Digital Civilization

There comes a time in a man's semi-well constructed life in which he must seek for extra credit in order to ease his stressing soul. Tonight, I attended a seminar/class thing in order to do just that on "Digital Civilization", which I had no idea what to expect apart from the fact that it would NOT be about video games.
Imagine my surprise and delight when they had a very distracting display on the projector that showed the entire auditorium your anonymous comments and questions while the speakers presented their various programs and experiences. All you had to do was text it, and it showed up for 100+ people to see while the speaker was oblivious to it, like a constant public twitter feed.
People were afraid at first... the comments were all the same. "I want to take this class", and "wow, that's cool...." and one brave soul posted, "I wonder how long it will take before someone proposes on this." Then I decided to introduce a little anarchy.
"Mormons are wierd"
After the reactions to that one died down, and the hard nosed participants voiced there dismay at the lack of focus (and by voiced I mean typed a few motherly words of rebuke behind the safety of a cell-phone keyboard), I wasn't quite done...
"These mashed potatoes are so creamy"
I only got three responses for that one, but a lot more comments on how the randumbness of people was distracting. Hey, they're choosing to be distracted.
Finally, I advertised this blog, saying "There's a guy who does a blog that's great for bored people at regularguylife.blogspot.com" so if anyone heeds that promotion, then I consider myself... incriminated.
All in all, the Digital Civilization was still a neat-o presentation, being an amalgamation of methods is which we utilize technology to enhance students' experiences. I got that much out of it, despite that fascinating toy that proved to be even more fun than Y-Chat rooms from the 90's.
Ope, it's 11:11. Cross your fingers for passing grades!

Why 'Homework' Is Not a Good Excuse for Anything

"Hey Sally, wanna go out this weekend?"
"I can't. I'm just swamped with homework."
"Well... *&$@# you!"

This was not a real conversation, I assure you. But maybe it got somebody thinking...
The other night I had to turn down an opportunity to do something on account of writing a paper--on account of homework. As hypocritical as this sounds, I am an exception to the rule that I am about to argue for in the following blurb. Why? Because I had a virus back in the summertime which wiped my computer clean so I no longer have Microsoft Word and I have to go to campus to write or edit papers and print them off. It's not a fun situation at all, especially for an English major. Since the library is only open for so long, I have to respect its hours and it puts me in a tight corner sometimes due to my own procrastination.

As for you, it's all a matter of priorities. If you want to make time for something (or someone) then you will make time. Homework is flexible in the fact that it can be done ANYTIME YOU'RE HOME! That means you could stay up til five in the morning doing the overkill study that college students are surprisingly prone to do. So when you tell a guy that you can't go out with him on account of an over-abundance of homework, what you're really saying is, "You're not important enough to me to find the time." Sure, dates may take a while, but if you simply informed him of your situation, however dire it may be, I'm sure he would be accommodating--he could change the plans to take up only, say, an hour of your time. And it could be a meal, so you could take out whatever time you had planned on cooking your Veggie Burgers or salads or whatever you girls eat. You don't need to spend two hours getting ready for this one... the man just wants to spend some time with you, to enjoy your company, and to know that maybe there is some interest on your part.
The moral is: You can manage your time to find room for somebody, but only if they're important enough to you. Homework? Not an issue... the real issue is your own priorities. Now, it's not a bad thing to have homework higher on your priority list than dating (is it?), just understand that if I ever get that excuse from you, you'd have been better off telling me you were busy shampooing your llama.

Disclaimer: Anyone reading this probably gets the impression that I've recently been turned down as some silly female opted for homework over a chunk of manliness she probably couldn't handle anyways. You would be incorrect to assume such. It's been a few months now since I've got that excuse from anyone. This is only something that's been on my mind, what with finals and everything.

Why I'm Excited to Graduate

Let me tell you a parable: there once were two men, and one said, "I go a shopping," and the other said, "Buy me some milk, or on the morrow, I shall have yours." So the man went and bought milk for himself and the other man, knowing that his threat was indeed valid (for it had happened previously many times). And the man was a malk-oholic, so he bought 2% for himself and 1% for the other, for he drank not skim, and he mused to himself, "Should I run out first, and surely I shall for I am a malk-aholic, I can then drink the 1% that I bought for the other man." Yet the other man was wroth with him for not buying skim, saying it was not his favorite. And the malk-aholic vowed from that day forward to do the other man no favors.

Ok, it's not a parable. It's a true story. And when I say that I'm excited to graduate, it's not so much from BYU as it is from the bachelor pad. I'm sick of dude roommates. A permanent chica roommate surely ain't a smooth ride either, but at least then there will only be two people making the kitchen messy, and I'll only have to clean up after two people every other day.
So if there are any particularly desperate females reading this post, just give this number a call: 832-472-2204. I can't guarantee that you'll be the supremely lucky one, but you're almost guaranteed a shot at it.

Then again, maybe there's a cave somewhere with my name on it. I could take a paper out of the wizard of Ajziou's book ad just go full hermit... ha, I just referenced my own work!

Dream Sports Journal Corner

So I read Lindsey's Facebook status about her childrens' night terrors. Strange... I still have night terrors. In fact, I had one last night. It's always the same yet progressively worse--there I am, having a good time, and then I remember that my teeth are rotting away, and I find that there are now three teeth on my bridge and they keep falling out. Poor Waylon... he never was happy in his home. Then my bottom teeth start to rot and fall out. All a man can do in such a situation is cry, and then awake in the morning in a cold sweat, checking with your tongue that they're all still there, and let the vivid sensation of despair slowly ebb over a few hours before I can return to normal activity.

Phil Jackson joined the bandwagon for saying that the Rockets' championships were tainted by the absence of Michael Jordan. Can you say "Sour grapes"?! Wow, for a while I kind of respected the simian man for his humor and lightheartedness with the media, being a minorly respectable person on one of the nation's most disrespectable teams. No more. Now the zen master can keep his title, but only if zen means surrounding yourself with the biggest egos in basketball to bring you championships.
And as for all you morons who want to downplay the Rocket's championships because Jordan decided to go baseball those years or whatever, guess what... You don't know if it would have turned out any different. Jordan didn't play, and the Bulls didn't win. The Rockets did. And that first championship over the Knicks in 94 was done with but one superstar on the team and a bunch of role players. Who else can claim that, besides maybe the Pistons? Phil Jackson certainly can't with any of his teams.

If I were to agree with your assumption, Phil, (and we all know what happens when we assume) that the Rockets would have lost should Jordan have played, and the wins were indeed tainted... then perhaps your game seven victory against the Rockets in the 2009 playoffs was tainted because Yao didn't play that game... and perhaps your ensuing championship was also tainted because Kevin Garnett was out for that post-season, as well as Jameer Nelson for the Orlando Magic. I mean, maybe they can't be compared to Michael Jordan, but you just never know what sort of difference they could have made. You just never know... and there's no way you could ever know.

Sports Corner with a Dunce Cap

Here's the sports news that you don't hear from ESPN. Unbiased. Unproven. Underdogs. Well, maybe a little biased.

This just in: There are no good NFL teams. They all suck! It seems like every week, someone who you thought was good loses to a team that everyone acknowledges as being bad. Therefore, all the teams are bad. Bring in the replacements.

This is NOT Brett Favre's last year. Perhaps it's his last with the Vikings, but oh, he's not done. He can't end on a note like this, not with his pride. And I'd hate to see him go out on such a sour note. Despite everything that he's done and all sources pointing to a universally unlikeable guy, I kind of feel sorry for him... and last year's Vikings were pretty exciting, no? Besides, he can always come back, blaming all the bad kharma on injuries, when in reality, it's just bad kharma.

The NBA is no country for young men. Here's a shout out to the young guns of OKC: I still think you're underrated. On the other hand, the best records in the league belong to the Spurs, Lakers, and Celtics, each one being jam packed with geezers who still know how to get the job done. And the if the Lakers aren't overrated, then Kobe Bryant certainly is. It's all about the Cave Man now (Pow-wow Gas-hole), and his ugly grunts that put him at the line every time he misses a lay-up. He's the second most unfair player in the league. The first is Dirk.

