New England

I've never been to the east coast before, so Kelly used to try and describe it to me so I'd know what it was like where she grew up. She'd tell me about all of the trees and the weird winding roads and everything, and I really had a hard time imagining a place where the houses were just built with woods surrounding them and no fences, so you could run through the forest in your backyard.

Well, now I'm here in Connecticut visiting her, so I see how everything is like she described. However, it didn't seem as strange as I'd thought just by the description. In fact, I recognized the place as we drove in to Danbury that first night: New England is where all of the horror movies take place.

That was a comforting realization as I was about to meet my girlfriend's family for the first time.

Trump

Is Donald Trump famous for anything? Isn't it just for being rich? Well we went to the Trump Tower in New York yesterday, and that place is a dump. I expected more out of a guy whose whole thing is being rich. Shouldn't the place be posh or something? Both the elevator and the escalator in the place were broken, and the little dining room we ate in was about as fancy as a Flying J. And all of the brass doesn't make it look expensive---no more than a mall food court, anyway.

C For Cookie

Opera is the new Firefox

I recently started using a new browser. I started looking for a new browser because of how slow and memory-draining Firefox is. Internet Explorer is better in these areas, mostly because it shares memory with the rest of Windows (which is kind of cheating, and an issue in itself), but I wasn't willing to switch back to Internet Explorer and further foster the monopoly of a browser that's not developer-friendly. (As a developer myself, that's important to me.)

So I started looking for a new browser, and this is the result of my search: Opera. It is supposedly less memory-intensive and even more standards-compliant than Firefox. I'd used it at work before, but not extensively and only to test my web pages and see if they worked. Previous versions of the browser advertisingted by a built-in advertizing bar, so that was kind of a deterrent to give it much of a try. The newest version, though, is completely free, so now I'm going to give it a chance and see if it can live up to my expectations.

The first thing I noticed about switching to Opera is that it is different. The interface is unique in a lot of subtle ways, so I've been having a harder time switching from Firefox to Opera than I had switching from Internet Explorer to Firefox. It might be a process and I'm not sure if I'll stay with it, but I'm excited to be giving it a try.

Nightmare Before Christmas: Sally (updated)

In honor of the re-release of Nightmare Before Christmas, I thought I'd write some thoughts I had from the last time I watched it. I realize that these things stand out to me because of my theory about the spiritual meaning of the movie, but I'm ok with that. It's part of what makes the movie special to me.

If you haven't seen the movie (not that I can imagine that being the case), you might not want to read this until after you've seen it at least once. I just don't want to ruin it for anyone.

First, I noticed how bright and colorful Christmas town is compared to Halloween town. Almost everything in Halloween town is some shade of gray. Except Sally. I didn't realize this until later, but Sally has colored hair and a colorful dress and is filled with colored leaves. She's different.

Then, when she overhears Jack's song about his soul searching, she says she knows how he feels. Also, contrast her attitude and that of Jack with the rest of the town. Jack's tired of the same old thing, just turning on his wheels, and Sally doesn't want to be locked up in her house--she wants to be free.

Also, Sally has visions. She knows that Jack's pirating of Halloween is a bad idea.

I think the things about Sally are cool with the idea that the movie is really about Jack's dealing with spiritual awakening. Based on the differences between Sally and the others, I think Sally is already a spiritual person. It makes this conversation more meaningful:

SALLY
You don't look like yourself Jack, not at all.

JACK
Isn't that wonderful. It couldn't be more wonderful!

SALLY
But you're the Pumpkin King.

JACK
Not anymore. And I feel so much better now.

SALLY
Jack, I know you think something's missing. But --

Anyway, there's just some things to think about. I hope you watch the movie again.

Update
I went to see the movie in 3-D tonight and I thought it was great. There weren't any new scenes or weird 3-D things, but I'm really glad that they used the original footage to make it instead of doing some hokey George-Lucas-like thing with it. The new format just made it seem more real and alive. Go see it.

White and Nerdy

Rage Against some guy's Machine

A few minutes ago I was in the parking lot looking for a spot. I came to an empty spot and didn't quite see it until I was too far forward to get into it. I would have backed up, but the SUV behind me was following me so close that I think his bumper was actually hovering over mine. I pulled to the side so that he would go past and let me back up to get to the spot.

As he drove past, I made a not-BYU-approved gesture at him. The man stopped his car and got out. Now he was an older man, late 40's probably, so I was a little surprised to see him respond with the "step up" attitude. I would normally have no problems shouting not-BYU-approved words at him, but when he got out of his car, so did the passenger: A dark-haired, sunglass-wearing man, about the size and shape of a refrigerator. He looked dangerously like a mob bodyguard from movies.

And so, I sat sheepishly in my car mouthing not-BYU-approved words and hoping that they would move on without making an example out of me.

Pizza

If you worked at a pizza delivery store, and one night there was a particularly long wait, would you tell this to customers before or after you charged them?

Gabe Unleashed

One night this summer I was sitting around with Tyler, Lillywhite, and Roundy. We were planning on seeing some movie, but this brought up a vicious debate: In a theater, or at a drive-in?

Our discussion was thorough and heated. We talked about every possible aspect of the experience: company, screen size, sound quality, noise, etc. Somehow, despite a very thorough analysis, we couldn't come to a consensus. It's surprising, I know.

Of course we couldn't just leave it up to differing opinions because... well, I don't know why. But we were all convinced that there was a single best way to see a movie, and each party was determined to have the other party give in. Then we thought of something upon which we all could agree: Gabe.

We agreed that we would call Gabe and ask Him which was better, the drive-in, or the theater. We agreed that would be the end of it and whatever he said would be the right answer. We made the call, and truth prevailed.



Since Gabe has moved to New York, I wonder how many of us feel that our searches for truth have been stiffled. I've come up with a solution: Query Gabriel (dot com). The basic idea is that we can all post questions that we have, about any topic, and Gabe has to answer them.

Happy Birthday, Gabe. Thanks for your gift. To us.

This site is the new dictionary (dot com)

Not too long ago Dictionary.com got their own abridged version of the Random House dictionary. Naturally, this became the site's dictionary of choice, and so the American Heritage dictionary (which had been the first entry on that site) slipped to second choice. The new abridged entries are so long that it's hard to even find the good entries underneath them.

The American Heritage is my favorite. I like how concise it is and I think it has the most thorough etymologies and usage notes. When Dictionary.com switched their preferred dictionary, I started looking to switch my preferred Web site.

The end of my search is this: TheFreeDictionary.com. The site can do specialized searches in computing, medical, legal and financial dictionaries, as well as searching sites like Google and Wikipedia. The most important to me, though, is that the regular dictionary entries use the American Heritage dictionary.

I even found a search plugin so that I could replace Dictionary.com in the Mozilla search bar. You can get it here (there are plugins for each of the searches, and the last one that is the plain dictionary search).

200th Post!

Wasted.

Not in the Men's Room

There's certain etiquette involved in using public restrooms. I don't know if women have the same unspoken rules, but there are things that you don't do in the men's room:

• You don't look over the little divider at the equipment of your neighbor.
• You don't use the urinal next to a guy when you can use one that gives you a buffer.
  
