday Festivities

2009-03-29T00:12:00.008-06:00

I could try to make this funny, or witty, or whatever, but it's just gonna take too much effort.

So...

I had quite the birthday a few weeks ago, and I need to let those who made it great know that I actually appreciated what they did.

First off, I was treated to a trip home to Nashville by my parents. I think the original plan was to see me before I left the country for four months. Update: Peru is a no-go. I decided making money and getting married not-penniless was better than spending the summer abroad and coming home with a bank account that would get me the key to bum town. (Anne, what do you think? Rent's cheap, food's free...)

Nashville was fun. Unfortunately, the photo evidence of that trip is on my parents' computer.

Thanks, mom and dad.

When I got back to Salt Lake from Nashville, my grandma paid me a birthday visit at my sister's house.

Thanks, grandma.

Cody was glad when I got back to Provo. He wanted to show off his hard work at decorating my room.

Please notice that my bed has arms (Snuggie), and that my present is in a princess bag.

Cody wasn't actually the mastermind behind the decorations. He was just there to reach all the high places. When I saw the princess bag, I knew that this could only be the work of my friends Tammy and Melissa.

Thanks, Tammy and Melissa (and Chelsea and Callie...and Cody).

When I got to work the next day, I found a 20-pack of these in "my" drawer.

They can be purchased here.

Thanks, Chelsea (different Chelsea from the one mentioned above).

Later that night or week (I really don't remember now), Anne gave me her present, and then a week later, she constructed the birthday cake of all birthday cakes. I wish I had taken a picture of it. It was a real work of art. She took my favorite flavor (lime) and one of my favorite foods (cake) and turned it into a party in my mouth. Fantastic.

Thanks, Anne.

And thanks again to everyone that participated in the big two-four. I needed something like this to help me cope with the quarter-life crisis I've been having this last decade.

Happy birthday to me!

Save The Date!

2009-03-17T23:59:00.000-06:00

To the surprised (and the not so surprised) readers of my blog, I hereby officially announce the engagement of Michael (me) to Anne (the girl).

We took some preliminary engagement pictures a while back. Let me know what you think.

Can't you see why I'm madly in love? Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Oh, and plan on August 8.

I love my coworkers!

2009-03-13T00:55:00.003-06:00

This morning, I walked into the pastry kitchen at work, and all of the crew knew that my birthday was coming up. A few minutes later, I walked into the hot-food kitchen, and the sous chef asked me if my birthday was today or soon. When I asked her how she knew I was about to have a birthday, she said the banquet chef had told her. I was perplexed that everyone knew.

Later, when I was out on an event, I got a call from one of the consultants. She told me I needed to stop by her office sometime today. When the event was served, I walked back to our main office, curious about all the attention I had been getting about my pending birthday.

It all made sense when I was presented with 12 of these.

Apparently, they were made by both the sous chef and the pastry kitchen and most likely ordered by Candice, one of our consultants. A joint birthday celebration effort, if you will.

I know you're wondering, so let me just tell you. They are divine. Think of how much you love Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, and then multiply that by 65 billion. That's how good they are.

For this, and many other reasons, I love my coworkers. Thanks, guys!

Happy Birthday, Padre!

2009-03-10T13:13:00.005-06:00

Here's dad in front of one of our family's more recent favorites, the Loveless Cafe.

Isn't that a flattering picture? Ever since the computer crash of 2008 when I lost all of my pictures, the pickings have been pretty slim.

Anyway, today my dad turns 53! In honor of his birthday, I would like to list 5.3 things I like/appreciate/enjoy/love about him (53 is just too dang many).

1. Dad does more for me than I deserve. I don't know what I would do without the Bob Johnson Scholarship Fund. I always tell him I'll return it to him when he's old, senile, and wearing diapers. We'll pay someone to change those...

2. Dad loves cars, always drives fast, and is passionate about his work. He has passed those traits on to me. In fact, the older I get, the more I realize how like my dad I am. Unlike the teenage Michael, I think being like my dad will be pretty cool.

3. Dad likes to eat out, and is always adventurous. I think I got my appetite for anything and everything from him. He's also generous and always takes my friends out whenever he gets the chance.

4. Dad laughs the hardest at his own jokes. There's nothing better than watching him crack up as he reads a funny e-mail over the pulpit in Church or tells a funny story that happened to him in Japan or D.C. or wherever.

5. Nobody does a better Mexican-American English accent than dad. I think he learned it from our gardener way back when. "I don't pick up the sh**."

6. Dad loves his family and loves to...

(I said only 5.3 things!)

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Things that go bump in the night.

2009-03-02T11:54:00.002-07:00

If this doesn't give you nightmares, I don't know what will.

They used to have several of these along the front window of a shopping center on Center Street here in Provo. Either somebody bought them or they realized that no one had shopped in any of their stores while the man-headed swans were guarding the entrance.

Obsession

2009-02-26T05:00:00.003-07:00

So, maybe it all started in high school when I was on the newspaper. Or maybe it was all those Dr. Seuss books I read as a child. Whatever it is, I have a special place in my heart for fonts.

When I stumbled across this website, I knew it was meant to be. If I could, I would buy everything they sell.

Including this font.

And this one.

Oh, and this shirt, "Pumping Irony." (I thought it was particularly fitting after reading fitmepink's latest post.)

Anyway, just had to let you all in on that little secret. If you're ever bored, head to Veer. You're sure to find something I like!

Ski Day 2009

2009-02-25T00:45:00.004-07:00

Robyn already blogged this trip, but I guess I'll give it a go anyway.

Five years ago, I think I broke a rib at Brighton. Check that story out here. After that night, I vowed to never return to the Brighton Ski Resort. Strange how five years and free lift passes can really change your attitude about something.

A few weeks ago, Robyn and Joe scored some free lift passes off of our uncle Steve, who "works" on the ski patrol at Brighton. Subsequently, we went skiing (Robyn, Joe, Anne, and me).

No broken ribs, so I can't complain. Actually, it was really fun. If I'm lucky, I'll go one more time before the season ends.

Who wants a good laugh?

2009-02-24T14:27:00.001-07:00

Just found this little gem. Give it a read. You might laugh.

Snow Olmec Head

2009-02-16T05:00:00.000-07:00

Cody and Maggie found another disgusting snow creature here in beautiful Provo. Tonight we took a field trip to pay homage.

Okay, maybe it's not actually that disgusting...except for it's nasty, long tongue.

And its nostrils.

And its deep ear canals.

Maggie and Cody felt the need to take "prom" pictures next to it.

Which inspired Anne and me to follow suit.

We didn't slip like Maggie, but our "prom" picture was probably a little dorkier.

Thanks be to the creator of this snow behemoth for some great Sunday night entertainment/lifelong memories.

Katy Perry

2009-02-15T12:51:00.003-07:00

Usually I try to get concert posts up before 5 AM the day after. I was a little lax on this one, the concert was 5 days ago.

Anyway...

As a kick-off for my friend Tammy's birthday week, we went to see Katy Perry in Salt Lake City. I have to admit, even though I love concerts, I was a little worried about going to this one. I like the performer, but because of one of her songs, I knew she was going to draw a slightly "different" crowd. After some internal debating, I concluded that I could justify going since it was for a friend's birthday.

Before the show started, we had to make the trip even better by stopping at Chipotle. In and of itself, that made the trip worth it.

I also gave the girls some custom Katy Perry quote shirts made by Kimberly at Create A Onsie. My shirt said "I kissed a girl, and I liked it."

We looked like legitimate fans.

The opening band wasn't anything memorable. Katy Perry, however, was a great performer. Unlike some artists, she sounds great live.

She ended the night with "I Kissed a Girl." The crowd went wild. The show was worth it.

"Cupid, Draw Back Your Bow"

2009-02-15T00:38:00.009-07:00

Cody cooked, I set the table.

Anne and Maggie provided the desserts.

Now the night's over, and the dishes still need to be washed.

And the desserts most certainly aren't going to put themselves away.

But why do today what I can put off 'til tomorrow? Right now, I just want to snuggle with my BRAND NEW SNUGGIE!

Anne surprised and delighted me with this personalized cloak-blanket.

Here's a closer look at her handiwork.

I used to struggle and fight with blankets. Lucky for me, those days are long gone. Now I will be warm in style.

Thanks, Anne, for a great Valentine's Day!

The desserts were great, the Snuggie was a good surprise with lasting value, and the movie was the least romantic movie I have ever seen or will ever see (but it was so symbolic and profound).

Snow-Indian Wins!

2009-02-03T05:00:00.001-07:00

The pictures of Provo's biggest eyesore (as blogged about here) were taken on Saturday around midnight. At that point, the snow-beast was fully intact.

After church on Sunday, we drove past the beast's lair to see if he was still haunting the street. It was then that we saw traces of the massacre that had occurred. His body was still intact, but his head was missing. Between midnight and noon on Sunday, someone had decapitated the snow-beast.

Now that his head is gone, I almost miss it.

Seeking retribution and vindication, we left this sign.

First, we tried to stick the sign into his body.

Rigor mortise had already set in, and the body was as hard as ice.

Since my last post was titled "Snow-Indian vs. Snow-beast," I can only assume that the snow-Indian stole the snow-beast's head. That would mean the snow-Indian won...this round.

Snow-Indian vs. Snow-beast

2009-02-01T05:00:00.000-07:00

It's winter, and snowmen have become fairly prevalent in Provo. The snow-made creatures are populating front yards, common areas, median strips, and the occasional empty lot.

One of my favorite snowmen is built on campus every year. As soon as the first big storm rolls in, some group of people (or gnomes, I'm not quite sure) heads up to campus and turns our beloved American Indian statue into a giant snowman.

Like most snowmen, the Indian snowman evokes nothing but good feelings in my heart. (I think he's from a friendly tribe.)

I wish I could say the same about this thing.

From his sunken eyes to his cat ears, I hate everything about this snowman.

I hate that I have to drive by him every time I go down 700 East.

I hate that he refuses to melt, no matter how warm it gets.

I hate that he has a human nose.

I hate his asymmetrical whiskers.

I hate that he has a "Y" on his chest.

I hate that he somewhat resembles Cosmo.

I could go on.

Who knew that I could feel this way about a snowman? Then again, this is no ordinary snowman..cat...mascot...BEAST.

Though I have yet to ski this season and there's a lot of sledding and snowball throwing that could provide some good entertainment, I am praying for winter's end for no other reason than the destruction of Provo's biggest eyesore, the ugly snow-thing.

He will forever haunt my dreams.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Spinlates

2009-01-28T06:00:00.001-07:00

Bored? Check out my guest blog on Fit Me Pink for some cheap entertainment. That's right, I'm a guest blogger on a women's fitness blog. I like to think that I am to Fit Me Pink as Dr. Oz is to Oprah. (Yeah, I dominated those on the SATs.)

My Fit Me Pink post is about my first experience in a Pilates class. Fascinating, right?

Now, in other news, last night as I was on my way to Spinlates (you'll find out what Spinlates is if you read my entire entry over at Fit Me Pink), I got pulled over.

I was in a hurry, and had broken at least 15 laws on my way to the gym. Fortunately for me, I broke all of those laws before the cop saw me. He decided to pull me over because he was bored. Oh, well I guess I don't know that for sure. He said he ran my plates and couldn't find any proof of insurance.

At hearing that, I hurriedly (I was gonna be late to Spinlates if he didn't hurry) explained to him that my car is a company lease car through my dad's work and that it's insured in California even though it's licensed and registered in Utah. I handed him all the paperwork he should've needed, but he still wasn't satisfied. He said that my insurance card didn't specifically state that the vehicle I was driving was insured.

(BS, I thought. You just want to issue me a citation, hoping that I don't appear in court so I have to pay whatever penalty or fee or whatever is associated with that. Maybe if I'm really delinquent, Dog the Bounty Hunter will come after me. My 15 minutes of fame is on it's way. Thanks, traffic cop.)

I know he's probably a simple man, and that he's probably never been north of Lehi or south of Spanish Fork, but come on! There's a world of insurance companies and policies out there. As a cop, he should know the ins and outs of all of them, so that I, the one who doesn't get paid for all the time I have to spend dealing with having done absolutely nothing wrong (in front of him), don't have to be inconvenienced. I'm the taxpayer. Geez! The car's a lease. I don't even own or insure the car I drive. Take it up with them, not me.

In the end, I got a citation and have to appear at the Provo Justice Court "not less than (5) five nor more than (14) fourteen days after issuance of this citation." Even worse, he made me late to Spinlates. To console myself for the inconvenience, I stopped at McDonald's to hit up the Dollar Menu. That's right, instead of burning upwards of 1000 calories, I ate my weight in McDonald's grease.

Ready for the twist? Yesterday at lunch I told Cody I was overdue for a ticket. In my mind, I was thinking of the 15 laws I broke before the cop saw me. Funny how fate put a twist on that one. Didn't see that one coming!

I Want to be Bear Grylls

2009-01-27T14:16:00.006-07:00

Have you read Bear's blog? If you haven't, you're missing out.

beargrylls.blogspot.com

Every woman loves him and every man wants to be him.

Stop by sometime for some behind-the-scenes entertainment.