And what is with Houston teams and the inability to finish? If there was a rating for "Most frustrated fans," I'm sure we'd get the number one spot. Well, maybe number two after New York (welcome, Knicks, to another decade of irrelevance). Get well soon, Yao.

Jimmy Johnson won his fifth straight cup, but that means about as much to me as a velvet painting of a whale and a dolphin gettin' it on.

Good night, Provo! Soon I will awake and no longer be in the land of abominable fans. Actually, I think most of them are all pretty abominable anywhere you go. That's a personal issue though.

When Other Blogs Fail...

Today in my English 291 class, we talked about the value of keeping a record regularly as opposed to only when interesting things happen. So perhaps I can do this at least twice a week, no? That would be better than what I have usually done. I still keep up in my other journal (my real journal) every day.
It's now been over six years since I began keeping that journal. Apart from the stint in Centenniel and Aragon House, I have input for every day. So I could ask myself what I was doing this time last year, and most likely I could answer myself as well. Then again, sometimes my life seemed pretty boring. I can always tell because my entries are more philosophical on those days.
Oh shoot, I think I missed my third year anniversary for this blog! How to celebrate? Shall I go buy some pasta? I think so... and maybe some Crispix. I LOVE CRISPIX!!

If It wasn't for the MLB, it'd be another Awful year for sports.

Sometimes I fantasize about going into the NBA as a fall guy. Just some no name little dude that "accidently" trips into the knees of Kobe Bryant and just happens to "accidently" kick his nose at the same time. It would be pretty acrobatic and pretty kharmatic too. I just made up the word kharmatic, and I'm pretty sure I don't need to provide a definition.

I can't stand how ESPN begins the Laker love-fest after they win their first game. And now they've won 8 and they're all like, "Man, those Lakers are SCARY good!" and I'm like, "They've only played 2 road games, both against the Kings and Suns... not that impressive of a schedule." Yet still... I wish ESPN didn't hold such a monopoly on sporting news. I think we should start a new station that features mostly the underdogs. We'll mention the Pittsburgh Pirates about once every two months... which is more than ESPN can say for probably two years.
Oh wait, they already have this for the local teams and stuff. Come on, the Mountain? VS? I could shoot better quality with a camera phone. Ok maybe not... but you get my point.

Observations in the Library

Sitting here in the library, after a good half hour of conjuring up some essay, my attention span wanes and I begin to look elsewhere for a bit. I start to observe people around me, and I find them fascinating in an almost creepy sort of way.
For instance, I swear that's Keri Russel's cousin sitting across the way from me. Also, some Asians are actually... attractive. Maybe she's Phillipino? There's a girl at the printer that I took out when I was in Liberty Square two years ago. There, caught her eye! She didn't acknowledge me though. I guess I can't blame her. And without fail, there is always some dude watching anime. Have these people no shame? I wouldn't even watch Avatar (the Last Airbender type) in a public setting. I wouldn't be caught dead watching the actual movie again, because then I'd be dead and have no way to explain it. Nyuk nyuk, I think I've used that one before. Thanks Mr. Beck.
It's 8:40 now, and I see my old roommate from last year. I look him up on Facebook and find out he's engaged. That makes me kind of happy, good for Barret! I also see some familiar faces from old classes, you know the sort where you'd catch their eye and nod as if some semblance of familiarity existed between you, but you don't even know their name. Was it from class, or was it from reffing? Or maybe EFY? I've been here too long.
Oh yeah, there's a couple that won't stop SUCKING FACE over there. What is the nerve with these people and their PDA's? I wonder if they know that they're being watched... and a pattern is being established. Smooch, break, smooch, break... maybe a word here or there between the meeting of the lips. They're still going! In and out like some oral dance of shameless awkwardness...
I should really get back to work but I'm starting to get enthralled with this guy's anime show. I bet they're more enjoyable when you don't hear the sound anyways. I've just realized that the girl that has been sitting next to me for the past half hour or so is pretty attractive as well. She's left her computer but she's still logged on so I can see her name. Grace L... Dick? That's unfortunate. I hope she doesn't come back and prove to be as nosy as I am.
Ok, it's back to wrok time.

Bazinga

Sometimes, holidays come and go and I just forget to care. It happens a lot with Valentine's Day.
Anyfeathers, my weekend was full of fail, so I will not post about it. I will say that it is now 11:45 and I am heading to bed, awaiting a new week full of homework deadlines and tournament reffings. This is where life gets really fun!! Why you ask? Because madness is like gravity... all you need is a little push! LOLNARPASSOW!!
(Laugh out loud in a really psycho and scary sort of way...)
No, I was not the joker for Halloween.

Book of the Man of Little Consequence

Chapter 9:

1. And the man of little consequence ran amuck and laughed himself to scorn at this most silly pun which referreth to his running of the 10k.
2. And his zip drive was lost which containeth his writings of nearly fourty years... or rather six months. For this he was much grieved.
3. Then, looking upon a mirror, he speaketh unto himself as one with waning sanity,
4. Saying, "Wherefore doubtest thou? Rememberest thou not how the Lord did return thine Credit Card, thine wallet, thine orientation (on so many occasions), and thine participant's cell phone which belonged to his mother? And thou, being much more pitiful than he, and in need of so much more pity, shouldst indeed be pitied shouldst thou but ask."
5. And he poured out his soul all the minute long and again an hour later, for the zip drive had not yet appeared in his pocket as a philosopher's stone.
6. But the Lord trieth the patience of his people, and it would yet be many more days before the man rediscovered his zip drive.
7. And there was much rejoicing.
8. For what man, when he loseth his zip drive, does not leave his ninety and nine other responsibilities to find it, and when he bringeth it home rejoiceth with all his house? For certain, it was not this man, for he cared not for his house.
9. And the man of little consequence did resume his electronic journal as if he were Dougie Houser.

10. And the professors continued to judge his writings to be a thing of naught. And he was moved with indignation towards them.
11. Then he remembereth the saying: Judge not the judges lest ye become a judge and likewise be disliked.
12. And when he became an intramural official, he remembered the saying and wept.

13. Now it was three and a half years since the return from the land of exceeding vanity and pride.
14. And his first participant to serve a mission did return from his labors.
15. But the man of little consequence had a fallen countenance, for all his talents had returned but little talents.
16. But the Canadien saith unto him, "She whom ye ignorantly dream of declare I unto you." And it was a reference to a song.
17. And what man or woman among you can, by taking thought, tell which song he listened to that inspired him thus?

18. And still the man of little consequence found joy that the snows had not yet come to punish the people of the land of a thousand talents.

Bad News for Bors

So I was looking back on some of my old posts (yes, I am that pompous) and I read a comment from one of my friends that said that I need to post more pictures of animals. So here goes!

Most of you know that apart from my alter-identities as Adventure Haver and the man of little consequence, I am also one step away from being a professional pirate. When that glorious day comes, I will have a pet squirrel sit upon my shoulder. And not just any squirrel... a Prevost's squirrel. You may have seen him at the Hogle zoo sometime...


I will feed him cheetohs and name him Barnacle Bottom, but most people will call him Barnabie for short. He will also have a mean streak the size of a... he can leap about... LOOK AT THE BONES!!!

Analytical Overkill and Audience Poll

John Cheever's wrote these short stories that can be considered an analysis of suburban living. In my 295 class, we are studying these stories and writing analytical papers on them. The other day, the instructor posted one of these papers on the projector and opened the floor to comments and criticisms. When one of the girls brought up a particularly controversial point, he then asked for responses to her response. I wanted to raise my hand and say, "Has it occurred to anyone that we are now doing an analysis of an analysis of an analysis of an analysis?" I think Calvin would have said it, and I could always strive to be more like Calvin. He hangs out with a tiger and when he doesn't like something, he just pees on it.

Also Also Wik, I am looking for a name for our football team. Spizzerinctum has been rejected twice now... wierd. Anyways, I figure if that was rejected a dozen of my other choices would be too like: Fart Nuggets, Boosh Dags, Chigger-Bate, Dog-Faced Dubey-Smokers, Corporate Tools, etc.

So these are my other options in no particular rank:
Happy Ponies
Flying Boogers
Boogers on the Wall
Spanky Browns
Face-Mangling Monkey Nuggets
-or-
Team Peeta.