• You don't make eye contact with a person while you or he have your equipment unsheathed.
  
• You don't ever touch anyone.

Everyone knows these, right?


So I'm in the bathroom in the Talmage building (which is where the computer and math nerds spent most of their time at BYU) blowing my nose. (I have a cold.) There's a dandruff-ridden fellow (somehow typical of people in my major) pacing the bathroom, apparently waiting for a toilet stall to open up. He looks at me and says something unintelligible. I hadn't really paid him any mind until now, so I have to ask him what he said.

"Rub me the wrong way," he repeats to me. I think I just looked at him blankly, not knowing what the heck he was talking about, and half-wondering if he was threatening me in some kind of "I'll bring a gun to school next time" way. You know, like when that guy in the bar tells Luke Skywalker that he doesn't like him, right before trying to kill him.

Then I realize that he's making some kind of joke about my shirt. It says "Rub me for luck."

"Oh, my shirt. Yeah." I turn away from him and start washing my hands, hoping that if I ignore him he'll ignore me. I'm not even looking at him. I'm just washing my hands. Minding my own business.


Before I know what's happening, the fellow comes up and puts his arms around me, and starts singing "Shake that thing" from the Sean Paul song.

My brain went into panic mode here, I think, and I just turned around and walk briskly out the door. I didn't say anything or even look at him. For some reason, I still managed to grab a paper towel on the way out to dry my hands.

Assembly Line

One of the biggest problems with Wendy's is that they take forever. Part of this is probably just due to the fact that they're popular and usually busy (especially around mealtime), but the other part is just a lack of efficiency. For some reason the person that takes your order needs to wait until its done before they can take the next person's order.


Now I admit that it's been a while since I've been to Wendy's (excluding the drive-through, of course), so it's possible that they've been working to fix this problem for a while, but today was the first time that I saw their assembly line in action. And I just have to say, that those people are not smart enough to work in assembly lines.

They had it broken down more than most places. One lady took my order, then a second had me pay for it, and then some idiot in a yellow shirt (which I can only assume was a symbol of his being a leader of the other idiots) actually put it together and handed it to me.

This last idiot threw my receipt away twice. I mean, once could be attributed to not knowing that I wanted to keep it, but the second time he should have known better. He also gave me the wrong burger. (In my opinion the difference between a single and a Big Bacon Classic is significant.) He also filled my cup all of the way up with ice, so that there was only room in it for about two swallows of Coke.

Maybe that last part is a different problem. I mean, would it kill them to put the fountain drinks on our side of the counter like every other fast food place? Do refills really hurt them that bad? I guess I can talk to the yellow-shirt idiot about it. I think he's the big decision maker.

In a nutshell

The Wikipedia article on Libertarianism says this:

Libertarianism is a political philosophy advocating that individuals should be free to do whatever they wish with their person or property, as long as they do not infringe on the same liberty of others.

I think that's a very good explanation. Sometimes the complaints that people have about libertarianism are really about some specific application, an interpretation by some group of libertarians, or some subset of related philosophies; and not with the libertarian ideals themselves.

Rat Food

Last night I took Kelly on a fancy date to the Food Court. We ate at Orange Julius and Hot Dog on a Stick, both places that (as far as I know) can only be found in mall food courts. I told Kelly that she should blog the experience (to make all of the other girls jealous), but she rightly pointed out that food blogs are my territory.

First, Orange Julius. Did that place used to be good? It's been a long time since I've had anything from that place, but I swear I remember liking it. I was wrong. The Orange Julius was mostly crushed ice, with only a squirt of over-ripe orange as a poor excuse for flavor. If you used to like them, I suggest leaving it in the realm of memory.

As for Hot Dog on a Stick, I'd never been there, but I respect the establishment for its ability to generate mockery from every TV show ever set in a mall. I loved it for the same reason that Kelly didn't: Everything is fried. I'm sure for years the only thing they served was corn dogs, but they have expanded into battered and fried cheese. Disgustingly awesome.

9/12 - posts ignored

I'm not a very good reader. I mean, I read slowly. I remember one of my teachers telling some story about his time in college and having made fun of someone saying that, "if your lips move when you read, you won't be able to keep up in this class." I think I chuckled and pretended that I couldn't imagine reading that way.

So sometimes there are blog posts that I just have a really hard time getting through. I'm really sorry. I'm sure they say very interesting things and I'm sure I'd like to participate in some kind of discussion about it, but I just can't seem to get through those long posts.

I mean, I'm not criticizing the long posts. Not exactly, anyway. I have, on occasion, written a long post. I don't know how else I could have done it if I had something to say that took a lot of words to get out. All I'm saying, is that if I were me, I wouldn't read those long posts that I've written. And I don't read other people's long posts very often, either. Sorry about that.

Dreaded Morning Cycle

I'm sitting here in the living room postponing my bedtime. This isn't an unusual occurrence for me, but tonight I'm not worried about a restless sleep or about getting up in the morning or even about school or the work I should have done. I'm worried about the fact that I have to shave in the morning.

Shaving isn't easy on my face. I mean, when I'm actually shaving everything feels really nice and I like having a clean shave when I'm done. It's not usually until the next day that my hairs start debating amongst themselves whether they are going to grow back on my face, or under it. I can't shave every day because my face needs a few days rest in between shaves so that it can recover a little bit. Since I'm blond, no one really notices anyway.

Even though my face isn't ready for another shave tomorrow, it's getting one. The professor of my class tomorrow morning is the chair of my department and the assistant dean of my college, so I kind of feel like I need to be a little more diligent with the daily cleanliness of my shave. College is dangerous.

When the World was Flat

Listening to a Dave Matthews' song today made me think of some talk that I've heard regarding science, both in favor and against it. Mostly I hear misconceptions about the use of the word theory, on both sides. The mystics say that something is "just a theory", while the science students insist that in science, theory is fact. Of course, neither are correct.

We have a certain set of facts -- things that are known to be true by verifiable, repeatable experience. Science takes these facts, and builds theories about the nature of universe such that the theories are consistent with all of the facts. These theories are conclusions drawn from the facts, they are not the facts themselves.

The scientific method cannot prove the theories, it can only disprove them. An experiment collects empirical evidence (that is, facts that are experienced and/or recorded by our senses or instruments used to enhance them) and checks if they support a given theory. If they do, then the theory stands, and if not, then the theory has been disproved.

The science students misrepresent scientific theory when they call it "fact." That's not what science is. A theory that stood for decades or centuries can still be disproved and replaced by a new theory. It has happened and is still happening. The religion students misrepresent science, too, by implying that the word "theory" means that it holds no weight. It's silly to try and discredit a theory when it still holds as the best explanation of the world around us, and not for a lack of attempts to disprove it.

I'm not Caucasian

Why is it that "white" and "Caucasian" have become synonyms?

I realize that if you just want to describe a person's skin color, that there's not many people that are more "white" than I am. However, if what you want to describe is a person's ethnicity, then I could be Dutch or Irish or English or Danish or Spanish, but none of those people are from the Caucasus mountains. Just because my ancestry is European and my skin color is white, does not make me belong to this invented ethnic group.

