Opposition in all bethings

I've discovered what my purpose is in life. I'm meant to provide the opposition that will motivate other people to get together. My job is to pursue a girl who has only mild interest in me so that the guy that she really likes will get worried and try hard enough to make things work out. My loneliness brings people together.

Nightmare Before Christmas

Tonight I bought the movie that has become my favorite: Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas. I love the music and the richness of the atmosphere, and recently I've come to love the theme of the movie.
The main character, Jack, is dealing with an emptiness in his life, and he goes through the same kind of search for meaning that a lot of real people deal with. During this, he stumbles upon Christmas Town, and becomes enamored with it. Jack says that he feels "the warmth that's coming from inside", and he has a hard time both understanding and explaining what he feels, but he at last decides that "just because [he] cannot see it doesn't mean [he] can't believe it."
The beginning of the movie makes it obvious that there is a message about spirituality, mostly because the words that Jack uses to describe his experience are so typical of phrases used by people, especially Christians, of their spiritual awakenings. I was never quite sure what the story was trying to say about spirituality, however, since Jack makes such a mess of things in his excitement. I think I have it figured out now.
The message is about not taking religion to the point of fanaticism: Despite his spiritual experience, Jack is still the same person as he always was. Rather than completely changing who he is, his new spiritual side becomes a motivation for him to be better at living his normal life. I think that's a good lesson. People don't change their personalities when they become converted; they grow and become better, but they don't become different people, and in the end the best application of their religion is in their daily lives, and not in fanatic replacements for their lives.

A real lesson

I'm not very good at expressing my feelings. Well, that's not entirely true. I have no problem at all letting people know about my frustrations or opinions, but when it comes to real, heart-felt emotions, I tend to keep those bottled up inside.
I think that the real problem that I've had in the past with this is that people who I really care about don't know that I care about them, and they sometimes just assume that I hate them.
Over the last year or so, I think I've gotten a little bit better at this. Here's one thing that I've learned during the process: When you do vocalize your appreciation for someone, it amplifies it. That doesn't just apply to when you tell the person, but anyone. Like if I admit to my roommates that I like a girl, suddenly I start liking her more.
I'm not really sure if this is a good side-effect or not. Was I better off back when I wasn't even trying? I don't think you can be disappointed if you don't have any feelings.

Weird faces

I just got back from the copy center in the Tanner building. The girl that was helping me was wearing what I would describe as a "cute outfit." (Though admittedly I know little about anything "cute," so I might be wrong in that assessment.) I remember thinking that it was too bad that she didn't have a prettier face.
Then she and her coworker surveyed me about some girls that, according to them, are generally considered hot, but that these girls don't find attractive. One of these was Fergie from the Black Eyed Peas, and the other was some red-headed girl from some pussycat group that I'm not familiar with. The copy center girl said that she could see why people found these singers attractive, but that she thought that they had "weird faces."
Is that irony?

Number 7

From sunrise to sunset? Exactly how much do you think I play video games? I can't even remember the last time I played while the sun was up.

Number 1

It's really cold at 6 am. The burrito isn't much incentive to get up, because the only concern that my body has is that I get back into bed.
I did think that getting up early today for Marissa's challenge was a little bit easier than getting up that early for a class. Not because of incentive or consequences, because those are certainly more extreme for a class (especially my AI class, which is pretty much the hardest one I've ever taken). The real reason that it was easier today is that I know that I only have to do it once and I've satisfied the requirement. If I only had to get up and go to class one morning a semester I'd have no problem getting that over with.
And the sausage breakfast burrito is really spicy. I recommend sticking with the bacon one.
(In case you're not a subscriber, this is in response to my assigned life goals for the week.)

150

This is my 150th post. I thought I would waste it by simply announcing that.

The Israeli Formula

Last Christmas my brother Troy and I went to the mall by our house to look for Christmas presents. As we were walking around checking out the high school girls, we got stopped at one of those booths that they have for businesses that aren't going to last long enough to pay rent. This girl at the booth started telling us about all of these useless accessories that they make for cell phones. I probably wouldn't have listened to her, but she was so hot. She had dark hair and skin, and she had a hip style about her. She had this great accent, too. (We found out that she was from Israel.) Troy and I were totally hypnotized.
After flirting with her for about 20 minutes she convinced me to buy a microphone that clips on to the cell phone so that you can have it play over your car radio. A pretty handy thing, right? I bought three of them.
So this weekend my dad was in town visiting, and we had dinner at University Mall. My dad got stopped by a large breasted woman with pretty eyes at one of the booths. She had a pretty accent, so my dad asked where she was from. Israel. She convinced him to buy some nail care products even though he was embarrassed to be seen holding them. He bought three sets.
The moral of course is that if you have some product that can't sell itself based on its usefulness then all you have to do is put it in the hands of an Israeli girl and someone will buy it. You can at least count on the Casteels.

New Category

I think I'm going to have to make a new category on Provo Platinum for people who habitually post things that don't make any sense.

Welcome back, Insomnia

I stayed up ridiculously late last night playing Halo 2, and then when I couldn't sleep when we were done with that, I sat up longer and worked on a program (that was due a week ago). While I didn't end up sleeping very much last night, it is nice to be back to my normal sleep patterns.
The lesson that we learn from this, of course, is that Halo is a cure for cancer and/or depression.

Priorities

I had a date for lunch today. She called me when she got out of class, and I was supposed to go pick her up so that we could go out to eat. She just had bad timing, really, because I was in the middle of a head-to-head match on Halo 2. I mean, I couldn't just leave in the middle of a match. Who does that? So I made her walk over to my apartment.