Take your choice. Really, do. I haven't had a comment in several posts.

Where Do You Get Inspiration From?

So I was in my creative writing class today and I was just sitting there minding my own business, when my teacher straight up steps on my foot and stood there for like five seconds (which is exaggerated slightly in the poem for iambic reasons) while she was handing back a paper. Straightly after the unusual event, I put it into words.

A few classes later she asked for some random ten-syllable line to start us off on our sonnets. I raised my hand and gave a line. She was like, "Great", and then she asked for another. I gave the next one, and then the next one--I already had the sonnet written after all... Then she addressed the class, "See how simple it is to make things rhyme?" Then a student asked her if these lines given would get an 'A'. Her prompt and final answer: "No".

Regardless, a few days later, I turned this in my sonnet. It was titled:

This is Not an 'A' Poem, But It's Based on a True Story

My teacher stood upon my foot today,
Of this offense she was quite unaware,
But I wore sandals, much to my dismay
And all the toes upon my foot were bare.
I made strange and agonizing faces
For all the twenty-seven seconds that
she stood on that foot in thoughtless stasis
As if I were an unfeeling doormat.

Then I smiled and mused at the irony
Should the incriminating happenstance
Be put into a form of poetry
so I could seek her grace for recompense

For it was she who upon my foot stood
And judged the first few lines to be not good.

Like Finding Buried Treasure!

After years of searching, I finally found one of my all time favorite commercials. Enjoy.

http://adland.tv/commercials/degree-kung-fu-long-2004-030-usa

School Rantings, the Unrelated Sequel to Cool Runnings

I walk into the MckAy building today and there is a screen that asks, "What do you love about BYU?" Ha, I was just grumbling about the whole institution...

So I left the world of mathematically narrow and meaningless right answers to come to the world of English... where there are NO right answers. Today in one of my classes as the essays of various students were being picked apart by the opinions of other students, I raised my hand and said, "Isn't it all relative? I mean, even if it's a critical analysis, people only write what they believe, so when you say what's wrong and what's right about this, how can we trust it? Maybe they meant for it to be this way. Maybe you may wish for an apple or an orange, but you still got a peach... and seriously, if you dig deep enough into anyone's work, you can get positive and negative. So why on earth did I get a C on my last paper that I spent several hours on?"

Ok, so maybe I didn't really say that out loud. I mean, I did in my mind. If they could read my mind they'd be like, "What?" But I guess the moral of the story is that there is no way out. I give you my paper and subject myself to your subjective whims, oh professor, and who shall be the ultimate judge of how this affects my GPA slash life?

If only every math test was just a sudoku puzzle and every English test was a crossword. Then I would own life.

Favorite Words

Nope. I'm not talking about pants. Not this time.

I remember a time in third grade when Ms. Sharp was asking for verbs. I raised my hand and said, "Disembowel!", and awaiting praise for my multi-syllabled smart word, I was instead harangued for my morbidity. Hey... Jurassic Park was the new hot thing.

Anyways, my most favorite recent word is one of which I have no idea what the meaning is, but the music still plays in my head and makes me want to do opium, solve mysteries, speak quickly in a low British accent, and fade out of existence into self-imposed exclusion on account of my hopelessly incurable introversion.

What is this word? I will give you five worthless house points if you guess it!

Parataxis: Recipe for the Super Sleuth

I am sitting here in the library between classes. It's noon. I am hungry. I think of hamburgers. Someone nearby smells of intense sunblock lotion mixed with ocean breeze. Curse my wolverine sense of smell...

I've got this assignment due in a few hours, but I've hit a roadblock. A sonnet... so structured and so subjective. Maybe the teacher is on to me. Maybe she knows I'm not like her other students. They write about love and cheesy emotional crap. I write about the irony and stupidity of English classes. What can I say, I like to be fresh... but not too fresh.

The smell is getting stronger, but at least it takes away my appetite. In an hour I'll report to 295. They'll tear my work apart and call me a failure. Whatever. I can run circles around those clowns.

Life is getting monotonous. I wake up every day between eight and ten. On days like this I'll just sit around and wait for something to happen. But it's always the same. Go to class. Go to work. Fill the hours in between with naps, books, and season premieres that I missed. It's nothing to brag about but it's life, and it keeps me going. But I know it's not forever. There's always a twist. I can feel one coming, and it ain't just that 10k on Saturday my little sister got me into. Something's about to happen. What can a man do but wait for it?

Now I'm thinking of those Samosas I ate yesterday. Not bad. That was a break from the monotony. What is life, but a long string of monotony punctuated by periods of exaltation and great misfortune? That's what we get for being creatures of habit. Just like the words on this blog... sentence after sentence in no seeming rank. What's the difference between one sentence and the next except the words? Would we be happy any other way? I don't think we'd look forward to stuff as much as we do if we experienced it every day. So what am I looking forward to? Maybe that something that is about to happen. Maybe it's not a good thing. Then again, if it's a misfortune, then I can always write about it. Sometimes people like that stuff. Sometimes they laugh. I know Jonny does. Good-for-nothing Jonny sittin on his high throne at the headhunter's.

Maybe that's what I'm waitin for. November is a long time away. At least a few essays away. They'll see... it's gonna blow 'em away.

The smell of sunblock is back. I decide to get my files in order.

Lose Much?

Imagine my voice to be Dustin Hoffman's for this entry.

This week has been a string of utter domination! I began by wiping everyone up on pick-up basketball and then ping pong! Then I killed all those rookies in volleyball!! Then our intramural flag football team ACTUALLY WON!!! (insert confetti and hallelujah chorus here) Hoowah, I'm just gettin warmed up! I'm done...

Ok, back to my voice:
Yes indeed, team Spizzerinctum won their first game against a ward team that only showed up with six players! Who cares about the numbers... the real issue here is: WATCH OUT COME NOVEMBER PUNY BABIES AND WIMPY PLOOFBALLS! SOMEone (and I'm not sayin' who) is gonna be in SHAPE!!

Prose and Cons (Snicker)

Once upon a time in a place that is now simply a patch of air high above the graveyard of Deseret Towers I had a very unique roommate. This person came from a very affluent family from the east coast, so despite the nerdiness we shared, we had a lot of difficulty communicating. I suppose such aristocrats didn't mingle with commoners as myself. I vowed that year to never become one of his kind--those unbalanced, hoity-toity, speaking-with-a-lisp, grammar-nazi, English majors.

English major.

Six years and several D's later, I am here... taking stylistic criticism, rhetorical analysis, creative writing, and British literature history... very much an English major. Why would I ever thtoop to thuch a level?

Well, when I first moved in to my new apartment, we didn't have a TV. I was kind of excited about the idea of having to read to fill my free time... I am currently residing in the fantastic and eerily-similar-to-Harry-Potter world of Percy Jackson. Rick Riordan is a bit juvenile, but also very clever. I mean, he gave Charybdis braces!! That's the kind of creativity I most enjoy!

As such, with my new creative writing class, I am required to write poetry... my least favorite form of literature. I have done it before... I once wrote a lament for the Astros of 2004 who last in game seven to the Cards. Perhaps another Yao Ming injury will provide ample inspiration... jinx!!

Oh yeah, I really thought the title of this entry is one of my best yet. Punny, no?

Randumb Ramblings Inspired by Disney

I just watched Beauty and the Beast with my nephew and niece for the first time in probably 6 years or so. They added a new song? You may not believe that it has been so long since I watched the movie because I have a thing for quoting Gaston as a sort of a facade to the facade of having overconfidence in myself. That one may take a while to mull over in your mind... the facade of a facade. Of course I can't make the fancy "c" required to correctly spell the word... TANGENT!!

So I discovered that this Disney movie is a prime example of Stockholm syndrome, and I think that we will one day see reality shows based on it. "Jenny must spend a week in a magical castle... with nothing to do but read and interact with the ill-tempered and shockingly hairy landlord!"

The other revelation I had while watching the movie is Belle is still my favorite princess. Rip my man card up and replace it with a certified creeper card, but I think that the beast is one lucky water buffalo... despite her being French.