I think the real reason that term gets used is because the people that ask the question aren't interested in ethnicity or culture or heritage or anything like it, but are actually only concerned with skin color, and have discovered that ethnicity is a way to disguise that interest to people who don't like being categorized by their color.

Identity theft really happens (This is a serious post)

I've never really had any close experience with identity theft before, but I had a close call with it today.

I got an email from PayPal saying that they needed the users to make updates on their accounts within the next two days. It sounded like a big deal, so I clicked the link to update whatever they needed.

PayPal came up like normal, and asked me for my user name and password to log in, which I provided to get in to the site. I didn't notice anything was wrong until Firefox asked me if I wanted it to remember the password. I said yes, but I wondered why it didn't already know that password. I use PayPal all the time. Then I saw in the address bar what I wished I'd seen from the start: This wasn't PayPal at all. This was some other site with another address that was posing as PayPal.

This is where I went into panic mode. I'd already hit submit on the login. I didn't fill out any of the resulting page asking for my personal information, but I had already submitted my password. Now what could I do? I hurriedly went to the real PayPal site and changed my password before the con-persons could do anything with the information I'd just given them.

And now I've spent the last few hours changing all of my other important passwords, just in case the spoofers are smart enough to use that little bit of information they got.

I reported the site to PayPal, but I don't know what else I can do. Does anyone know how to report this kind of thing to any kind of law enforcement, or is that even possible?

I was going to include the fraudulent email itself, as well as a quote from the actual PayPal site about how to tell a spoofed email from a legit one, but since I'm feeling very paranoid right now I decided that I didn't actually want to quote the con-artists or link to them. Instead, here's the problems with the email that I should have noticed (but didn't, at least not right away):

• The email didn't know my name. It referred to me generically as a PayPal member. PayPal (and hopefully other sites with privileged information) know your name and will address you by it.
• The link didn't go to PayPal's site. I should have noticed this right away, but I'm glad I did eventually notice it before I made a worse problem. If you're looking at an email that wants you to click a link, here's what you should do:

  Hover over the link. In the status bar (that's the little gray bar at the bottom of your browser) it will say the address to which the link points. If the text for the link is an address, make sure they match. (In my case they didn't.) Otherwise, just make sure that the address looks like what you'd normally see for the given Web site (i.e., www.paypal.com if the link is supposed to take you to PayPal). Likewise, when you're entering your password or personal information in the destination Web site, look at the address bar at the top and make sure that you are.
  

I consider myself pretty aware and hard to fool when it comes to the Internets and computers, but this email and its Web site looked official enough that I didn't even worry about it. I'm glad I noticed the problem when I did, but I'm afraid that some people probably wouldn't have noticed, nor known what they should be watching for. I just thought I'd post about this so that other people could be aware and hopefully a little more cautious. Good luck. It's dangerous out there.

Cucumber is the new lemon

Lemon. Not awesome.

At Christina's wedding reception tonight they had a jug of water (with an obnoxiously hard to use spout, which is entirely beside the point) that had a bunch of cucumbers at the top of it. It was really good. I think that's my new favorite flavor of water.

"Yes, waiter, can I have a cucumber wedge with my water?"

And lemon wasn't my old favorite flavor of water. Water was my old favorite flavor of water. Except now it's cucumber.

An Inconvenient Truth

A few weeks ago, Loyd posted a blog about a movie called "An Inconvenient Truth." I don't think I even read the entire thing, because I have certain biases about environmental issues. Let me just explain:

Al Gore

I didn't vote in the 2000 election, either, because I was on my mission. I didn't know anything about the issues, and the only thing I knew about Gore was that he was the robot that invented the Internet.

The Environment

I'm down with the environment.

Environmentalists

I think they're wackos that are so fanatic about the environment that they fail to see the solution to their own issues. (Just for the record, that's also what I think of most libertarians.)

Global Warming

I haven't been convinced if it is a real thing or not. I realize that they've been doing research on the issue for a lot of years, but even if they'd been doing it for one hundred years (which they haven't been), I don't think that's anywhere near the data that they'd need to make a claim that the Earth's temperature were rising (anymore than it would normally, as part of the Earth's natural cycles), let alone that we as humans have anything to do the rising.

So I went to see this movie on Friday, grudgingly giving in to Kelly's desire to see it. I went into the movie with a lot of skepticism, and I have to say that I was very impressed with how thorough the movie was. I don't really care about how well made it was or about the feel-good elements or anything; I don't care about Gore-propaganda (and I mean that I really don't care, I have no feelings about him, neither positive nor negative); For me the most important part of the movie was the data. It showed a lot of graphs and addressed every counter-argument that I'd ever thought of or heard about.

For me the most impressive piece of evidence was the core samples. At first, Gore just showed the graph of the data that they'd been collecting since the late 50's. I'd seen that before, and I wasn't impressed. It definitely shows that the carbon levels and the temperature are increasing, but so what? That's not sufficient to show that it's not a natural cycle. Then I learned that they have been taking samples of the ice in glaciers and in Antarctica, and that they can see what the temperature and carbon levels were up to 650,000 years ago. Over that time you can see the past seven ice ages, and you can see the Earth's natural temperature (and related carbon) cycle. Then you can see that within the last 100 years we've doubled the carbon levels over what they've been any time in the Earth's history. You can see that the increase is exponential, and doesn't fit into the cycle at all.

I can't detail everything that the movie talked about, but just what impressed me about it. One of the things that I felt after the movie was just that I was sad that I hadn't known about any of this sooner. I don't think this is new evidence, but just that it hasn't been made publicly available. Or at least it hasn't been in front of my face before. I guess if I'd cared about the issue I could have looked into it on my own and probably found some of this out, but realistically, what incentive could I have had to look into it on my own? Why would I research it personally if I hadn't ever been convinced that it was an issue that I should be concerned about it? And how many people are like me, in that they would care about the environment if they were convinced that it were in danger, but simply haven't seen any evidence? And how many of those will continue that way despite this movie? Would I have continued in my ignorance if I hadn't been dating Kelly? Do we choose to stay ignorant because we don't know any better, based on the limited evidence we've seen, or do we do it knowingly? Are we close-minded because of political prejudices, or just because it's scary to think that we've done this and that it'll be hard to fix?

The other thing that I realized, besides simply that global warming is actually occurring, is that it is occurring now. This isn't a problem that our children's children will have to face, it's a problem that is already killing people. I'm sure not everyone thinks about things the same way as I do, but I've certainly noticed the increase in natural disaster that's happened in my lifetime. I've considered it as part of the signs of the times, and fulfillment of revelation. It never occurred to me at all that we were causing these things because we have been altering the climate of our planet. I wonder how many religious people are like me, and recognize the signs without recognizing the causes.

[insert word that won't be read] is new awesome

I guess if you're reading this post then you're not as sick of that title as I am. I don't think I even notice what the new awesome is anymore, I just see a block of repetition on my page taking up space and try not to look at it too hard.

You might be asking yourself, "Well Provo Platinum is Bryant's stupid web site, why doesn't he just take them off if he's sick of it?" Well, I don't have a good answer for that, except that Kim didn't like it when I deleted the self-proclaimed "white-skinned goddess", even though I think we all know that it gets tiring to hear the new cutest thing that the ear doctor did. I mean, I don't think people need to censor themselves, and I know that she's free to post about whatever she wants and I don't have to read it if I don't want to. So, I don't want to.