Three Years and Running

2009-01-22T11:40:00.010-07:00

As tradition dictates, the Martin Luther King, Junior holiday weekend is to be spent in California. The Saturday of the weekend must be spent at Disneyland, and the Sunday must be spent visiting beaches and temples. Admission to Disneyland must be free and it had better be the best weekend of the year.

The first year I went, there were 11 people.

Last year, the count dropped to nine.

This year, there were only three die-hards who could make the trek.

Planning was a little late this year, too. I realized sometime last week that the holiday was coming up and no one had planned the trip. After making some calls, it was apparent that nothing was going down unless I made it happen. With only a few days to plan, I secured a place to stay (thanks, Susie) and a friend to sign us in (for free) to the Happiest Place on Earth.

We left Provo at 2:00 PM on Friday. We got to Susie's around 11:00 PM that night. I was tired, but the 10 year-old that lives inside me wouldn't let me sleep past 7:00 AM the next day. I'm sure Dede and Anne were surprised/shocked/appalled when I jumped on their bed at 7:01 AM. Disneyland was waiting, and we didn't have any time to waste.

We were in the park by 9:30 AM, ready for a day of magic.

This picture probably best describes what it was like for Dede and Anne as I chauffeured them around this weekend.

I try every time I go, and still nothing!

The honey pots.

As the girls trained with Mulan...

I cut in with the crocodile from Fantasia.

After a great day at Disneyland, we watched the world's best firework show and were on our way.

The next day we went to my old ward for Sacrament meeting and then on to Santa Monica to taste the salty sea air and see some weirdos.

Apparently, I fit in with the weirdos better than I thought.

We also visited the LA Temple, but didn't get any pictures 'til we were driving away.

Our next stop was Newport Beach. We hopped on the freeway in Santa Monica and were in Newport in 20 minutes. I joked with Dede and Anne that everything in LA is 20 minutes away (traffic pending).

In Newport, we walked around the temple, visited some banana stands on Balboa Island, and went into Laguna Beach. We were hoping for an LC sighting, but she's obviously moved on to bigger and better things.

Another year, another great trip. If you want in next year, just let me know, because I will be going again. After three years, it really is a tradition.

See you then!

Christmas Break with the Snowbirds

2009-01-11T17:10:00.018-07:00

I spent the first half of my Christmas break here in Utah with the entire family (minus a few cousins). For a partial report on that, check my sister Robyn's blog. It was good to see everybody and be with family.

Unfortunately, before the dust could settle, Christmas was over, my mom and dad were back in Nashville and my sister Kimberly was in Cedar City. With the family gone, I went the way of the Snowbirds down to Arizona.

My roommate Cody lives in Scottsdale and invited me down for the week after Christmas. Always up for an adventure, I couldn't say no.

You've met Cody before. Just in case you've forgotten who he is, here's a picture.

Cody and I spent the week doing all things Scottsdale. From mountain biking and hiking, to cruising Scottsdale's malls, sneaking onto the local golf course after hours, going to a Sun's game, and ringing in 2009 on the Pima Reservation, we did it all. We logged a lot of hours in Cody's car, visited with friends, and enjoyed our last week of vacation before the new semester started up.

It was a great week.

Of special interest in Arizona was the local vegetation. In a weeks time, my Arizonan friends made a special effort to teach me everything there is to know about it. From the "dangerous" nature of the jumping cholla to the local laws regarding the treatment of the saguaro cactus, I am now an expert. Ask me what the Five C's of Arizona are, and I'll say "cattle, citrus, climate, copper, and cotton."

All it took was a week, and I was ready to settle down and stay. The locals told me I'd think twice if I knew what July was like.

To make the trip complete, Cody and I decided to come back to Provo via Las Vegas. Originally, we were going to stay with our friend Natalie in Henderson. When she left for Provo early, Cody and I were left with no other option than to stay at the Riviera Hotel on the Strip. It was no Bellagio or or Venetian, but the price was right.

On the way to Vegas we stopped for lunch in the Route 66 town of Kingman.

We had to choose between Mr. D'z Route 66 Diner and fast food. After eating there, I would recommend it to anyone. Everything was what you would expect, right down to the bickering waitresses.

After Kingman, our path took us by the Hoover Dam. I was a dam first timer , so we stopped to get the full dam experience. We took a dam walk and some dam pictures. Dam, it was big. We had a dam good time.

After the dam, Vegas was just a few minutes up the road. With only one night to take advantage of the "What happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas" mantra, we had to do as much as possible with the time we had. For two Mormon boys, this entailed walking from one end of the Strip to the other and back. We made sure to take in all the sights (while trying to not look at the ground).

We watched the Volcano Show at the Mirage.

Gawked at the lights and crowds.

Payed homage to the Bellagio Fountains.

And dropped our jaws in at least 17 different (but identical) malls.

By the end of the night, we had walked at least 12 miles and seen everything free that Vegas had to offer (with the exception of the video black jack machines, which are not free, despite how lucky you feel).

After our "wild" night in Vegas, we were a little more ready to head back to Utah, school, and the snow. Besides a stop at my sister's house in Cedar City, the rest of the trip is history.

Happy 2009!

2009-01-01T06:00:00.001-07:00

When most people dream of the perfect New Year's Eve, they imagine themselves in places like Time Square, Las Vegas, or London. I have to admit, I've dreamed of those places before.

After last night, however, I know there is no better place to ring in the New Year than on the Salt River Pima Reservation just outside of Scottsdale, Arizona.

We hadn't planned on spending the evening here, but when we saw the Ferris Wheel from the freeway, we couldn't resist.

I've been spending the week at Cody's house. We met up with our friend Tammy for the day. When we got to the gates at the "rez," we were glad we had her. As I like to tell her, she's a card-toting member of the Navajo Nation. Amongst the Pima people, she made us feel a little less out-of-place.

To me, the carnival we stumbled upon seemed like a scene out of What's Eating Gilbert Grape.

That's why I felt the need to ride the "fun slide." In my mind, the carnival allowed me to live Johnny Depp and Leo DiCaprio's roles.

Speaking of Leo, I also felt the need to climb the "rez's" water tower, but refrained for fear that they wouldn't allow me to come back next year.

After the Ferris Wheel and the "fun slide," I had had my fill. Cody, however, refused to leave without going on one more ride.

At carnivals, I do not do well with most rides that spin, rotate, or gyrate. The ride Cody was interested in did at least two of the three. As I prepared myself to board, I could already feel the nausea coming on.

After the ride, I was alive, but had lost my voice and couldn't tell what bodily orifice was gonna give, but knew that one of them probably would. I managed to keep it all inside, and eventually even got over it.

Cody was much better off than me. You could even say he was giddy. This picture was taken just seconds after we dismounted.

Like any good Native American Reservation, there was a Casino next door. After enjoying what the carnival had to offer, we moved over there to try our odds with Lady Luck.

Cody went from giddy to beyond depressed when he lost $4 at video poker.

He went back to giddy when he made $7 dollars back in a slot machine. He thanked the Pima people for giving him $3 to celebrate the New Year with them. I told him he should thank me, since three of those dollars came from the five I lost playing games I don't even understand.

We watched the ball drop in the middle of a smoke-filled playing floor, and were possibly the only people who were able to pull away from gambling for at least 30 seconds to bring in 2009.

All in all, it was a great New Year's Eve.

Hard to Reach Places

2008-12-23T06:00:00.001-07:00

It's Christmas break, and Provo is a ghost town. For the last few days, I have been the only person alive in this small section of the world. I feel kinda like Will Smith in I Am Legend crossed with Tom Hanks in Castaway. Oh, and after today's activities, we need to add a little Danny Tanner, the clean freak from Full House, to the mix.

My evening started out with a trip to WalMart to purchase some much-needed cleaning supplies. Upon my return from WalMart, I started with the kitchen.

I was planning on keeping it simple, but when you're down on the ground, you gain a new perspective on how gross things really are. That's when I pulled the fridge and oven away from the wall.

There were lots of surprises down there. I thought the half-eaten Skittle was going to take the cake, but then a spider came crawling out from who knows where. What the spider has been surviving on, I'll never know...unless spiders eat Skittles.

When I pushed the appliances back into their proper places, I noticed the cupboard above the fridge. I've lived in this apartment for over two years, and I don't think I've ever opened that cupboard.

As you can see, there was nothing too exciting...other than the gelatinous goo that used to be Gatorade. I threw it away.

Next was the floor. It needed more than just a Swiffering. I had to get down Cinderella style for this part.

Any resemblance?

After that, I hit the bathroom hard. It shines like it's never shone before.

Unfortunately I didn't photo-document the bathroom. I didn't get the vacuuming part, either. You probably would've enjoyed that, especially the part where I took our full-sized industrial upright vacuum to the couch and cushions. It has no attachments, so I had to make do.

I blame my mom for making me like this.

Better Than a Snuggie

2008-12-19T23:59:00.001-07:00

My friends Tammy and Melissa just gave me a Christmas present.

Here they are.

Tammy's on the left, Melissa's on the right.

And here's the present (the blanket, if you couldn't guess).

With winter coming on full force this week, this blanket will serve me well. Because it was made with love, and not in China, it's even better than a Snuggie.

If you haven't heard of the Snuggie yet, you should watch more daytime Fox News.

When it comes to presents, making someone a blanket is ideal, but if you don't have the time or the know how, the Snuggie is your next best bet. It will keep your body warm and your arms accessible all year, no matter the weather!

Don't be fooled by the Slankie and other imitators. For only $19.95 (plus S&H), you can wear the Snuggie! I've done my homework, as you can tell in the background of the picture of me with my blanket.

What's more? Call now and receive TWO Snuggies for the price of just ONE! With the economy the way it is, what're you waiting for? Turn down the thermostat and wear the Snuggie today.

Thanks to Tammy and Melissa, I no longer need a Snuggie...at least not 'til next Halloween. Did I mention the Snuggie makes a great costume?

This Just In...

2008-12-18T23:59:00.001-07:00

Finals are coming to a close, and I may never see the spaghetti-snacking weirdo from my philosophy class again.

To his credit, I have stumbled upon another human being that snacks on hard spaghetti. This person, however, is the fictitious Gob (pronounced Job) played by Will Arnett in Arrested Development.

If I were even mildly tempted to eat raw spaghetti on a regular basis, this would definitely push me over the edge.

I Want a Wii!

2008-12-17T07:34:00.005-07:00

Shameless, but I entered a contest to win a Wii and a Wii Fit. Posting a link to it on my blog increases my chances of winning. I would encourage you all to sign up, but then my chances of winning would decrease, so please, whatever you do, do not click here before or on 20 December 2008.

Then, if all goes as planned, this will be me when I'm older.

And I'll spend my retirement years here.

Let's make this happen.

"Don't Shoot Me Santa" - The Killers

2008-12-12T23:59:00.003-07:00

Last year, I opened your eyes to "A Great Big Sled," The Killers' Christmas song from two years ago.

This year, therefore, I find it only fitting that I show you "Don't Shoot Me Santa," their Christmas song from last year.

Next year, I might show you this year's song. Then again, maybe not; I haven't yet decided if I like it. By next year, I'm sure it will have grown on me.

Anyway, without further ado, I give you "Don't Shoot Me Santa," by The Killers.

Merry Christmas!

Who is this woman?

2008-12-11T23:59:00.000-07:00

I Googled a picture of her for my last post, and I can't get her out of my head. So many questions...

Why is she hiking the Inca Trail?

Why is she holding a hairbrush?

Where can I get that sweater/hammer-pant combo?

Is she smiling? She's like the Mona Lisa.

Why are her arms so long?

So many questions, so little time! I hope I meet her on my internship.

Andean Region, Here I Come

2008-12-09T22:00:00.000-07:00

When I declared myself as a Latin American Studies major, I knew fully well that to graduate, I had to go on an internship or study abroad somewhere, preferably in Latin America.

This year, with graduation looming on the horizon, I knew something had to be done. That's when I got an e-mail from my school informing me about internships through the International Study Programs (ISP) office on campus. I saw that they were offering internship opportunities next Spring/Summer in the Andean Region of South America, and decided it wouldn't hurt to apply.

On November 25 (the deadline), I turned in my essay, my letters of recommendation, a locket of hair, and my zodiac sign to the office. The next week (after Thanksgiving) I had an interview with the program's advisers, and the day after that I was officially accepted to the program. At that point, I knew for sure I'd be spending four months next year somewhere in the Andean Region.

It turns out, the Andean Region is huge. I won't know which part I'll be calling home 'til next semester when the office officially places me. So for now, all I know is that in less than five months, I'll be hanging out (interning) somewhere between Antarctica and Panama. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for Peru, but we'll see.

Despite my lack of specific knowledge about where and with what organization I'll be interning, my advisers at ISP have encouraged me to start preparing now for my international experience by studying up on the region, the people, and the politics. Since I'm counting on Peru, my focus will be on that part of the region until further notice.

Now, my first step in the preparation process is to watch The Emperor's New Groove on a weekly basis.

I haven't quite figured out my second step yet.

As far as what I'm looking forward to, there is a lot I need to see/experience.

First, Machu Picchu.

I'll definitely squeeze in a visit to Shakira on Lake Titicaca.

And I'm planning on endless encounters with Llamas.

And wearing nothing but sweaters woven by natives from Alpaca wool.

I can hardly wait.

Chrismukkah?

2008-12-04T23:38:00.003-07:00

If you needed help getting into the Chrismukkah spirit, here it is.

