I'm Never Eating Chili Again

I hate being sick. Not fake sick where you stay home from school or work to play video games or watch TV, but really being sick. It sucks. You don't want to do anything, sleeping is a chore, and you're usually bored out of your mind.

Yesterday I must have eaten something pretty bad because I didn't feel too well at all. Nevertheless I went with my friend Parker to pick up something from his brother's house. Turns out he wasn't feeling to well either. It reminded me of a story of something that had happened to us in high school.

(fair warning, this is a vomit story...so stop here if you don't wish to go on)

One of our friends had just received some award for a writing contest. As part of the awards ceremony they had dinner at golden corral...the buffet restaurant. He invited Parker and I to come along, I can't remember why but food is food so of course we went.

They say that pride is the downfall of man. I'm inclined to agree...or at least if it's not his downfall it will make him miserable...for Parker and I had to see who could eat more that that buffet, and my man-pride would not let me lose. Somewhere around the 3rd or 4th plate I started to feel the pressure of a full stomach. Did I stop? Of course not...I would only be finished when Parker was unable to continue. That's how man-pride works. It's a complete "anything you can do I can do better attitude". Comes in handy for sports, not so much in nutrition of digestion. I believe it was the 5th or 6th plate that did it. I had won. I felt alright too. I mean, as well as you can feel after eating probably 2 days worth of food in one sitting.

Slowly I got into my friend's car, his dad drove...so it was my friend that had won the award and his dad in front and Parker and I in the back. We started the long drive home when my stomach let me know that it wasn't doing too good. We pulled to the stoplight and I said the quintessential line, "I think I'm going to throw up."

Nobody believed me.

I tried opening the door as quickly as I could as it all came out. I'd have to say I did pretty darn good under the circumstances, but in all fairness I'd have to say I was 50% accurate. Half going outside the car...the other half inside. Yeah, I know...insanely gross. That's not the reason I'm telling this story either, but rather it was what happened after that made the event so memorable.

Here I am, dangling outside of a car at a stoplight having just puked my guts out after eating 6 full plates of food, and I hear a roar of screams coming from the car next to ours. I slowly lift my head only to find a car full of beautiful girls our age staring in disgust at what had just happened. I didn't know how to react so I did the only thing that seemed normal. I smiled at them. Now I'm sure that had to be extremely attractive, but the looks on their faces was priceless. I bet the only logical explanation as to my behavior was to tell themselves that I was drunk.

Well we drove to a gas station on the corner and cleaned it all up and all was well. I've since wondered if my friends dad will remember me as the kid that threw up in his car. I think I'd remember if one of my son's friends did something like that.

White and Nerdy

I really wish that I could stake claim of creating this hilarious chart, but I can't. I simply came to it in my daily reading.

If I were to make an honest assessment of myself using this diagram as a guide I'd have to place myself as a Dork or a full on Nerd. I don't consider that a bad thing at all. My favorite part of this chart though, is the social ineptitude qualifier.

I was in a conversation the other day with a friend and we were talking about nerdy people. Now, I use nerdy to signify people that have a love for gaming, sci-fi, technology, math, anything which would just seem...well nerdy. You see them all the time, and to be honest they scare me to death. Often they smell bad, have horrible social skills, and are so detached from the norms of human interaction that they basically become a leech on society (I know some of you are thinking names...I'm not (at least, I'm trying not to), this is a generalization). Now I'm not scared of what they do or what they like, but rather that our interests are so similar that I'm afraid I'll become one of them, or worse off...that I already am. I confess. I'm a fan of Star Wars, Star Trek, Lord of the Rings, Dungeons and Dragons, and everything else that makes nerds across the globe buy extra elastic underwear for fear of an atomic wedgie from some jerky jock. Don't judge me.