Now comes the other tangent... After the movie I told Andrew and Lizzie that they would one day have their own Belle (or Beast, for the latter... snicker), and then I said that for Uncle Todd... who knows? I remember a day when it was a "when"... now it's an "if". I didn't think it would be this hard.

For instance, as I am preparing to go on a date, I feel... anxious. The most comparable feeling to getting ready for a date was getting ready for a football game in high school. I feel horribly under-skilled and outmatched in every position, but at the same time I can surprise myself... on a very seldom occasion. Both games, both very physically demanding, and both are over in a few hours. Then you get that good feeling sort of like after you finished throwing up... it just feels so much better after you're done.

Blue/Green/Salmon/Melon/Orange/Periwinkle

So that's it, right? No more polos... perhaps ever. I have a plan for this point out, and it no longer leaves my summertime open.
What do I have to show from three summers of EFY? Well, first of all, these summers are not about me. It doesn't matter if I didn't get anything from the many weeks of tiring hours and little profit. As long as the youth go home with something, then it's ok. And there is pretty much no way any counselor goes home without having gained something.

After 14 weeks total over 3 years, I have seen both sides of this program. If I were to focus on the negative aspect (in my view, strictly opinion), I would see a bunch of teenagers who come to this camp for social reasons and minor spiritual aspirations. I would see the tears at the end of the week and despair that the children think only of their basest of relations and don't focus on the greater relationships of life, like the one with your Savior and your family. I would see a bunch of attention craving and obnoxious college students who revert to a level of maturity experienced long ago... and I would be part of that. I would see the cliques and clapping and cheering and dancing and gossiping and I would wonder where the true purpose has gone.

And I would only scratch the surface. The positive is so much heavier, but so much deeper and more difficult to perceive. Will these boys remember? Has the spirit spoken to them as it did to me when I was at their age?

Two years ago I had a group, "Being Alone", which was so phenomenal that they got their very own post on my blog in addition to a spot in the one post of amalgamated EFY memories. Of those twelve boys from that week, eleven are on their mission (with the 12th being a possibility, though I no longer have contact with him). One comes home relatively soon. For this alone, my many weeks with the tools and eccentricities of the staff seem wonderfully bearable. And again, this is only a scratch on the surface.

If I Were A Part of the Justice League

So a few weeks ago, right before I left for Logan EFY, I was at home one Saturday morning getting ready to go knock some doors and fix some chips... then I started watching Justice League Unlimited on youtube. Five hours later, I decided I wasn't going to go knock doors that day. Woops.
Thus I got started on this big DC kick lately, and the theme carried over to EFY. Our get-to-know-you question was "If you were a super hero, what power would you have and why?"

So here it is: if I were a part of the Justice League, I would be named Hizzazz, and my power would be that I could make any person on this whole freakin planet happy just by smiling at them. No better way to destroy your enemies than to make them your friends, right Abe Lincoln? I would wear a white zuit suit, complete with fedora and suspenders, and when I started dancing swing (which is my ultimate power) people would go blind from pure awesomeness!!
I guess I wouldn't be much of a match for the Joker...
So there you have it. Some of the other leaguers might call me sissy... but I would call myself suave. If only...

Now, if I were a supervillain, part of the INJustice League if you would, I would have the power to fog up glass. Some of you may have heard this before and already had the sinister possibilities explained to you, but in case you haven't... I could be really mean and fog up the windows of cars and planes so people get in wrecks and stuff, or fog the glosses of nerdy people so they become even more awkward. Then again, I would take it a sinister step further and fog up the glass of the frozen food sections in grocery stores, SO PEOPLE COULDN'T FIND THE ICE CREAM THEY WANTED TO BUY!! HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!!
Then again, some of you may think that they could simply open the door and look, but come on... what a hassell!
Oh yeah, my name would be Razzlefest, and my outfit would change from day to day (gasp) with the only constant being a spiky helmet... or galoshes.

Thus it is! Then again, there is always Adventure Haver... but he's real. This is all about imagination. Pure imagination!

Que en el Mundo!?

So I told my boys about three weeks ago that I was hanging up the polo shirt for keeps. Time to move on in life. No more hanging out with 14-yr.-olds as my primary social life.
And then I get a call today offering me another week in Logan. It starts on Sunday. I'm just thinking, "Man, this joke never gets old does it."
I could have said no and tried to get by on fixing rock chips. But.... I decided to do what I do best: act really spazzy and be liked for it!
By all means, I still fix rock chips! So if you need any help on your windshield, I'll do it for free. Seriously. I'm not gonna tell you how cause I don't wanna solicit on my blog, even if I just did.
P.S. I work for George Bush. How many of you can say that?

Do you ever look back on your old blogs or journal entries and think your past self to be incredibly foolish?? Stupid Todd, you thought you were gonna write for the Daily Unipharse! Stupid Todd, you thought you could include the word "pants" in every single journal entry! Stupid Todd, you thought you were done with EFY.

One day when I look back on this entry, I will think how stupid Todd was for blogging about stupid Todd of the past. That'll be the day when I'm flying around in a turbo-car that my uber rich Polynesian wife bought for me to get me off my addiction to inhaling dishwasher fumes. Woa, randumb.

Book of the Man of Little Consequence

Chapter 8:

1. And the days of the summer ran low, and the man of little consequence felt the time running away as sand through the fingers of time.
2. And in those days he would often go forth from door to door as a cheap beggar, and offer a service that was indeed necessary, but not oftenly so. And the word oftenly may be deemed a mistranslation.
3. But the days were hot, and the walking made him faint and the sun beat upon his forehead as if he were a red-headed stepchild.
4. And there were some who would rebuke him for his begging, for they had a fixed resolution against strangers that would stand at their doors and knock. For this the man did mourn, for he was saddened when others hated him without truly knowing him, or even ever reading his blog.
5. So he was determined to find a new way of his begging, and this way would not replace the old way, but fulfill it.
6. But the Lord sought to teach him patience, and made him forgetful and caused the printer at his sister's to run out of ink.
7. And after a fruitless day the man did weep and wail and gnash his teeth, and he sought out small creatures to exact arbitrary vengeance upon.
8. But after this he was humbled, and sat down in sackcloth and ashes in front of his computer and vented his feelings through mock scripture.
9. Thus began his psalm:

10. The Lord has taught me patience this day, but tomorrow is another day, and I thirst anyway, so bring on the rain!
11. But may I now discount this last statement, and not only for copywright purposes, but also because it occurreth to me that my trials are indeed small.
12. For on the morrow I shall raise my head from my pillow (which calleth to me now) and choose happiness, and then shall I go forward with cheer like a whimsical advertising slogan.
13. And though I am tender-eyed and the ladies look but once then cast their eyes about for something more attractive or expensive, I have been given skills such as Bo-Staff skills and Pumbelling* skills and FreeCell skills that surely they would adore had they knowledge of.
14. Thou thought that thou wouldst make it through a chapter without the mention of ladies, didst thou? I say unto thee, it is not so.
15. And the Lord has placed the place of dog-foodish cheap things to eat (or as some would say, Taco Bell) upon this earth, that despite the pangs to my stomach the taste still lingers in my mouth that cost me so little.
16. For though the lady told others at the counter to have a great day, unto me she wished that my proceedings would be... awesome.

17. And after this silly and meaningless and rather uninspired psalm, the man of little consequence went forth and sought from that time forward to make his life... awesome.
18. But not until he rested for a night. Brethren, adieu.

*Footnote: derived from the English word "Pummel" meaning the random punishments dealt out to those smaller than the man of little consequence, particularly his nephews

Book of the Man of Little Consequence

Chapter 7:

1. And it came to pass that on the seventh day of the seventh month, the seventh child did write the seventh chapter.
2. And seven, being regarded as a number of perfection and completeness, was the main theme.
7. Therefore the chapter was translated for its perfection, and the audience could perceive it not.

Disappointment to the Billionth Degree!

