January 13, 2012
Yes, i missed yesterday's blog! Get over it! I'm submitting this from Utah so it may look like its being submitted late but it's still 11pm in California! Haha!
So, I was having a conversation with my girlfriend the other day and for some reason we started talking about what each other's type was...y'know, what kind of person we found ourselves attracted to. Now, this is a very risky path to walk and a shallow pool to tread in... no pun intended! If you're talking to your girlfriend about what type of girl you're attracted to and your girlfriend happens to be 5'4, 125 pounds, blonde hair, blue eyes and has a freckle on her cheek you better say "my type is a girl who is about 5'4, 125 pounds, blonde hair, blue eyes and has a freckle on her cheek...that freckle is essential to my attraction to a girl!"
Luckily I didn't have to lie to her! ...plus she'll read this so I wouldn't say I'd lied if i had! However, it made me think about people's types. I wondered what my friends looked for in a potential crush (or more).
So, I polled about twenty of my random friends, both dudes and chicks from one spectrum of the late teens to early thirties. I got a ton of different responses ranging from "Taylor Swift! If she's not her then she better be a darn good doppelgänger or equally attractive cousin!" to "I just want someone who makes me laugh and is a good person." I found that most of my friends fell somewhere in the middle. I'll be honest, I was a little surprised that my friends weren't that shallow. I'll summarize and generalize what they said:
Dude Recon
Most dudes don't want a super skinny chick. She has to have some substance to her or as one dude said: "I'm not laying my head on a chick who is as bony as the grim reaper!"
Most dudes prefer a girl who is physically active
Hair color doesn't matter really
All dudes said that a sense of humor is important
Most dudes said the girl had to be shorter than him
Chick-con
Dude>Chick ...for my mathematically challenged friends that is not a chick-alligator eating a dude, that's a greater than sign. It implies that the dude must be taller.
Dude can't be slimmer than the chick but can't be monstrous either. Chicks like to feel safe
Dude must have a job
Hair/eye color don't matter
Chicks like a dude with some muscle but yet again not monstrous!
All chicks said a sense of humor is important
These are generalities of course but those were the consensus opinions. Kinda cool! Well, that's the end of my random thoughts for today!
Friday, January 13, 2012
The Water Department In The Swamp
January 12, 2012
Yeah, I totally forgot to write a post yesterday... Meh, you'll get over it. I'll keep this one short; I don't want to spend too much time tonight. Here's a little story I thought I'd jot down.
A week or two ago I was driving down the road, and I saw the city water department building. A building like that would normally have gone completely unnoticed to me but it brought back a simple memory. Every month when I was on my mission as a zone leader I would have to go pay the water bills for the missionaries that made up my zone. I remembered that the building was in a dirty, muddy part of town and my companion and I, either Elder Bricenho or Elder Huarca, would tread through the muddy swamp to get there, accomplish whatever our business was and then walk back to wherever we needed to go. That memory seems so insignificant but it affected me. It reminded me of what it felt like to be on a mission. I was suddenly struck with gratitude and I offered an open-eyed prayer as I drove past that water department in Victorville. I was so blessed for the opportunity to serve the Lord, going to another corner of the earth to share what I simply had felt and been blessed with. It was an experience that I will never forget. It was there in the jungles, deserts and swamps of Bolivia, that I learned a little better how to be a man. More importantly, it was there that I learned so much better how to be a man of God. I loved those people dearly, my heart ached for them and I think about them constantly. I believe that almost every missionary leaves their mission knowing they could have done more... they could have had more energy, talked to more people, tried harder, prayed harder, lived slightly better, etc. I certainly felt that and to be honest, it bothered me greatly until just recently. I had remembered so often those occasions when I didn't give EVERYTHING I had to give. As I prayed I told the Lord my feelings of regret and the feeling was almost instantaneous when I felt the Lord speak to my soul and tell me it was okay, that he was proud of me. I don’t remember whether I teared up or not but I do know that I felt the spirit completely soothe me.
That was rather personal. Don't know why I felt to share it with the whole world but perhaps someone will take something from that that will benefit them.
Yeah, I totally forgot to write a post yesterday... Meh, you'll get over it. I'll keep this one short; I don't want to spend too much time tonight. Here's a little story I thought I'd jot down.