I realized something though that temporarily let me regain some composure. As much as I like playing video games, submersing myself into a world of sci-fi, or reading up on the latest technological battle (apple vs. google for example), I've been able to maintain a pretty decent and productive lifestyle. I have a full time job, I'm still attending school, I've been playing basketball, golf, and soccer each week, I have a lot of great friends (couldn't tell that from this blog...all 3 of you that read it, haha), and have continued to be active at church. Now that's only a small list of things that I do, and I've previously shown how I use my time each week, and I'd have to say I feel quite productive.

I think that's were some of social stigma towards nerdiness comes from. It's not necessarily the fact that nerds like science fiction, playing games, etc... It's that they let those things take over their lives. You've heard horror stories of people that play computer games so much that they've taken on alternative virtual identities, neglecting their basic needs such as social relationships, diet, and even personal hygiene.

Gross. Please don't let me become like that.

As has been mentioned before, everything needs to have proper balance. I feel it's perfectly acceptable (and necessary) to enjoy some relaxing recreation for both the body and mind, and if that's watching some star trek, playin' a little D&D, or heck...building an arcade, then that's OK by me...as long as it's kept in moderation and doesn't detract from your other obligations and responsibilities as a human being. Maybe I should start an advertising campaign..."Game Responsibly".

Nah...

The Best things in Life are Free (even dessert)

So the other night I went through the drive-thru at Kneaders bakery. Not only do they make fantastic sandwiches, but their desserts are great too. I mean, anything that tastes that good is probably a sin. Which is why I don't go there often, it's an illusion. I get a sandwhich instead of a hamburger and feel I'm being healthy, only to be blown away by the 1400 calorie brownie. Ok, so I have no idea how many calories are in their desserts, but it has to be a ton. Couple that with a side of potato chips and you have one ellusive healthy meal.

That being said I still love kneaders. After what happened last week I love it even more. As I said, I went through the drive-thru and had the following conversation with the girl working there. Oh, Parker was with me too to vouch for it's validity.

"Welcome to Kneaders, what can I get for you tonight"

'I'd like a...a...where's it at? Oh there it is, a club. and instead of the bread it comes on can I get it on Focaccia bread (see left...it's fantastic)?'

"You sure can"

'Sweet, let's put that in a combo as well, the one with the drink and dessert'

"Ok, what would you like as your dessert?"

'oh boy, what's good, and you can't say everything...'

"I'd go with a brownie or a cookie"

'do you guys still have your german chocolate brownies?'

"We do, those are my favorite"

'I'll take one of those then'

"good choice, and what would you like to drink?"

'I'm thinking Dr. Pepper'

"Sounds good, your total is ...."

so I finishi my order pull forward to the window and all that jazz

Pretty normal conversation right? Well when I get there the girl smiles and hands me my drink.

"you're our customer of the day so you get a free large drink and an extra brownie"

So I thank her and we go along our merry way all smiles. Then we realized what I had just done. I flirted my way into a free brownie. At least that what we'll tell ourselves. I didn't know I had it in me, yet there I was...holding two german chocolate brownies for the price of one.

Now there are endless possibilities of why the situation panned out as it did. Perhaps I was given the free brownie because they were closing up shop and had an extra. Maybe it was because it had fallen on the floor. Who knows, maybe they really did have a customer of the day counter and I happened to be the lucky chap. Maybe she saw Parker in the car and thought he was cute and wanted to give him a brownie too. Perhaps I ordered the ultimate combination by changing my bread in combination with the german chocolate brownie. In the end I suppose the best answer is who cares. Either way I got an extra brownie (yes, I gave it to Parker) and we were both laughing from the whole situation.

Anywho, I'm going to keep telling myself that I flirted my way into a free dessert. Why not right? Next time you're at kneaders give it a whirl. BTW, the club on focaccia bread is fantastic.

Update: So I recently went to Kneaders and saw a sign that almost made me cry. "Buy a pastry get one free after 8 pm". Dang it all...perhaps I wasn't as flirty as I had hoped. Oh well.