Maybe the reason that I leave TNA on the site is just because Becca is my friend (at least vicariously), whereas the white girl hates (or hated) my guts. I'm sure both of them are completely indifferent to whether they are on my site or not, and so it's really just for Kim's benefit that they're there at all. Becca's site might actually be interesting if they would get over the name thing. Seriously, it was clever at first and even addicting for a minute, but it's not funny anymore.

I know, this is all my fault and I should just be keeping it to myself, but I'm going to force everyone to read the stupid thoughts in my head. For a long time now I've been meaning to add some features to Provo Platinum that would let people customize the page for themselves, but I haven't gotten around to it. I'd like to say that it's because I'm so busy being productive, but it's really because I'm made of 87% lard and it's hard to type on the keyboard on my squishier days.

Movie Reviews

Yesterday I was looking up the schedule for the new Pirates of the Caribbean and the Yahoo movies web site suggested that X-men 3 might be a movie I would like. I'm pretty sure that Yahoo simply recommends every new movie, and that there's no science to it, but since I really wanted the Internet(s) to know how much I hated that movie, I wrote this big long review about all of the things wrong with it. And then my computer freaked out so I shut down the browser and forgot that I hadn't saved my review. So now it's gone.

Here's a new review. We did watch Pirates last night. I was a little worried about a sequel to such a sweet movie, since producers have a tendency to ruin sequels. At the beginning of the movie when the first supernatural person showed up, I was further worried that the movie was going to be unbelievable or hokey.

Then I remembered: This is the sequel to a movie about undead pirates. Undead. Pirates. The first movie wasn't so great because of it's deep message or moving story, nor because it was realistic. It was great because it was AWESOME. Undead pirates! So while this movie was probably even more ridiculously outrageous than the last movie, that is exactly why it rules.

In conclusion, go see this movie. Don't listen to ninjas. They're just jealous.

Call to Arms

This is my first post (in a while), so sorry I'm not very good at it, anymore. Well, if you haven't read my blog before, my name's Bryant. People call me B. Or Be. Or sometimes Bx (the X is silent). I've been meaning to blog about the origin and variations, but I guess we'll see if this post works first.

So, I'm sure that everyone's noticed that the blogs have been getting pretty scarce lately on Provo Platinum, so my real purpose with this point is just to ask all of the readers to rally together. I know, I've been neglecting the community myself, but even if I start blogging more, I can't do it all on my own. So, if you're reading this, stop what you're doing and write a blog post. It's not hard. It doesn't even have to be good. I know that this one isn't.

Well, while I'm at it, I just want to give a shout out to my blogging guru. That's Loyd, in case everyone didn't really know that. He likes to refer to all of the people that I've gotten started at blogging as his blogging grandchildren. I think there might even be a great grandchild or two on Provo Platinum. At least he's been keeping it real with the blogging, and I'm sure he would continue to have interesting things to freak people out with if the governor weren't trying to get him kicked out of college.

And here's a shout out to Ronnie for reminding me of my blogging duties, and for helping me know how to write a proper first post: Shout.

Philosophy and truth

I believe in an objective reality: I think that things are a certain way, independent of how we perceive them, and that there is an absolute Truth. In saying this, I don't mean to imply that my interpretation of reality is that Truth, but that such a Truth exists. I don't think I have perfect information, or that my reasoning is right, but simply that there is a Right.

I realize that there are philosophies that do not embrace this idea, but that portray a relative truth. I have had a hard time understanding how anyone believes in a philosophy that seems so contrary to reason, and so sometimes relativistic philosophies are frustrating to me. I maintain that an absolute Truth is the only logical conclusion (and I would be surprised if anyone could present a logical alternative), however, as I think about the actual question between truth as an absolute or as a relative thing, I realize that it is less simple than just whether there is a logical solution.

Ayn Rand explains in an essay called "Philosophy: Who needs it?" (which I won't quote directly because she's too long-winded to have any kind of nice summary statement) that a person needs a philosophy so that they are capable of acting in the world that surrounds them: so they are capable of living.

If the philosophies that we choose to believe are what enable us to act, then an accurate view of reality is not necessarily the primary concern when a person accepts a belief system. Rather, it is whether that belief helps the person live in a way that is acceptable to themselves. I think it's because of this that people tend to latch onto statements that are more pretty than they are true. Sometimes it doesn't matter if what a person believes is True, it only matter if it works for them. (Two of my favorite movies present this idea beautifully, but until today I don't think I appreciated that.)

I guess my point with this is that although the idea of an objective reality is important to me, and the idea of a Truth is something that I value, I can understand why some people choose to believe in a more relative idea of truth and reality. I admit, too, that sometimes it's frustrating or confusing for me to have such an idea of reality and truth, and that it is often difficult for me to reconcile things that I believe to be true but that appear to contradict each other, and so I also admit that there is a certain appeal to a belief system that doesn't require me to resolve such contradictions. I choose to believe in a Truth, even though that is sometimes confusing and frustrating to me, but I'll accept that not everyone makes the same choice, and that's ok for them.

Home Depot

There's a Home Depot right by Troy's new house, so while we've been working on the house we've gone there several times a day. Today we were there looking for fasteners for a door and we were tired and miserable and we just wanted to go home and sleep instead of finishing the project. We still got all of our stuff and then when we left we were goofing around on the way back home and then we realized it: we weren't tired and miserable from the project, but from being at Home Depot. I think they have some kind of security device that sucks the life out of people. I'm not sure what the diabolical purpose behind that is, yet, but I think I've had my life span shortened by several years because of all the visits to Home Depot this week.

Shopping

The worst part about going shopping is making decisions about what to buy. This is what makes a simple trip to buy pants take 45 minutes and result in a suicide attempt. Maybe it can't be avoided when no pair of pants fits right and you're just trying to minimize your loss, but I discovered that it's also hard to make decisions when every product is awesome.

Today Troy and I spent an hour at Home Depot staring at crowbars. It was hard to decide which one was right for dismantling a kitchen. Do you go with a thin bar or a Fat Max? Which is more important for a crowbar, the Wonder or the Super? And is the Super Wonder too much? And is the mini Wonder any more useful than a hammer claw? And if you get a hammer, do you need to be worried about hitting something with a knurled hammer head? Or if you hit something with a hammer that big is it going to break anyway? Do you want a wood or fiberglass handle? Can you say the word "hickory" without saying "dickory" immediately after? Does the Earwig hammer work better? If your hammer claw is really pointy does it become a tomahawk? And is a hatchet with a hammer on the back more or less of a tomahawk than a hammer with a hatchet on the back? If a mallet has a white head does it leave less marks than a mallet with a black head? If you had a mallet with both heads how would you decide which one to use? Does the bounce-resistant head really work? Does a comparison change if you swing it with your left hand instead of your right? And why are we looking at mallets, anyway?

See? Shopping is exhausting.