A week or two ago I was driving down the road, and I saw the city water department building. A building like that would normally have gone completely unnoticed to me but it brought back a simple memory. Every month when I was on my mission as a zone leader I would have to go pay the water bills for the missionaries that made up my zone. I remembered that the building was in a dirty, muddy part of town and my companion and I, either Elder Bricenho or Elder Huarca, would tread through the muddy swamp to get there, accomplish whatever our business was and then walk back to wherever we needed to go. That memory seems so insignificant but it affected me. It reminded me of what it felt like to be on a mission. I was suddenly struck with gratitude and I offered an open-eyed prayer as I drove past that water department in Victorville. I was so blessed for the opportunity to serve the Lord, going to another corner of the earth to share what I simply had felt and been blessed with. It was an experience that I will never forget. It was there in the jungles, deserts and swamps of Bolivia, that I learned a little better how to be a man. More importantly, it was there that I learned so much better how to be a man of God. I loved those people dearly, my heart ached for them and I think about them constantly. I believe that almost every missionary leaves their mission knowing they could have done more... they could have had more energy, talked to more people, tried harder, prayed harder, lived slightly better, etc. I certainly felt that and to be honest, it bothered me greatly until just recently. I had remembered so often those occasions when I didn't give EVERYTHING I had to give. As I prayed I told the Lord my feelings of regret and the feeling was almost instantaneous when I felt the Lord speak to my soul and tell me it was okay, that he was proud of me. I don’t remember whether I teared up or not but I do know that I felt the spirit completely soothe me.
That was rather personal. Don't know why I felt to share it with the whole world but perhaps someone will take something from that that will benefit them.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
I Just G-G-G-Got Deep On Y'all!
January 10, 2012
When I was 18 I bought a CD at a music shop and I had no idea who the band was. The CD was 5 bucks and I thought "Why the heck not? Let's be spontaneous and try a band I've never heard of!" So, I bought the CD and threw it in my CD player. The band was called Thrice and the CD was in poor quality but played fine. The CD was decent but nothing really stood out until the title track called "The Artist In The Ambulance" came on. I began listening to the lyrics and instantly I was hooked on an idea: that sometimes we are given second chances and sometimes we need a rude awakening to help us become the people we need to be. Here are the lyrics...
THE ARTIST IN THE AMBULANCE
Late night, brakes lock, hear the tires squeal
Red light, can't stop so I spin the wheel
My world goes black before I feel an angel lift me up
And I open bloodshot eyes
into fluorescent white
They flip the siren, hit the lights, close the doors and I am gone
Now I lay here owing my life to a stranger
And I realize that empty words are not enough
I'm left here with the question of
just what have I to show except
the promises I never kept?
I lie here shaking on this bed,
under the weight of my regrets
I hope that I will never let you down
I know that this can be more than just flashing lights and sound
Look around and you'll see that at times it feels like no one really cares
It gets me down but I'm still gonna try to do what's right, I know that there's
A difference between sleight of hand,
and giving everything you have
There's a line drawn in the sand, i'm working up the will to cross it
Rhetoric can't raise the dead
I'm sick of always talking when there's no change
I'm sick of empty words, let's lead and not follow
Late night, brakes lock, hear the tires squeal
Red light, can't stop so I spin the wheel
My world goes black before I feel an angel steal me from the
Greedy jaws of death and chance,
and pull me in with steady hands
They've given me a second chance, the artist in the ambulance
Can we pick you off the ground,
more than flashing lights and sound
Here's the song...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Ton0a230_s
The lyrics just kinda struck me that if I were suddenly put face to face with death would I be ready to go? ...would I have lived the life I knew I should have? Will I "lie here shaking on this bed under the weight of my regrets" or say "what do I have to show except the promises I never kept?" I like the idea that we most likely will not die tomorrow but we can live better today.
Another song that contrasts this theme is a song by my favorite band, Bayside, called You've Already Been. This song illustrates a man who is going down on a crashing plane and contemplates his life and times and wonders if he'll end up in Heaven or Hell. The plane doesn't crash and he doesn't change but g-g-g-goes back to his selfish ways. Then later in life he is taken back to that moment when the plane is crashing but he hasn't changed even though he had the chance but this time he's not so lucky. In spite of his constant self-reassurance that he is in command it doesn't save him. The lyrics...
YOU'VE ALREADY BEEN
Let's say, that you're on a plane
It's going down fast
And you had time to think about
Your life and times
And where you'll end up
They say there's a place
You worry what it might be like
And you scream 'cause you're scared
What if I swore to God?
Would you believe me then?
Isn't there something to be said about
Brand name recognition
Let's say, your plane didn't crash
And you should survive
Would g-g-go back to your selfish ways
And deny this was divine?
They say there's a place
You worry what it might be like
And scream 'cause you're scared
What if I swore to God?
Would you believe me then?
Isn't there something to be said about
Brand name recognition
What can I say?
We ate the apple anyway
And you'll wonder when you'll get there
When you've already been
Well let's say that this happens again
This time you were rotated back
Believe what ever's right for you
Don't doubt your worth
Stay in command
What if I swore to God?