Real post coming soon...

Hungry?

2008-11-24T12:37:00.002-07:00

While looking through what seemed to be a less-than-promising album on Facebook, I stumbled across this gem.

Good Things Happen

2008-11-21T09:07:00.003-07:00

I love these things. I did this one a while back, and feel that it is time to post another. I could do these every day and be perfectly content. I got this one from my friend Dede. For the sake of not boring you through all the "not cool" ones, I'm only gonna post a few.

These are the guidelines:

1. Put your iTunes on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS!

And now the highlights from my shuffle...

What is your motto?
"We Put the Spring in Sprinfield" – The Simpsons (Go Simpsonic with the Simpsons)
- I like to put the spring in the Springfield of life.

What is your life story?
"Limon y Sal" – Julieta Venegas (Limon y Sal)
- It means "Lemon and Salt," and the chorus goes: "I love you with lemon and salt, I love just exactly how you are," (but in Spanish, so it rhymes).

What do you think when you see the person you like?
Everyone Loves Ned Flanders – The Simpsons (Go Simpsonic with The Simpsons)
- Again, couldn't go wrong with The Simpson. I'm glad I finally imported that one to my iTunes.

The one thing you regret?
Cell Block Tango – Deidre Goodwin, Susan Misner, Catherine Zeta-Jones (Chicago)
- If I did what these girls did, I would probably regret it.

What scares you the most?
Plow King – The Simpsons (Go Simpsonic with the Simpsons)
- Yes, Barney Gumble as The Plow King scares me the most.

What will you post this as?
Good Things Happen – Dierks Bentley (Modern Day Drifter)
- Not that cool, but now you know why I titled this post thusly.

What do you do on your lunch break?

2008-11-12T14:09:00.007-07:00

What do you do on your lunch break?

These guys play Magic: The Gathering.

They left their lairs today and convened at Jason's Deli for a quick gaming break. Their table was covered with about 17 dice, a few large packs of cards, and, of course, lunch.

On their own, they were all average looking people, but get them together, and you can tell that in elementary school, they rocked the pogs, in middle school, they couldn't be separated from their SEGA Dreamcasts, and in high school, their Friday nights were spent in basements with lots of pizza and a Dungeon Master's Guide. And through it all, they've always carried around at least four dice, to aid with all their decision making and gaming needs.

Imagine what life would be like without these guys.

There would be no Dwight Schrute.

No Comic Book Guy.

And most importantly, no Seth Cohen.

So let the gaming continue!

What gets you through the day?

2008-11-09T21:38:00.005-07:00

What get's you through the day?

For this guy in my philosophy class, it's raw spaghetti noodles. And this isn't a singular occurrence, but every time I see him. He just sits there and munches away.

I think the best part is that he keeps a stash of them in his pocket. It's like in Napoleon Dynamite, where Napoleon puts his leftover "tots" into his cargo pocket.

Next time the noodles make an appearance, I think I'll take Napoleon's classmate Randy's approach and smash them. Or maybe I'll ask him to share.

It's Voting Day

2008-11-04T00:00:00.000-07:00

Here's a quote from my last post that I think we should all take into account as we cast our ballots today:

One company I really like is Seventh Generation. As a guiding rule, they think of the effect their products will have not only on the next generation, but up to seven generations and beyond. As we vote in this election, no matter what state we’re in, let us vote thinking of more than just the immediate effect our yes or no will have.

On that note, get out to the polls and have a happy voting day!

Vegetarians, Meat Eaters, and Proposition 8

2008-10-29T22:59:00.004-06:00

The China Study by T. Colin Campbell, PhD, and In Defense of Food by Michael Pollan are two books that have influenced my eating habits tremendously.

They have led me to eat less meat, try to exclude milk from my diet, read the labels on all the food I buy, and be more leery of USDA recommendations on what I should and should not include in my diet (the dairy and beef industries have deep pockets and lots of lobbyists in Washington).

You could say that I’m passionate about this. So passionate, in fact, that many of my friends have been informed over dinner about why I buy soy milk and why I study food labels in the grocery store. Most of them think I’m crazy and could care less about processed foods and controlling their meat intake. I’ve learned that I can’t force them to change, and I try to not let their disdain for my views cause me to change.

I do face some discrimination, but I can deal with that. One of my friends, not knowing I was trying out vegetarianism, told me that he couldn’t be friends with a vegetarian. I just smiled and nodded.

Now, imagine if legislation were passed that made eating meat illegal. Outback, Black Angus, and Ruth’s Chris would all be shut down over night if they didn’t change their menus. If the steakhouses somehow found a way to serve contraband beef, there would be extreme legal implications. The vegetarians would go mad, call their lawyers, and make sure not a single ounce of meat was served, no matter the cost to the shut-out businesses.

In this battle, who’s right, the vegetarians or the meat-eating majority? I don’t think it matters. It has often been said that any given man or woman is free to do whatever he or she wants until his or her hand hits the next person’s face. In other words, the meat eaters are free to eat meat, and the vegetarians are free to abstain, but neither group can force its views on any other group without infringing upon the freedoms of others.

You’re probably wondering where this post came from and where it’s going. In a roundabout way, it’s about Proposition 8 in California. There is a substantial group of people in California that are absolutely appalled that marriage is currently defined as between only a man and a woman. Their personal views have given them a broader definition of what marriage is, and they are fighting for legislation to make their view the legal view. From a human rights standpoint, they have a pretty good argument. But have they thought about what will happen to other people if the definition of marriage is changed and enforced? Honestly, I don’t think most of them care.

If Proposition 8 doesn’t pass, Born Again pastors, Mormon bishops, Catholic priests, and other religious leaders who are legally authorized to perform marriages in California could be forced to perform same-sex marriages, even if, for moral reasons, they oppose the practice. I can only imagine the legal battles and the detriment California’s religious organizations would face if they were to oppose performing gay marriages.

My views on food are shared by only a minority of people. It is one thing for me to talk about them with friends and family, but it’s another thing for me to use the law to make them everyone’s standard. I will admit that changes must be made to accommodate the freedoms of all, but voting no on Proposition 8 is not the way to do it. A subject this delicate needs delicate legislation that guarantees that my fist won’t hit my neighbor’s face, and vice versa.

One company I really like is Seventh Generation. As a guiding rule, they think of the effect their products will have not only on the next generation, but up to seven generations and beyond. As we vote in this election, no matter what state we’re in, let us vote thinking of more than just the immediate effect our yes or no will have.

And if you’re in California, vote YES on Proposition 8.

Going Postal

2008-10-27T06:00:00.000-06:00

My freshman year, I decided it would be a good prank to sign my friends up for unsolicited catalogs.

When I got home from my mission, a friend of mine needed a way to get back at a boy who had been treating her badly, so I got on the web with her and signed the boy up for O, The Oprah Magazine. To avoid any complications with billing, we clicked the "bill me later" option on the order.

He (who happened to be my EQP) got the magazine and the bill and revenge was sweet.

Recently, my friend Dede and I have been having a little war of our own. It started with some innocent e-mail spam attacks, which eventually led to full-blown mailbox war.

I think Dede was inspired by this story (the part about Jenny the Asian and my balding cranium). Whatever her inspiration, she couldn't resist signing me up to receive some information, via e-mail and real mail, from both The Hair Club and Bosley.

That naturally led to a counterattack. I got online, did a little searching, and found Catalogs.com.

After that, it was really very simple. I verified Dede's address with a friend of mine who lives above her and then signed her up for at least five catalogs. So far she has received one from Fabulous Furs.

This may have led to a retaliation from Dede. She denies it, but last week I received the holiday edition of Heifer International's catalog.

Officially, we have called a truce, but in war, can you really trust anyone? In the spirit of Halloween, I leave you with the following Harry Potter quote:

"Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain."

The Tanner Building Metaphor

2008-10-21T06:00:00.000-06:00

This is the Tanner Building at night.

Here's its hollow interior.

Cody's school is based out of the Tanner Building, and he goes to class there every day.

My school is based out of the Herald R. Clark Building, which is a much smaller, much less prestigious structure. Cody likes to point that out.

Yesterday, in defense of my school's building, I told Cody that his building is "showy, over the top, and hollow inside."

After I said that, we both paused for a minute, then looked at each other and started to laugh. We realized in that moment that the Tanner Building is the perfect life-size metaphor for BYU's accounting and business students, who can often be classified as "showy, over the top, and hollow inside."

101 Posts

2008-10-19T13:14:00.006-06:00

So, it's been just over a year and a half since robtmichael.blogspot.com came online. Over that time, I've blogged about a lot of stuff.

I've taken my loyal readers to:

Juice Parties
Giant Bananas
Eyebrow Waxings
Mayan Ruins
Disneyland
Ski Slopes
Nashville

And don't forget all the shows (and people) we've reviewed:

Vampire Weekend in Salt Lake
Heart, Cheap Trick, and Journey
Feist
John Mayer
Vampire Weekend in Honolulu
Rooney
Weezer!

The blog has brought about a lot of family unity:

And it has been a great outlet for some of my weirdest encounters:

It has been a good medium for revealing things I never planned on telling my parents.

And, lest we forget, the blog has shown the world how much I can look like Quasimodo in the following picture:

As the next picture proves:

The first 101 posts were a lot of fun. Just wait and see what the next 101 posts will reveal.

How Far Back Does This Go?

2008-10-15T06:00:00.001-06:00

Meet Robyn and her family.

Now, meet Nicole and her family.

Eight years ago, Robyn went on a study abroad to the Dominican Republic. While there, she met Nicole, a fellow member of her study abroad group.

After their semester together in the DR, they returned home and continued on with their lives, possibly with no thought of ever seeing each other again. Fate wasn't about to allow that, though, for a few years later they were brought together again in Guatemala at their husbands' mission reunion.

***

Just over four years ago, I entered the MTC. It was there that I met Cody, a fellow member of my MTC district.

Here's Cody in the MTC.

After nine weeks in the MTC, Cody and I parted ways. He went to Panama, and I went to Honduras.

We reconnected at BYU when we got back, and a year after that we were roommates. It wasn't until last night, however, that we discovered our cosmic brotherhood. (I'm finding all kinds of cosmic relatives lately.)

The realization occurred, as most of my realizations seem to do, at a burger joint. This time it wasn't at Sammy's, though, it was at Burger Supreme.

Over dinner, Cody mentioned that his sister had studied abroad twice. Being naturally curious, I asked him where. He told me she had gone to Spain and to the Dominican Republic. When he mentioned the DR, the cogs started rolling in my brain. I had to know when she had gone. Did she know my sister?

***

As I'm sure you've all guessed, Cody's sister is Nicole.

After I found out they studied abroad together, the following basically revealed itself.

Robyn and Nicole:

1. Studied Spanish at BYU.
2. Studied abroad in the Dominican Republic together.
3. Have blonde hair.
4. Married guys that served in the same mission under the same president.
5. Attended their husbands' mission reunion in Guatemala.
5. Enjoy fitness (Nicole teaches fitness classes and Robyn runs a fitness blog).
6. Have two kids, the oldest being a boy and the youngest being a girl.
7. Have brothers that go to BYU and are roommates.

And I don't even know if that's all of it.

The similarities between Robyn and Nicole are enough for me to believe that the two are cosmic twins, which means Cody and I are cosmic brothers.

What other cosmic things are there about this weird roommate/cosmic brother relationship? We spent the rest of the evening trying to find another connection. I should know by now, though, that things like this only appear...

When the moon is in the seventh house
And Jupiter aligns with Mars

First Rivers, now Nicole, Robyn, and Cody. Could this be the "dawning of the age of Aquarius?"

Columbus Day

2008-10-13T05:00:00.002-06:00

Today we celebrate the day three ships fell off the edge of the world and arrived in the Americas. Venezuelans call it Día de la Resistencia Indígena, or Day of Indigenous Resistence. In the United States of America, we call it Columbus Day.

In elementary school, it was a mythical day where we made construction paper recreations of the Niña, the Pinta, and the Santa María. In fact, that's one of my only memories of kindergarten in West Valley before the big move to California.

Now, the day just doesn't get much play. It should really be more than a Post Office holiday. I'll go to my classes today, but I won't be happy about it.

Oxymoron?

2008-10-11T06:00:00.000-06:00

On a recent trip to the store, I stumbled upon what I thought was an oxymoron.

That's right, it says "Real Margarine."

A quick Google search has enlightened me on the matter.

By FDA standards, margarine, a butter substitute, must contain 80% fat (in its various hydrogenated forms, of course). I guess the Nucoa brand hits the mark, whereas all those "Imitation Margarines" are merely buttery spreads.

Thanks, Nucoa, for keeping Margarine real and pure.

Rivers, My Cosmic Twin

2008-10-09T23:23:00.005-06:00

Rivers Cuomo and I are now more alike than ever. Cosmic twins, even!

When I was 18, I noticed a stark difference in my height when I shifted my weight from my right leg to my left. Curious about why, I went to the doctor, where I officially discovered that my left leg is 7 millimeters shorter than my right.

Rivers Cuomo, as he tells in the following video, found out when he was 12 that he had a similar condition.

Coincidence? I don't think so.

What's more?

In "Pork and Beans," one of Weezer's most recent hits, he said the following:

"They say I need some Rogaine to put in my hair."