Doctor visit

I now weigh 203.5 lbs., on the doctor's official scale. It just keeps going up.
I asked the doctor about how I've been sleeping a lot lately (14 hours is weird for me). I was hoping that I had mono, but he checked me out and thought it was more likely that I had either leukemia or depression. That's lame. I don't think either of those pay very well.

Nocturnal

It's 10:15pm, and I just woke up an hour ago.
I couldn't sleep last night, so I ended up staying up all night playing X-men. Then when I got home from church I fell asleep. I slept all day.
I don't know how to recover from this. What if my sleep schedule is now permanently up-side down?

Be vs. Earl

Late last night Gabe, Tyler and I went to Beto's. I thought I'd step it up.
I first ordered the cheese quesadilla. The guy taking my order looked confused at me, and said "Are you sure? It's just cheese?" If you have ordered the quesadilla before, then you'll understand why he'd try to talk me out of it. The quesadilla is just a giant wad of cheese in a tortilla. It's more grease than food. Which is, of course, why I wanted it.
Then I ordered two burritos: I tried the Ranchero, and I ordered my favorite, the Adobada. The guy asked me if we wanted to pay together or separate, and I told him together so that I wouldn't have to explain that all three meals were for me.
Tyler ordered the chimichanga, which gave Gabe an idea: What if we had them deep fat fry one of the regular burritos? The worker obliged as though it were a natural suggestion (which maybe it is in mexican countries), and so I had a giant Ranchero chimichanga.
I ate the quesadilla in 1 minute and 27 seconds. About 3/4 of the way through the Ranchero chimichanga I got full. I, of course, ate it anyway. The Adobada would become my nemesis, and we named him Earl.
The very first bite of Earl almost killed me. I was already full, and I couldn't eat any more. I ate another bite anyway. I thought I was going to hurl. I ate another bite. The bite size didn't get smaller, but the time it took me to get it down got longer with each successive bite. Sometimes my stomach would tell me to stop, and it would threaten to send back up what I'd already put down. I'd have to stop in the middle of the current bite and breath really slow and calm, and then I'd keep chewing once I'd lulled my stomach into a false sense of security. I tried to stop eating over and over, but Tyler kept encouraging me to finish what I'd started, and I listened. By the end I don't think I was even swallowing anymore. I'd just chew the bites until they were liquefied enough to slide down my throat without any effort. I had probably an inch and a half of burrito left at the bottom when my stomach refused to take any more and I had to spit the last bite out to keep myself from vomiting.
The Adobada had once been my favorite. Beto's was my favorite place to go eat. Now I was in horrible pain, both from my stomach being stretched beyond its capacity, and my throat was burning from the spices sitting in my mouth and trickling down.
It still hurts today, but I guess everything paid off. Today I weigh 202.2 lbs., even on the most conservative of the scales that I've weighed myself on. And it's a good thing I made my goal, because I don't know if I'll ever be able to eat again.

Fondu You

So you're into a certain girl, and you try to spend time with her to ascertain whether or not that interest is mutual so that you can take further action. One day it seems like she is totally into you, and she's flirty and happy to see you and sad when you leave and can't wait to see you again. You think that things are good. Then the very next day she acts like she couldn't care less if you were even friends or not. Every guy that's ever liked a girl knows what I'm talking about, and I think we've all experienced the ITB-reversal. Why does she do this?
So I've been described as being a "fondu pot" by a few girls that I know, as a metaphor for how I'm different every time they interact with me, and that they never know what they're going to get. I've known a lot of girls who have told me that they just "don't get me" or that they don't know "what to make of me." I had thought that with such a consistent review, they must be right. Recently, however, I've realized that never has a guy told me that he didn't know what to make of me, or that he didn't get me, or that "sometimes I think me and Bryant are friends, and other times I think he doesn't like me at all."
My conclusion: I am not a fondu pot at all. It's girls. They're the ones that are inconsistent and unpredictable, and they've seen me through their inconsistent eyes and been unable to understand, not because I'm always changing, but because they are. It's not me, it's you.

Betos++

Today I decided to step up my normal Beto's routine by going one step greasier: the Chimichanga. I assumed that it would be the normal fatness of a Beto's burrito, but deep fat fried. I was, sadly, disappointed. Not with the chimichanga itself, because it was very good. I was disappointed by the fact that it seemed slimmer, and was trimmed with vegetables. I think a normal burrito from that place has more lard on the inside than could be soaked up by a simple tortilla shell, so the chimichanga just couldn't match up.
So this evening I decided to make up for the lack of fat with my first multi-restaurant experience. I went to Denny's and ordered a cup of their country gravy, and then I went to Beto's and got a California burrito, which I covered (and smothered) in the gravy before eating it.
If heaven were a burrito, it would be smothered and covered.

Weight Gain

I weighed myself for the first time in a few weeks, and I've gained 10 lbs. since the last weigh-in. My goal for this week is to break 200 lbs.

It's Official

I just wanted a post that was called that, too. I'm just trying to fit in.

Super Nice Guy

I just saw a sign on a table that said "Thank you for not moving this table."
That was nice of me, thought I.
In fact, I'm doing nice things all of the time, now that I think about it. People are always thanking me for things, like not smoking, not walking on the grass, not feeding the animals....
I might never even go outside again. I bet the nicest thing I could do for society would be to never do anything, and then they'd have all kinds of things to thank me for.