Would you believe me then?
Isn't there something to be said about
Brand name recognition
What can I say?
We ate the apple anyway
And you'll wonder when you'll get there
When you've already been
When you've already been
Here's the song...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-wRQFD1q7vY
Something to think about.
When I was 18 I bought a CD at a music shop and I had no idea who the band was. The CD was 5 bucks and I thought "Why the heck not? Let's be spontaneous and try a band I've never heard of!" So, I bought the CD and threw it in my CD player. The band was called Thrice and the CD was in poor quality but played fine. The CD was decent but nothing really stood out until the title track called "The Artist In The Ambulance" came on. I began listening to the lyrics and instantly I was hooked on an idea: that sometimes we are given second chances and sometimes we need a rude awakening to help us become the people we need to be. Here are the lyrics...
THE ARTIST IN THE AMBULANCE
Late night, brakes lock, hear the tires squeal
Red light, can't stop so I spin the wheel
My world goes black before I feel an angel lift me up
And I open bloodshot eyes
into fluorescent white
They flip the siren, hit the lights, close the doors and I am gone
Now I lay here owing my life to a stranger
And I realize that empty words are not enough
I'm left here with the question of
just what have I to show except
the promises I never kept?
I lie here shaking on this bed,
under the weight of my regrets
I hope that I will never let you down
I know that this can be more than just flashing lights and sound
Look around and you'll see that at times it feels like no one really cares
It gets me down but I'm still gonna try to do what's right, I know that there's
A difference between sleight of hand,
and giving everything you have
There's a line drawn in the sand, i'm working up the will to cross it
Rhetoric can't raise the dead
I'm sick of always talking when there's no change
I'm sick of empty words, let's lead and not follow
Late night, brakes lock, hear the tires squeal
Red light, can't stop so I spin the wheel
My world goes black before I feel an angel steal me from the
Greedy jaws of death and chance,
and pull me in with steady hands
They've given me a second chance, the artist in the ambulance
Can we pick you off the ground,
more than flashing lights and sound
Here's the song...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Ton0a230_s
The lyrics just kinda struck me that if I were suddenly put face to face with death would I be ready to go? ...would I have lived the life I knew I should have? Will I "lie here shaking on this bed under the weight of my regrets" or say "what do I have to show except the promises I never kept?" I like the idea that we most likely will not die tomorrow but we can live better today.
Another song that contrasts this theme is a song by my favorite band, Bayside, called You've Already Been. This song illustrates a man who is going down on a crashing plane and contemplates his life and times and wonders if he'll end up in Heaven or Hell. The plane doesn't crash and he doesn't change but g-g-g-goes back to his selfish ways. Then later in life he is taken back to that moment when the plane is crashing but he hasn't changed even though he had the chance but this time he's not so lucky. In spite of his constant self-reassurance that he is in command it doesn't save him. The lyrics...
YOU'VE ALREADY BEEN
Let's say, that you're on a plane
It's going down fast
And you had time to think about
Your life and times
And where you'll end up
They say there's a place
You worry what it might be like
And you scream 'cause you're scared
What if I swore to God?
Would you believe me then?
Isn't there something to be said about
Brand name recognition
Let's say, your plane didn't crash
And you should survive
Would g-g-go back to your selfish ways
And deny this was divine?
They say there's a place
You worry what it might be like
And scream 'cause you're scared
What if I swore to God?
Would you believe me then?
Isn't there something to be said about
Brand name recognition
What can I say?
We ate the apple anyway
And you'll wonder when you'll get there
When you've already been
Well let's say that this happens again
This time you were rotated back
Believe what ever's right for you
Don't doubt your worth
Stay in command
What if I swore to God?
Would you believe me then?
Isn't there something to be said about
Brand name recognition
What can I say?
We ate the apple anyway
And you'll wonder when you'll get there
When you've already been
When you've already been
Here's the song...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-wRQFD1q7vY
Something to think about.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
You Know You Laughed...Don't Deny It!
January 9, 2012
Today I really will be short! You just watch!
I read a book by Helen Keller today. It was a fantastic read! It was called “Around the House in 80 days.” You should look it up! Never mind that book Around the World in 80 days! This is better!
...end transmission...
I Bet Willy Wonka Was A Mormon...
January 8, 2012
Okay, so I failed yet again to keep my previous blog short and sweet. Today I will do my best to keep it bearable in length.
Since today is Sunday I thought I would share a little insight about religion...and Willy Wonka!
