So, I've noticed a little idiosyncrasy in the Blogger system, I'm going to have to investigate. My dashboard says that I have 16 posts (before this one), but my page says that I have a total of 13. Perhaps they counted the few times that I responded to people's comments as individual posts.
I'll figure it out later, for now, cheers!
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
Disney Character Update!
So, I have a new Disney character to add to the list: Robin Hood!
A follow-up on the Aladdin comment, I have long thought that the Disney version Aladdin somewhat destroys the original. There are supposed to be two genies, and several characters were renamed--Jasmine's name was supposed to be Badroulbadour. The story took place in China, and Jafar was a servant of the sorcerer??? Something to that effect. It has been a long time since I read the original, but I remember thinking that Disney really messed things up.
About Jasmine being hot, I think she's pretty much the same as any other Disney "princess" character. She also has scary huge eyes, by the way. I would prefer a girl like Mulan because of her adventurous attitude, she just seems like the type of girl who has more fun, and isn't lame.
I must admit, my perception of Aladdin comes somewhat from the 1992 computer game, "Prince of Persia", which I still have on my laptop! The story line there is reduced to a guy thrown into the dungeons trying to escape so he can save the girl from an evil sorcerer. Not too creative, I know, but it's a great game that everyone should at least try.
One thing preserved in all three versions of Aladdin (Arabian Nights, Disney Aladdin, and Prince of Persia) is that he's basically lower-class scum, somewhat of a criminal, fighting against an even worse power--the sorcerer. Peter Pan and Robin Hood have much of the same appeal, each being both far from perfect, and a major underdog.
As a college student (read: able to afford college) I couldn't reasonably be considered "lower-class" like Aladdin, but I strongly prefer his type of role to the perfect "knight in shining armor" portrayal seen so often.
The sort of stories preserved in our folklore largely consist of heroic types sweeping girls off their feet, now where's the suspense or interest in a story like that? Some would say that our folk stories are chauvinistic, and to an extent they are, but from a literary standpoint, the hero "getting the girl" is simply a tool used to illustrate success or virtue of a character. When a story (like Robin Hood, Aladdin, or Peter Pan) illustrates an unlikely character finding success, I empathize much better with the story.
I often paint myself as an inherently flawed character--I'm not looking for pity, that's just how I see myself--but I have confidence and a strong drive to succeed at the unlikely. That is where I relate to Aladdin, Peter Pan, and Robin Hood.
A follow-up on the Aladdin comment, I have long thought that the Disney version Aladdin somewhat destroys the original. There are supposed to be two genies, and several characters were renamed--Jasmine's name was supposed to be Badroulbadour. The story took place in China, and Jafar was a servant of the sorcerer??? Something to that effect. It has been a long time since I read the original, but I remember thinking that Disney really messed things up.
About Jasmine being hot, I think she's pretty much the same as any other Disney "princess" character. She also has scary huge eyes, by the way. I would prefer a girl like Mulan because of her adventurous attitude, she just seems like the type of girl who has more fun, and isn't lame.
I must admit, my perception of Aladdin comes somewhat from the 1992 computer game, "Prince of Persia", which I still have on my laptop! The story line there is reduced to a guy thrown into the dungeons trying to escape so he can save the girl from an evil sorcerer. Not too creative, I know, but it's a great game that everyone should at least try.
One thing preserved in all three versions of Aladdin (Arabian Nights, Disney Aladdin, and Prince of Persia) is that he's basically lower-class scum, somewhat of a criminal, fighting against an even worse power--the sorcerer. Peter Pan and Robin Hood have much of the same appeal, each being both far from perfect, and a major underdog.
As a college student (read: able to afford college) I couldn't reasonably be considered "lower-class" like Aladdin, but I strongly prefer his type of role to the perfect "knight in shining armor" portrayal seen so often.
The sort of stories preserved in our folklore largely consist of heroic types sweeping girls off their feet, now where's the suspense or interest in a story like that? Some would say that our folk stories are chauvinistic, and to an extent they are, but from a literary standpoint, the hero "getting the girl" is simply a tool used to illustrate success or virtue of a character. When a story (like Robin Hood, Aladdin, or Peter Pan) illustrates an unlikely character finding success, I empathize much better with the story.
I often paint myself as an inherently flawed character--I'm not looking for pity, that's just how I see myself--but I have confidence and a strong drive to succeed at the unlikely. That is where I relate to Aladdin, Peter Pan, and Robin Hood.
Friday, April 4, 2008
When it comes to Disney Characters. . .
If I were a Disney character, I would either be Peter Pan or Aladdin. I am adventurous, spontaneous, and slightly rebellious, so I could be either. And whether it's pixie dust or a magic carpet, I sure would love to fly! I would be an unlikely hero, but a hero nonetheless. The only problem is I'm not such a fan of Wendy or Jasmine, I'd have to end up with a girl more like Mulan! She's cool.