Have you ever looked forward to something so much for a while and then it finally comes around and it lets you down?
If only I could put into words how much the Last Airbender movie was a universal disappointment... but I refuse to use the Utahn word "epic", even though it seems entirely appropriate on this occasion.
I am a big fan of the cartoon series. In fact, I think it might be my favorite cartoon series, so when they said that a live action movie was coming out and being directed by that Shyamalan guy, I was stoked. Then the previews came out and showed some pretty tight action and I got a little more stoked. Then I actually saw the movie and almost choked myself.
Just put it this way:
I would rather shove pencils in my eyes than watch that movie again!
I would rather wipe my bum with sand paper than watch that movie again!
I would rather watch Eclipse than watch that movie again!

I mean, putting a whole season of the cartoon into one live action movie is quite a feat. Understandably, the director or writer had to cut a lot of stuff out. But the movie was only an hour and fourty-three minutes. EVERYTHING was cut out of the middle. Lord of the Rings did a few 2+ hour movies and they worked... And not only that, the characters were undeveloped and the dialogue was choppy and dry. The movie was mainly humorless and the action, though decent, was overdramatic most of the time. The Fire Nation soldiers actually reminded me often of the puddies from the old Power Rangers show, with their flailing arms and dancing about behaviors.
And it wasn't only the hard core fans like myself who were disappointed. Every other person who left that theater, including my friends and roommates, were also expressing their surprise at just how awful the movie turned out to be.

And here come some very specific spoiler disappointments, so if you're still planning on wasting your time with this Dungeon and Dragonesque corniness, then I'd advise you to read no further.
The fire nation were all Indians. Where did they get that idea? The Water Tribe were all white people... what? Only the Earth Kingdom were appropriately Asians. Zhao was a femmy and eccentric weasel, as compared to the out-of-control and powerful maniac he was in the cartoon (voiced by Jason Isaacs), Sokka was a carbon copy of Zuko (angry and intense) with the pony tail being a bit much for me to swallow, and Aang was also just a depressed kid. Where was the fun? And if you're looking forward to seeing any of these characters, know that they all failed to make an appearance: Boomi, Suki, Jet, Jeong Jeong, Roku, the inventor people, and all of Jet's gang.

And amidst this scathing review, I have one positive note to add: the sets were pretty.

So if I was any of you reading this, I would wait for the dollar theater at most to see this. But maybe you should not taint the magic of the original series at all and just forgo seeing it altogether. Moral of the story: it's extremely difficult to turn an epic cartoon series (Gasp! I used the word) into a live action movie. Remember Dragon Ball Evolution? I've actually never seen the cartoon myself, but I've seen the movie and got a similar feel from it...

The "Yes" Summer

This whole "yes" business is difficult when you don't have spendin' cash.
Yakkity yak! (Don't talk back)
Anyways, if you've ever seen the "Yes Man" movie starring Jim Carried-Away, I've decided to follow his fictional example, except within reason. It's time to say yes to things.
"Hey Todd, wanna go play paintball?"
"Yes!"
"Hey Todd, wanna go streaking through EFY on campus?"
"Yes!"
"Hey Todd, wanna go hit up the clubs in SLC?"
"Yes!"
Actually, I wouldn't say yes to any of these. Now all you haters are gonna be like, "Then you're not a real Yes Man!"
That's ok. You're right. I don't wanna be a real 'yes' man that does insane things for the sake of principle. Instead, I will say yes to most ward activites (that fall in my budget) to any invitations from friends or roommates (that fall in my budget) and to any dates that any girls will ask me on (provided that they pay). Ok, disregard the last one, it was just for kicks and giggles.
So, when I have ALL this time on my hands, I figure I got no excuses to bailin on anything.
If the Krogues are reading this, know this: I did go to the Scera Park today. I got as far as the front gate and they wanted me to pay 5 bucks to get in, so I was like, "Forget you!" and I ninja kicked them in the face and disappeared in a cloud of smoke. That's probably why you didn't see me.
Yes please!

Life... On an Impulse

So a lot has happened in the past few weeks. Foremost and first, I returned to Utah. Yup. 23 hours of driving all by my lonesome. It was surprisingly fun and fast (though I was a little nostalgic missing the times with my parents and listening to the bromance of Tamareire and Lawrence). I stopped in Albuquerque and stayed at a hotel all by myself for the first time. I got in around 10, but I thought it was eleven because neither my phone nor Susan (my GPS) had switched time zones with me. So I watched a crappy movie (Jumper) and then I went to sleep and woke up at 7:15, which was actually 6:15, had some breakfast and moved on to my new house in Provo.
Why did I come to Utah? There are several reasons. The principle reason for it being so soon was mainly for the opportunity I had to work some. The day after my arrival back home I went to UVU to ref for the junior girl's basketball camp.
I think I've vented enough about my frustrations about being an official. Know this: it gets worse outside of intramurals. I could have easily tossed out the fans/players/"coaches" for unsportsmanlike conduct at BYU, but in the regular world, I guess that's what people expect. I decided I want a job where not everyone hates me. That means sales, politics, and parking enforcement are out of the question.
So I had a few interview opportunities, but to no end yet. Then I got an email on Wednesday asking me to come be a counselor in Logan in three days.
Why not? Let's go put the polos on and do the line dances ONE LAST TIME!
And, after an amazing week, I was bone tired but feeling good. I am back now to regular life and the harsh reality that I am yet unemployed.
Let the sun break on the horizon! What new adventures lie in store yet for the summer? At this time, I will impulsively follow whatever opportunities knock on my door. Shibang shibang!

Some Things in Life are Certain

What's up with all these Asians spammin' on my blog?
Spammin on my blog?
Spammin on my blog?
All these Asians be spammin on my blog!
It may seem viral
and it may seem wrong,
but all these Asians be spammin on my blog!
So I'm watchin my shows
with bogeys in my nose
and my friend Jake goes
"Man your bogeys looking gross"
And all the ladies knows
cause they hangin from my nose

I ain't the one to blame
for this crazy lady game
that is puttin me to shame

And now my English is broke
cause i gotta make this flow

Spammin on my blog...
That just ain't cool
Dawg.

There is no charge.

And just for kicks and giggles, here's one of my all time favorite commercials!


Good night from Utah! I'll be here all week! Seriously, I will.

The Adventures of Adventure Haver!

Volume 1:
Warning, extreme nerdage and cheesiness is about to ensue, so if you need that cool feeling back after reading this, be sure to go pick on some little children, preferably those who wear glasses and denim shorts.


Now I get to the story. I had heard reports of a nasty treant that was threatening the neighborhood of Angel Grove... I mean Angleton. This sounded like a job for... (insert sound effect here) ADVENTURE HAVER!!
So I arrived early in the morning on the perpetrators doorstep. It was a pine. A pine ent. You know, an ent like those crazy walking trees on Lord of the Rings. Luckily, I was prepared. Before that stupid ent could even react, I had a ladder on its haunches and I was perched in its blind spot up in its own branches. Come to think of it, I've never seen eyes on an ent. Maybe they just feel vibrations like a spider in its web.
This ent was furious! It was still looking for revenge for Ferngully. I had to scrap this wood, but it wouldn't be easy. Then again, anything is easy with my plus four Echo gasoline powered deluxe laser chainsaw straight from the Man Factory. Ok, maybe there was no laser involved with the chainsaw, but what is an adventure without lasers? Or explosions? We'll get to those.
So I hacked off the monster's head with my chainsaw and much to my surprise, the whole tree exploded! We're talking like nuclear Chuck Norris explosion! I took the brunt of the blast and saved some cowering squirrels, and was afterward heralded as a great hero! Unfortunately, the explosion gave me a concussion and knocked me out for nearly two minutes so I couldn't even enjoy the rhino-floppin loads of honeys that showered me with praise. I was awarded 70 gillion dollars by the CIA though.
You were good, Mr. Ent, but you weren't fast enough for... (sound effect) ADVENTURE HAVER!!!
Until next time kids! PUNT!!

My Favorite Folk Parody Band from Zoo Kneeland

I giggle a lot when I watch these guys. Maybe you'll giggle some too... as long as you stick with the cleaner ones. Most of them are pretty clean...

Anyways, I stand by the truth that you can start quoting Jenny nearly anywhere in this world, and someone around you will start right in with you, like it's the worlds best inside joke that links us all together. BAM, instant friends!