One of my favorite movies ever is called Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, made in 1971... not to be confused with the abomination that is “Johnny Wonka” made in two thousand something. Long story short; Willy Wonka owns a chocolate factory. He promises a life time supply of chocolate to 5 lucky kids as they tour his factory. Crazy stuff happens and in the end the only one of the 5 kids that is left alive/not a blueberry is Charlie Bucket, a humble kid. After passing a test Willy Wonka says that he is going to give his chocolate factory to Charlie to run. Charlie's grandfather says “But he's only a boy!” to which Willy responds “Exactly! I had to choose a child because a child will do exactly as I say and run the factory how I specify. If I give it to an adult they will try to run it their own way and change things. It has to be a child!”
Mormonism is an interesting thing, it's a beast all its own. A catholic priest once said (and I paraphrase): “Well, as Christianity goes, it's either the Catholics or the Mormons that are right. Every single christian denomination is an offshoot of Catholicism as they protested and started their new churches except the Mormons. Either they're right or we are.” What he was referring to is the fact that the Mormon church is not a protestant sect of Christianity, implying that the Catholic church can supposedly trace its origins back to the original apostles and any church that comes afterward is just an offshoot of that church by authority. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, however, was restored. That means that Jesus Christ started his true church while he was here on earth with apostles, prophets, teachers, etc. and eventually that church was destroyed. People killed Christ, killed the apostles (Peter was crucified upside down, Paul was beheaded, some were stoned and so forth), and with the death of those priesthood leaders the church was lost in a time called apostasy. Almost two millenia after the original church fell in to apostasy God RESTORED that church again. Restored is a good word because it implies that the church was taken (after the authority was lost) and then put back exactly how it was before. God called a prophet, 12 apostles and started the same exact church again. That prophet's name was Joseph Smith. We do not worship him, we do not pray to him and we do not look to anyone but Jesus Christ for salvation. He was a prophet and coincidentally he was also 14 when he was first called to be a prophet
Today at church, one of the presiding leaders in our ward said “I know a lot of 14 years olds and I would not entrust a work so great into the hands of a 14 year old.” I completely understand his sentiment... I remember when I was 14 and I'm surprised I'm still alive today! However, that age is extremely important in considering why God would call a boy to restore his church.
Here's where Willy Wonka comes into play! People wonder why God chose a 14 year old boy and that is exactly why. God needed to restore his church on the earth and he needed it done precisely as he wanted it. God called a young prophet and gave him specifications on how to restore the gospel. An adult might have gotten a big ego or tried to run it his way...possibly to gain wealth like so many religious organizations are erected for. God chose a boy and instructed him step-by-step and that church and gospel were RESTORED. Not differently than when Jesus Christ did it but exactly how he had originally established it.
I failed again at being short and simple. Sorry... I hope this makes sense but if not please comment and let me know!
27 Neck-Ties
January 7, 2012
Man, I am not keeping up on my promise that my blogs would be shorter! I will do better and start being short and to the point.
So, I've been a groomsman or a best-man in like 15 weddings, no joke! Have you ever seen the movie about the chick who was a bridemaid or maid of honor in 27 different weddings but can never get married herself called “27 Dresses”? Well, as I lay here in bed I look into my closet where I have all of my ties hanging and I am seriously thinking about writing and starring in a movie called “27 Neck-ties” for all of the ties I have from being in wedding parties.
Now, I'm not complaining, it has been awesome being a partaker of such delicious rehearsal dinners/dinners/reception food on so many different occasions... but seriously that is a lot of stinkin' ties! It kinda made me hate love! You never feel more “I'm sitting her all alone as people are in love all around me so I'm going to be more bitter than a spoonful of salt” (yes, that is an emotion) than when you are at a friend's wedding and they are disgustingly cute together. Haha!
Now I should probably shift the focus of this blog and be more positive, so, what this blog is really about is the cool stuff! The cool thing about so many ties is that each has a story and I've accompanied friends of mine that have been so disgustingly, hopelessly, gag-reflex-inducingly in love and it makes me happy. As I type this my married roommates are in the living room and he is playing the accordion and singing a song from The Lady and the Tramp to his lovely bride... I know! I threw up a little in my mouth too! However, I've known both of them for a while and I love them and I am soooooooo happy for them!
Normally I would hate anything to do with love, mushy stuff or imagining my roommates sitting in the living room looking rather puppyish as they share a plate of spaghetti and they accidentally slurp a noodle that leaves them kissing but for one of the few times in my life I am not single and I'm extremely happy about that fact. This isn't going to be one of those blogs with me being mushy or anything but I just have to say that my girlfriend is kafreakin' awesome! Seriously, that chick is cool and she's not bad on the eyes either...and that's kinda cool for me. I'm sure I'll write a blog about her sometime but it'll have to wait. Anyway, so, for now I'm not feeling lonely... even though she lives in a different solar system.