Monday, March 31, 2008
A winning combination!
So, have you ever gone all-out and made the best meal you possibly could? A few days ago I did, and the presentation was definitely well-received!
Here's the menu:
Bacon-wrapped, peppered filet mignon. Yup, this is off to a good start, I know!
Steamed asparagus with bleu cheese and balsamic vinegar
Tender white potatoes, mashed with heavy cream and a dash of salt mixed-in
One bottle of Martinelli's orange-cranberry sparkling cider
Follow that wit about an hour to let the food settle, then finish it off with a desert of fresh strawberries dipped in dark chocolate and chilled.
Wow! That's the response you'll get, guaranteed. My fiancée was gone all day shopping and planning wedding-related things with her best friend and my mom. I had my mom call me when she finished so I could start the meal in time. To say the least, things went well and I felt great! Try it for yourself sometime. If anyone wants to know my filet mignon recipe, which I invented, just ask!
Here's the menu:
Bacon-wrapped, peppered filet mignon. Yup, this is off to a good start, I know!
Steamed asparagus with bleu cheese and balsamic vinegar
Tender white potatoes, mashed with heavy cream and a dash of salt mixed-in
One bottle of Martinelli's orange-cranberry sparkling cider
Follow that wit about an hour to let the food settle, then finish it off with a desert of fresh strawberries dipped in dark chocolate and chilled.
Wow! That's the response you'll get, guaranteed. My fiancée was gone all day shopping and planning wedding-related things with her best friend and my mom. I had my mom call me when she finished so I could start the meal in time. To say the least, things went well and I felt great! Try it for yourself sometime. If anyone wants to know my filet mignon recipe, which I invented, just ask!
Engaged = too busy!!!
So, if you can't tell, I've fallen behind in my blog writing. I wonder why? I am working really hard to keep up in all of my classes, but I've been so busy! Even though my fiancée is taking the brunt of the planning, there's more to it that I ever imagined. Wish me luck, everyone, just so I'll survive.
Thank you!
Thank you!
Sunday, March 2, 2008
"Pop!" goes the question!
Yes, you read it right, I am engaged.
Last night, I had been studying calculus at my girlfriend's house all day, and she had been doing homework as well. When she got to a good stopping point, I asked her if she wanted to go take a break at the park. She agreed, and I drove her over to the park where we had our first kiss (more than ten months ago).
When we got to the park, we walked up the hill and found a park bench where we could sit. We cuddled for a while, because it was cold, and I waited for an opportune moment - I already had the ring box in my pocket.
After what felt like an hour but was probably less than five minutes, she made a comment that it was a pretty night, but she really wished she could see the stars (it was a cloudy night.) I took that as my cue, and told her, "You can see the stars any night, but I know something that doesn't happen just any night."
"What?", she asked me. I took the ring box out of my pocket, got down on one knee, and simply asked her to marry me. She was ecstatic, to say the least. "Yes!", she exclaimed, and I'm pretty sure she started kissing me before she even looked at the ring! Her reaction was both exciting and entertaining; I'm glad it was in the affirmative.
After cherishing the moment for a while, we realized how cold it was outside, and walked back down to my car. Before getting her door, I told her I had heard (and really it was just an excuse) that a formal wedding request ought to involve three dozen roses. Her eyes got really big for the second time of the night, and I took three dozen red roses, all in one bouquet, out of my trunk. The bouquet must have weighed nearly five pounds!
When we discussed marriage before, I found out that she likes simple rings that don't stand too high off the finger. She's a hard worker and very outdoorsy, so I knew gold would be too soft for her ring. I also found out that she doesn't like large diamonds, which is a relief, because I can't afford large diamonds!
I managed to find an antique platinum ring from the early 1900s, probably about 1920, that is graceful and understated. It's a perfect match for the girl, in my opinion. The ring has nine perfect little diamonds in a segmented channel setting, and is definitely unique. I bought the ring, had it resized and completely refurbished, and now it looks like new. I definitely got a better ring than I ever thought I could afford!
I don't want to dwell on the specifics of the ring, what I'm most excited about is the girl! She's a perfect match for my adventurous nature, she's well educated (a graduate student!), she's funny, and she's very supportive of my goals. I'm excited to see how the next few days/weeks, months/years, decades/centuries, millennia/etc. will go. I better sign off before I get too sappy... Oh yeah, too late already! We plan to be married on June 20th.
Last night, I had been studying calculus at my girlfriend's house all day, and she had been doing homework as well. When she got to a good stopping point, I asked her if she wanted to go take a break at the park. She agreed, and I drove her over to the park where we had our first kiss (more than ten months ago).