I can hear you getting fatter

I looked at myself in the mirror today after I had a Twix ice cream bar for the dessert of my second Beto's meal of the day. I think I could see myself getting fatter. I haven't been in front of a mirror for a few hours, but at the rate I was going, I should look about like this by now.

The Life and Death of the Darth Cannon

A little over a month ago my ward had a dumb activity in which I didn't want to participate. So, instead of going to the activity, Tyler and I built a gun.
My friend Ryan and I had built a potato gun in high school, and I think Tyler had done the same, so we both knew the basic operations and what we needed. At the hardware store, we discovered that this is not only a very common practice, but that they don't necessarily like helping with this, so they don't readily sell the parts that we needed. We ended up compromising and making due with what they had, but in the process, we developed a new kind of potato cannon.
The Darth Cannon ^TM had a fail-safe. In the event that the pressure in the chamber was too high, instead of breaking the combustion chamber, it would blow-off the barrel to relieve the pressure. We were invincible. We couldn't hurt ourselves with this.
So, as any good college students who had built a gun, Tyler and I did science experiments on it. (I bet you thought we were going to use it to break things, huh?) We took it to the baseball field and measured the distances it traveled with different fuel-filling styles, until we'd figured out how to best use the Darth Cannon.
Unfortunately, the Darth Cannon met its end this weekend. We'd gone up the canyon to sit around a bonfire, and I'd gotten bored. So, naturally, I pulled the Darth Cannon out of my trunk (where everyone keeps their home-made guns) and loaded it up. I readjusted the barrel because it had gotten a little crooked in my trunk, but I guess I didn't tighten it up enough afterwards. When I shot it, instead of the potato flying out, the barrel itself shot off. This was good, of course, because it proved that my fail-safe would work, but in all of the excitement, I kind of broke off the trigger ignition that we'd put on it.

For Loyd

I found out today why everyone was such jerks to you at CompUSA. (Not that you personally would have done anything like this; Maybe it's a statement about the organization itself.)
I went in to get a wireless router, because they had a really good sale on them today, and they were dirt cheap after the rebates. I decided to get three of them. (Seriously, they were really cheap.) So I got all rung up and everything, and when the rebates printed out, they only gave me one rebate form. I told the girl that I needed 3 of the forms, and then she tells me that I only get one rebate per household. Did it say this on the price tag on the shelf advertising the rebate? No. Did the sales person that went and got the things from the back tell me? Even though I made a big deal about how cheap they were and how I should just get a bunch of them at that price? No. He didn't say anything. And of course the cashier also didn't say anything until I complained about not having enough rebate forms. So, then they had to go through this big thing to return two of the routers, acting the whole time like it was my fault for making them do this.
Would it have really been that hard to just be up front with me about the deal in the first place? That's why people are mean when they go in there.

On not sleeping

When I wake up in the morning I'm always tired and I hate getting up, no matter how early I went to bed the night before. I stay tired for about an hour or so, and then by the time I'm up and doing things, I'm not tired anymore.
The same thing happens when I don't sleep. I get really tired in the early morning hours, around 7 am (which is really the earliest morning hours that exist for me, since times before that are part of my night schedule, not morning). Then by about 10 am, I'm not tired anymore, and I go about my day the same as I would normally, and the lack of sleep doesn't even affect me.
Some people think that if you don't sleep one night then the next night you'll be so tired that you'll just fall right asleep. Not so. Once your day starts and you get over being sleepy, then you've passed the point of no return. You've lost those sleep hours, and you can't catch up on them by sleeping more the next night.
Despite all of these things against me, I have finally found the one thing that can make me fall asleep at any time, regardless of how much sleep I've already had:
Class.

Proposal for Internet Laws

I read today about a man in Japan that was arrested (in real life) because he cheated in a video game.
Apparently we're setting some kind of trend where virtual crimes can be punished in the real world. As long as that's where we're heading, I've composed a list of laws that need to be understood about any virtual activity.

1. If there are items on the ground in a video game, to pick them up is stealing.
   
2. Killing someone in a video game is murder.
3. Killing someone on your team is treason.
4. Picking to play on the side of the Germans or Russians in a video game is also treason.
5. Development of a game where you can play as the Germans or Russians is considered an act of war against the US.
   
6. The games "Grand Theft Auto" and "Thief" are completely illegal. The publishers and vendors will be prosecuted for entrapment.
   
7. A computer virus is considered a biological weapon, and the creation of a virus will be prosecuted at an international level as the development of weapons of mass destruction.
8. If your computer gets a virus you will be quarantined from the Internet (to prevent you from spreading it by your ignorance).
   
9. Online dating services that charge for membership will be guilty of running a prostitution racket.
   
10. You must have a license to operate an email account. If you cannot forward responsibly, then your email privileges will be forcibly revoked.
    
11. Web pages cannot make noises or play music unless the user requests it by pressing a button. Web pages that automatically play music upon being visited will be prosecuted for disturbing the peace, and the Web pages will be impounded.
    

Google (TM)

Google Talk is all the rage among my computer nerd friends. If you haven't heard the hype yet (it probably hasn't spread away from the nerds yet), allow me to enlighten you.
Google Talk is a very simple (watered-down) chat client, similar to the Instant Messengers from AOL, Yahoo, and MSN. It pretty much has only two features: a regular text messaging, and a voice chat (both features that the other clients have had for a long time). It doesn't even send files.
You might ask, Why do the computer nerds (who should know better) like it, if it's such a piece of junk? Well, I'll tell you. You see, the hard-core computer nerds have a very strong bias against Microsoft, and hate everything that they make, even if it's better than the alternatives. In a similar fashion, they love everything with the brand name "Google", without regard to whether it's good or not. Google is just a corporate entity like any other (including Microsoft).
The reason I post this to the non-nerd world is simply that I fear that other people will be blinded by the Google name and fail to see that this particular program is a folly. I think it was silly of Google to make a chat client in the first place. What's the point of switching to a brand new chat program that no one even has yet? Even if the feature set were better than other IM's (which it isn't), don't you choose your chat based on which one your friends are on?