Ripped Pants and Fallen Petals

I suppose I owe you guys another one of these stories (and by you guys I refer to all three of you, haha). I'm pretty sure it happened junior year, but I'm not entirely sure. That's OK though, when and where in this story though don't amount to nearly as much as how and why. It was another school dance, let's go with junior prom (I think...?). I asked a girl in my ward. We were just friends, but to be honest I didn't know her very well...just that she was pretty shy. I was sure we'd have a fun time though. We did too, just a more painful fun than I expected.

We went sledding at Murray park. It's over just east of State St. on 5400 S. It has a few decent hills and one really nice one. It's also a great place to go ice-blocking or setting up a giant slip-n-slide in the summer (that's another story entirely). So we have our group of about 12-14 people. We're going down with tubes, toboggans, plastic sleds, inflatable furniture...you name it. Oddly though, my date wouldn't go down the hill. I didn't know if she was afraid, shy, or even rebellious, but there was nothing we could do to get her to go down the hill. She made sure I went down though, because she could tell I really wanted to. She just liked watching.

Well we kept sledding, the whole while my date would be at the top of the hill giving people a nice boost and enjoying everything in observation. We all decided to have one last big run before heading out, everybody going down together, but she still didn't go. We all made it to the bottom. Somehow I was closest to the hill after the decent and stood up to watch all of my friends who were now away from the hill.

I then hit the ground hard.

I must have blacked out for a second because I had no idea what happened. I woke up laying on the ground looking up (seems to be a theme with snow and me). Apparently my date was leaving the best for last and decided with everyone leaving she'd finally go down the hill. I wasn't looking towards the hill when she came down and she took out my legs going very fast. As I got up and stumbled around disoriented, (btw, she felt horrible) it was pointed out to me by caring-and-not-laughing friends (I wish there was a font for sarcasm) that my pants had ripped at the seam...the whole way. Looking back, she had to have hit me very hard, going very fast. I easily had 80 lbs. on her. We had one of those sleds that was basically a thin, flexible slab of plastic. I wrapped it around my waist to cover my nakedness. I still remember the weird looks people were giving us (OK, giving me) and how funny all of my friends thought it was.

I waddled my way back to the car, dropped her off and went home to change. I wish the story ended there, but it doesn't.

I'm an idiot. I'll prove it.

The dance was at the state capitol. We went and had our pictures taken, did a bit of dancing, and were just having a good time. Well we're all standing in a big circle and I decided to mimic the hilarious rantings of one of my favorite comedians, Jeff Birk. Don't bother googling him, nothing will come up. He's and LDS actor that's in Singles Ward, The R.M., Saint and Soldiers...not big roles, but he's there. Anyway, he does this bit where he takes the side of his suit coat and starts flapping it back and forth in front and behind him. I was showing our big group, but foolishly chose the wrong side of my tux. I chose the side that my boutineer was on and as I was flapping my suit the petals started to fly everywhere. My date looked horrified. At first I thought it was because I was acting retardedly...I later found out that her mom had made the boutineer by hand and had spent quite some time on it.

My bad.

Watching the petals fall was like watching the beast's time grow shorter as the rose slowly withered away. It was my turn to feel horrible.

She forgave me though, and we had a fun rest of the evening.

To this day I wonder if she remembers any of that date. Perhaps I should ask, like high-five girl, she might not have even thought twice about the days events. Then again, it might be the reason we never went out again...haha. Guess I'll never know.

I really, really like making things.

Building, repairing, creating, designing, fixing, etc... They all bring joy to my soul. I think that's why I involve myself in so many different projects. The problem is I work on so many different things and there's so little time that I often forget of things I'm working on! That's where time-management has often been my best friend, or my worst enemy. Recently I did a sort of self-assessment and measured how the 168 hours of my week are spent. I was intrigued. It's fairly accurate, though some categories blend together, like entertainment and social life often happen at the same time, so it's not absolute.