So be sure to practice

A True Texan

This is now the fourth summer in a row that I've returned to Texas for one reason or another. What can I say, the Lone Star gives the call and I must heed! Not really... I've always had my reasons for coming home, and such remains the same for my current stay.
What reasons you ask?
Perhaps I get so sick of the snow and dryness that I must seek the environmental opposite by returning to swampy gulf coast weather.
Perhaps I am so afraid of my grades from finals that I vacate the state like some academic fugitive. I feel like the BYUKGB is coming after me for scholastic under-achievement. Fortunately, they never leave the Provo bubble.
Perhaps I am afraid of a seriously lop-sided diet, knowing the next bowl of macaroni could literally kill me for overdosing on powdered generic brand cheese. At home, my mom actually cooks vegetables, so I get some vitamins...
Perhaps I just wanted to be somewhere where I felt like I knew what my niche in society was. Then I actually came home and realized that didn't change.

My stay in Texas has brought back the usual charms of home on the range. Tonight I played dodgetennis with my nephews and got my face chewed off by mosquitoes. The last few days I have sweated... A LOT! And the lawn grows awfully fast.

I did get a few weeks for EFY, but only a few is not enough to sell me on a summer of otherwise nothingness, especially if those weeks are in Flagstaff, Arizona.

Hangin Out With Smeagol

I took my last final today. You know, I did really well of finals this year. If only I would stop forgetting to turn in really important assignments...
Ha, "It's not my fault, I forgot!" That was my excuse for everything growing up. Sometimes it was true.
Anyways, on the tests that I know about, I got an 88 and an 84. I tried so hard to get an A on either one!!! I seriously don't think I've gotten an A on a test since I last took a religion class. I'm just not meant for this school thing. Maybe I should just learn a trade, like welding or croquet.
Two blind dates this week. Both named Melissa. Coincidence? I think so...
So now I have all this time on my hands and nothing to do... I could pack or clean my car, but that'll get old real quick.
What I'm tryin to say, I guess, is "I think I'm ready for another adventure!"

Reflections of a Retired Official... Again!

Well, Tuesday marked my last day of work. I only had one hour, and I reffed the Division 3 men's championship where one of my former bishopric member's went home with a t-shirt.
And so it was... until Fall comes around.
Now we look back on the good times of the year... and then I say to myself, "Wow, I've already blogged so much about the funny/interesting/annoying stuff of officiating this year that I've got nothing else to say!"
Except this: Last Wednesday I had a full-blown reconciliation meeting with the guys who followed me home. I went with the intention of getting the meeting over with as soon as possible and delivering the message that I really held nothing against them for their one act of thoughtless impulsiveness. I let this be known pretty much right away in our little get together, but the fellow running the whole business (an old, mellow gentleman who gets paid to be old and mellow) had a much longer process in mind... a much longer and much more official process.
So the guys issued formal apologies, and very sincere I might add. At least, it felt sincere. I told them that I had much worse on my mission, and as long as they weren't Lakers fans, they were already forgiven. (They were from California, but they were not on the dark side... in fact they were anti-Jazz fans!) Whatever they did didn't matter anymore, except for the suspensions they have to fill come Fall semester. And now it's all over, and they will be ever more respectful and keep cooler heads during their games. We could use more players like them.
I've always thought that you can tell a lot about a man by his actions on the basketball court. Exercising self-control to the degree of keeping your temper and irrationality in check while still having a competitive edge is one of the highest degrees of self-mastery, in my opinion. That's why girls are so much more spiritual than guys. I mean, how often do you see one of them resort to absolute carnality in the heat of a basketball game?
You can quote me on that one.
Ultimately, this year with the stripes has been surprisingly rewarding. As much as I complain and share the stories of the bad ones, there were a whole lot of good ones who told us, "Hey, you guys did a good job." And we always did a good job. This growing multitude of generally good guys is joined by the losing team of the Division 3 championship (as well as the winning team, I reffed them about abigilion times and they rarely complained), and by my three new friends on Facebook, two of which were riding in a Blue Sedan a few weeks ago.

Warm fuzzies all around!!!

Win Much?

You know, if it wasn't for Crash Team Racing, my nephews, or games of 21 no-tips with Colin and Justin, I'd think I never win at anything!
Take a look at my fantasy team. I only lost twice during the regular season, and the second loss was because I didn't sub anyone in. Now here I am, ousted in the first round. For the record, I placed Kevin Durant at my number two draft pick because I had a feeling (that's higher than any player except Lebron James). I also made all the right moves during the regular season, acquiring Chris Anderson and Jamal Crawford, and holding onto a hurt Ginobli. Then I made all the wrong moves in the post-season, like not sticking with Roy Hibbert and Beno Udrih. And Baron Davis up and gets hurt too...
So brag all you want, Jonny Bravo. The game is all luck, and you got lucky.
Then my volleyball team for my volleyball class. We keep getting ahead, then choking away five or ten point leads. I think it's me. I am a virus. Whatever team I am on doesn't do well. I mean, look at my high school and intramural record! (My intramural record, between 4 seasons of basketball, 2 of football, 1 of soccer, and 1 of water polo, is about 5 wins and however many losses the rest of those games constitute... which is somewhere in the vicinity of 50). Oh yeah, add one loss for the one game of Ultimate I played on Ziggy's team.
Well, what can I say? You know the saying, "You win some, you lose some". In my case it would probably be, "You win some, but you lose a whole lot more than 'some' ".

I'm Just Free-Stylin'

The other night a kid called me the "worst official ever". I don't believe him. I mean, has he even known all the officials ever? I doubt it... And then I got a written apology from the drive-by offenders. Last thing I'm gonna say about officiating here...

So I spent the weekend with my favorite Pumbel Penguin, and then I get to again for General Conference. Always something to look forward to! I also slept through two of my classes because my alarm went off, and I convinced myself to stay a few more minutes, when all of the sudden I was on an airplane, headed to somewhere in Utah, and because of some kid's handicap we had to land on the high-way and taxi to our destination, which was gonna take a really long time because the pilots had to get out and wipe the snow off the windshield numerous times. I was sleeping pretty nicely because I had lots of room, the two seats next to me were vacant at the moment, but some black kids behind me put ice on my head, so I looked at J.B. next to me and he shrugged and said, "I don't know. It could happen." Then I woke up and it was 8:40. I missed my first two classes. Bummer.
But I did get to eat some Crispix for breakfast! I LOVE CRISPIX!!

Message to the Man in the Blue Sedan

At the end of a seemingly uneventful shift on Saturday morning, I was driving home. Someone honked. I looked in my rear view mirror and noticed a blue sedan with two guys in it. No big deal, the honk must have been directed at someone else... As I am walking up to my door, I hear a very loud and long car horn, and turn around to see that same blue sedan giving me a drive by birdie with the guy sticking out the front passenger window yelling a certain p-word I will not repeat here. Let's just say of both of the times I have been called names after the game, the antagonizers are surprisingly consistent with their choice of words.
I reported them, of course. Following me home is a type of threatening behavior. I didn't mind the name calling or the birdie so much; it actually took me back to my days in Sacramento.

Following me home though? Come on guys! We even reffed a terribly favorable game for you (and yet you still lost, so I understand why you are upset). A quick technical on the winning team, and eventually fouling out one of their players so they no longer could put 5 on the floor. But still, you had to follow me home. I'll probably be seeing you again sometime soon though. No hard feelings, really.

Oh Happy Day!

I am still a firm believer that there are no bad days. Only days when bad things happen.
I should have known it would have been one of those days when I was dreaming about hanging on the edge of my bed, so I roll to get back on. Turns out I rolled the wrong way. On the bright side, I didn't hit my head on the dresser on my way down!
I was looking forward to our playoff game tonight, but I felt I should check the schedule one last time. Woops... our game was on Tuesday! So much for our season. Who was the genius who misread the schedule in the first place and spread all that false information? Yours truly. On the bright side, we avoided the embarrassment of showing up to a game we weren't invited to, fans and all.
Notre Dame lost. I had them in my final four. On the bright side, go Cougars!
I had a bum ankle and my whistle was sucking all four hours of reffing tonight. On the bright side, it was lady's night, and we didn't throw anybody out!
So, altogether, not a bad day really.