When we got to the park, we walked up the hill and found a park bench where we could sit. We cuddled for a while, because it was cold, and I waited for an opportune moment - I already had the ring box in my pocket.
After what felt like an hour but was probably less than five minutes, she made a comment that it was a pretty night, but she really wished she could see the stars (it was a cloudy night.) I took that as my cue, and told her, "You can see the stars any night, but I know something that doesn't happen just any night."
"What?", she asked me. I took the ring box out of my pocket, got down on one knee, and simply asked her to marry me. She was ecstatic, to say the least. "Yes!", she exclaimed, and I'm pretty sure she started kissing me before she even looked at the ring! Her reaction was both exciting and entertaining; I'm glad it was in the affirmative.
After cherishing the moment for a while, we realized how cold it was outside, and walked back down to my car. Before getting her door, I told her I had heard (and really it was just an excuse) that a formal wedding request ought to involve three dozen roses. Her eyes got really big for the second time of the night, and I took three dozen red roses, all in one bouquet, out of my trunk. The bouquet must have weighed nearly five pounds!
When we discussed marriage before, I found out that she likes simple rings that don't stand too high off the finger. She's a hard worker and very outdoorsy, so I knew gold would be too soft for her ring. I also found out that she doesn't like large diamonds, which is a relief, because I can't afford large diamonds!
I managed to find an antique platinum ring from the early 1900s, probably about 1920, that is graceful and understated. It's a perfect match for the girl, in my opinion. The ring has nine perfect little diamonds in a segmented channel setting, and is definitely unique. I bought the ring, had it resized and completely refurbished, and now it looks like new. I definitely got a better ring than I ever thought I could afford!
I don't want to dwell on the specifics of the ring, what I'm most excited about is the girl! She's a perfect match for my adventurous nature, she's well educated (a graduate student!), she's funny, and she's very supportive of my goals. I'm excited to see how the next few days/weeks, months/years, decades/centuries, millennia/etc. will go. I better sign off before I get too sappy... Oh yeah, too late already! We plan to be married on June 20th.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Delorean
I want a Delorean. There are kinda cool cars, and then there's the Delorean. You know, the Back-to-the-Future car? They are made of stainless steel, so they will basically last forever, unless you get in a wreck. Yes, unpainted, brushed stainless steel. They have gull-wing doors that open up from the 
sides, instead of out like a normal car. They were made in the early 80s, maybe a few in the very late 70s. Anyw
ay, I just realized that I really want one. Does 
anyone want to trade their Delorean, preferrably with low miles, for my 1989 Nissan Sentra? My car is red, that'll win you some prestige points! Note: the two vertical pics are my car, the others two are Deloreans, if you can't tell.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Ahh, fog!
Have I said it? I love fog! Not the grimy, discolored fog that is bad to breath, and happens during temperature inversions, but the clean, white, healthy kind that can almost make your skin damp when you walt through it.
This post is belated, but I first started thinking about it on Thursday morning, when I walked to school. It must have been almost exactly 32 degrees outside, because I would occasionally see a snowflake, and then a tiny rain drop a few seconds later. For the most part, though, it was just beautiful, comfortable, breathable fog that made the morning seem much brighter than it actually was.
Fog takes me back to Vermont and Maine, where I served a mission for my church. Honestly, for the first few months of my mission, when it was winter in Vermont, I almost forgot what colors looked like. I would wake up and walk outside, a brave venture when it is -20 or -30 degrees Fahrenheit, and look at the woods surrounding my house. The maple trees, millions of them, were gray and barren, or gray and covered in white snow. Huge white snow drifts built up in intricate patterns wherever there were no trees, casting equally intricate shadows in the low morning light. A clear day meant that the gray clouds were a few thousand feet above the ground, and a normal day meant walking through the clouds wherever we went. Occasionally the clouds would clear at night, presenting a beautiful black and white star canopy featuring the Milky Way Galaxy, so thick you could drink it if you could only reach high enough. During the day, though, gray and white prevailed. Cars would splash through slush in their cars, spraying gray road grime on any shop, sign, house (or pedestrian!) within a half dozen yards of the street. The buildings farther from the road usually had wood siding or shingles for their exterior finish. The shingles and siding would freeze so deeply that little moisture droplets trapped in the wood would surface as a layer of translucent ice crystals, making any color of shingle or siding appear... gray. As if it weren't enough to live in a world of black, white, and gray, the chilling fog added a final touch of surrealism that could not be denied.