Bubble Boy

I drove to Colorado with my Dad. It takes a lot longer than when I drive myself, so I had a lot of time to kill. I blew my first bubble with bubble gum. There's not a story behind it, I'm just proud of myself.

Food experts needed

I've been seeing these billboards for McDonald's, advertising their new chicken sandwiches. I don't go to McDonald's a lot, but those sandwiches just looked so good that I couldn't help it.
I had the Chicken Club, and I have to say that I was disappointed. The old chicken sandwich was just a processed meat patty. I like the processed meat better. It's always the same consistency and always tender and juicy.
So this gets me thinking. What's wrong with processed food? I mean, it's got such a bad rep, but why? I have no idea why it's considered bad for me. For that matter, I don't understand what all the hype (good or bad) is behind organic foods, preservatives, or even fresh foods. What kind of motivation do I have to eat "healthy" when I don't know why these things are considered healthy at all?
I could draw some kind of analogy between this and other areas of my life, but I think I'll keep that to myself.

No hawk

The mohawk had to come off this week, due to legal complications, but it's been a fun experience. Here's some of the responses that I've experienced:

Con

People stare a lot. Sometimes I would forget that I had a mohawk, and I'd just see this guy staring at me and wonder if he knew me or something, or see some girl that just couldn't take her eyes off of me. I'd be pretty sure that she must've wanted me bad, and then I'd remember that I had a haircut.

Pro

I went to the zoo the day after I got the 'hawk, and little kids would stare at me like crazy. They're even more shameless about it than adults, and don't mind staring. They're really nicer about it, though. I think that most of them haven't yet learned to hate people that look different, so they just thought I was interesting or something and I ended up having all of these little kids telling me stories about the snakes and bats that we were looking at. Apparently it's easier to make friends with little kids when you look funny. Maybe clowns should start wearing mohawks.

Pro

A girl in the Detroit airport gave me her phone number and wanted to hook up with me in Vegas. I suppose it's possible that she liked me because of my charm or boyish good looks, but since I don't really get a lot of girls offering me their phone numbers, I'm going to assume that the mohawk was the new thing that encouraged that.

Pro

At the Braves' game in Atlanta I got put on the big screen. When I saw them with their Fan Cam putting people up on the screen, I was pretty sure that I was a shoo-in, so I had Kim get ready, and she got a picture of it as evidence.

Pro

After the game, the lady selling Braves visors liked my haircut and gave me one for free.

Con

At said game, I got really sun-burnt. The loss of a super-power is pretty unfortunate, but let's not dwell on that anymore.

Con

Camille doesn't like me anymore and Kim thought I looked ugly.

Con

The term "WT" was used to describe me on a much more frequent basis (rivaling the frequency with which I actually deserve it).

Pro

My boss, surprisingly, didn't even care. He just took pictures of it and put them on the wall.

???

The bishop didn't express an opinion. He just kept asking, "What happened?" over and over. I didn't really have a good answer for him.

Con

I got pulled over in Nephi on the way back from Las Vegas (where I'm just another one of the many freaks and didn't get any special reactions at all). I was going pretty fast and it was obvious when the cop had seen me, so I pulled right over before he even had to turn his lights on. I would have thought he'd be pretty appreciative of this, but he wasn't pleased with me at all. He even threatened to take me straight in to jail.

It's possible that the last one didn't have anything to do with the mohawk, since I hear that Pete Lattin got arrested in Fillmore just for speeding, and he's a pretty clean-cut guy. I don't imagine that the mohawk helped, though. In fact, just for contrast, consider what happened to me today when I went to court for the same ticket. Today, however, I was mohawk-free and I wore a shirt and tie. The Judge told me to go get my ticket reduced by the DA, despite that I admitted that I deserved the ticket that I got, and the DA cut my fine in half upon hearing that I was a BYU student.
I think that people might treat you different as a mohawk-wearer, but even so, the pro's seem to balance out the con's. I just don't understand why everyone doesn't have mohawks. I guess it's a good thing they don't, or they'd all be super-villains like me.

Rashmi

Lost in the desert

I could have died and been lost in the desert today, and no one would have been the wiser. Consider the following scenario.