In honor of Mother's Day

Side-effects

Yesterday I had a Risk hang-over. I don't really know what that means, but I woke up in a daze with my clothes still on from the night before (the daze being the unusual part of that). Russ fed me some cereal, and in my stupor I bit my tongue eating it. I guess I bit it pretty hard. I think there was bleeding involved, but I can't be too sure (because of the stupor). Bleeding or not, I do have evidence of the fact that I bit it hard because it keeps hurting two days later. A few minutes ago I was talking to my boss and I realized that I had somehow developed a speech impediment. I don't know what my point is, except maybe that Risk is bad for you.

College

Here's a little information that I got from Kelly's biology notes while she was studying:

In a deuterostome, the blastopore becomes the anus. Of course, in a protostome, the blastopore becomes the mouth.

And that, is why it's important to go to college.

Soulforce

So I went to uber-gay day this week. It's been requested that I write about it. I'm not exactly as experienced as some at the sociopolitical posts, so this might end up taking a different tone than my requesters are expecting.

The basic scoop is that this group called Soulforce came to BYU this week as part of their tour to "end religious oppression" of GLBT's (which isn't a sandwich, but just an acronym for all of the different flavors of gay). I haven't seen any of the things they've done on campus this week (mostly because it's a rare occasion when I actually get up to school), but Loyd and I did go to the rally that they had on Monday at Kiwanis park.

When we got there the first thing that we saw was some girl in a suit playing guitar and singing poorly while another girl backed her up on the bongos. My first impression was that it would just be a party where everyone lounged around and played hacky-sack while some almost-band played hippie music (see Bio-dome for details). I was mistaken, thankfully, because then another girl got up and told about why Soulforce had come to BYU. She said that their main purpose was to open a dialog between students and the administration about the issue of homosexuality, so that it wouldn't keep being a closet-issue.

I'm too lazy to write all of the details about what everyone said (and if you're anything like me, then you're probably too lazy to read it, anyway). Most of all I was impressed with how courteous everyone was regarding BYU and the LDS Church, despite their obvious issues with the policies. The last guy that spoke was a current student at BYU, and what he said was significant to me. I can't remember all of the details and I won't try because I wouldn't do it justice, but he just told of his life being mormon and still feeling an attraction to men. I was impressed with how sincere he was as he told about dealing with his feelings and the attitudes of various family and church members while still striving to be true to his faith. Maybe he'll post his talk on the Internet and everyone can read it, but probably you'll just have to take my word for it that it was a moving talk.

So, the truth is that I have a lot of thoughts on this issue and how it affects and is affected by my religion. Most of my thoughts I'm not really sure about, and I'm not going to air them out here. Instead, here are a few things that the rally and subsequent conversations about it have made me think about:

1. I think a person should be free to live how they feel is right, and just because someone else feels that they aren't living right doesn't give them a right to force the first person to live differently. I've always thought, though, that a person still needs to make a decision about how they choose to live their life. If a person believes that Mormonism (or Christianity or anything else) is right, then they have the privilege of living according to those ideals, and if they believe that it is right for them to follow homosexual feelings, then they can live according to that ideal, but if the two conflict then they need to choose what to believe and how to live. Hearing the people at the rally made me question whether it's as clear-cut as that: Just because a person has homosexual feelings and doesn't feel it's right to suppress or change them, doesn't mean that they don't believe in Christ or Joseph Smith or the restored gospel, so it's not that simple to decide whether they'll be lonely and Mormon or happy and exiled from their faith.
2. This one isn't even just about homosexuality and religion, but that's just one issue in a larger set of things that I think and worry about. Recently I've thought about a lot of things that I don't know how to reconcile with my beliefs about my religion, and it stresses me out. A lot of people tell me not to worry about the things that I do, saying things like "it's not essential for your salvation," or that since I don't affect policy that it's not my place to figure it out. I firmly believe that all truths cooperate and agree with each other. I think it's good to figure out how different truths fit together, but some conversations that I've had this week made me realize that I don't need to stress myself out about it. Stefani told me the other day, "Don't let what bothers you consume you." I think that's wise advice. I might not be sure about some things, and I can keep trying to figure them out, but in the meantime I don't need to let myself be confused or stressed about those things that I already know are true.
3. There is one thing that I can figure out and that I think all of us can, and it's definitely within our realm of stewardship, because the only policy that it affects is our own, individual, behavior. This been a non-issue to me, because it's something that I think everyone should already know and understand, but I might be wrong about that. Maybe this is the only real important issue, because this is the part that people don't pick up on and that ultimately ends up hurting others. The issue is, of course, that we can still love and have compassion on people independent of their sexual preference, the things that they believe in, and/or how they live their lives. I think that if members of the Church were more consistently loving and understanding of individuals that have homosexual feelings, then there wouldn't even need to be a rally or a protest or anything of the like, because the mormons and BYU students that deal with same-sex attraction would still feel loved and accepted regardless of any doctrinal issues that they dealt with.
   

I'm not sure if any of that made sense to anyone but me, so I've probably just created a long, boring post that Ronnie will criticize me for later. Oh, well, he's gay anyway.

Prosecutors will be Violated

There's this garbage can at our apartment building, right by the mailbox. It's a convenient location, and I'm sure it would be even more so if I ever checked the mail. (Instead, I throw away my bills after my roommates bring them up to me.)
On top of this garbage can is a paper sign, taped on, that tells me that I can only put paper (for recycling) in this garbage can. Now, I don't have anything against recycling. It's not one of the things that I think is a big deal, but when people feel like going out of their way to recycle, I can respect that. The problem I have with this thing is the statement, "Violators will be prosecuted." I can't believe that the Management would actually take legal action against anyone who dirties up the recycle bin. I mean, if they'd have asked nicely, I'm sure I would have complied. I mean, I realize I'm not the nicest guy around, but I do my best to not walk on the grass and not smoke when I'm asked. But seriously, who can blame a guy for throwing a plastic bottle into a can that's labeled like this? It's like they're daring me to do it. I say that if they get a good wad of gum in there, or, say, a shoe, every now and then, that it's their own fault.

Bulldog (Ave.) Rivalry

Grimace: I saw him with you last night.
Oven Mitt: And? He was with you yesterday morning!
Grimace: You must be mistaken....
Oven Mitt: Oh, no. You sit there all high and mighty all day long with your glowing neon tubes. Don't think I don't notice.
Grimace: Well, fine, then. Maybe he was here. But can you blame him? You don't even serve breakfast. How can you ever give him what he needs?
Oven Mitt: Has it ever occurred to you that he's looking for more in a relationship? I don't need to offer him breakfast because I have great deals.
Grimace: Yeah, great deals. Like your 5 for $5? Well, maybe that will keep him coming back if what he's looking for is "cheap and easy."
Oven Mitt: Why don't you come over here and say that to my face?!
Grimace: You call that a face? You don't even have a nose. Up yours.
Oven Mitt: Slut.
Grimace: Tramp.