The reason behind the line was confirmed at the Weezer concert on Tuesday night.

A few months ago, I was told similarly. Jenny, the Asian that cuts my hair, told me that "I need[ed] some [Nioxin] to put in my hair."

If only I had listened to the rest of my cosmic twin's "Pork and Beans" lyrics. The chorus goes:

I'mma do the things that I wanna do, I ain't got a thing to prove to you. I'll eat my candy with the pork and beans, excuse my manners if I make a scene. I ain't gonna wear the clothes that you like. I'm fine and dandy with the me inside. One look in the mirror and I'm tickled pink. I don't give a hoot about what you think.

Those are words to live by, especially when the Asian that cuts your hair tells you you're going bald and instigates a quarter-life crisis.

Thanks, cosmic twin Rivers.

Weezer in Salt Lake City

2008-10-08T01:43:00.005-06:00

Tonight I attended the Weezer show at the E-Center in Salt Lake (or is that West Valley?), thus fulfilling one of my most sought-after dreams.

I have been Weezer's biggest fan since 1995, when I discovered my sister Robyn's copy of Weezer's Blue Album. I don't know what inspired me to listen, but once I did, I became the only fifth grader at Wagner Elementary School that walked around singing "My Name is Jonas," "Surf Wax America," and "Say It Ain't So."

I have many a good memory set to the tune of Weezer. They came with me on plane rides, road trips, scout camps, sleepovers, and EFYs. Until I became a missionary, we were inseparable.

In fact, serving a mission was the only thing that could keep us apart. I told myself that Weezer would mean so much more to me if I allowed myself to go on a two-year Weezer fast.

Miraculously, I made it through the self-imposed abstinence.

After my two-year Weezer fast, I symbolically introduced Weezer back into my life. Their Blue Album was the first of my music collection I listened to after getting back to California. I think my parents were a little shocked at how quickly Weezer resurfaced in my life. The truth is, it had never been too far gone.

Now, tonight, a little over two years after ending my Weezer fast, I was privileged to attend a Weezer show.

The night started out with some unknown opening band. That band was followed by Angels and Airwaves, which was started by Tom DeLonge, of Blink 182 and Box Car Racer fame.

Seeing Angels and Airwaves and hearing Tom's voice again made me really wish I had seen Blink 182 in high school, while they were still around. Can you say reunion tour? I'm there!

After Angels and Airwaves came the Weez. I could hardly believe my eyes when Rivers, Pat, Brian, and Scott walked out on the stage. Even Karl was there. When they walked out, my life became complete. Really, it was like reconnecting with old friends. I mean, I've dreamt about hanging out with them before.

The show was awesome. Here are some highlights.

I caught Rivers just as he was getting off of the trampoline.

Yes, that's a person in a wheelchair AND crowd surfing.

The Weezer hootenanny on stage.

The classic Weezer "=\/\/=" up on the screen at the end of the show.

Man, I love Weezer.

Next post: A discussion of the uncanny similarities between Rivers and me.

Stay tuned!

Postal Proselytization

2008-10-06T23:12:00.008-06:00

I don't know what church or group it's coming from, but for some time now my apartment has been subject to some very entertaining postal proselytization. (Yes, I know I made proselytization up.)

I guess very entertaining isn't the best way to describe its entertainment value. It's about as entertaining as Saturday afternoon TV.

The mailers actually contain some pretty wordy epistles. I've never taken the time to read them, but I'm sure if I was tired enough I'd chuckle at the message. I think they're either soliciting money or my soul (or both).

What makes the mail so entertaining are the little gifts that come with each epistle/soul-solicitation. Yesterday, this came in the mail.

The scene at the top of the page contains the following dialogue:

Jesus:
"Will you give a few minutes of your time to get saved?"

O. Foolish Man:
"I can't do it. I'm sorry, Jesus...I'm too busy."

The scene on the bottom of the page goes like this:

O. Foolish Man:
"Oh horrors! Wait! I didn't expect you so soon I'm not ready to die. Give me time to repent and get ready for Eternity."

Death:
"I can't do it. I'm too busy. Come on, I've got lots of others to call on tonight."

Naturally, I love the irony between O. Foolish Man's response to Jesus in the first scene and Death's response to O. Foolish Man in the second.

More than that, however, I like how Jesus only asks for a "few minutes of your time to get saved." A few minutes, you say? A quick Google search has defined a few as "being more than one but indefinitely small in number."

O. Foolish Man must be really, really, indefinitely busy, if he can't pull himself away from that computer-generated sales chart for just a few minutes. If only he could see the second scene. Then he'd really regret that choice.

Okay, I've spent far more time looking at and analyzing those dialogues then I thought I would when I originally opened the epistle. And this is nowhere near as entertaining as something else they sent us.

Upon opening an earlier epistle, I found a piece of cloth with a heart in the middle and a few printed sentences off to one side. The cloth read:

Print your name and Jesus' name inside this heart and carry this Prayer Cloth inside your clothing until bed time. Further instructions are in our letter...

I wasn't about to write my name in that heart and carry the cloth around with me all day until bed time. And I wasn't about to find further instructions in their letter. So I improvised a little and this is what I came up with.

I did write Jesus' name in the heart, but instead of my own name, I wrote Cody's. And I knew that carrying the heart around all day was out of the question for both Cody and me, so I sneaked the cloth into Cody's pillow. I figured, he's an accounting student and could use whatever blessings the clandestine cloth had to offer.

After waiting longer than I wanted for him to discover the cloth, I asked him to check his pillow for any foreign objects. He pulled out the cloth, and we both had a great laugh. He then put the cloth back in his pillow, and it's been there 'til tonight.

It must be working for him!

Postal proselytization sure beats credit card offers.

The Infamous All-Nighter

2008-09-30T06:00:00.000-06:00

Sometimes I feel like Spongebob Squarepants in this episode:

Procrastination

I don't actually expect you to spend 10 minutes watching the episode, but if you were to watch it, you would see what I was doing on Sunday night and Monday morning and afternoon.

Unlike Spongebob's, the essay I had to write was fairly complex. And it took me at least 16 hours. But it's done. And it may have been the last school-related all-nighter I'll make myself pull as a college student (undergrad).

Quote of the Day

2008-09-29T22:00:00.005-06:00

“This is a huge cow patty with a piece of marshmallow stuck in the middle of it and I am not going to eat that cow patty.”

Representative Paul Broun, Republican of Georgia, as quoted in the New York Times.

The Tortoise and the Hare

2008-09-23T08:00:00.000-06:00

This year, the weather has seemed to change by the calendar. Yesterday was the first day of fall, and it rained. And you know what I have to say to that? Bring it on. Last winter was so long, that I didn't even get used to warm, summer weather. It snowed in June, for goodness' sake.

Anyway, despite the cold air last night, Cody and I went out for an evening run. I guess I should qualify that better. Cody went for a run, and I went for a sprint.

When we were in Hawaii, I was reminded on a daily basis how much farther he can walk in one step than I can. The length of his stride and lack of length in my own was especially apparent on our hike to and from Hanauma Bay.

Last night's run was about two miles. I was able to keep up with him for the first half. On the second leg, however, he really put some distance between us.

Then, in true "The Tortoise and the Hare" form, Cody stopped to take a nap (I mean walk) while I continued at my pace for the rest of the run.

Naturally, I thought I had the race in the bag. (I've always been a believer in Aesop's morals.) Then, one block from home, I heard a runner approaching from behind. Cody, wanting to dispell all belief in Aesop's fables, beat me, the tortoise, in the last Provo block of the race.

The only thing keeping the original fable alive is the dissimilarity between Cody and the hare, and myself and the tortoise. Tonight's race was more like a race between a giraffe and a donkey. A quick Google search has revealed that a giraffe's top speed is about 37 miles per hour. Another quick Google search has found that nobody cares how fast a donkey can run.

The "Shark" Card

2008-09-21T20:21:00.010-06:00

A while back, I visited one of my favorite blogs and stumbled upon a competition of sorts.

In short, all I had to do to "win" was be one of the first 100 people to leave a comment on this post. I was number 43!

Winning entailed receiving a postcard in the mail from the blogger. There were three postcard options, and we (the first 100) got to choose which one we wanted. You can read that post if you're really interested in the nitty-gritty.

After I won, I checked the mail like the old lady from the BYU classic, The Mailbox, anxiously awaiting the arrival of my free postcard.

When my personalized postcard finally came, I jumped like a missionary getting his travel plans in the MTC.

Here's what Mr. Lewis sent me.

The text reads:

Hey, Michael-

Thanks for reading my blog. Here's your free postcard to pay you back for the time you've wasted or will hopefully continue to waste on my blog. Good call on the "shark" card. Most people chose the polar bear, but this one's my favorite. You're obviously smarter than most people...as am I.

Later,
-Shane Lewis

I make a point to read the above postcard text out loud to Cody on a nightly basis. In the beginning, it was out of excitement, but now it's out of my sheer desire to annoy!

(Here he is, studying to earn his Home and Family Living minor.)

The tables have turned, though, and it's now Cody who reads the card to me. Except, I think it's more like a recitation than a reading. We've both got it memorized.

My cousin (and others) was (were) right, it is great to get good mail.

Thanks, stlewis.blogspot.com, for livening up my nightly routine.

Again, with the wallet!

2008-09-17T00:06:00.002-06:00

Some of you may remember this tragic day of 10 months ago.

It happened again today, only this time it was inside a folder I haven't opened since Sunday. How it got there, I'll never know.

If you ever see this wallet lying around, please let me know. It will save me hours of stress/kicking myself in the pants for forgetting where I left it.

Don't Go Anywhere Without a Camera

2008-09-14T22:23:00.011-06:00

(Warning, this is a marathon post.)

It's been quite a weekend.

To kick it off, UCLA came to BYU on Saturday and got shut out, with the Cougs winning, 59-0 (their worst loss in 79 years)! Take that, Bruins.

As the icing on the cake, one of my favorite bands (Rooney) came to Spoon Me (a frozen yogurt shop) in Provo.

Spoon Me

+

Rooney

In Provo!

Rooney and I have been friends since 2003, when they released their first album.

Now, five years and one album later, I've finally seen them live. And they only charged $3 at the door.

I really don't know how Spoon Me, a frozen yogurt shop, scored Rooney. And don't ask me how the concert was financed. All I can do is thank my lucky stars that I was informed, and that I was there.

In fact, we got there earlier than most fans to make sure we got optimum placement in front of the stage. The only "people" there with us at 5:45 PM when we arrived to wait (just under four hours before Rooney went on) were FRESHMEN, and we got to stand amid them ALL NIGHT LONG.

At least our placement in front of the stage was optimum.

I was actually right at Robert Schwartzman's feet.

This is Robert Schwartzman.

You may recognize him from The Princess Diaries. He's also the lead vocalist in Rooney. I think he sounds a little like David Cassidy when he sings.

That night, he kicked my elbow and stepped on my hand several times. To make up for it, he shook my hand at the end of the show. I was going for a high five, but genuinely accepted the shake.

As you could probably guess, the freshmen were the only drawback of the night. We did our best to put up with their screams, and their shouts, and their mindless chatter during the two openers' performances. Luckily, once Rooney got on stage the mindless chatter went away. They couldn't "chatter," 'cause they were too busy producing their constant, little-girl-like screaming.

My ears were introduced to new frequencies and decibels of screaming yesterday. I felt like I was at a Miley Cyrus/Hannah Montana concert, and that all of the Jonas Brothers had just walked on stage to sing a surprise song, and that the song was introduced by Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom (talk about a tween dream come true). That's how bad the screaming was.

I regained full hearing sometime Sunday afternoon. It was worth the temporary loss.

On Sunday, Cody and I team taught Sunday School. Team teaching is the best thing that's ever happened to the Sunday School program, and I look forward to much more of it through the duration of my new calling.

After Church, things were pretty quiet...until this walked by.

He (or she) turned heads all over the street.

The creature must be going out for The Quill and the Sword.

I find it most disturbing that after the sighting, it disappeared into an apartment building across the street from mine. Who are these people?

After Doña Sebastiana walked by, things calmed down for a while.

Life got exciting again at 7:30 PM, when we celebrated my friend Cory's birth. Happy Birthday, Cory!

His mom sent him some masks to celebrate with. We put them to full use.

Meet my new roommate, Danny. He's the unmasked one...or is it the one with the face on his shoulder?

If there's anything that will mold this post into a cohesive piece, I think it would be the title: "Don't Go Anywhere Without a Camera." You never know what you'll miss.

Back to School

2008-09-13T07:00:00.002-06:00

I know school started about two weeks ago, but the start of the new semester coincided perfectly with the crashing of my computer.

The computer spent a week in the "shop," where computer "technicians" racked up countless (and expensive) hours "fixing" my computer's "issues." (All those quotation marks remind me of Chris Farley on SNL's "Weekend Update.")

The computer is now in working order, but missing everything but my music, for which I had to pay one arm and one leg to save.

Now, with two missing appendages, I'm returning to true desktop, push-button publishing. Without a right arm, I'll never be fully accepted in India, and typing will take much longer, but I'll manage. Thanks, Cougar Computer, for wholeheartedly ripping me off.

Okay. I've got that out of my system and can move on to something that relates better to this post's title, "Back to School."