My Life is Regular

Today I asked my friend what sound a cat makes when you step on it. He said "squish". My life is regular.

Today I was half asleep in class as we were watching a movie. I wasn't conscious enough to control my bowels, but I was conscious enough to realize I let one rip really loud, and that people started to laugh around me. I pretended I was still asleep. My life is regular.

Today Donny Osmond's son played piano and sang in our class just because he wanted to. What a tool. My life is regular.

Today I read a bunch of MLIA posts and decided to do some of my own, though only one of these things actually happened today. My life is regular.

Dream Journal

Wierd dreams lately... and a wierd spelling of wierd.

So, I dreamt last night that I was back in Texas and playing soccer on my bike with my nephews. This was a really long dream and it deprived me of a good night's sleep. I was feelin all nostalgic.

Then, I had another dream that I got pulled over in the back roads of Provo by this blonde cop, who gave me a citation for driving ten miles UNDER the speed limit, and then another one for stopping in the road when I saw a cop pulling me over. Both citations would cost me $190 combined. I was furious! I remember being so furious with the system and their 'performance standard'! I don't think I've ever been that angry in real life.

Then I had a dream last night that Waylon fell out again. You know, Waylon, my tooth. That means I have about 6-15 days left before that vision comes about.

So every night I've had these vivid and random types of dreams, and it leaves me to wonder... is it something I ate (like spaghetti sauce seasoning that expired in 2007), or is the Lord trying to tell me something... hmmmm....

Gotta go, peer review time.

Guys Vent Too, You Know

So there was this game tonight that I was reffing. Most games go by with a bit of talking, a bit of yipping, and that's ok... nobody's perfect. When a player approaches me with specific things that we are consistently missing, then I am grateful, believe it or not. Seriously, I understand I don't see everything with my own two eyes.
With this in mind, there is also a very wrong way to approach a referee. Take tonight for example... at the halftime of an intensely physical game we pull the captains aside and lay down the law. "You need to understand that we are the refs and we make the judgment calls." And one captain replies simply: "Ok, then start reffing" and the other captain, "Ya, at least we agree on something", and they shake hands and walk off, and I continue to quote, "Ya, we're not mad at you guys" (to the other captain), and they go off talking about how much the refs suck.
I felt inclined to T them up right then and there. But knowing there are articles floating around in the Daily Universe about how intramural refs are hypersensitive and too quick on the T's, I held off. However, I decided right then and there to give them what they wanted. For the first time in my reffing career, I called every single ticky-tacky would-be-a-foul-in-a-granny's-game contact, and wouldn't you know both of those captains fouled out. One of them did get a technical foul, as a result of another technical foul, as a result of a foul not called... it's amazing how it builds up so fast!
Wow, you were right all you critical BYU students who are better at reffing than the refs themselves. We ARE lousy and hypersensitive! And who cares what our superiors tell us about keeping order in the game, you payed a fraction of 30 bucks to be there tonight and enjoy your moments of glory in the next best thing to the NBA: intramural middle division ball. And you know what, why don't we just invent a time machine so we can go back in time whenever you tell us we missed a call and do it your way, the right way.
In all honesty, and no sarcasm now, I was worried that my job as a referee would really sour me on BYU this year. It hasn't... yet. Most games the people have really displayed more maturity than the average person, and it helps that we have more experienced officials this year than probably ever before. Still, articles like this don't help at all. I would reply, but that wouldn't go anywhere, I know. This Carlson guy (and a few of the commentators) only solidifies the notion that most people revert to the natural man on the basketball court--that being selfish and egocentric. This explains their need to blame their misfortunes on others, and if everybody's blaming the refs, it only seems the natural thing to do.
If we look at this in a spiritual light, heaven forbid, I see myself as one trying to keep order in a recreational game. Order is the way of heaven, is it not? So, with that in mind, we don't always do the best job of keeping a game in order. But you must understand that you have to help us, not hurt us (everyone else). You are the one promoting the spirit of contention with your fighting, arguing, bickering, punching, obscenity shouting, and writing of spiteful articles dwelling on some past wrong like a childish grudge (I'm sorry, it wasn't advice, it was venting on a mistake that an official made). Yes, now I am the one pointing the finger.
The world is full of jerks. What can one do when surrounded by rampant selfishness and utter disregard for one's neighbor? I will stand on my soap-box and preach at you all that you have the agency to start at the basketball games. Choose a higher path! You don't have to be like the rest of the world! The church doesn't have to have the reputation that it does with church ball! I have made this choice already. It isn't easy, I assure you, but it is doable. I know the refs miss calls, but they are not missed out of malice or spite against me personally, or my teammates. Ineptitude certainly, but this is easily forgivable and even more easily remedied. Unfortunately, that remedy and forgiveness eludes most of the Christian world. If you are telling yourself right now that this is simply impossible, you are part of the problem.
There. Consider yourself lectured. Too bad Christian Carlson won't be reading this (did you catch the irony with his name?)

Chuggin Along and Fighting Raptors

Life has some weeks which you foresee are going to be crazy busy. This semester has been full of them. Then again, compared to last semester, every day is crazy busy.
However, when life is crazy busy, it is stressful and causes anxiety, but it also feels so good... I think they call that eustress. If I was ever to start a counciling firm of any type, I would call it "You-Stress", and fill people's lives with good habits until they became crazy busy. Hugs all around!

So, about last week. Well, there was this one instance where I was reffing in the trail position (which is on the perimeter of the 3-point line), and I was watching my area and this guy totally throws me the ball. Not having the reflexes to dodge, or to even not catch the ball, I catch the ball... and I stand there for a few seconds as the players wonder what I am going to do. I wonder what I am going to do too... Then I think of a solution: Why don't I play the ball as if I didn't have the reflexes of a sloth! So I toss the ball over my shoulder and call it out-of-bounds and the team that mistaked me for their teammate.
I later realized that was a bad call... sorry team that mistaked me for their teammate.
But what is with me? People are always throwing me the ball thinking I am their teammate! It happened again today (which marks about the fifth time so far this semester), but I certainly didn't catch it! Nope, I took it right in the chest. It hurt. The ball stayed in play and the team got it back. Hooray.
Moving on with last week, I visited one of my oldest friends who recently returned from her mission. She made Dutch food which was excellemente, and then we watched Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, which made me giggle... a lot! Then we danced to milli vanilli youtube videos. Blamin' it on the rain, baby!
So I got home and compulsively decided to go to a Country Dance shindig at the wilk, which was fun. That's the first time I've been dancing this year, so I was a bit rusty. Most girls just laughed at me. Hooray.
Then on Friday I had a date. Hooray.
Apart from all this, Lost started up again, I played more volleyball, taught a Sunday school lesson where I depicted Cain as Hayden Christiansen, wrote a song about "Bogeys in my nose", went to the temple, worked out twice, and got several papers done. And I reffed some more. And I babysat. Crazy busy. Hooray.
So after a week like this, I feel so good that it's done! Then again, it was rather enjoyable, but still good to be over with. Sometimes I get so backed up with obligations and assignments I feel like I am on a fast train and velociraptors are jumping on from all sides. I shoot the raptors off the train with some kind of laser gun, but they just keep piling on. Somehow, I always manage to escape the raptor's clutches, but I don't think the swarm will ever end. If they do represent responsibilities in all it's shapes and forms, then they will only get more numerous as life goes on.
Of course, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Doppleganger Week

So there was this "doppleganger" week on facebook, in which everyone posts a picture of a celebrity that they've been told they look like... or that they believe they look like. It got me thinking-who do I look like?
Once upon a time, in a galaxy far far away, some girl told me I looked like Hayden Christiansen. That's ok I guess, as long as I don't act like him.
More accurately, this is what I believe a combination of would best suit me:

A bit of creepy pirate

And a bit of suave

Throw in a bit of Smeagol to balance out the looks and I think you've got me!


My birthday is coming up, so I issue a challenge to any ninjas reading this right now! You bring your ninja pals, I'll bring my pirate buddies... we'll see who is more powerful. LASER ASSAULT!!

Great Workout Music

After 30 seconds, don't worry... it's the same thing for the whole minute and a half.

Surprise Surprise.