Master of BS

I took a test this morning (which I was supposed to take four days ago but I missed because I'm not smart enough to know the testing center's hours). The main problem with tests in computer science (or probably any mathy field) is that you can't really B.S. things like you can in a Triforce major, because there are actually right and wrong answers. The classes that I'm in now don't even give me the benefit of guessing because they have big long questions that require big long answers where you tell (or worse, show) how algorithms work.
So on this test this morning one of the questions is asking me about some security protocol that I never got around to reviewing, and I have absolutely no idea how it works. So, I ask myself, How would I do this? And in the process of asking yourself such a question, it's inevitable to make something up that almost certainly isn't the same as the thing that you were supposed to study instead of making up. This is the explanation that I gave for how a user's certificate gets verified:

The certificate-verify message is the digital signature for the previous message, signed with the client's private key, so the server only has to verify with the certificate that the signature was made using the right key to assure that they are owned by the same party.

I know you're probably reading that and thinking that you don't know enough about computers to understand it, but you're wrong: it doesn't make any sense no matter how much you know. But I sure say it like I know what I'm talking about, don't I?

A Love Story

A little while ago I got involved in a relationship that I wasn't ready for, and, like most, it ended badly. I've been a little ashamed to talk about this, but I think that enough time has passed that I should be able to let everyone know what I went through.

This whole thing happened so suddenly that it's hard to remember exactly where all of this started, but I think that it had something to do with processed meat. You see, I've always respected McDonald's for their world domination, but their food has never been a favorite. Still, for some reason a few weeks ago I found myself craving Chicken McNuggets. I don't even know why I turned to them, but it must have been that they are so plump and juicy, in a way that no marshmallow-free meat could ever compete with. Anyway, I quickly became addicted, and found myself going there night after night (encouraged by the fact that they are now open 24 hours a day).

At first it seemed as innocent as anything else, but things heated up quickly. They released a new spicy chicken sandwich which more than redeemed their previous chicken upgrades, and they gave me handfuls of coupons for free fries and drinks when I would buy the new chicken sandwich. Naturally, I started buying it a lot. Then they gave me more coupons for free cookies and milkshakes, and then they gave me some kind of frequent-eater card so that I could get a free meal after buying a few. Who knew that McDonald's even had such a thing? Where was all of this coming from? There was even a cute girl that would always be free to take my order, as if it was coincidental. I don't know if this had ever happened before, but it was clear that I was being courted by a fast food restaurant, and they were winning me over.

I guess there's various stages of love, and I think infatuation is usually the first. For a while I couldn't get enough. I was eating there every meal of the day. A few times I'd stop by and then before I had even driven all of the way home I'd feel like I needed another fix and I'd have to go back. Even Beto's hadn't gotten such traffic. I think that deep down I knew that I was headed down an unhealthy path, because I would try to throw away the boxes before I got home so that no one would know what I had been up to.

Well, maybe I'd gotten my hopes up, or maybe the infatuation wore off and I was simply left with only the reality of the situation, but one way or another things changed for me. It started when the Orem store gave me the old chicken sandwich (which isn't even supposed to exist anymore) and charged me the new chicken sandwich price for it (when it used to cost a dollar) and wouldn't even take my coupon for the free fries and drink. I wasn't too upset about the coupon, but I didn't realize that they'd given me the wrong sandwich until I was already driving home, and then I was stuck with the bitter remorse of having gone there. I wanted to quit then, but I guess sometimes you stick with something out of inertia even after you realize that it's not good for you.

The next time I visited the local store, I found that the cute girl at the counter, who was eager to give me coupons and have me be a frequent customer, had been replaced by a large stocky woman who looked like she had been lounging in the deep-fat fryer. She was just as eager to have me as a customer as was the last girl, but when she pulled a wad of wrinkled and ketchup-stained coupons out of her pocket to give me, I was considerably less eager to be the customer. I haven't been back since.

Well, my self-disgust has slowly faded, and now I feel like it all turned out for the best. I guess I should have known better (on several levels), but at least now I've learned not to get my hopes up, right? Right?

24

Over Christmas break I got my dad hooked on 24. Now that's all we talk about. He thought it would be fun to write a script of what the show would be like if it were about a day in our lives. Here's a basic outline of what a script for a typical one of my days would be:

12:00 pm

I wake up. Wander around the apartment moaning and coughing for about 15 minutes. I drink some water. Then I get on Halo to see if Troy is online. He's not. I play anyway.

1:00 pm

I'm still playing Halo. Halfway into the episode I get disgusted with myself and decide to "do something." Instead of showering I get on my computer. I check my email. There's an email from one of my coworkers about some problem at work that they need me to come in and fix, and some forwarded cartoon from my sister. I delete both emails and start reading blogs instead.

2:00 pm

I'm still reading blogs. I read all of my friends ones, some of them more than once, and then I make snotty comments on a few of them. I look at the clock and realize that I've missed both of my classes for the day. I decide to do some homework to make myself feel better, so I browse to my class web site and start reading the assignment that was due last week. It still looks time consuming, so I figure that I'll give myself a few minutes to look at the X-Files episode guides before I get started. (It would have been Facebook last week, but I gave that up for Lent.)

3:00 pm

I'm still looking at X-Files. I might have gone to C-net to look at some new gadget that I'll never buy, and then typed in Facebook's address, and then remembered that I can't go there and went back to X-Files.

4:00 pm

I've looked at every web page I could think of, including refreshing Provo Platinum about 8 times, and still there's no new blogs. I then realize that I haven't eaten yet today, so I get up to put shoes on and go find some food. I get ready to leave the apartment for the first time of the day, but then I remember that my car has been broken for weeks and I haven't fixed it because I'm too lazy to go downstairs and make sure that I really know what's wrong with it. I sit back on the couch and get back on the web. I start thinking about starting that homework again.

5:00 pm

The homework looks hard, so I try to think of something else to do, when I remember again that I haven't eaten. Then I go into the kitchen and look at every piece of food I have in the fridge and freezer and pantry, which fortunately are full because my grandma does my grocery shopping, so I make a microwave lasagne. While it's cooking I get on Halo (because I'd hate to waste any time just sitting around waiting for the microwave).

6:00 pm

After playing Halo for about 45 minutes I remember that I have food in the microwave. It's not warm anymore, so I cook it again. Russ gets home and makes fun of me for not having moved from the couch all day, but he keeps me busy long enough to be aware of the bell when the microwave finishes. I eat my lasagne, and then go back to the couch to work on my homework. The food is setting in, though, so I fall asleep before I can even read the web site and remind myself what it is that I've been putting off all day.

7:00 pm

I wake up at the end of the episode when Roundy comes in and asks if I've left the apartment yet today.

8:00 pm

There's now activity in the apartment, so I get up to take a shower. Right before I shower Gabe calls to see what we're doing, I tell him that the guys are just playing darts and to come up and I take a shower. When I get out of the shower, no one is around except for Gabe, who is asleep on our couch. I put pants on.

9:00 pm

Gabe wakes for long enough to complain about how weird his sleep schedule is and then wanders off. I find Aaron and Russ and we go around to some apartments so that Roundy can practice being smarmy (a quality which I think he shares with my grandpa).