School started two weeks ago and I'm finally taking all the GEs I pushed aside when I decided as a freshman (five years ago) that I wanted to jump right into my major courses.

Naturally, I managed to knock out most of my GEs along the way, but I saved the true 100 level courses for this, my senior year. What courses, you ask? Biology 100 and Physical Science 100, the two most dreaded classes in the GE catalog.

Besides those challenging courses, I'm taking Latin American Studies 495 (my senior seminar), Philosophy 201 (GE/for my minor), and Religion 351 (World Religions in Light of the Restored Gospel).

By the end of the semester, I'll be 15 credits closer to graduating, and as my mother likes to point out, holding up a sign on a street corner that says, "Will Think for Food."

At least, that's what she says Uncle Alan told his son-in-law about majoring in Philosophy. I'll be okay, though, since I'm only minoring in it. My major is Latin American Studies, which is so much more viable. I like to tell people I'm studying to be a Mexican.

(Pancho Villa a.k.a. Pancho Villa, Friend of the Mormons. I bet you didn't know that!)

The more I think about it, the more I realize that the combination of Latin American Studies and Philosophy is going to make for a much more idiosyncratic sign. It will say something like "Will Think in Spanish for Food" or "Will Describe World Poverty and Hunger for Food."

That last one will mean so much more to me, for I, myself, will be starving. How existential.

Watch out, Ghandi.

Roll over, Henry David Thoreau.

Okay, I actually love my major and my minor, and that's why I chose them. Some other time I can blog about my big plans for after graduation. Right now, I just need to "work hard and get good grades," as my father reminds me every time I speak with him (literally). That will secure my graduation and future success. At least it better, 'cause that's what they've been feeding me since the seventh grade.

The first day of school, which was 2 September, Cody (my roommate) and I decided to take some back to school pictures. He's starting his junior core in the accounting program and had to wear a suit on the first day.

I decided to really contrast his style with my Ed Hardy skull tattoo shoes. I really turn heads when I wear them on campus. I thought it was a great way to portray the differences in our majors.

In my defense, I was carrying a copy of the New York Times under my arm. That's something we Latin American Studies majors like to do.

Here's one more interesting contrast between me and Cody.

September 11, 2001

2008-09-11T12:00:00.000-06:00

I'll still never forget it. Sometimes I just wish I'd remember it more often.

They're Back

2008-09-09T10:26:00.003-06:00

When the white tent goes up in Brigham Square, you know The Quill and the Sword is looking for fresh blood, I mean, new members.

And those initiates can hardly imagine what awaits them.

Their lives will be full of midnight runs across campus, wielding swords, maces, etc. They will start using terms like "hence" and "oft" more frequently in regular speech. And when they plan their weddings, only the best of the medieval reenactments will suffice.

All the while, the rest of us will look on and wonder why they were born in this century in this country and go to this school. They would have been much better of at Salamanca or Oxford or Hogwarts...

Lucha Libre @ Provo City Hall

2008-09-07T13:19:00.003-06:00

There are many ways to desecrate City Hall. Provo has chosen to do it through the semi-secret world of the Mexican Lucha Libre.

Before, when I thought of Lucha Libre, I thought of Jack Black, Jared Hess, and Nacho Libre.

After the luchas (fights) that went down at City Hall the other night, Nacho Libre will now take second place in my thought process when Mexican pro wrestling is mentioned.

The luchas went down as part of Provo's Festival Latinoamericano. It was gloriously trashy, and the moves were farther from believable than normal.

In the last picture, please notice the tattoo of Utah on the underdog's elbow. Way to represent!

Thank you, Provo, for this cultural treat. City Hall will never be the same.

It's a Cast Aluminum Dream Come True

2008-08-28T05:58:00.006-06:00

People sell the strangest things in the strangest places.

What will they bring to the parking lot next?

Nervous and Snappy

2008-08-25T05:00:00.000-06:00

For those of you that know me, I get pretty hard to be around when I'm nervous. Being nervous (and anxious) makes me snappy.

Four years ago today marks the anniversary of the most nervous time of my life. It marks the day I entered the MTC.

I turned my mission papers in sometime in late June. I received my call in Vegas.

Okay, I didn't really receive it in Vegas. Robyn got married on July 3, 2004. On July 9, we all went up to her open house in Utah. I got my call in the mail that morning, and thought it would be great to open it up with the whole family once we were together.

I loaded into the car with my mom and dad and headed out for Utah with my unopened call on the seat next to me.

Seeing it there was hard, and for the first six hours, I really thought I could make it all the way without breaking. I was pretty nervous that day, too, so I'm sure I was snapping at anything and everything that came from the front seats.

By the time we reached Vegas, I was on the verge of breaking. I made a quick plan in my head, and conference called my sisters. I actually had to call one of them and have her call the other. It worked.

Driving north on I-15, with my sisters on the phone, and my parents in the front seats, I opened my call (in Vegas). From the moment I read Honduras Tegucigalpa Mission, I knew it was right.

Six weeks later I was entering the MTC. I had had a whirlwind weekend, spent with family from out-of-town and filled with many goodbyes. We flew out of Orange County, or "The OC" as I had come to know it, on Tuesday, August 24, 2004. It was a very rough goodbye. Good thing I didn't know then that I would be saying goodbye to the house I grew up in two years later.

The morning I entered the MTC, we went to the Little America Hotel's breakfast buffet. I normally loved eating there, but that day, I could barely even handle the orange juice.

Did I mention that one of my new suitcases ripped that morning? Right on the seam.

Anyway, I made it to the MTC, they shuffled us in, we did the little orientation thing with the family, took lots of pictures, cried, said goodbye for two years, and took more pictures. When that was over, I walked out one door, and my family walked out the way they came in.

As soon as I exited, I found that my entire day was scheduled for me for the next two months. I loved the MTC. By the end I was ready to leave, for sure, but I loved the time I had there.

My district was great. They made the experience bearable. It was there that I met Cody, my current roommate.

Hopefully today will be filled with reminiscing, nostalgia, and celebrating (especially the fact that I don't ever have to go back)! It was the time of my life, but, as The Byrds say, "To everything...there is a season." I guess the bible says that, too.

Onward and upward!

Education Week: Hide Your Women and Children, It's Every Man For Himself

2008-08-19T21:00:00.000-06:00

This week, people from all over the country (and world, so they say) have flocked to BYU for what they consider the "BYU Experience." They stay in Provo, some even renting student housing, attend classes, and reminisce about the good old days, when they were real students at the Y. It's called Education Week.

The university bills it as an inspirational, uplifting, and even spiritual time. They talk about how "the glory of God is intelligence, or, in other words, light and truth" (D&C 93:36). And then they pack people into classrooms and fill their brains with ways to better store their food and how to fully balance soccer, dance, work, and Church.

Now don't get me wrong. I believe that scripture wholeheartedly, and food storage, soccer, dance, work, and Church are just as important to me as they are to the next guy. I'm sure some people even walk away better off on Friday than they were when their week started. I just wish these seekers of knowledge would go somewhere else for their week-long adventure. Maybe BYU-Hawaii. It's way better than Provo, trust me. What about BYU-Idaho? It's got a more stringent dress code!

No, they come here. Every year.

I'm sure they have a great time. But do they ever think of the anguish they cause the real students? I doubt it. They go around like they own the place, treating anyone and everyone over 18 and under 30 like obstacles in their learning process.

This morning, for example, I was on my way to work when I experienced first hand the wrath that is Education Week at BYU.

First of all, it was 7:30 AM and campus was already bustling with lone paraplegics with oxygen tanks and lost teenagers, all with the ever present Education Week badges around their necks. I was riding my bike through campus, and just knew that something foreboding was in my near future. I could feel it in the Education Week air.

I parked my bike, walked into the Wilk, bought my usual bottle of water and Clif bar, called my mom on the phone, and headed to the elevator to go to my office and print off some stuff before my 8:00 AM meeting.

As I walked to the elevator, I told my mom how much I hated Education Week and the 20,000 people that don't belong but think they do. I pushed the button for the elevator, waited for a while, then the door opened.

Three people were inside, a man and two women. The man had grey hair, was wearing a blue collared shirt and a nondescript tie. I waited for two or three seconds to see if anyone was going to get off, and when no one did, I proceeded to enter.

The three people inside were standing apart from each other on three opposite walls, forcing me to stand in the middle. The door started to shut, and I reached over to push the button for the fifth floor.

Before I could hit the button, and before I knew what was happening, the crazy, SOB, old man standing behind me, shoved me to one side, walked out of the elevator, turned around, and in a snarling voice, that sounded in my mind like a cross between Uncle Arthur from Bewitched and Satan, snidely blurted, "Excuse me," and then walked away.

I was dumbfounded.

I couldn't believe what had happened.

An old man, for no apparent reason, had shoved me. It wasn't a push, it was a shove.

I couldn't even react.

Enraged and confused, I shouted back at him, but received no reception. Was he deaf? Does he suffer with anger management issues? Is he a last word freak? I'll never know.

In hindsight, I wish I had exited the elevator and provoked him to the point of doing something that would get him arrested and cause eternal embarrassment to his wife and kids. I could've gotten him permanently banned from BYU, never to plague the campus again.

51 weeks a year, 30,000 emerging adults, as social scientists now label us, manage to coexist peacefully, never, ever shoving one another, unless it's in jest. Shoving is something they do at the University of Utah, before and after they say "excuse me."

This idiot comes here for one week, and his first day at 7:30 AM, before classes have even begun, he's shoving people. I'm sure I'm not the only one. I'm looking to organize a class action suit against the guy. I can only imagine how many weeks he's already ruined for other people. And I'm sure he's disrupted at least 2/3 of his classes, if he even goes to class. He probably just wanders the campus, looking for people he can pick on.

There's only one thing that could possibly be worse than Education Week, and that's Women's Conference. Luckily that only lasts for a few days.

(Maybe I'll take this approach next year.)

This week, I've still got three or four days to take in, and then I have to deal with all the freshmen and their parents next week. Just kill me now, I can't take anymore. If anything happens tomorrow, so help me...

Did I forget to mention that later today, I went down the elevator to the second floor, only to run into my newest arch nemesis, the old man in the blue shirt? We mad dogged each other, I thought about approaching him and telling him all the clever things I had thought about all day that I should've said when it happened.

I didn't, though.

I sure hope he feels bad.

Look Who's On Blogger

2008-08-12T10:00:00.000-06:00

I signed in to blogger, and thought it was a little strange that my sister and my mom were two of the three "Top Recommendations" on my sign-in page! Weird. Too bad my other sister wasn't on there, too.

Famous in the world of blogging.

Hawaii: Day Six (The Swap Meet and Pearl Harbor)

2008-08-03T10:00:00.000-06:00

Saturday, Cody and I left Laie at about 10:30 AM and headed to the swap meet at the Aloha Stadium near Honolulu and Pearl Harbor. We got in for free, thanks to a couple of coupons we got in a magazine from the car rental company.

Actually, that magazine was supposed to be a map book, but instead of coherent maps, it was filled with advertisements and coupons. It didn't help us with navigating the island, but it did save us four dollars at the swap meet.

The swap meet itself was full of trinkets, trash, and some crazy t-shirts. I bought some wasabi peas and some li hing powder for my roommate.

Li hing powder is the stuff they put on sour candy to make it sour. I thought the drug dogs at the airport were gonna find it and think I was carrying something illicit back to the mainland. I have since made it back to the mainland, and was not arrested upon landing. At least I wasn't flying home from Thailand. Another Broke Down Palace situation averted.

After the swap meet, we meandered through the highways and byways of Honolulu, eventually finding our way to the Pearl Harbor Memorial. It actually wasn't that hard to find.

We arrived around 2:15 PM, making it in time for the last tour of the day at 3:00 PM. Before the tour, we were able to wander the museum and read up on the events of and leading up to December 7, 1941. It was very eyeopening to see the faces and personal effects of those that lost their lives that day. They even had letters some of them sent to their families just a few weeks before the attack.

Before we went over to the memorial, we watched a documentary. It really prepared us for what we were about to do.

One thing that caught me off guard was how many Japanese tourists were there. Then, as I got to thinking about it, I realized that if I were in Hiroshima or Nagasaki, I would want to visit their peace memorials and pay my respects to those who lost their lives there.

After we left the theater, we were asked to maintain silence. We walked out onto a dock, boarded a ferry, and went over to the memorial. 1,177 USS Arizona crew members died that fateful day. Many of them are still buried in the hull of that sunken ship.

I was glad to honor their memory on Saturday at the Pearl Harbor Memorial.

Brokedown Palace

2008-08-03T09:59:00.000-06:00

For those of you who don't know, Brokedown Palace is about two girls that travel to Thailand and through a series of misfortunate events get drugs snuck into their baggage, get caught, and end up in a Thai prison.

It's one of the few movies that makes me not want to travel...especially to Thailand.

Hawaii: Day Five (Snorkeling at Hanauma Bay)

2008-08-02T10:00:00.000-06:00

Friday morning, Cody and I left Laie early to try and beat the crowd that was bound to be at Hanauma Bay, a popular snorkeling location on Oahu. We were on the road by 8:00 AM and made it to the Hanauma Bay area by about 9:30 AM.

(I haven't mentioned yet that a lot of our travel was facilitated by a borrowed GPS navigation system. Thanks, Brittany.)