Fog takes me back seven years, to a time when I went hiking alone at night in the woods of upstate New York. I wanted to find a place to think. Armed with a small mag-light, I confronted the pine-needle, root, and rock-strewn trail. With each step, my strange surroundings intrigued me more. I saw glimpses of stars through the tiny gaps between the tall trees, I noticed that there was a full moon. I gradually descended the hill until I came to a meadow. I entered the meadow. I heard a pack of coyotes howling in the distance, or at least I chose to think they were in the distance - they could have been at the top of an adjacent hill. As I entered the field, I observed a bizarre phenomenon - the ground, though not level, was uniformly covered with a six-foot-thick blanket of fog. Thick fog. I could extend my hand arm's length in front of me, and see fog between my head and my hand. Coyotes. Standing in the fog, I could only see about eight feet in front of me, three yards at most. Tilting my head upward, I could see a clear black sky pulsating with stars, as if the fog were not there at all. Disregarding caution, I followed the faint trail through the forty-acre field alone, holding my light above my head, shining it down on a spot ten feet ahead of me. Though I couldn't see that far, I thought it best to try to illuminate unknown objects before stumbling upon them.
I stopped in the middle of the field and looked around. I could not see where I was going, or where I came from. Though I take insights from the scriptures, and firmly believe in Jesus, I have felt a similar way about life many times. How did I get to where I am now, and how will I get to the next place I want to be? Such is the challenge of faith - I find myself constantly needing to take action despite having imperfect information.
I resumed my walking, and eventually made it through the field, then around the edge of the field, then over some hills, and then back to camp. I heard the coyotes intermittently that whole night. Coyotes, though they are scavengers and not prone to aggression with humans, have something about their call that can be quite unsettling to anyone who hears. I usually don't mind the sound, but when walking alone at night, it brings different things to mind. In this case, it added the perfect (if not slightly disturbing) ambient sound to accent my memory.
While I don't remember finding a place to sit and think, as I had planned, I had a few hours, or at least most of an hour, to contemplate on God's artwork. How amazing it is that God can take such commonplace media, such as trees, tall grass, fog, and coyotes, and make something so abstract and beautiful!
I could go on, but I have no more time to write. No time to write about the lighthouses, mountains, meadows, and country roads, all covered in fog, that create such pregnant moments and illustrate so many moods... You'll just have to watch for those places on your own and see what I mean.
This post is belated, but I first started thinking about it on Thursday morning, when I walked to school. It must have been almost exactly 32 degrees outside, because I would occasionally see a snowflake, and then a tiny rain drop a few seconds later. For the most part, though, it was just beautiful, comfortable, breathable fog that made the morning seem much brighter than it actually was.
Fog takes me back to Vermont and Maine, where I served a mission for my church. Honestly, for the first few months of my mission, when it was winter in Vermont, I almost forgot what colors looked like. I would wake up and walk outside, a brave venture when it is -20 or -30 degrees Fahrenheit, and look at the woods surrounding my house. The maple trees, millions of them, were gray and barren, or gray and covered in white snow. Huge white snow drifts built up in intricate patterns wherever there were no trees, casting equally intricate shadows in the low morning light. A clear day meant that the gray clouds were a few thousand feet above the ground, and a normal day meant walking through the clouds wherever we went. Occasionally the clouds would clear at night, presenting a beautiful black and white star canopy featuring the Milky Way Galaxy, so thick you could drink it if you could only reach high enough. During the day, though, gray and white prevailed. Cars would splash through slush in their cars, spraying gray road grime on any shop, sign, house (or pedestrian!) within a half dozen yards of the street. The buildings farther from the road usually had wood siding or shingles for their exterior finish. The shingles and siding would freeze so deeply that little moisture droplets trapped in the wood would surface as a layer of translucent ice crystals, making any color of shingle or siding appear... gray. As if it weren't enough to live in a world of black, white, and gray, the chilling fog added a final touch of surrealism that could not be denied.
Fog takes me back seven years, to a time when I went hiking alone at night in the woods of upstate New York. I wanted to find a place to think. Armed with a small mag-light, I confronted the pine-needle, root, and rock-strewn trail. With each step, my strange surroundings intrigued me more. I saw glimpses of stars through the tiny gaps between the tall trees, I noticed that there was a full moon. I gradually descended the hill until I came to a meadow. I entered the meadow. I heard a pack of coyotes howling in the distance, or at least I chose to think they were in the distance - they could have been at the top of an adjacent hill. As I entered the field, I observed a bizarre phenomenon - the ground, though not level, was uniformly covered with a six-foot-thick blanket of fog. Thick fog. I could extend my hand arm's length in front of me, and see fog between my head and my hand. Coyotes. Standing in the fog, I could only see about eight feet in front of me, three yards at most. Tilting my head upward, I could see a clear black sky pulsating with stars, as if the fog were not there at all. Disregarding caution, I followed the faint trail through the forty-acre field alone, holding my light above my head, shining it down on a spot ten feet ahead of me. Though I couldn't see that far, I thought it best to try to illuminate unknown objects before stumbling upon them.