I'm driving back from Las Vegas where I went to Jordan and Ariana's wedding reception. I get to St. George and I stop for some gas and some food, and then head on my way. About half-way between St. George and Cedar City, I cross an over-pass, and suddenly my wheel starts rumbling severely. I pull over to the side of the road, and just as I feared, I have a blown-out tire.
I get my spare tire and jack out from the trunk, and start to jack up the car. The road has a slight decline, and the car rolls forward as it raises off the ground, and rolls off the jack. If only I had a brick or cinder block to put in front of the tire to keep it from rolling. I look around the side of the road for a rock to use. The ground to the side of the road slopes down into a tree-covered gully, but on the hill I see a large flat rock, about 5 inches thick. It's a good bet, so I go pick it up. It's really big and heavy, and it's awkward for me to pick up on the hill. I start carrying the rock to the car, but I slip and stumble backward, falling down on the ground. The rock drops hard on my chest, breaking several ribs and puncturing a lung. I pass out as I'm rolling down the hill into the trees. I die a few hours later.
I don't get back to Provo at all that night. My roommates don't think anything of it, because I hardly ever sleep in my own apartment anyway, and this is the second weekend in a row that I've taken a trip without telling them where I'm going. They don't even know I'm gone.
I don't go to Church the next day, but since I have such a hard time waking up every morning anyway, most everyone is used to me sleeping in, and no one is really that surprised that I'm not there, so they don't think anything of it.
Only a few of my friends even know that I've gone to Vegas, but they know that I could stay a few days just as easily as come back today, so they're not really surprised that they don't see me after a few days. Ronnie goes back to Louisiana and never knows if I come back from Vegas or not. All he knows is that I don't answer my Gmail. Jason moves back to Salt Lake and likewise thinks nothing of the fact that he hasn't seen me after a week. Tyler knew that I was gone, but quickly forgets and is just annoyed that I'm not around for him to watch TV at my place. His girlfriend then gets back in town and he stops coming over, so he never realizes that I haven't come back.
The only one of my friends that knows that I've headed back to Provo is Amy Jo. After she's been back in Provo for a few weeks she calls me when she's bored one day, but when I don't return her calls she just writes me off as a jerk and stops calling.
I don't show up to work the next week. No one at work is really surprised, since they're used to me setting my own schedule, working from home, or just taking breaks whenever I feel like it. It takes until the end of the month for them to call, and then they just want to know my new class schedule. I don't give one to them, but they don't worry about since I don't follow a schedule anyway.
Meanwhile the highway patrol finds my car on the highway. They put a notice on it, and when it remains there for a day or two, they assume it's abandoned and impound it. They never even notice my body down in the gully.
My family calls after a week or two, and I don't answer. They just complain about how crappy of a son/brother that they have, and get annoyed with me for never calling them back. After a few months of not hearing from me, they'll call my grandma and see if she's seen me. No one hears from me, and it's not until I don't come home for Christmas that they suspect that something might be wrong, as opposed to me just being a jerk.

This didn't all happen, of course. I did get a flat tire outside of St. George, but I didn't drop the rock and I was able to get back into town and buy a new tire. All in all it took me about 4 hours to get through St. George on my way back home. It is kind of depressing, though, to realize that if something had happened to me that it would have taken 4 months before anyone even started looking for me. Now I know how Bryant feels.

Skinvincible

When Spider-man got his cosmic powers, Magneto came to check him out in case he was a mutant. That's when I learned that some mutants don't show their powers when they're born, but develop them later in life. I assumed that's the way it was with my super power.
I'm a fair-skinned guy, and it's not surprising that I'm sensitive to the sun, and I'd been burnt pretty good when I was a kid. About a year ago, though, I spent a week with my brother in Las Vegas during the summer. It's different going to Vegas with my brother, because we didn't do any of the touristy things. We just hung out by the pool all day every day, and then went to the casinos at night. Even though I laid by the pool without any sunscreen for about four hours every day, I didn't get burned or tanned or anything. It was as if the sun had no effect on me whatsoever. I was skinvincible.
I don't know how long I've had this power, but that was the first time I'd seen it in effect, but now I can't remember being really sunburned since high school when we'd go boating. This week, however, I discovered that my power wasn't a mutant evolution after all, but from a different source.
On Monday I spent a large chunk of the day outside in the sun at the Braves game. The newly-exposed skin on my head got burned bad. Maybe the worst burn that I've ever had in my life. Yesterday it blistered up. Last night the blisters burst. This morning my head is swollen all around the burn on one side. I look like I had some birth defect that makes my head lop-sided.
Now some might say that my skinvincibility was just a joke or my imagination, or that I simply don't get enough sun to test it since I'm just a indoor-dwelling computer guy. I insist that my powers were real, and it's obvious to me what has happened. I simply lost my power when I shaved my head. Every super-hero has a weakness. I guess the haircut was mine.

Pledge of Allegiance

There's never been much competition between Coke and Pepsi for me. Dr. Pepper gives it a run for its money, but can never completely over-take it. You know how sometimes you go in to a restaurant and order a Coke, and the lady says, "Is Pepsi ok?" and you're like, "No," and hope that they have Dr. Pepper? Yeah, I'm sure everyone knows that feeling.
We went to the Coca-Cola museum in Atlanta. Really, the museum is a collection of every Coke advertisement that has ever been created, and there are bits of history sprinkled throughout, mostly just to explain the changes in the propaganda. By the time we got through the second room I'd already been completely convinced that Coca-Cola was the best product ever invented. As I became further indoctrinated by the rest of the museum, I started to make plans to show my newly increased loyalty to Coca-Cola. I didn't think I'd ever be able to drink the once-beloved Dr. Pepper again. I'd use Coke on my breakfast cereal. Eventually I'd phase out water, too (even though that could lead to the painful state where my urine would be carbonated).
There is a tasting room at the end of the self-guided tour of the museum. They have almost every variety of drink that Coke makes, all available to try for free. My first cup of Coca-Cola Classic was oral heaven. I'm sure that it tasted only as good as every other Coke I've ever had, but I doubt it had ever been received with such an emotional attachment. I moved on through all of the varieties of diets and caffeine-frees, and then on the other Coke drinks, like Barq's and Sprite. By this fifth marginal cup of soda, I'd lost the initial satisfaction, but there were other drinks to try: Tab, Pibb, Poweraide, Minute Maid, and every other aid you could think of were there to be tested. I couldn't let the opportunity pass by, so I tried them all. By the time I was finished, I'd begun to feel disgusted towards soda and I didn't want any more for quite a while. Then I saw the international room.
A whole second tasting room, this one with varieties of drinks that were available in other countries, totaling more than the varieties of the first room. I felt obligated, pushed on my ingrained love of the Coca-Cola company, and so I tried all of these, too. I'd already had more soda than I could still be enjoying, but it didn't help matters that Coca-Cola has an obvious dislike of foreign countries. I mean, why else would they force such horrible flavors on them? They must have run out of fruit-based flavors, because they had Fanta flavored like seeds and nuts and what must have been some kind of tree bark. The Italian brand (I think it was called "Beverly") was so bitter that I had to use the lychee nuts to wash the flavor out of my mouth.
When we left the museum I felt so sick to my stomach that I didn't think I could ever drink anything ever again. After a few hours I realized I was wrong and I saw that I needed a Coke, but I drank water for the rest of the day, so I'd say that after all was said and done, the propaganda overload and its back-fire cancelled each other out, and I don't think that any permanent damage was done. Only time will tell if the tide was changed in the battle between Coca-Cola and Dr. Pepper. Maybe next time that a restaurant serves Pepsi I'll just leave and go eat somewhere else.