As we approached the entrance to the parking lot, we saw lots of cones and signs that said the parking lot was full. After debating what to do, we decided to park the car in a Foodland parking lot at the bottom of the hill, about a mile away from the entrance.

In the parking lot, we grabbed the bare essentials, including our snorkel gear, and backtracked up the hill to the entrance. Cody is about six or seven inches taller than I am, and his stride shows it, especially when we're going up hill at his tall-man pace.

Walking at his speed brought us to the entrance rather quickly. When we got there, this view was waiting for us.

It's just so amazing to me that so much natural beauty can be packed into one place.

As visitors (and non-Hawaiians), we had to pay a five dollar admission fee and watch a nine minute orientation video. Once that was over, we were let loose, free to snorkel our little hearts out.

To avoid theft, which is unfortunately common in the islands (as if charging $8.69 for a meal at McDonald's isn't enough), we didn't bring our cameras. Therefore, Google will supply my experience with pictures.

The Convict Tang

The Spectacled Parrotfish--we saw lots of different parrotfish.

The Trumpetfish (Yellow)

The Shortbodied Blenny

Sea Urchins

The Endangered Green Sea Turtle

I didn't see any sea turtles at Hanauma, but Cody did.

After Hanauma Bay, we went around the island, past the Dole Plantation, and into Haleiwa for more shave ice at Matsumoto's.

Fully refreshed by our frozen treats, we decided to make a stop at "Turtle Beach" for some more snorkeling and sea turtleing.

At "Turtle Beach", there is always someone there making sure no one handles, harasses, or teases the turtles. While I was swimming with them, the tide and the reef pushed me into a spot where I couldn't move easily. The sea turtles were on one side of me and the shallow reef was on my other side. I could've easily stood up to get out, but the orientation video at Hanauma Bay had informed me of how inappropriate standing on a reef is. Anyway, the situation was very precarious. I was "between sea turtles and a hard place."

Finally, I decided to stand up. As I stood up, I heard the "wretched keeper of the turtles" whistling at me. Cody said she had been whistling at me for some time, but my ears had been underwater. I'm sure her incessant whistling bothers the sea life. When I heard her whistle blowing, I decided to pretend I didn't hear her and got back into the water.

I went about, doing my thing for a few more minutes, and then decided to get out. When I exited the water, the "wretched keeper of the turtles" met me on shore and informed me that I had been too close to her precious animals.

Now, I'm all about not touching the turtles. They're covered in barnacles and sea-diseases, I'm sure. The whole time I was too close to them was spent trying to distance myself from them. The "wretched keeper" didn't know that, and I'm sure that if I had drowned while trying to not harm nature, she would have fished my body out, chopped it up, roasted it, and hand-fed me to her turtles.

Anyway, next time you visit "Turtle Beach," remember that the turtles are more important than you.

The trick is to find the turtles that are farther out and swim with them. She will never know!

Robyn Turns 28!

2008-08-01T10:01:00.001-06:00

So, I know this is a little late, but we'll pretend that it just took a long time to post since I am on an island in the middle of the ocean.

Being that Robyn is now 28, here are some of my favorite (and not recently published) memories of her.

1. We used to entertain each other playing made-up games on road trips when we were kids. I remember we played one game where we took turns watching the second hand on a watch and seeing who could keep time with it the best.

2. Up at Camperworld, we would sit down at grandma Roush's keyboard and sing all the duets it had programmed into it. We especially loved songs like "Arthur's Theme" and "The Way We Were." Sometimes we would sing them well, but most of the time we were just having (and making) fun.

3. When Robyn broke her leg, she was in a wheelchair for a while. I loved that wheelchair. I would take it into the backyard and race it around the house for hours.

4. When I was in the first grade, Robyn dressed up as a strawberry for Halloween. While doing something in the front yard, she ripped a hole in her green tights. She was hysterical, and Kimberly was making fun of her. I am so glad we have that on home video. Classic Robyn.

5. In the seventh or eighth grade, Robyn kissed a boy named Ray Ramirez. I loved to tease her about her latin lover.

6. Around the same time as her latin lover, or maybe a little later, Robyn and Stephanie (and possibly some other girls) sang the Bette Midler version of "Miss Otis Regrets" at a Placentia Recreation Center competition. They placed, but lost to a poor rendition of Michael Jackson's "Thriller," which only won because so many people were in it. Robyn and Stephanie were the real winners.

7. Growing up, I always felt like I was friends with all of Robyn's friends, which I didn't mind. I mean, they were all cheer leaders.

8. When Robyn was in Japan, we decided to do a little make-over of her room to welcome her home. We sanded down her dresser and replaced its hardware, painted her walls, put up some chair-rail wallpaper, and bought her some new bed linens and pillows. It was a good make-over, if you ask me.

9. Speaking of Japan, I wanted to go there so badly when I was little. My dad had gone there, and I thought it was the coolest. When Robyn won a scholarship to be an exchange student there, I was positive that I would win one too when I was her age. Unfortunately, when that time came around, my dad worked for Honda, and the scholarship had been for children of Nissan employees. Anyway, I have always been inspired by Robyn's adventurous spirit and have tried to follow in her footsteps. I'll make it to Japan someday...

10. Robyn and her high school friends used to always talk about an alien or something. I'm still not sure what they were referring to, but they would drive by it at night. I think it was a shape in a storefront window or something. I still wonder about that alien, and every time I'm driving through California at night, I just wish that I knew where it was so I could see it.

11. My freshman year of college, Robyn and I got to spend a lot of time together. She made me dinner, I bought her groceries with my meal plan, and we shared a car. She had it for the most part, but whenever I asked, she always let me borrow it. What a good sister.

12. When she was on her mission, I wrote her once. In that letter, I apologized for not writing her and told her that I would write her more often... When I was on my mission, she wrote me every week. I wish I could go back and write her, 'cause now I know how important those letters are. I'm glad she wrote me 100 times more than I wrote her on her mission.

Those are some random memories. If I was at my computer at home, I'd have a great picture to add to this. I'm not at home, though, so I'm gonna use this one from a trip we took to California in early 2007.

13. Robyn and I loved to go running with Kimberly when we visited her in California. We would leave the perpetual winter of Utah behind and embrace the sunshine in the south. On this particular running trip, Robyn had to pee really bad, so she ran up and over a hill right next to the sidewalk to urinate. I watched her run up the hill, but had to turn my head when she started pulling off her shorts before she was completely out of view.

I had to end it with something embarrassing!

Happy Birthday, Robyn.

Hawaii: Day Four (The Polynesian Cultural Center)

2008-08-01T10:00:00.000-06:00

Yesterday was spent almost entirely at the Polynesian Cultural Center (PCC).

Founded in 1963 by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, the PCC is the place to be here on the island of Oahu. In one day, you can travel Disneyland-style to Hawaii, Aoteaora (New Zealand), Samoa, Tonga, Tahiti, and Fiji. Let me tell you, it was magical!

Cody and I spent the day traveling through the different island nations. When the sun went down, we went to the night show, where each island's dances and stories are showcased on stage. It's the only place to see full-fledged Polynesian dancing at its best.

Cody goes to school with all the kids that work there, so we definitely got hooked up . We got into the "park" for $5 and saw the night show for $10, for a total savings of $71. Thanks, Art.

While I was there, I had a few Sammy's experiences. I ran into two mission buddies and Haliaka, a girl I worked with last Fall at Catering.

Another Sammy's experience.

Cody playing with "poi balls" in Aotearoa

My dear friends, Lena, Alexandria, and Des performing in Aotearoa

Two Samoans (offering comic relief) up a tree in the Samoan Village

Me playing a spear game in the Tongan Village

The night show was great. You never really get to see Polynesians doing their thing in full force, so this was great.

A few highlights.

I've been forced to give up the thumbs-up in Hawaii. In its place, the "shaka."

Hang loose!

Hawaii: Day Three (Food and Fun)

2008-07-31T13:47:00.014-06:00

Cody had class yesterday until about 2:00 PM, so until then I was on my own. Of course, I updated the blog, and then I ventured out to take some pictures.

First stop, the beautiful BYU-Hawaii Campus.

Next, I ventured over to the temple, which is right next to BYU-Hawaii. I thought I would show you all some views of the temple you'd never see unless you were here. At least, I know I've only seen it from one angle.

I had to throw a self-portrait in!

Next was Hukilau, a favorite among the college kids.

After that, I went and got some food at the local L&L. By then, Cody was done with class, so we rendezvoused at his place and headed out on the day's activities. Our first destination was Haleiwa, but that didn't stop us from stopping along the way to take some pics and take in the sights.

This is Kahuku, where Jack Johnson went to high school. His music dominates the radio here in Hawaii.

The Sugar Mill, made famous by Jack Johnson's song, "Mudfootball."

Waimea Beach

People jumping off a rock at Waimea Beach

Up the road from Waimea, we found a beach where sea turtles hang out and catch rays. We'll definitely be going back there for some snorkeling and sea turtleing.

These are my new friends, Mike and Lena. Mike's from Kansas, Lena's from New Zealand.

My first night here, I ate dinner with people from the following places: Australia (born in New Zealand), Arizona, New Zealand, Japan, Malaysia, Tennessee, Missouri, and probably a few other places I don't remember. BYU-Hawaii's very diverse.

Next stop was the north shore town of Haleiwa and Matusmoto's Shave Ice, world famous in the world of shave ice. Tom Hanks, Adam Sandler, and, of course, Jack Johnson have visited and subsequently had their pictures placed on the wall.

Here's one more picture for the wall, Matsumoto's!

Have you ever seen such a complicated procedure. Leave it to the Japanese to make an efficient shave ice shop.

After Haleiwa, we headed to the Dole Plantation.

My whole life, I thought I could only get Dole Whip at Disneyland. Yesterday, my reality was put in check when I found a second place on the planet to purchase the delightful treat. I should've known. You're a sly businessman, Mr. Dole!

I was almost as excited to get this as I was when I found out Vampire Weekend was playing in Hawaii.

After the plantation, we headed into Waikiki. Yesterday was the Cheesecake Factory's 30th anniversary, and to celebrate, all of their cheesecake was only $1.50. I hope my friends in the mainland took advantage of the boon that is cheap cheesecake from the Cheescake Factory. The food, unfortunately, was regularly priced.

Oh, so delicious.

And now, the craziness that is Waikiki at night.

Today we're going to the Polynesian Cultural Center, the Disneyland of Hawaii. I'll let you know how it goes tomorrow.

Aloha!

Hawaii: Day Two (North Shore and Vampire Weekend)

2008-07-30T14:20:00.007-06:00

We left campus yesterday around noon and headed to the beautiful North Shore.

During the winter, surfers from around the world flock here to take advantage of the massive surf, or "wild water," as they call it. Between October and February, the shore might greet you with something like this.

It reminds me of one of my favorite quotes from the movie Orange County: "Lonny always said he wanted to die eating foam in a massive wipe out." In the movie, Lonny's wish came true.

Luckily, during the summer, the waves disappear (almost), making the north shore just another ideal spot for swimming, snorkeling, and catching some rays, all of which I did yesterday.

Before we hit the beach we stopped at a little shrimp shack in Kahuku. Kahuku is where Cody's dad went to high school. The musician Jack Johnson also went there. If he wasn't on tour in the mainland, I just know I would've seen him.

Romy's Kahuku Prawns and Shrimp, Inc.

The line was really long, and naturally I was the last one in it. Don't you hate being the end of the long line? You almost wish that people would keep flocking in just so you don't have to be the only one to endure it.

Next was Sunset Beach.

Just ignore the really white guy standing next to the guy that's been in Hawaii for five weeks.

Reality check.

After hitting two or three beaches, we went to the Turtle Bay resort. The beach there is public access. The pool, however, is for registered guests only. We went to the pool, but as we were trying to remain inconspicuous, no pictures were taken. Let me just tell you that the resort was breathtaking. This one I googled almost does it justice.

After Turtle Bay, we went home to wash the sand out and get ready for Vampire Weekend. This was their first show in Hawaii. I felt very privileged to have been the biggest fan in the room, having seen them in the mainland and here. You're welcome, Vampire Weekend.

We went with three girls Cody knows from school. The show was at the Pipeline Cafe in Honolulu.

The opening band was Linus, the only all-Asian rock group that sings in English I've ever seen. Only in Hawaii!

They made good use of the saxophone.

The ironic part is that Linus has been together for six years, while Vampire Weekend formed in 2006 and released their first album less than a year ago on 29 January 2008. Poor Linus.

Anyway, I sure like 'em.

Now, I know that I formerly swore off of concerts until November or Weezer at the end of this post. I decided that Vampire Weekend in Hawaii was an exception. I'm on vacation!

Also, I know that some of you hear the name "Vampire Weekend" and think about these.

Be assured that Vampire Weekend concerts are devoid of fangs, blood, and people that shimmer in the sunlight. They formed at Columbia University in New York, and sing upbeat songs that sound like a cross between Weezer, the Beach Boys, and Elvis' Blue Hawaii, with a pinch of African vibes thrown in. The band's name is derived from a movie that the lead singer made while in college. That's about as Vampire as they get.

Welp, I'm off to enjoy Hawaii now!

Hawaii: Day One

2008-07-29T13:51:00.005-06:00

So, yesterday was the big day. I went to bed at 1:30 AM Utah time (9:30 PM Hawaii time) and woke up two hours later to go to the airport to catch my early morning flight to San Francisco, the first stop in my flight path.