10:00 pm

We come back to our apartment and I get on the Internet and tease April until Marissa gets on and virtually yells at me about it. I look up and realize that Russ and Aaron are gone. I call them again and Aaron says that they told me where they were going but I wouldn't stop paying attention to the computer long enough to listen to him so they left me. April goes to bed. I look at the blogs again and no one has written anything, so I go downstairs to Aaron's apartment. We watch Russ and Ryan play Dr. Mario and all anyone talks about is how weird Gulie is.

11:00 pm

They're still playing Dr. Mario. Ryan stops playing and gets on the Internet to look at some stupid videos, and Russ practices beating Rudy. (That's an evil clown on the game.)

12:00 am

My brain is turned off, but I think Russ is still playing Dr. Mario. Roundy goes to bed.

1:00 am

Our self-imposed curfew takes effect, and Russ and I go back up to our apartment. I sit on the couch and get back on the Internet. I don't have any email and there's no new blogs. I'm not tired yet, so I figure that I'll be really productive and write that program for my homework that I've been putting off all day. I get on the web site yet again, but before I do anything I decide to write this blog.

2:00 am

I'm awake and on the Internet. I have my program open, but I haven't made any progress on it. Carlos gets home so Russ decides that he can go to sleep now.

3:00 am

I'm still on the Internet. If anyone knows what I do during these hours, can you please tell me? As far as I know I'm in a coma.

4:00 am

Russ comes out of his room frustrated that he fell asleep reading and then woke himself up when the book fell out of his hands and onto his face. Now he's not tired and can't go back to sleep. We start talking about politics and how we ought to be the world dictators.

5:00 am

We're still talking about being dictators, but Russ decides to put a movie in and try to go back to sleep. He picks some movie from 1942 that no one has ever heard of, but it seems interesting to me, so I end up watching it and not paying attention to my homework.

6:00 am

Somewhere during this episode I end up falling asleep. Carlos comes out and has to leave to take Eva to work or something, so I wake up. The movie is still going and Russ is still awake. I go in to my bed and sleep. (That's a new part of my life in the last few months, too.)

7:00 am

I'm asleep. I have no idea what happens in the world.

8:00 am

Still asleep.

9:00 am

Still asleep. My first class starts without me on campus somewhere. (I don't know where exactly, since I haven't been to the class yet this semester.)

10:00 am

I wake up part-way through the episode and I come out to the living room. Russ is awake and has cleaned the whole apartment. I feel guilty, but not so much as to make me do anything to help him. Instead I feel less guilty just for being present while he's cleaning so I lay on the couch and start to read my physics homework. I fall back asleep.

11:00 am

I'm still asleep. Again.

And I think that's the end of the season. A day in the life of me. I don't know why they don't make me the main character in that show. Jack Bower is boring by comparison.

My Grandma's View

My grandparents came down to visit me yesterday and they brought me some groceries (which is really one of the best services a person can do me since I have no idea how to buy groceries for myself and usually just resort to letting a fast-food restaurant save me that step). Here's a few of the things that they brought me:

I'm not embarrassed to admit that I'm a chubby boy, but it seems like my grandma is also aware of this, since she insists on bringing me diet food. The vanilla in the Coke helps it not taste so much like poison, but diet peanut butter is something to which no one should ever be subject. I think it's just a better-disguised version of when Russ makes you eat a sugar packet full of salt.
It's hard for me to know if Grandma does this because she wants me to stop being such a fat lard, because in addition to the diet food, she also brought me this pile of candy (and a large portion of the accumulated popcorn in our apartment has built up from her visits):
Maybe she's just trying to balance me out so that I'll maintain my current level of obesity, never changing in one direction or the other.

Well, it is the Rockies

I really like that it felt like summer today even though there was snow on the ground. I like living in the Rockies.

Always the Real Thing

This is my family's real mail box back in Colorado. I just thought some of you might appreciate it.

Bet it all

I just made a huge monetary investment in this idea that I have. I realize that huge is relative, but based on my income level it could be all of the money that I'll ever have. I don't know if it's going to work out or not, but after a lot of contemplation I decided that even if I lose everything and nothing comes of it, it's still better than not having taken the chance and never known if my idea would have panned out.

My brother used to have this song of inconsequential title that started with a sound clip that said, "The funny thing about regret is, it's better to regret something you have done, than to regret something you haven't done." Don't look up the context or it'll ruin the quote, but I still think it's true.

Black lies

I have an attribute which some people find quite distasteful about me. The nicest way this has been described is that I am "honest to a fault." (It's definitely been described in less-friendly terms.) A good friend of mine once said to me, "Don't tell me your opinion. You're too honest."
I don't like the "white lies" that people tell others because they'd rather tell a person something that will make them feel good than tell them the truth. I think that lying in any form is wrong, and even though it sometimes means telling people what they don't want to hear and what their other friends won't say to them, I haven't felt guilty about that.
Unfortunately, I recently realized that I haven't been as honest as I'd thought. I have no problem telling the truth to someone when it's something bad about them, but I have a much harder time telling someone what I really think or feel when it's something good. I hardly ever tell my friends how much I care about them or admire them; instead I pretend that I'm indifferent to such things. It's like if it's someone else's ego on the line, then I'm perfectly willing to be honest, but if it's my own ego on the line (maybe for embarrassment or fear of rejection or fear of commitment or whatever it is that prevents me from saying nice things to people that I care about), then I hide my real opinions.
I'm a much worse type of liar than all of the people that tell their "white lies," because I tell lies that keep me from telling someone how much I appreciate them. I'm a liar that protects my own feelings instead of those of others.

A Golden Winged Ship

Just when I'd thought that all of my hopes and dreams were ruined, and that I could never have what I wanted, everything changed.
Today I was talking with my therapist (my physical therapist, not the other one), and I asked him if I could start using a cane instead of crutches. He laughed at me, but he did consent that it wouldn't hurt anything and that I could use a cane. I'm so excited. And you should be, too.

Hyper-sensitive

The other day I was chatting with Stefani (her name be praised, this week) and Marissa dropped by. For some reason I suddenly felt like I needed a hug, so I asked Marissa for a hug. She was rightly skeptical, since I've probably never willingly given or received a hug before, and she thought I was playing some kind of trick on her. I got upset that she didn't trust me and banished her from my presence. (That makes me sound powerful and slightly evil.)
As soon as Marissa left, Stefani scolded me for being stupid, and told me to stop being so hyper-sensitive. (Sound familiar?)
So, I don't know what the heck is wrong with me lately, but that's just a single example that made me realize how imbalanced I am. I think I've been getting bothered by silly little things a lot lately, though. So, anyway, if I've recently freaked out on you (or if I do in the near future), I'm sorry for being stupid, and please be patient with me.
I'd like to blame it on the drugs, but maybe I'm just crabby and need a nap.

Being Stefani

This weekend Tyler stopped by for a few before his brother's wedding reception. Aaron was over, too, and we were just sitting around chatting, and then the next thing I knew, I was waking up on the couch several hours later, and they were both gone. I'd fallen asleep in the middle of a conversation.
This surgery and the corresponding drugs make my sleeping habits drastly different. I can't stay asleep because my leg always hurts, but I can't stay awake because the drugs make me drowsy. During my first class last week I kept falling asleep, and I couldn't help it. (When I woke up and asked the guy next to me what was going on, it seemed that no one that had been conscious understood anything either, so I don't feel too bad about it.)
The point is, of course, that now I know how Stefani feels.