I stopped in the middle of the field and looked around. I could not see where I was going, or where I came from. Though I take insights from the scriptures, and firmly believe in Jesus, I have felt a similar way about life many times. How did I get to where I am now, and how will I get to the next place I want to be? Such is the challenge of faith - I find myself constantly needing to take action despite having imperfect information.
I resumed my walking, and eventually made it through the field, then around the edge of the field, then over some hills, and then back to camp. I heard the coyotes intermittently that whole night. Coyotes, though they are scavengers and not prone to aggression with humans, have something about their call that can be quite unsettling to anyone who hears. I usually don't mind the sound, but when walking alone at night, it brings different things to mind. In this case, it added the perfect (if not slightly disturbing) ambient sound to accent my memory.
While I don't remember finding a place to sit and think, as I had planned, I had a few hours, or at least most of an hour, to contemplate on God's artwork. How amazing it is that God can take such commonplace media, such as trees, tall grass, fog, and coyotes, and make something so abstract and beautiful!
I could go on, but I have no more time to write. No time to write about the lighthouses, mountains, meadows, and country roads, all covered in fog, that create such pregnant moments and illustrate so many moods... You'll just have to watch for those places on your own and see what I mean.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Meteorite - up close and personal!
So the title may be a bit confusing, but I'll explain - this may be the coolest thing in my 'blog so far.
The other night, Saturday, February 16th, my girlfriend and I went dancing. While driving on State Street, we saw the most spectacular meteorite I have ever seen. I have always enjoyed watching meteor showers, but I have never seen anything like this.
It happened like this - we were driving north at about 9:15 PM, when without warning, we saw a big green fireball fall from the sky. When it first appeared, I leaned forward and looked up through her windshield to see if perhaps the fireball was actually a large spark from a stray (illegal) firework, but there was no smoke or any other evidence of recently launched fireworks in the area.
We watched the dart fall for 2 to 3 seconds before it fizzled and disappeared 5 or 10 degrees above the horizon. Not sure what I was seeing, several thoughts crammed their way through my mind at once - it's a bird, it's a plane, and IT'S SUPERMAN!!! or something like that. Actually, my thoughts were 1) a stray firework, 2) debris from an airplane collision, 3) an exploding power transformer on a nearby telephone pole, and 4) Armegeddon! I'm only half joking on that one; one thought was, if that thing hits us, we die. Not a cause for panic, just a casual observance.
My girlfriend got really excited and asked me if I had seen what she saw, and I replied that I had. We talked for a while about what it could have been, than determined that it was a meteorite. It was shaped like a meteorite, it travelled in a straight path, it disappeared before hitting the horizon, and it was going faster than any of our other explanations (firework, plane, or exploding power transformer) and it was silent so it must have been a few miles away. I plan on searching online to see if anyone else saw or reported it, but I am confident enough to say that I saw the coolest meteorite I've ever seen or heard of.
Sorry about the dangling preposition above this line!
The other night, Saturday, February 16th, my girlfriend and I went dancing. While driving on State Street, we saw the most spectacular meteorite I have ever seen. I have always enjoyed watching meteor showers, but I have never seen anything like this.
It happened like this - we were driving north at about 9:15 PM, when without warning, we saw a big green fireball fall from the sky. When it first appeared, I leaned forward and looked up through her windshield to see if perhaps the fireball was actually a large spark from a stray (illegal) firework, but there was no smoke or any other evidence of recently launched fireworks in the area.
We watched the dart fall for 2 to 3 seconds before it fizzled and disappeared 5 or 10 degrees above the horizon. Not sure what I was seeing, several thoughts crammed their way through my mind at once - it's a bird, it's a plane, and IT'S SUPERMAN!!! or something like that. Actually, my thoughts were 1) a stray firework, 2) debris from an airplane collision, 3) an exploding power transformer on a nearby telephone pole, and 4) Armegeddon! I'm only half joking on that one; one thought was, if that thing hits us, we die. Not a cause for panic, just a casual observance.
My girlfriend got really excited and asked me if I had seen what she saw, and I replied that I had. We talked for a while about what it could have been, than determined that it was a meteorite. It was shaped like a meteorite, it travelled in a straight path, it disappeared before hitting the horizon, and it was going faster than any of our other explanations (firework, plane, or exploding power transformer) and it was silent so it must have been a few miles away. I plan on searching online to see if anyone else saw or reported it, but I am confident enough to say that I saw the coolest meteorite I've ever seen or heard of.
Sorry about the dangling preposition above this line!
Friday, February 8, 2008
Politics & Mike Huckabee...
I think Mike Huckabee is a spiteful man.