The other night I had yet another nightmare of my teeth falling out and me breaking down and crying as a result. Really crying... I felt the sorrow and despair of my dreams, and can still bring that dark feeling to memory.
Now, I find that these dreams are quite prophetic. You guessed it, I was flossing tonight, and I barely applied any pressure and POP goes the bridge! By divine providence, it didn't go down the open drain in the sink.
Some of you may say that I need a new dentist, and my luck is as bad as Jon's. I would disagree on both accounts. I think they just like me so much in that office that they rig my dental work to insure I will return every few weeks or so. He puts it back in for free anyways.
Missing a bridge, however, is missing two of my front teeth, and it's even more hideous than before. The bright side is that I can put it back in and it stays pretty solid as long as I'm not eating... or flossing. So much for those lunch dates for this weekend!
Dear reader, do you want me to post a picture? It's pretty hideous!

If Only Life was Like the Movies...

I celebrate this my 150th post by eating a frosty. I think I am ready to rank frosties up there with lemon-scented dishwasher soap and cucumber ranch and muppets.
Now my frosty is gone and I am sad.

If only life was like the movies...
I could live in Willy Wonka's chocolate factory and have these cups that were magically enhanced to never run out of frosty. Pure imagination...

If only life was like the movies...
Arguments would end with some table-turning decisive comment or point, and the victor (me) would walk triumphantly away with ensuing awe at my awesomeness. Nope, people are just too bone-headed, especially on the basketball court.

If only life was like the movies...
All these girls would have a strong and secret admiration for the quiet nice guy, despite his obvious disadvantages. Nope, girls only like the cocky tools who consistently put themselves in the spotlight.

If only life was like the movies...
Then I would know that after a $130 traffic citation, a dwindling banking account, and miserable grades, everything would turn out with a smashing happy ending. But life provides no such guarantees. Albeit I am a happy person, some things would be nice to be different.

If only life was like the movies...
I could have a T-shirt with the word Pants on it. If only....

After 150 episodes, NCIS still has climbing ratings. I feel that my blog actually has less readership at this 150th post, but that's ok. You are reading this post right now, and that's what matters. I hope it makes your day better, and you can look in the mirror and say, "Gosh darn it, people like you!"

Book of The Man of Little Consequence

Chapter 6:

1. And it came to pass that the man of little consequence did return to his former employ like a dog to his vomit or a cat to his undigested hairball.
2. And the people did rail against him, and did mock him, and did spat upon him, and did threaten him.
3. Yea, the spatting was indeed an exaggeration, for what meaneth it to 'spat' anyways?
4. Nevertheless he did go forth with confidence, and despite the tauntings and stiffneckedness, the hours seemed to him but only a fewer amount of hours for the joy he had.
5. For he did lie in his mind so many times that he came to believe that the work of an official was indeed tolerable.
6. Thus we learn from the man of little consequence that if thou shalt act enthusiastic, than thou shalt be enthusiastic! Eventually...

7. Now in the sixth semester since the great journey to the land of vanity and pride (or as some would say, California), the man did take a stick and began to study it.
8. And the truth of which end was shorter yet eluded him, for it seemed that the cubits from one end to the other were equal, regardless of which end he started from.
9. And the question remained, and all his studyings of math were in vain.

10. And it came to pass again that the man of little consequence did revel in cliches, such as the beginning of this verse.
11. And for all his prosperity in schooling and work, he was yet of a sad countenance.
12. And his roommates wondered what it was that caused his countenance to fall, and he answered them in poetic lament:
13. "For all the riches and knowledge of this world are but emptiness to me, and are nought save for the one woman who will esteem me as greater than a little consequence,
14. "And as of yet, they are all either non-existant or undesirable."
15. And his roommates did berate him, saying:
16. "For thy shallowness, thou shalt be cursed above all the single men in the land,
17. "On the hands and knees shalt thou go, and in the bushes shalt thou hide all the remainder of thy days in the land of a thousand talents.
18. "And thou shalt wont only for what thou canst not have, and forever be as a man who dreameth and drinketh water in his dreams, but awakens and is yet parched, or as a man who eateth lasagna in his dreams and awaketh only to remember he is a lowly and impovershed college student."

19. And the man knew that they had not authority to curse him, yet the truth was still hard.
20. For this, he knew then that whatever end of the stick was in his hands would be deemed the short end.

*Disclaimer: The views reflected in this particular chapter are mostly fictitious for your enjoyment, and do not reflect the true manner of Todd, which, as you know, is quite perpetually cheerful.

I'll Show You Tough!

Don't show up drunk to auditions

You Win Some, You Lose Some

So, yesterday was full of disappointments... I got a citation for running a stop sign, and then found out my insurance was expired. On the bright side, I only got warnings for the insurance and my rear brake light being out.
Today was even better though! Remember that C-? I got it fixed! Oh blessed university, for once you cut me some slack.
Then tonight, it was back to the whistle and stripes. Oh, how I have forgotten the excitement I feel for every reffing game. Because I ended the sentence with a period and not an exclamation, you might realize that it was a sarcastic statement.
So I'm back now, settling down and getting ready for a gang of reading, but ultimately feeling like I really lost by the end of the day.
That's life, especially the life of a regular guy like me. You win some, you lose some.

Crazy Dreams

I had this crazy dream last night that I was reffing a college football game. I was in the referee position, which is the one about ten yards behind the offensive line, and I was having problems staying awake. In fact, I fell asleep a number of times, and my other much older fellow officials were teasing me for it. I also did not have my contacts in so I couldn't see anything, and I was wearing cowboy boots, which I was sure was not helping my professionalism. I remember thinking, "Wow, I am a joke right now... but I am reffing a college game, and it's gonna look great on my resume!"
So, Mr. Freud, tell me what I'm supposed to get from this?

Number Crunching Time

409 divided by 582 is .7027... yadda yadda yadda.
Now add 129.4 points to 409. That makes 538.4.
Divide 538.4 by 582 and you get .9250... yadda yadda yadda.

So, what's up with the nunbers Einstein? Well, let's take a look at what they represent, shall we class?

409 is the total amount of points awarded to Todd Martin for his Media Writing class last semester. The total points possible for that class is 582. Thus, his numerical grade was, you guessed it, 70.3%.

Upon further inspection of Blackboard's recordings of said grades, Todd Martin found that eight assignments were not recorded, so the points remained at zero. Of these eight assignments, 35 of those points were basically attendance points, and would have been awarded full credit. The other one hundred points were the four unrecorded lab assignments. Assuming Todd Martin made his average points on these 25 point assignments each (the average being 23.6 based on the other 7 lab grads), that would total 94.4 points total. Add the 35 given points, and that represents the 129.4, which would then bring Todd Martin's total earned points up to 538.4. What then, would be the difference if the faculty had not overlooked these assignments?

The answer is 22.2% total of the numerical grade. Instead of a 70% (C-), Todd Martin would have scored 92.5% (A-), since the class is not curved.

That's the difference between applying to the Communications program this semester and applying in September. That's the difference between at least two more semesters of tuition.

And I know what you're thinking now, "Todd, are you sure you did these assignments?" The answer is unequivocally YES!! I didn't miss any of these classes at all last semester, and I turned in every lab assignment in lab! Maybe, just maybe, I didn't turn in the active voice worksheet after I did it, but that's only 15 points. If every 5.82 points is 1% of the grade, that would have dropped me from the assumed 92% to 89%... a B+.

Now you're thinking, "Well, it's your responsibility to check your grades and alert the professor to anything missing." And you would be right to think so. Despite him having announced several times that he was aware that there were missing grades on blackboard and he was taking care of it, I still dropped the ball when I neglected to check my grades every day before Christmas and complain to him every day that they still were'nt there.

Perhaps now you see why I want to do my angry dance to class every day!

Of course, I did make a B- in Comms 101 two semesters ago. They won't even look at any application that has grades less than a B in that class, so I have to retake it anyways. So I won't apply til September anyways. So what in TARNATIONS am I making a case for, right?? RiGHT?
BUTTERFRICKLE!

Welcome to Walden's Pond

How come my imagination is so much cooler than this world? I'm going to spend a lot more time there this semester.