Excess time is the error margin, time that can spill into any of the other categories to compensate for variable change. It's pretty interesting to see where the time goes. Back to building...using this model means on average I spend anywhere from 2-10% of my time each week on miscellaneous projects. These projects involve building my arcade machine, a USB charger made from an Altoids can, a UV light box for night sports, a small recording studio, and readying my paintball arsenal just to name a few. I just think it's incredible that I'm able to fit so many little projects into my week and still have time for everything else. Speaking of time-management in general though, I wonder if any of my categories are mis-favored, either by spending too much time on them, or not enough.

I'm surrounded by greatness

Well, maybe I should change that to I'm surrounded by great friends. Friends that have their priorities straight, are well educated, intelligent, intuitive, accomplished, and overall just really fantastic people. I'm extremely grateful for them. It used to have a detrimental effect on me though. Odd I know, but constantly seeing the great accomplishments of those around me, whether it be school, work, athletics, or church would lead me to think of my own short-comings and failures. In one way it's a form of pride. Not from the top looking down, but from the bottom looking up, resenting that I wasn't better than I felt I should be. Fortunately that's changed.

The other day I was having a conversation with a close friend. Those that know me can tell I'm a pretty open guy, and I'm pretty easy to read. Nevertheless I tend to keep my group of close, tight-knit friends relatively small. I have many friends that reside in the outer surface, but I'm quite picky on who makes it to the inner-core. We were talking about our accomplishments and goals and what drives us forward. He mentioned that one of his problems was seeing how fantastic his friends around him were in comparison to himself, which in turn made him feel quite inadequate. Sound familiar? He was feeling the exact same way that I had been feeling. What was ironic was that this particular friend was one of those whom I looked up to and considered much more adequate than myself.

From our little chat I had an apostrophe, er...should I say, epiphany (name the reference, clue on the left). I think our close friends consist of those that have similar goals and values as we do, so I told him that his friends weren't his friends because they were better than him, but rather they were friends with him because he was like them. I had been driving home from work when our conversation had taken place and when it was over I just sat in my car thinking on my own words. I realized that if he was great because of his friends, and that I also felt I had great friends, I had to place myself within that same realm of greatness. Now I say that not to be boastful in any way, but to provide a rise in self-esteem that was much needed.

I am by no means perfect, and neither are you. We all have little quirks that we notice about ourselves, and many times feel that we don't match up to the unreasonably high expectations we set for ourselves. We feel inadequate as we face the trials of life. Nevertheless we are of great worth. We just may have not yet reached our full potential yet. Still, it got me thinking about the difference between what makes people great, versus those that are just ordinary.

Make no mistake. This world is full of ordinary people. Ordinary people that will amount to little or nothing in the pages of history and sadly, their lives. Ordinary people that will go with the flow of life, rarely causing problems, but never resolving them. Ordinary people that are not thought to be called upon in a time of need. To me, such a life is depressing. However, all ordinary people have the potential to become great, or extra-ordinary. Extra-ordinary people are willing and able to do things that others simply cannot do. Extra-ordinary people do not settle for mediocrity, but strive for excellence. Extra-ordinary people rise to the occasion when called upon, and in consequence, are continuously improving their lives. They are constantly working towards progression.

Which one you become is completely up to you. I've decided that I wouldn't be content living an ordinary life. Complacency isn't something I feel is worth settling for, and neither should you. We were meant for greatness.

My Dad has a plaque posted above his computer with words from a motivational speaker. "If you'll do for two years of your life what most people WON'T do, you'll be able to do the rest of your life what most people CAN'T do." Makes sense doesn't it? Like the bodybuilder pushing to do one more rep, or the jogger pushing for one more mile, we need to push ourselves to productivity and we'll able to do what others don't have the ability to do.

Wow, I completely wasn't meaning to go off like that, but I suppose writing will do that. You learn a lot about how you think and feel when you write. In the end all I'm trying to say is that I hope my life will reflect the words of Robert Frost (don't give me your overanalytical viewpoint, just enjoy the words as they are); That when I saw two roads that diverge in the woods I can say I took the one less traveled, and that it's made all the difference.