When I showed up to the airport, there was nobody at the counter to check people in. There were automated machines, but because my name is similar to some terrorist's, I am not able to check in via machine. I have to speak with an agent.

So at 4:04 AM, I thought my trip was off because no one was there to clear my name. They finally showed up at 4:20 AM, only to find out that in fact I don't look like this.

In San Francisco I had a two hour layover. I spent a fourth of that time roaming the airport looking for a McDonald's. I searched and searched, but was unable to find said fast food establishment. Upset, I settled for a subpar breakfast sandwich elsewhere, continued waiting, and finally, just when I thought it would never happen, boarded my plane to Hawaii!

The flight was uneventful. Upon landing, I decided the airport and surrounding area in Honolulu look a lot like LAX. The one major difference is that half of the airport is outdoors. The terminals are indoors, but the hallways were more like outdoor walkways. So, as soon as I got off the plane, I walked outside to go to the baggage claim.

After picking up my luggage, I proceeded to wander until I found the stop for rental car shuttles. Cody was originally going to meet me at the airport, but he missed his bus in Laie. He showed up after I got the car.

Good thing he didn't show up on time, though. If he had, I wouldn't have had my first Hawaiian Sammy's experience. As I waited for him to arrive, I circled the airport a few times. On my second go-round, as I drove past the American baggage claim/pick-up area, I looked out my window and saw a guy I thought looked a lot like a guy from my mission. I kept staring, and then realized that it was him.

I was so confused by what had happened that I didn't even think to stop or roll down my window. I just kept driving and staring. Luckily I had his number in my phone, so I called him once I realized what had happened. He's here with his wife on a family reunion. I can't go anywhere without things like that happening, and I love it.

Shortly after that uncanny experience, Cody showed up. Our first stop was Waikiki beach. We drove down there, parked the car (which took quite a while), and went into the water. It was beautiful.

After an hour or so there, we went back to the car and tried to find our way back to Laie. Traffic was pretty bad, and the roads were pretty confusing, but one thing we had going for us was the fact that we were on an island and couldn't possibly get that lost.

On the way back to Laie, we stopped at Pali Lookout, which was super windy. This picture overlooks the town of Kane'ohe, which is on the northeast shore of the island.

I don't know how fast the wind blows up through there, but if the picture of me doesn't demonstrate how fast it is, I hope the next picture does.

You can see their hair. If that's not enough, if she wasn't holding on to her shirt, it would have been long gone.

The views are breathtaking here, everything is super green, and all the people are very laid back.

When we got to Laie, Cody gave me a tour. We drove past the temple and around campus. Last night we ate at the cafeteria and even went to FHE.

I could really get used to the island life!

The Birds

2008-07-22T23:59:00.000-06:00

For two summers now, the parking garage under my complex has been plagued by what I believe to be a malicious, conspiring, and contriving family of swallows.

In some parts of the world, the return of the swallows is a joyous occasion, anticipated and celebrated yearly by news media and Catholic priests alike.

The return of the swallows here in Utah, however, is not so joyous. There are no parades, and the news media doesn't even seem to notice. All we have to look forward to are early morning scares by eager swallows out for a bite to eat, and, of course, their leftovers.

I'm not exactly sure why they don't go find a cave somewhere up in the mountains. Our garage is not a hospitable place. There are people coming and going at all hours, and the lights down there never turn off. On top of that, I scare the birds (to make up for all the times they've buzzed my head) every time I pass their perch.

I thought that after all the times I scared them last summer, they wouldn't return this year. I was not so lucky. They returned, and they are staying longer than expected. Mom and dad already flew the coup, but their ill-intentioned offspring have claimed the nest as their own, and may even be settling in for winter.

For now, I'll be redoubling my efforts to make sure these plague-covered, winged rats don't stick around much longer. And don't think I'm not going to knock that nest down as soon as they're gone.

Aloha â hui hou!

2008-07-22T23:58:00.000-06:00

Thanks to a little help from dad (and his many trips to Japan on United Airlines), I have secured the perfect trip to Laie, Hawaii on the island of Oahu.

My former/future roommate Cody is living over there while he attends summer term at BYU Hawaii, and next week I'm going to visit.

Free flight, free accomadations. Now I just need to find out where the free food is, and I'll be set.

Next Monday at 5:30 AM I'll be saying "Aloha â hui hou!" Click here to google what it means.

PS

The dashboard hula girl was given to me in high school by a Hawaiian friend. I must have it placed on the right wall in my apartment (feng shui).

John Mayer at USANA

2008-07-21T23:59:00.000-06:00

Tonight I hit the John Mayer show at the USANA Amphitheater.

I must say that upon my initial inspection, tonight's crowd was a little disappointing. I'm sure someone else would find the people entertaining to watch, but for the most part, everyone there looked like this guy.

And I like to think that I'm not a spectacle. That is, in every picture but this one, which makes me look like Quasi Modo.

Now, the evening wasn't completely devoid of good people watching. After a while, a few gems surfaced, and naturally, I documented them.

The first gem was sitting right next to me. She was a middle-aged, toe-tapping, beer-drinking, flask-toting kinda lady. We made sure to document the flask.

Concessions prices lead me to believe it was filled with water. Her breath says otherwise.

Next, there was this kid.

Notice how you can't see through him. Even during the breaks, he would only sit halfway down. What's worse? Leaning around him caused me to get even closer to flask lady, who had already crossed the line as far as personal space goes.

Back to the concert, my favorite part, besides John Mayer, had to be the free wristbands they were handing out at the gates. Give anything away for free, and automatically you need at least 15. I only got my hands on three.

They say something about John on the other side.

Speaking of John, the show was great.

Colbie Caillat opened. I don't really like anything she sings (besides "Bubbly"), but it says something for the artist when he or she can actually hit the notes that are played on the radio. Good artist, not my style.

Next came John Mayer. He knows how to entertain a crowd, both during and in between songs. He's a true musician, and you can tell he loves what he sings and plays. One highlight was his cover of Tom Petty's "Free Falling."

He's more bluesy than I realized. A lot of his stuff sounds like something I heard long ago at the Long Beach Blues Festival (the first concert I ever attended). Even dad would have liked the show tonight.

We saw Ray Charles at that festival. We also picked up at least 15 free CDs, one of which is now in my possession.

After this week, I have decided that concerts can be a little draining. I don't plan on doing another show for quite a while. I might actually wait for Coldplay in November or Weezer whenever (if ever) they go on tour.

For now, I'll have to find somewhere else to people watch. I always do!

More On Feist

2008-07-20T13:36:00.009-06:00

Leave the box wine at home, this is Deer Valley.

As you know, I went to the Feist concert on Thursday. Because the last concert I went to was still fresh in my memory, comparisons were impossible to avoid.

So, for your reading pleasure (and so you can fit in next time you go to a show at Deer Valley), here are a few of my favorite observations.

1. When participating in any Deer Valley event, you must leave the "booty" shorts and combat boots at home.

In their stead, you can wear something you picked up at the local Abercrombie and Fitch or Gossip Girl yard sale.

Maybe this picture illustrates best what I'm talking about.

2. Don't even think about eating your gourmet cupcake with anything but a spoon.

That's right, a spoon.

Only pigs and and Journey fans stuff cupcakes in their faces with their hands.

3. Be informed that the shiny, brass, rectangular thing on the wall in the bathroom is, in fact, a baby changing station.

4. Make sure you don't forget your haute cuisine via picnic basket. If you do, don't fret, they sell fully loaded picnic baskets at the concessions stand.

Each basket contains (or should contain) the following:

Cheese (nicely aged)
Crackers
Baguette
Wine (good vintage)
Wine glasses
Wine glass holder (to stick in the lawn)
Gourmet cupcakes

...and possibly some real food (not verified).

All in all, Deer Valley has proven again that it's all right.

As for the show, Feist was a great performer. I think she wooed the Deer Valley crowd, and they can be pretty hard to please. I mean, old people were dancing in the aisles.

Here's to Deer Vally and Feist.

Feist at Deer Valley and The Dark Knight

2008-07-18T14:29:00.003-06:00

Went to another concert last night. (Leslie) Feist. Great show.

If you're not familiar with her, here she is on Sesame Street.

I thought all the moms that read this (which is basically my entire readership) would appreciate that.

An in-depth, pictorial comparison to this concert is in the works.

After the Feist show, I made it by the skin of my teeth to the next hot spot, The Dark Knight premier.

As the title leads you to believe, the movie was thematically dark, but very entertaining. Harp Erstein of The Palm Beach Post agrees in this review.

You've done it again, Hollywood.

Oh! As a side note, no, I am not an avid reader of The Palm Beach Post. I just googled "thematically dark," and that review came up.

Someday I'll blog about how often I refer to Google in creating each post. Google and I are inextricably connected. And yes, I did just google "inextricably" to make sure my usage was correct.

Creepy

2008-07-17T10:50:00.002-06:00

I don't know how to feel about this. It has increased traffic on my blog, but it's coming from people that watch really, really, extremely boring things on YouTube.

I stumbled across it when I was looking to see what was referring people to my blog. I thought it was a little strange that people were linking in from YouTube.

Whatever brings 'em in, I guess.

Now, here's back at you, Journey-obsessed, username "beerxpress."

Watch as your hits go through the roof!

S. T. Lewis

2008-07-16T12:30:00.000-06:00

If you're not blogged down and could use a laugh, check out this guy's blog.

My friend Marie pointed me to it by telling me I'm funnier than he is. Though grateful for the flattery, I have to say I don't agree.

My two favorite posts (thus far) are "Freak of Nature" and "Frosty the Snowman."

I can't find a way to link directly to "Frosty the Snowman," so just scroll halfway down the page to 13 December 2007 and you'll find it. This stuff is laugh-out-loud funny.

I hope you like it as much as I do.

Lemonade

2008-07-16T00:00:00.000-06:00

On my way to the bank today, I drove past a couple of little girls selling lemonade on the side of the road. As I drove on, I told myself that I would stop and support their burgeoning business on my way home.

Then, at the bank, I made the mistake of depositing all my cash--I meant to keep out a few bucks. My hasty deposit left me unable to support the little girls.

I, being the "nice guy" that I am, had already imagined how I was going to be their only customer and how they would remember me for years to come as the "nice guy" who stopped to buy their lemonade when no one else cared to notice they had set up a stand. My dream was shattered. I guess I could've asked if they accepted AmEx.

Anyway, seeing the little girls reminded me of selling lemonade with my best friend James when I was a kid. There were a few differences between our lemonade stand and theirs.

First, their stand was on a residential street, not unlike this drawing.

James and I set up shop on the corner of Hamer Dr. (the street our house was on) and Yorba Linda Boulevard (the nearest cross street/busiest street in town), which was sometimes like this picture.

But was usually more like this.

I know those little girls didn't get their lemons at the produce-less Provo Farmers' Market, but I'm sure one of their mothers drove to the store to pick up their supplies in one of these.

James and I, on the other hand, got our lemons from the source (the hybrid lemon tree in our backyard, which produced the HUGEST lemons ever).

(I couldn't resist giving the lemon wheels like the soccer-mom mobile.)

We couldn't do just lemonade, though. Our aspirations were much bigger than that. We had to do Kool-Aid and, of all things, Blow Pops (which our cheerleader sisters had taught us were a staple of life). Those (in our minds) could only be purchased at Smith's. Smith's was several miles away, up the busiest road in town, in another city. Why we chose Smith's, I don't know. Anyway, we walked there. And on the way back, we got chased by some of these.

Okay, it was Orange County. They probably looked more like this.

Or like this (I wish).

Whatever they looked like, chase us they did. So we ran and hid behind some bushes until they got distracted by their reflections or something.

When we finally made it back to our house, we dragged the card table and some folding chairs down to the corner, set up shop, and waited for the customers and the cash to come rolling in.

The little girls today probably made some of this.

And they probably got it from some poor, starving student who didn't just deposit all his or her cash in the bank.

James and I, however, were just lucky we didn't end up like this.

We were just too stationary and the cars were just not stationary enough. No potential customers could spot us in their peripherals as they zoomed past.

Anyway, that's what I thought of when I saw the little girls with the lemonade stand today. I had my camera with me and thought about taking a picture, but then thought of how creepy that would seem and decided against it.

The Fates

2008-07-13T20:20:00.000-06:00

The college crowd is really big on Arrested Development, a show that ran for two and a half seasons on Fox. I personally own the complete series on DVD. It has given itself to endless hours of entertainment.

On 1 June 2008 I was watching the show with friends, and one of the characters made an obscure reference to Joan Baez.

I was curious about who she was, so I googled her. It was then that I found out she was a folk singer born in 1941.

The next day, 2 June 2008, was the release date for the latest Weezer album. This is where it gets a little weird. (Emphasis on a little. It's not that weird, but still unexpected.)

I had to work at 7:00 AM that day. After an early morning meeting, I left and made a B line to Borders, where I bought the new album. Of course, I listened to it right away and loved every minute. (I am proud to say I was the first person to buy the album that day at that Borders.)

When I got to track four, here's what I heard:

"...And Joan Baez, I never listened to too much jazz, but hippie songs could be heard in our pad."