A sunbeam

Late last night after we'd run out of potatoes (details forthcoming) Tyler, Casey and I were sitting on the stage (a.k.a., Castle Grayskull) drinking slurpees, when my thoughts turned to my life ambitions. I asked Casey if he would respect me less if I had a mohawk, and without hesitating he said "I'd respect you more." And that's how I made up my mind.
"That's all it takes?" Tyler said as we ran up the stairs to find some clippers. "I've been telling you for weeks that you should stop worrying about it and just do it." I told him that it clearly takes more than one person to qualify as peer pressure. He's since objected to that explanation, too, claiming that it doesn't count as peer pressure since I had to ask them to approve it. I'm sticking with peer pressure.
Here's some documentation.
Today when I went to the zoo I noticed that it's a lot easier to make friends with little kids because they love to stare at me.

Pumpkin King and the Monsters

We had the latest Jason and Ronnie presents party this week. We did an open-mic night on our homemade stage. Our band, the Pumpkin King, had its debut performance there, too. It was fun that everyone cheered us on even though we suck (or because of it?).
Last night I also got the chance to see Big Head Todd and the Monsters perform a little free show in SLC. I decided that they're my heros, and not just because they're the most famous thing without guns to ever come out of my hometown. These guys are probably around 40 years old, and they've been a band since high school. It's like they've never had to have a real job. I think if Project Sugarhouse works out then I'll be able to go around playing in a band and not have to worry if we don't have any talent, because the Project'll pay the bills.

Abusive relationship

Tyler pointed out to me yesterday that I've done bodily harm to him every day this week. Behold.

1. On Monday we went to go see some fireworks in Spanish Fork. We went in three different cars, and none of us knew where any of the others were. Eventually (despite contradictory directions) Tyler and I found Russ and Christie and Harry Caray together. We had walked for a ways looking for a good spot to watch from, when Moriah called, claiming to be in prime fireworks-watching position, so our combined group was going to rendezvous with her. We all crammed into Russ's car because it was closer, and Tyler was stuck laying across three people in the back seat. Russ dropped Tyler and me at my car. I thought it would be funny if Tyler climbed out of the car head-first. He didn't think it'd be funny or convenient, so I tried to pull him out of the car, and he pulled back and hit his head on door frame.
2. The next day we were at Walmart buying white gas (Wait for it....) and there was this display with a ton of frisbees at the front of the store. I picked one up tried to throw it to Tyler, but the truth is that I throw like a girl (no offense to those girl readers who are more athletic than me), and so I gave it one of those throws that curves complete and goes 90-degrees from where it was aimed. I figured that I'd just grab another frisbee and try again, but I'm not much better. I might not be skillful, but I am persistent (or stubborn?), so I grabbed another frisbee, but by this time Tyler had given up and already started to walk away. As I ran after him my stubbornness turned to mischief, and went on the opposite side of the isle-divider from him, hoping to hit him with the frisbee when he turned the corner. He, of course, foresaw my plan, and was ready for me when he turned the corner, thinking that he would simply catch the frisbee and foil my plan. Just as he appeared and I was about to launch my attack, two girls came out from a side isle and blocked my path. Instead of letting that ruin the moment, however, I stood cocked and ready to fire, waiting for the girls to clear the way. Tyler must have thought it ridiculous, because it only made him more prepared to catch the frisbee. By the time my shot was clear, my tension must have mounted to a degree such that the power with which I threw my projectile compensated for my inaccuracy. I hit Tyler right in the eye from about 8 feet away.
3. After our party last night we convinced Tyler to show off his fire-dancing skills. He had two of the torch-knives that they use, and he was dancing with one while I was soaking the other in the white gas (that we'd bought at Walmart the day before). My job was to spin off the excess gas from the stick that I was soaking. After it had soaked up the gas, I swung the thing repeatedly (because I can't spin it fast enough to get anything off of it) until it didn't look like any more gas was spraying off of it. Then I lit it and (after burning my hand trying to light the other end) gave it to Tyler. On his first spin it sprayed burning fuel in a diagonal line from his right shoulder down to his left knee. It took a second or two before he noticed that he was on fire so he could drop the sticks and put himself out.
4. That night at the ritual late night Beto's run (which Carlos should have paid for), I stepped on his already-hurt toe.