Best laid plans

When I went to therapy the first time after my knee surgery, they told me that I could just walk normal and use the crutches to take some of the weight off, and that putting weight on my leg wasn't going to hurt anything. I saw that I could get around pretty well this way (except maybe on stairs, in which case you should go around me, because if you're following me up it might take a while).

So, then, I got this plan, that when I was comfortable walking on the crutches, that I'd switch to a single crutch, and when I could walk on that ok, then I would switch to a cane. I was pretty excited about that last step.

I went to the doctor this week for my follow up visit, and he told me something that ruined my plan to have a cane: he said that even if I could get around ok without the crutches, that I needed to stay on them until I could walk without a limp. Well, the problem with this is that the single crutch or the cane always give a limp (that is, if you're putting any weight on them at all). So basically, I can't use a cane until after I'm well enough that I don't need one at all.

Science yields mystery (A misleading title)

At the end of last semester Stefani started making "Top Ten" lists for everyone. They were basically just her ordered lists of who she thought each person should go for. I know these things are silly and pointless, but they're kind of exciting and fun, too, so I got caught up in it.

After I made my own ordered list, though, I used a lottery technique that I learned in my Artificial Intelligence class to give a utility to each person on the list. That's a nerdy way of saying that I tried to come up with how much I liked each girl. I did this by imagining that I was dating a certain girl on the list (girl A), and I would then think what odds I would need with the girl one position higher than her on my list (girl B) before I would break up with girl A in order to take a change with girl B. Those odds are then used to quantify how much one girl is preferred to another.

(Don't think that it's inappropriate for me to apply math in this way. It's definitely nerdy, but not objectifying. It's basically the same games as MASH and other silly things that we did when we were little, it's just that now that I'm a grown-up nerd I have more high-tech ways of playing the game.)

As I was doing this I realized that my ordering had been off (and this is really the point of the story). I got to one girl, and as I was thinking what it would take for me to give her up for a chance with another girl (who I had been actively pursuing at the time), I realized that if I were dating this first girl, I wouldn't give her up for any odds with any girl. The only reason that she'd been farther down my list was because I didn't (and don't) think that I had good odds with her at all. It's almost unimaginable for her to actually like me, and so I was unwilling to admit to myself how much I liked her. Is that normal? Healthy? And what do I do with those feelings now that I've discovered them? Do I keep suppressing them, or do I embrace it, even though it's bound to disappoint me?

All time worst

Flightplan just became my all time least favorite movie. I've never been so miserable sitting through a movie as this one, nor have I even seen such poorly-written characters that I actually wanted the bad guys to win because the good guy was so annoying.
To start off with, the movie didn't develop a plot until we'd been there for 3 hours. Instead it starts off with a really paranoid mom and her little girl. You think that they're going to explain what happened to them or what they're afraid of, but no. Instead they use some flashbacks to introduce the dad, and then the writer gets distracted and forgets that he had done that, so they never go anywhere.
I have to admit that the writer did convincingly portray what a crazy, delusional woman must be going through, as well as how hard that must be on those around her. I guess someone decided that wasn't a good enough story, though, so they switched it around right at the end and made her sane, even though it meant that the story no longer could be. I don't know how they expected us to care what happened to the lady's daughter after they spent the bulk of the movie convincing us that she didn't exist.
Add in the most inept air-marshall-turned-terrorist ever and some unapologetic racism, and you have the worst movie ever. Way to go, Flightplan.

Better than Bionic

I always wanted to be like the $6 million man. Maybe for the super-human speed and strength, but maybe just for the noise that it makes when he jumps. When I hurt my knee, I'd hoped that I'd be able to have it replaced with a bionic knee: better, stronger, faster. I realize that such things probably don't exist in real life, but today I found a hope for something better: a Chuck Norris knee.
Today at my physical therapy they put me on the Total Gym, which every late-night TV watcher knows is the source of Chuck Norris's many powers. While to the average person, the Total Gym only offers a complete workout, but I figure that since my knee is in a newly reconstructed state -- like an embryo building itself up -- that my knee will be able to absorb more of the Chuck Norris's power from that Total Gym than a regular person would be able to. My Chuck Norris knee is inevitable.

Numb

Have you ever woken up after having slept on your arm wrong, and all the blood has rushed out of it, so that it's numb and just dangles there by your body and you can't move it? That's what my leg feels like right now.
I had a surgery on my knee today. Everything went fine, and I think I should probably be glad that I can't feel it right now, because it'll probably hurt when it's done being numb. When I was trying to hobble out of the car after the surgery, I was having a hard time holding the numb leg up. On one step I didn't have it high enough and my toe touched the ground while I was trying to step, so my leg wouldn't come forward. I was stuck and had to have my dad move my leg back around. It was kind of weird.

First Rejections of the New Year

Last night we went up to the First Night celebration in Salt Lake. Besides being the most poorly planned public event of the year, I think it serves as a place for desperate people to find a hook-up. Not that I'm against the idea, just that I think I'm a little bit discerning.

As we were leaving the place a girl stopped Loyd and me and asked us if we'd had our first kiss of the year. She wasn't a bad looking girl, but a little rounder than I usually go for. We looked at each other, not knowing what to say, and then I put my arm on Loyd's shoulder, and he says "I'd had mine."
The girl pretended that she thought that was cute and we walked away. That was my first time pretending to be gay to avoid a girl this year.

The Trax stop was crowded so we had to wait there for a while before getting on the train to go home. This girl across the street from us yelled "Happy New Year," and I of course responded by yelling it back. Unfortunately, this drew the beast's attention.
She yelled back that she knew me. I tried to ignore her and just kept being obnoxious to the passing cars, but she persisted, trying to think of where she would know me from. "Do you play bingo?" she yelled.
This of course, was too much, and I had to say that I did play bingo. This excited the creature, and it walked over to me, with a crooked walk and an uncanny ability to hold its belly out in front of its body. She said I went to high school with her, and asked how I'd been since then. I tried to be polite, but as soon as she was distracted for a moment I walked away as fast as I could.
That was my first time being chased by a bingo-playing monster this year.

We just walked a little further down the street to the far end of the Trax stop, and we walked past this old couple. I raised my hand to the man and said, "First high five of the new year!" He smiled and gave me a high five as I walked by. We then heard the old lady that he was with yelling at him that he had ruined her New Year's Eve. We couldn't understand everything that she was saying, so we weren't quite sure what she was so mad about. Based on her accent she was probably Romanian (because she reminded me of a gypsy), so maybe a high five is just a dirty thing in her country.
While she was fuming and not talking to him, she walked over by me. She kind of stood there next to me for a moment, trying to be sly, like she had snuck up and no one knew we were talking. I was scared. I thought she was going to yell at me for doing something so inappropriate with her husband. Instead she leaned over to me and said, "Take a picture of the old man. I'll tell you later." I was afraid to upset her craziness, so I obediently took a picture of him.
She'd stopped talking to me, so I never found out what heck, but I deleted the picture because I started to feel guilty for helping her persecute the poor guy.
That was my first time breaking up an old gypsy couple this year.