Racing Lightning

Some of you may be wondering why my bucket list is soooo small... Where's the ambition, right? Why even bother with a bucket list when there's only two grand goals of life?

First of all, I don't share all of my life's ambitions on a blog.
Secondly, perhaps it's because I am sooo ambitious that my bucket list is so small in the first place. Maybe I've already done most everything on there (besides the obvious--get married in the temple and raise my own basketball team and whatnot).
In fact, one of the items could have been become a famous author. Done and done. Reference? "A Booger Picker" written in 3rd grade by yours truly. It's about a kid who got made fun of for picking his boogers until he became the hero by making the girls squeal during quiet time, earning the boys earlier recess and lunch time. The elementary teachers still know me for that single work. The wikipedia page is coming soon.
Also, one of the items could have been to give such an epic wedgie that the underwear tears. Done and done... as of two Sundays ago.
Also, one of the items could have been to recover my dad's black painted astro-van with decorative flames from the car thief who took it. Done and done. I found it at the county fair where my best friend from high school had jacked it, and I introduced said friend to a nearby law enforcement officer. Boy did he feel sheepish! Of course, my dad doesn't really own a black astro-van with flames painted on it... in fact, all this happened in my dream last night, but that counts for my bucket list, right?
Also, one of those items could have been starring in a musical number as Galahad from "Spamalot." Not done... yet. Just wait til June...
Also, one of those items could have been writing a blog post on April 30th and stuff... done and...
Done.

Keep Reading, It Gets Weirder

I was standing outside the other night watching the lightning show and thinking how much I missed the thunderstorms of Texas... then I started scratching this itch on my arm and the thought actually went through my mind, "I hope this is some sort of terrible bug bite." I mean, if it wasn't then it was probably poison ivy. So far, it hasn't spread or anything.
Then I went outside--the smell of the fresh cut grass after rain, bringing in a windy cold front is very specific in this region. I realize I haven't smelt that smell in over eight years. The smell of springtime in Texas... it's so high school! Back in the days when Facebook wasn't even invented yet, kids still called each other on land lines, and the Houston Astros were a relevant team. I drove a 93 J30 Infinity with 350 thousand miles on it, the biggest social events I attended where stake dances, and my only care in the world was to get in to BYU to watch Crowton's Cougars fumble the ball to a frustrating degree.
Yes, this is another one of those pointless nostalgic posts.
Has it really been eight years since I've been home for my birthday, Halloween, general conference, or Easter? Big deal... 26 aint nothing (which I guess means it's something?), so why am I writing this post as if I'm having a mid-life crisis? I'm gonna live to be 120 after all. Maybe it's a mid-bachelorhood life crisis (and there was much weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth!).
Maybe it's the dreams I have of fighting ninjas... and losing.
Maybe I don't have a whole lot to write about so I'm getting repetitive and unoriginal.
Maybe I just like saying the word maybe...

BUT!
Since we're on the topic of unoriginality and stuff, let me just make a few comments on some things completely different:

That movie, Hunger Games, was real good. I've never seen a movie stay so true to the canon (the book). It's funny how the audience can get so offended when movies stray from the books they're based on, or vice verse when it comes to Lord of the Rings. Remember, people, it is a movie "based" on a book, not the book put directly into motion picture medium. But with this Hunger Games, it could have been the latter, and quite applaudably* so.

Also, I watched the new Muppets movie. I am a muppet of a man.

Also also:

Dear Mr. Obama,
     Your taxes suck.
     I am moving to Tonga, and you'll be sorry that I left!!

Not that I'm threatening the government or anything, I just think when I'm famous, they'll be like, "Hey, he's an American! Oh wait..."

*Denotes a newly invented word.

Time Skips

As you can see, I put some nifty categorizations on my blog for my favorite blog posts, regardless of what my imaginary audience thinks. I know, soooooo self-promoting, right? Well, the Books of Man of Little Consequence are all involved, so now you (or I) can read them as one book, though there are significant time skips between each chapter.
And then I started thinking about time skips... you know, the sort that show up in books or t.v. shows, telling you a whole summer has passed or maybe two years when in reality, the only time that has passed was you putting down one book and taking the next one off the shelf. Or maybe you're a bit weird like me and you sleep on it, hoping to get more of the feel of the intended time pass so as to make the reunions between the characters more meaningful (Nerd plug here: I actually waited two days before I made the transition from Naruto to Shippuden. Hopefully, you don't know what I'm talking about...) First Nephi has a seven year time skip when they were wandering around in the wilderness, but we move on to the next verse in a second while he and his family lived through all those--probably very uncomfortable--years.

So do we ever wish for time skips in our lives? Like a sort of Adam Sandler "Click" function where we can just pass a few hours or days or years in the blink of an eye, and effectively accomplish great growth without the growing pains?

I kind of wished for that today as I was painting a long stretch of fence. The monotonous tedium was sure to be taxing on my restless soul... Why can't I just be there--two hours into the future when it's all done for today. But then, if that were the case I would have missed the giant painted turtle in the pampas grass, which I "rescued" and placed in the kennel. I wouldn't have been able to invite my nephews over for a VIP pass to my own single-exhibit zoo, and then we wouldn't have gloriously released the turtle to scores of imaginary cheering cheer-people, and ended the afternoon with a strangely victorious feeling. I mean, it's just a turtle... but turtles are soooo cool and stuff.

So I stand by my own axiom, totally original as far as I know: "The greatest blessing of this monotonous and tedious life--and the tedium and monotony only increase as we get older and settle into a routine of handling responsibilities, mind you--is that we get to live every moment of it." For what is life but monotony, punctuated by periods of exaltation? That wasn't original. I did just quote myself right before that like some great philosopher/tool though.

Then again, it's after midnight and I'm about to retire the day, which means I'll time skip from this time til about, say, eight-thirty tomorrow morning (envy me, oh ye workers of industry in locations other than your own home!). So I guess my whole prolix, philosophical quote is bogus. Bummer.

But what about dreams? Does it count as a time skip if I'm hanging out in an RV parked in the middle of an ocean surrounded by scores of show-boating seals? I'll let you mull that one over in your exhausted minds. Until then, thanks for reading, even if you cut out after the first paragraph on this one.