He gave me the credit that at least the last one wasn't my fault.

will work for crack

Loyd's blog just made me think of that.

Just an experiment

This week Ronnie and I are doing the vegetarian challenge. Tyler says that being a vegetarian isn't something that you can just do for a week and then forget about, because it's a big decision that must be weighed out carefully. He says that it'd be like turning gay for just a week. Well, he may be right that this is the first time that vegetarianism has become a one-week challenge, but we're still committed to it. For a week.
So today I was driving around looking for a place to eat lunch. It was really hard decision, since (a) I'd never had to choose a place based on whether it was meatless, and (b) I was really hungry, and it was hard not to just get a burger.
I decided to go to the Pita Pit. I'd never been there before and it seemed like the kind of place that would be veggie-friendly. I had a falafel pita. My coworkers were all shocked and horrified, having heard that falafels were the grossest food ever, but I really liked it. It was hearty and satisfying and really good. It might become my favorite restaurant this week.

Fondu Pot

Ash and her friends say that I'm a fondu pot because I'm different every time they encounter me. Well, this girl that I work with today told me that I'm hard to figure out, and that she never knows what to make of me. I think I ruin the Dixie Chicks' whole Wonderbread vs. eTicket thing, too, because I don't fit nicely in any categories. (Although that might be a bad example, since their system doesn't make a lot of sense anyway.)
Anyway, I just thought that maybe y'all would want to know that nobody really gets me, not just you guys.

Nothing worse

The guy on the radio just said that "there's nothing worse than traffic in hot weather." If that's true, I think that makes Southern California the worst place ever.

Chinese Buffet

There's this restaurant in Lakewood (CO) called the Great Wall. It's a buffet with Chinese, Mongolian, and Japanese food. It's sick (and I don't mean that the way that the snowboarders say it). They have all kinds of exotic foods like crawfish and sushi and frog legs. I think food that exotic can't possibly be good if it's offered at all-you-can-eat quantities.
For some reason my dad and his wife think this place is great, so they go there every time there's a reason to go out. We went there for Father's Day. I pretended that I didn't mind even though I got sick the last time that we went there. I just ate the beef on-a-stick and the rolls. That was safe enough. I did put a crawdad in the urinal, though.
On a side note, Troy's fortune read, "Genius is nothing but an aptitude for patience." I think that makes him mildly retarded.

Fire Creek

Tyler and I were in a movie this week. Well, mostly Tyler.

We went to be extras in BYU's first feature film, which is to be called Fire Creek. I don't know all of the details of what the movie is about, but this week they were filming a boxing tournament, and they needed extras to play the spectators at the boxing match, so that's what we did. At first.

They wanted to show one of the boxers with a broken nose, to kind of give the feeling of how badly hurt someone can get (one of the main characters gets trounced pretty badly). Tyler volunteered and they made him up pretty nicely. It looked so good, in fact, that the director decided not to just show him with the broken nose, but to show it happening.

So Tyler got pitted up against this big Polynesian guy. The guy kind of tackled Tyler and got in a few shots to the face before the referee could pull him off. Then Tyler was pulled back onto a stool in his corner where a skilled actor (me) played his buddy who tried to clean off the blood. Tyler wouldn't let him touch it (despite the buddy's pleas to help clean him up), but demanded to know if it was broken, which his coach admitted that it was.

We had lines and everything. It was exciting. I have a few pictures of Tyler in action.

Bo Bice vs. Epitaph

I unsubscribed from the Epitaph newsletter tonight because they said that they hated Bo.

The best of times, the worst of times

I realized yesterday that my best moments are the same as my worst moments. Here's a ranked list of the best and worst things that happened to me yesterday:

1. I saw the girl that I like yesterday. It's the best thing because I like seeing her, and the worst thing because I feel like a tool because nothing's ever going to happen between us.
2. I spent $10 at Taco Bell. It's the best because it was so good, but the worst because I'm ashamed of myself for spending so much money on lunch.
3. I played the soccer accuracy drill in the ward activity. It's the best because it's the first time I've gotten to play soccer since I hurt my leg (details coming soon) and it's the worst because I did really bad and got out in the first round.
4. All we did at work yesterday was watch Star Wars fan films. It's the best because we goofed around all day, and the worst because now I'm going to have to work harder to get my project done in time.

That's all I can think of. It's a neat phenomenon, though, huh?

The Pit vs. Alice

The Pit came back last night and Alice was its first casualty.
I was out on the couch using Alice in tablet-mode, and when I got tired I put her under the couch (so as not to be stepped on or otherwise disturbed in the early morning hours) and I fell asleep.
At some point during the night, the Pit broke free from its constraints, and one of the springs from the couch came loose. The spring swung around and oscillated as I tossed and turned in the Pit above it.
When I awoke, and looked at Alice to see what time it was, I saw that her face had been scratched severly and repeatedly by the loose spring.

"[Alice] was lost for the price of a touch [screen] and a gash across her face."

Can't live with 'em

Priscilla almost just died.
I had a running process that I couldn't get into so I had to restart her, but then when I went to turned her on again she started beeping like mad, so I hurried and turned her off and waited a few minutes (because her kind is crazy and unpredictable so maybe it was just a one time thing), but then when I tried again with her she started beeping and then her fan went into overdrive and I thought she was going to explode.
But she didn't. She just had a bad memory.