Consider the following: baptist minister with very few credentials beyond a claim to be a "true conservative" and no chance of the nomination runs against a well-qualified Mormon candidate. I don't know how many of you have lived in the South, or anywhere on the east coast, but there is a certain animosity many baptists have for us. If you are a Baptist and you are reading this, please don't get too worked up about that observation, I won't judge you. It just seems likely that Huckabee wanted nothing more than to keep Romney out of office... A sad tactic, because said "true conservative" has now almost entirely guaranteed that the more moderate McCain will get the nomination, or even the presidency. That's not cool. I hope Huckabee feels good about the millions he spent just for the sake of being a stumbling block. (That's me being somewhat spiteful as well, I suppose.)
Without going into details, as this is not a political blog, I supported Romney as long as he was in the running. Now I plan to support McCain, but that was a difficult decision for me. It looks like the challenge of November's election will be answering this question: vote for McCain, or move to Canada?
Consider the following: baptist minister with very few credentials beyond a claim to be a "true conservative" and no chance of the nomination runs against a well-qualified Mormon candidate. I don't know how many of you have lived in the South, or anywhere on the east coast, but there is a certain animosity many baptists have for us. If you are a Baptist and you are reading this, please don't get too worked up about that observation, I won't judge you. It just seems likely that Huckabee wanted nothing more than to keep Romney out of office... A sad tactic, because said "true conservative" has now almost entirely guaranteed that the more moderate McCain will get the nomination, or even the presidency. That's not cool. I hope Huckabee feels good about the millions he spent just for the sake of being a stumbling block. (That's me being somewhat spiteful as well, I suppose.)
Without going into details, as this is not a political blog, I supported Romney as long as he was in the running. Now I plan to support McCain, but that was a difficult decision for me. It looks like the challenge of November's election will be answering this question: vote for McCain, or move to Canada?
Thursday, January 31, 2008
POWDER DAY!!!
Well, I didn't explain that the coolness of my last post was that President Hinckley can be with his wife again - what a joy that must be!
Now, about the powder day!
I am such a responsible student. No seriously, I really do try, but I am a ski bum at heart. If Mormons weren't sort of expected to support large families, I would probably go be a ski bum for the next ten years or so and delay my college education. Alas, I must keep learning so I can start earning...
BUT, it snowed on Tuesday and Thursday, and I have been tormented for the last few weeks with amazing ski stories from friends and family, and none of my own. I did not skip class, but as soon as I got out of class I headed up to Sundance (I hadn't tried that resort yet, so I was almost obligated to go!). They had a special on their two-hour twilight skiing, so the tickets were only $13 each instead of $15. Full-day passes there are a bit overpriced for such a small resort - $50 or something.
I took my girlfriend, even though she's a snowboarder. I'd never gone with her before so I was a bit hesitant - I thought she would be toast after the first black diamond, or that she would chicken out at the top. We rode up the first lift, found a steep concave bowl, and I asked her if she was up to it. "Sure!" was here reply, so I jumped off the edge and landed in the waist deep powder. My first two turns were a bit awkward, but by the third or fourth turn I was in a state of absolute euphoria. Really, who needs drugs when you can get thrills like this naturally?
I was pleased to find out that Patrice could competently ski (I mean snowboard) in powder, and even on moguls. She didn't even have to go sideways on the moguls! That is a rare talent for a snowboarder, I get so upset when boarders go sideways and polish the perfectly good bumps into icy lumps. I generally go to Alta and avoid the boarders all together, but Patrice has managed to soften me up a little in that regard.
So we skied hard for two hours, and I actually managed to get pretty sore. The powder was amazing, and all of the moguls were new and still soft, the overall conditions were the best I've seen since before my mission. My only complaint was that with the low light around 4:00 or 4:15 it got very difficult to ski on varying terrain - I sometimes couldn't tell when powder turned to ice, or vice versa.
I have just two more brief powder stories, then I'm heading to bed. At one point, I got a little greedy and skied out past the edge of the run to find untouched snow. Actually, that happened several times, but this time I didn't have enough momentum and the hill flattened out for a few yards... I sank in up to my chest (no joke, it must have been a drift or something) and had a pretty good struggle before I could get out. Another time, I was skiing fast and hard on a steep section with a similar amount of powder. When I went over a little ledge, I made a few turns that threw a cloud of snow several feet above my head, and heard several people start cheering. Weird, I thought, until I looked up and realized that when I went over the ledge I ended up directly under one of the lifts - I guess whatever I did must have looked pretty cool, I wish I could have seen a picture of it. This is one of the many reasons I feel so spoiled to live in the Rocky Mountains - most skiers only dream of this kind of snow!
Well, I think I'm going to get a good night's sleep tonight. That's all.