The fates aligned, and thanks to Arrested Development, I knew who Joan Baez was the night before Weezer alluded to her on track four.

Thanks, the fates.

Cheap Trick, Heart, and Journey

2008-07-12T00:59:00.000-06:00

40-somethings and has-beens of the world, unite!

Anytime, there's a group performing that had its day in the sun 20 years ago, you know the crowd's gonna be great for people watching.

I first learned this in high school when my friend Katie Neuens won tickets to a Simple Minds concert. Don't know who they are? Neither did we.

Here they are before I was born...

We were probably 17 at the time. The minute we walked in the door, we realized that we were at least 20 years younger than the rest of the crowd. We stayed through the one song we knew, "Don't You Forget About Me," and then went to Denny's to discuss how great the crowd was to watch.

That night we learned Simple Minds' signature dance move. In case you're preparing for the next Simple Minds tour, here's how to do the dance. Just pretend you're lassoing a cow without a rope. Now do it incessantly through the whole show. That's it!

The "old band, good crowd watching" principle was reiterated when I saw Cheap Trick perform at a taping of the Craig Kilborn Show.

I haven't seen that many black and white checkers since.

Not even tonight.

We actually missed Cheap Trick. They performed while we were stuck for almost two hours driving the five miles between the offramp and the amphitheater.

We made it in time for Heart, though.

"What about love..."

"Barracuda..."

"Magic man..."

Heart was good. Journey followed.

Since we didn't know we missed the first band, we thought Journey was Cheap Trick. After a few songs, we realized that Arnel Pineda was the new Stephen Ray Perry, that both those guys look nothing like Robin Zander, and that the band performing was in fact Journey (I didn't know any of those names until right now. Thanks, Google.)

"Don't stop believin'..."

"Faithfully..."

"Any way you want it..."

"Open arms..."

"Wheel in the sky..."

The songs that we knew were great, but the crowd alone was worth the money.

Some highlights:

Can you say "Honky Tonk Badonkadonk?"

I was discretely aiming for the woman in the white tank top on the far left. Be glad you can't read the four-letter word on the front of her shirt.

Here's a good shot of her from the front. The first line on her shirt informs readers to keep their hands off. The second line tells you she's taken. Boy, I'm glad someone's already claimed her. I bet he bought her that shirt, too.

What a view we had right in front of us. They left midway through the show to "make out" on the hood of their car and wait for their equally trashy kids.

The woman could hardly contain her excitement. The man, on the other hand...

Way too much booty for one night. Her theme song is that new one, "I Kissed a Girl." So trashy, I mean catchy.

It was great walking up to my car to find the woman on the right relieving herself. When she saw us, she awkwardly worked her pants up, continued relieving herself, and then stumbled up the hill. It took her and her equally drunk friend a minute or two to make it to the top. Good thing they were too drunk to care about the pictures we were snapping.

I sure don't miss the 80s as much as tonight's crowd does. In 20 years, though, I'll really miss the 90s and this hard-to-name decade (the 10s?). I can only hope to make a spectacle of myself at some Vampire Weekend or Weezer show.

"So much things to say..."

2008-07-10T21:41:00.000-06:00

Okay, after what's gone down here and here it's my turn. I can't think of anything to say about myself, so I need you to.

Here are the rules:

1. As a comment on my blog, leave one memory that you and I had together. It doesn't matter if you knew me a little or a lot, anything you remember!

2. Next, re-post these instructions on your blog and see how many people leave a memory about you. It's actually pretty funny to see the responses.

If you leave a memory about me, I'll assume you're playing the game and I'll come to your blog and leave one about you. You must do it!

Free Audiobook

2008-07-08T15:38:00.001-06:00

The Alchemist, a novel by Brazilian-born author Paulo Coelho, is free as an audiobook on iTunes through 14 July.

Check it out, it's free.

Provo Farmers' Market

2008-07-08T15:38:00.000-06:00

Go in search of good produce, return with the following realizations:

You have seen the oldest percussionist living.

People keep really weird things under their hoods, like mustangs kicking cougars and wannabe Cabbage Patch Kids.

No matter where you go, you can always catch someone dancing at the bus stop.

and...

Farmers' markets sell everything a hippie could want except fresh produce.

The Crazy Streets of Provo: July Third and Fourth

2008-07-05T12:18:00.001-06:00

If you didn't know this, the streets of Provo, more specifically University Avenue between campus and Center Streeet, are the place to be on the eve of Independence Day. On a usual night, once the sun goes down, so do the people. On July Fourth Eve, however, that's just when things get started.

Last year I almost spent the night on the streets with friends. At about 3:00 AM I realized that my bed was three blocks away and walked home.

This holiday weekend, I decided that the craziness needed to be documented. My friend Dede and I caught as many crazies on camera as we could. From Santaquin to Salt Lake, they came from all around, and brought with them all the craziness/white-trashiness/high-schooliness they could.

So, for your viewing pleasure, I present "The Crazy Streets of Provo: July Third and Fourth."

The white kids outside Seven Eleven--notice there are no cops. They were busy racial profiling.

This guy found his scene.

This dude knows where it's at.

Oh no, a fire.

Rival minority groups in Provo? Fighting? Only on the Fourth.

Do anything to get the tunes to follow you wherever you go.

These high school boys were fascinated by something on the pharmaceuticals aisle.

We tried to get a discreet shot of her face, but we couldn't for fear that her posse would see us and kill us. We still don't know if it was the alcohol or the drugs, but she was having a hard time.

Only on the Third/Fourth.

Disgusting!

Why's this guy carrying a purse? He walked by several times with that bag.

Honey Bucket? There's no honey in there.

Take my word, it was crazy. Dede and I lost track of time and ended up being out 'til 3:30 AM just walking, snapping pictures, and being amazed at what had become of our little Provo.

Trust me, we usually get yelled at by the cops if we're riding scooters after dark. "No wheels after dark," they say.

This is not the Provo I know, but I think I like it...once a year.

Groundhog Day

2008-07-05T12:18:00.000-06:00

I was stuck publishing on July 1, 2008. I couldn't get out. Finally something worked and I'm publishing in the present. Don't miss what I made on "July 1."

Lady Liberty

2008-07-02T16:02:00.000-06:00

We've spent the last few weeks at work preparing for the Freedom Festival's big Gala, which is being held tonight in our ballroom.

We're serving 829 people and have 103 tables. Each of those tables has a centerpiece...her name is Lady Liberty.

Starting at the beginning of June, we started looking all over Utah Valley for silver, 12", foam board Statues of Liberty. My coworker and I drove to every craft, fabric, scrap booking, and teacher supply store in the area, and could not find them. (We were looking, because we had used them last year and knew they existed.)

Finally, we found them on the Internet, but instead of just purchasing the Ladies, we went ahead and purchased a kit to make the entire centerpiece. They came in about a week ago, and since then I've been working to get them together.

I asked why we didn't have a "creative" person doing the centerpieces, but I already knew the answer. Our wedding planner just got married and is on her honeymoon, and the other events coordinator who loves this sort of thing was doing girls' camp. So that left me to make 103 Lady Liberty centerpieces.

It took about three days, an uncounted number of glue sticks, and 20 crew members, but we got it done.

25 Ladies made their debut on Sunday at an event for Glenn Beck.

Tonight, the original 25 ladies and an additional 78 have hit the floor to dazzle and inspire the guests at the gala.

Home Away From Home

2008-07-02T00:28:00.006-06:00

Okay, this is uncanny.

I went to Sammy's tonight with some friends (we were out exploring the Fourth of July Eve's festivities). While we were there, my friends lived the real Sammy's experience.

First, there's my friend Ashley.

Naturally, I had told her about my reuniting experiences at Sammy's, so she was fully prepared to appreciate what was about to happen to her.

We were sitting waiting to order, and she noticed a lady that looked familiar. It turns out that the lady lives in her home stake in northern Utah.

As if that's not enough, there's my friend Ben.

We were sitting outside eating when he saw not one, but TWO people from his hometown, Glendora, California.

We decided that Sammy's is our "Home Away From Home." They let us put this Polaroid up on the wall.

It's uncanny.

"Down Under" - Men At Work

2008-07-02T00:28:00.005-06:00

I got this from one of my coworkers and decided to try it out... I've decided to add the artists as well.

The instructions:

1. Put your music player on shuffle.
2. Press forward for each question.
3. Use the song title as the answer to the question.

What does next year have in store for me?
"Stay" - Lisa Loeb and Nine Storis

What does your love life look like?
"Cemeteries of London" - Coldplay

What do I say when life gets hard?
"We Used To Be Friends" - The Dandy Warhols

What do I think of when I get up in the morning?
"Thanks A Lot" - Third Eye Blind

What song will I dance to at my wedding?
"Amame" - Juanes

What do I want to do for my career?
"Soak Up The Sun" - Sheryl Crow

Your favorite saying?
"Undeniable" - Mat Kearney

Favorite place?
"Lo Nuestro" - Gloria Estefan

What do you think of your parents?
"Raise It Up" - The IMPACT Repertory Theatre & Jamia Simone Nash

Where would you go on a first date?
"Stupid Boy" - Keith Urban

Describe yourself.
"I Will Survive" - Enrique Iglesias

What is the thing I like doing most?
"Yesterday I Loved You" - Allen Case, Anne Jones

The song that best describes the president?
"Danke Bush" - Blumentopf

What is my state of mind like at the moment?
"Daughters" - John Mayer

How will I die?
"The One" - Foo Fighters

The song that will be played at your funeral?
"Take a Bow" - Muse

The song you'll put as the title:
"Down Under" - Men At Work

Who's next?

**My Reaction**

"Cemeteries of London" is my love life? Sounds morbid.

"Amame" means "Love Me." I think that is perfect for a first dance at a wedding.

"Danke Bush" as in "Thanks, Bush" in German. What are the odds? It really was on shuffle. I mean, why would I title this blog "Down Under?"

Also, I made you a muxtape if you want to hear one of these songs. I could only upload the mp3s (dang iTunes), so not all the songs are there.

The following people say hello:

2008-07-02T00:28:00.002-06:00

Mom and dad,

The following people say hello and wonder how you are doing:

Dan Okerlund

Laura Crays

Art Reck

President and Sister Love

President and Sister Burnett

The Morrises

The Westergards

Brother Georgianna (and yes, he referred to dad by his "pet" name)

Dan Lorens

Jonathan Remmington

The Rooneys

...and probably 50 others I can't remember.

Sammy's is the center of my universe!

2008-07-02T00:28:00.001-06:00

Tonight, I'm driving down Center Street on my way to Sammy's. I drive by and the place is packed, so I decide not to go.

I continue on my merry way and then realize that the GIANT crowd outside of Sammy's and another local dance hall is made up by the youth and youth leaders from my stake in California.

I didn't realize it was them until I was a block away and saw Dan Okerlund. I can honestly say he was the last person I expected to see sitting alone on a bench with a drunk man on Center Street in Provo.

I'm convinced now that every time or every other time I go to Sammy's something from my past will collide with the present, thus making Sammy's the center of my universe.

I should probably measure for magnetic fields or something like that around the restaurant.

I'll keep you posted.

PS

You really gotta try this place.

Sammy's
27 North 100 West
Provo, UT 84601

Two Worlds Colliding

2008-06-26T00:05:00.000-06:00

Sometime last fall I was driving through "downtown" Provo and noticed a restaurant I hadn't seen before, but instantly felt drawn to.

Eight months later (give or take a few), I gave into my inner desire to eat at Sammy's. Little did I know that my two worlds were going to collide in that burger joint.

Nothing strange happened on the first visit. I went in, ordered a burger, and loved it.

On the second visit, I decided to sit on the other side of the room so I could stare at a different wall while I waited for my food. (Their walls are very well decorated.)

It was while I waited on my second visit that I noticed something that rang a bell. It was some pictures from the Nick Jr. show Yo Gabba Gabba.

Suddenly the cogs were going faster and faster in my brain.

I was thinking, "Didn't a Schultz from my stake in California create that show," and "Didn't SAM Schultz do catering in California with his dad?"

Then it hit me, "Oh, this restaurant is called Sammy's. Sammy = Sam Schultz." I was glad to find that connection, which made me love the place even more than I already did after my first visit.

Today, I made my third visit. It was on this visit that my "two worlds" collided.

On my second visit, I picked up a card at the register with their take-out number on it. Today, I decided to take advantage of the take-out, and called in a BLT order. Some dude (Chris? who used to live in P3) picked up, and then handed the phone off to "Brooke." I made my order and then was on my way to pick it up.

When I walked into the restaurant, I could not figure out how, but I recognized "Brooke." (I don't know why I'm putting "Brooke" into quotation marks.)

She wasn't in my ward here at school and I never worked with her at Catering.

And then boom, I asked, "Are you Brooke Webber from Nashville?"

"Yes..."

"Oh, my parents are Bob and Diane Johnson, they live in your ward in Nashville. We met last year at Paige's Nashville Party here in Provo."

Not only is she from an obscure place, but I met her in an obscure way. I barely even talked to her at that party, so I should not have recognized her, but I did...

Who would have thought that Placentia, Brentwood (Nashville), and Provo would have all collided this week at Sammy's?

Talk about weird.

I can't wait to see what happens on my fifth visit. (No, I didn't lose count. I made visits three and four today. Visit number four was uneventful.)