Abridged Atlas Shrugged

For a long time I've been trying to get my friends to read a book called Atlas Shrugged so that it could change their lives and they could be as big of assholes as me (at least for a little while). Well, during most of said long time I hadn't even finished reading the book myself, seeing as it's the biggest, longest, most-smallest-print book ever made. So, for the same reason, most of my friends won't read it -- except the truely die hard, like Jason and Ronnie.
Jason, however, will never read the last chapter because our false god told him not to, so he found a solution to all of our problems: The Abridged Atlas Shrugged!

Addicted

It's come to my attention recently that I have an addictive personality. I'm not 100% sure that's the right way to say that, because it makes it sound like my personality has qualities that get people addicted to it (which may be contrary to reality). What I really mean is that I'm easily addicted to things.
My most recent addiction is an XBox game called Knights of the Old Republic II. It's a Star Wars role-playing game. I got it for Christmas but I didn't really play it much once I got back to school. Then last week I was sittin' at home alone and felt like playing a game, so I put it in, and I was hooked. I get so wrapped up in the storyline from it that I start to forget (or hope?) that it's not real and that it's just a video game.
So I'm fasting from the game today because I think if I don't get this under control that I'm going to start using my Franklin planner to schedule what levels I'm going to beat instead of important things, like homework and classes.

Reality Bites

It's weird how reality television sucks you in. I really hate reality television, but every now and then I get stuck on it. American Idol, for instance. We just watched it one time and then we needed to watch it again to see who won, and so on and so on. Don't let anyone tell you that just one won't hurt. Anyone can be an addict. Jordan used to record America's Top Model and watch it when he got home at night, and it didn't take long before I was all into it and wanted to see what happens. If I'm not careful I might get stuck on the Great Race, too.

The Pit

The springs on one side of our couch have all come disconnected and so that section of the couch has no support, but is just a sunken pit of fluffiness. It can be comfortable, but you kind of get stuck there.
The real danger of the pit is that things get lost in it. If something sits on that section of couch for too long it gets swallowed up by the pit, and you have to take the couch apart to get to it. I don't mean taking the cushions off, because the pit goes deeper than that. You have to turn the couch upside down and take the bottom off. It's eaten remote controls and cell phones, and now, people.
I fell asleep on the couch last night. It was comfortable, it's just weird when you wake up inside the couch.

In case anyone was wondering how far away the MARB is, it's three Alkaline songs from my apartment.

Girlfriends

It's kind of amazing (and by that I mean weird and uncomfortable) that I can hang out with several of my ex-girlfriends at a time, especially since I've never actually had a girlfriend at all (not unless you count That Girl in high school, but everyone knows that your first romantic encounter is a mess and that you end up thinking it more important than it really is).
I think the issue there is just that I'm afraid of the word "girlfriend." You know how when you start dating someone, all of your friends want to call her your girlfriend, but every time they say it, you start to feel sick to your stomach and need to point out that "She's not my girlfriend." And then you panic and break up with her before something serious happens.
Well, I just don't quite get the same feeling with the term "ex-girlfriend", so I'm ok with that being thrown around to describe my previous love-interests. So the girls with me just go straight from normal friends to ex-girlfriends, with this weird, awkward stage in the middle. (I didn't do very well in Chemistry, but I think that's what plasma was.)
Maybe everyone has that issue and they just don't actually hang out with their ex's. I guess normal people hate each other when they break up. Maybe people don't really mean it when they say "Let's just be friends," but I always pretend that they do.

Smooth

Remember that girl that next-semestered me? Well, I didn't tell this story, but I decided to take her up on the offer this semester, and we went out a few weeks ago. Unfortunately, when my opinionated side came out it kind of rubbed her the wrong way and it was a pretty awkward date.
So yesterday I saw her in the Talmage building and she didn't even look at me. She did one of those things where you look at the ground and pretend that you didn't know that person was there.

That's so cute... What's your name again?

There's a girl in my ward that I'm rather fond of, and her roommate plays soccer with us, so I've been going over there rather frequently to invite the roommate to soccer practices and remind her of the games in hopes that I'd be able to talk to this girl that I like. Last night I went over there and the girl I liked wasn't there, so I was sitting around talking with the soccer roommate. Then the girl came home, and when she walked in the door she looked around, and went back to her room without talking to anyone, and didn't come back out. Have I been successful in giving the wrong impression about which roommate I'm interested in?

I'm so strong

I think the most embarrassing part about working out is seeing all of the girls that can lift more than me. Some of them even put weights on the bars. Can you believe it? I'm jealous.

The Universe

I'm pleased to announce that the universe is on its way back to making sense again, as problem #1 has been remedied. I'll start posting again now.

Breaking up

The universe is falling apart. Let me explain:

1. The two most perfect people that I know are in my ward, and they've been dating and everything was beautiful until they unexpectedly broke up. I know its not really any of my business, and so this is kind of stupid, but I feel kind of heartbroken about it. I mean, for one thing, the guy is a friend of mine and I'm sad that it didn't work out for him, but there's more than just empathy going on here: If these two can't make it work out, then what chance do us normal people have?
   
2. The elders' quorum broke up. They split it and made two quorums. I'm not an expert on this, but my understanding is that the upper limit on and elders' quorum is 96 members. Well, I figure that there are a maximum of 24 guys in my building, plus 4 in Continental, so there would have to be 68 guys in the condos and out of ward boundaries to have enough to really split the quorum. What are they thinking?
   
3. Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston are getting a divorce.

Do I need more evidence? The world is coming to an end.