Now, about the powder day!
I am such a responsible student. No seriously, I really do try, but I am a ski bum at heart. If Mormons weren't sort of expected to support large families, I would probably go be a ski bum for the next ten years or so and delay my college education. Alas, I must keep learning so I can start earning...
BUT, it snowed on Tuesday and Thursday, and I have been tormented for the last few weeks with amazing ski stories from friends and family, and none of my own. I did not skip class, but as soon as I got out of class I headed up to Sundance (I hadn't tried that resort yet, so I was almost obligated to go!). They had a special on their two-hour twilight skiing, so the tickets were only $13 each instead of $15. Full-day passes there are a bit overpriced for such a small resort - $50 or something.
I took my girlfriend, even though she's a snowboarder. I'd never gone with her before so I was a bit hesitant - I thought she would be toast after the first black diamond, or that she would chicken out at the top. We rode up the first lift, found a steep concave bowl, and I asked her if she was up to it. "Sure!" was here reply, so I jumped off the edge and landed in the waist deep powder. My first two turns were a bit awkward, but by the third or fourth turn I was in a state of absolute euphoria. Really, who needs drugs when you can get thrills like this naturally?
I was pleased to find out that Patrice could competently ski (I mean snowboard) in powder, and even on moguls. She didn't even have to go sideways on the moguls! That is a rare talent for a snowboarder, I get so upset when boarders go sideways and polish the perfectly good bumps into icy lumps. I generally go to Alta and avoid the boarders all together, but Patrice has managed to soften me up a little in that regard.
So we skied hard for two hours, and I actually managed to get pretty sore. The powder was amazing, and all of the moguls were new and still soft, the overall conditions were the best I've seen since before my mission. My only complaint was that with the low light around 4:00 or 4:15 it got very difficult to ski on varying terrain - I sometimes couldn't tell when powder turned to ice, or vice versa.
I have just two more brief powder stories, then I'm heading to bed. At one point, I got a little greedy and skied out past the edge of the run to find untouched snow. Actually, that happened several times, but this time I didn't have enough momentum and the hill flattened out for a few yards... I sank in up to my chest (no joke, it must have been a drift or something) and had a pretty good struggle before I could get out. Another time, I was skiing fast and hard on a steep section with a similar amount of powder. When I went over a little ledge, I made a few turns that threw a cloud of snow several feet above my head, and heard several people start cheering. Weird, I thought, until I looked up and realized that when I went over the ledge I ended up directly under one of the lifts - I guess whatever I did must have looked pretty cool, I wish I could have seen a picture of it. This is one of the many reasons I feel so spoiled to live in the Rocky Mountains - most skiers only dream of this kind of snow!
Well, I think I'm going to get a good night's sleep tonight. That's all.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Beloved Prophet, Friend
I thought it appropriate to write a memoriam for the President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
President Gordon B. Hinckley, who led the LDS church for 12 years and who has been a church leader for most of his life, died last evening at 7:00 PM Mountain Standard Time. President Hinckley died at the age of 97. If anyone in our day could say as Paul did, "I have finished the course," or "I have fought the good fight," it was the Prophet, Gordon B. Hinckley.
For those not familiar with the LDS Church, the organization is led by prophets, who are believed to be chosen by and inspired by God. Prophets or not, these men dedicate their lives to teaching and humanitarian service. Gordon B. Hinckley was truly a great humanitarian and even in his late 90s he continued to travel the world tirelessly. He brought food and hope, both physically and spiritually, to God's starving children.
President Hinckley had been the Prophet for so long that many of the newer members of the church have not known any other prophet. For the millions who have heard him speak and teach the gospel, I believe he was truly seen as a friend. To quote a hymn,
Others surely have more touching encounters with the Prophet than I did, but I feel so blessed to have had that man as an icon of righteousness and perseverance all through my adolescence and early adult years.
The Church will formally announce the successor within the next few weeks. While the new prophed will be just as inspired and inspiring as President Hinckley was, I think that all who knew and loved the Prophet will hold his memory dear for decades to come. I am excited to see the work of God continue to roll forward under new leadership, but I will miss the familiar voice of one I saw as my friend.
President Gordon B. Hinckley, who led the LDS church for 12 years and who has been a church leader for most of his life, died last evening at 7:00 PM Mountain Standard Time. President Hinckley died at the age of 97. If anyone in our day could say as Paul did, "I have finished the course," or "I have fought the good fight," it was the Prophet, Gordon B. Hinckley.
For those not familiar with the LDS Church, the organization is led by prophets, who are believed to be chosen by and inspired by God. Prophets or not, these men dedicate their lives to teaching and humanitarian service. Gordon B. Hinckley was truly a great humanitarian and even in his late 90s he continued to travel the world tirelessly. He brought food and hope, both physically and spiritually, to God's starving children.
President Hinckley had been the Prophet for so long that many of the newer members of the church have not known any other prophet. For the millions who have heard him speak and teach the gospel, I believe he was truly seen as a friend. To quote a hymn,
Each life that touches ours for good
Reflects thine own great mercy, Lord;
Thou sendest blessings from above
Thru words and deeds of those who love.
What greater gift dost thou bestow,
What greater goodness can we know
Than Christ-like friends, whose gentle ways
Strengthen our faith, enrich our days.
When such a friend from us departs,
We hold forever in our hearts
A sweet and hallowed memory,
Bringing us nearer, Lord, to thee.
For worthy friends whose lives proclaim
Devotion to the Savior's name,
Who bless our days with peace and love,
We praise thy goodness, Lord above.
Others surely have more touching encounters with the Prophet than I did, but I feel so blessed to have had that man as an icon of righteousness and perseverance all through my adolescence and early adult years.
The Church will formally announce the successor within the next few weeks. While the new prophed will be just as inspired and inspiring as President Hinckley was, I think that all who knew and loved the Prophet will hold his memory dear for decades to come. I am excited to see the work of God continue to roll forward under new leadership, but I will miss the familiar voice of one I saw as my friend.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
More Coolness
OK, I think my title deserves a little more explanation. I need things to write about, and if I can focus on what I like - what I think is 'cool', I should be able to do just that. Perhaps I will change the title some day, but for now it fits.
Speaking of coolness, I just discovered a little gadget that's pretty cool. It's called the Eee PC, and it is just about the smallest laptop I have ever seen. I am not a CS major or an EE, but I am pretty tech savvy and things like that can get my attention. The laptop is 6" x 9" when it is closed, and it comes with Linux pre-installed. Now I am not a Linux user (yet) but I do have an adequate antipathy for all things Micro$oft. For that very reason (and the fact that I have more fun on a Mac) I have used Macs my entire life. I won't go into a detailed comparison of Mac/Windows, I don't want that to be the focus of my 'blog. Just let it suffice for me to say that Mac users have more fun. Despite my preference for Macs, I would be willing to try Linux, because this little two-pound gadget only costs $350! As a side note, I now am going to list my upgraded 12" iBook for sale at $350. Even if my iBook doesn't interest you, you should still check out the Eee PC on Wikipedia.
I'm also planning to put together a "Top ten list of Coolness", if any of you have nominations (places or things, not people, please) you should let me know. Don't be offended if I do or don't use your suggestions, I made this 'bolg so I get the final say!
Thanks, all!
Speaking of coolness, I just discovered a little gadget that's pretty cool. It's called the Eee PC, and it is just about the smallest laptop I have ever seen. I am not a CS major or an EE, but I am pretty tech savvy and things like that can get my attention. The laptop is 6" x 9" when it is closed, and it comes with Linux pre-installed. Now I am not a Linux user (yet) but I do have an adequate antipathy for all things Micro$oft. For that very reason (and the fact that I have more fun on a Mac) I have used Macs my entire life. I won't go into a detailed comparison of Mac/Windows, I don't want that to be the focus of my 'blog. Just let it suffice for me to say that Mac users have more fun. Despite my preference for Macs, I would be willing to try Linux, because this little two-pound gadget only costs $350! As a side note, I now am going to list my upgraded 12" iBook for sale at $350. Even if my iBook doesn't interest you, you should still check out the Eee PC on Wikipedia.
I'm also planning to put together a "Top ten list of Coolness", if any of you have nominations (places or things, not people, please) you should let me know. Don't be offended if I do or don't use your suggestions, I made this 'bolg so I get the final say!
Thanks, all!
Friday, January 11, 2008
Really, I'm not that caught up in myself. I named my blog the way I did because it is about me, or at least the people, things, and experiences I encounter. Why would I write about things if they weren't cool?
Speaking of cool, I've got to observe that the word "cool" is probably the most enduring slang term in the English language. I can tell my grandpa who is in his nineties that something is "cool", and he understands me perfectly. I really won't focus on that too much for now.
I'm doing this 'blog primarily because it was designed in my college English class, but I think it will be nice to record a few thoughts and display them to the world (or the portion of the world that is bored enough to actually find an obscure student's 'blog. To those reading, enjoy!
Speaking of cool, I've got to observe that the word "cool" is probably the most enduring slang term in the English language. I can tell my grandpa who is in his nineties that something is "cool", and he understands me perfectly. I really won't focus on that too much for now.
I'm doing this 'blog primarily because it was designed in my college English class, but I think it will be nice to record a few thoughts and display them to the world (or the portion of the world that is bored enough to actually find an obscure student's 'blog. To those reading, enjoy!
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