Those ties aren't mocking me like they usually do... but if they start mocking me again so help me I will use them to test the acidity of my bath-water then laugh as the clown loses again! (If you do not understand that joke then please read the previous blog)
HCTMHWAAGTSMUATMTTNWIWBETRITMOTLMFFTTA...It's a thing!
January 6, 2012
(I wrote a few blogs but never posted them, so here they are for your reading pleasure)
So, recently I was sitting in my living room with some close friends of mine... which seems to be a daily ritual! No joke, there are at any given time about 10 people who do not live here who practically live here and sometimes that can be a problem. Often I will arise to go to work anywhere between 4am and 10am and there will be random people in the living room. I usually think nothing of seeing random people in my living room because they are 9 times out of 10 a friend of one of my roomies. One time I entered our living room around 6am and there was a very skinny kid, dressed in a warped tour t-shirt that smelled strongly of mothballs, embalming fluid and catnip... don't ask me why I know what the combination of said aromas smells like, I don't really care to talk about the summer I spent working at a funeral home. Anyway, I didn't think anything of it and went to work. When I came back he was gone and I felt it appropriate to ask my roomies about which one of them was his acquaintance. I spoke to them in sequential order, descending in age from oldest to youngest and none of them knew who he was. Nothing had been stolen but I washed the couch cover...twice good measure.
Anyway, the previous story holds no bearing to what I was planning on talking about. So, anyway, my friends and I were talking and one of them asked what our most irrational fears are. Now, you need to understand that I have a ridiculously large list of irrational fears. Like, I don't mean somewhat rational fears, I'm talking ridiculous stuff. So, I thought I would share some of my irrationally rational fears and some that are, as a few dear friends of mine would say, RIDIC!
First of all, I am terrified of the flying monkeys from The Wizard of Oz. Charisdnatphobia is the fear of monkeys and aviophobia is the fear of flying...combine those two together and you have charisdnaviophobia but I will settle for just calling it “Holy-crap-those-monkeys-have-wings-and-are-going-to-snatch-me-up-and-take-me-to-their-nest-where-I-will-be-eaten-then-regurgitated-into-the-mouths-of-their-little-mini-flying-freaky-things-too-aphobia” or in the clinical world: HCTMHWAAGTSMUATMTTNWIWBETRITMOTLMFFTTA for short (pronounced phonetically)
I'm also afraid of Bob Barker. Ever since I was little my family watched The Price Is Right religiously and the host scared me living daylights of me. His skin is orange! Like not a weird looking tan but the dude is freakin' orange. He looks like a full-sized Oompa Loompa!
I fear wearing a tie that is too tight. Apart from feeling like I'm walking around being strangled by a very weak person, I'm afraid that it will some how restrict the blood-flow of the arteries in my neck or restrict my breathing...wearing a backpack while wearing a tie is like having a very weak midget on my back strangling me... needless to say, serving as a missionary was an interesting endeavor for me
(thanks to Mitch Hedburg for the comedic thievery I just committed)
Also, I'm afraid of clowns...now I can hear you critics already: “But Caleb, a fear of clowns is very common and mildly rational.” No, you don't get it! I'm afraid that a clown has done something especially menacing, such as: putting a nail sticking straight up in my pillow, exchanging my bathwater with acid or turning the gas on in my stove without lighting it. So, suck on that you naysaying dissenters! That ain't normal and I know it! I'll admit this is a fear that has gone away but when I was younger I would throw a toy into my bath water to see if it'd melt or I'd make my brother sit on my pillow just in case there was a nail...and then when nothing happened I would laugh heartily just in case that little bugger was watching me as I foiled his plans.Well, there ya go. My completely irrational fears!
P.S.: Don't forget to put on your tin-foil helmets so that the government can't read your mind!
Friday, January 6, 2012
Caleb and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Date
January 5, 2012
Recently I started talking to some chicks about the worst dates they had ever been on and I'll be honest; I LOVED HEARING THEM! It's been a while since I laughed that hard! I talked to girls from all walks of life and got some amazing stories. The stories ranged from awkward to me being straight up ashamed of my Y-chromosome sharing brethren. I want to list a couple just so that everyone can bask in the glory! So, here they are!
*Note: All of these stories come from places other than the high desert. I got some good worst dates out of the locals too but will not add them.
"He had me drive over to his place and he asked what I was going to make him for dinner."
"We watched the sunset on a video game (World of Warcraft)!"
"He took me as a date to his ex-girlfriend's wedding. As we walked into the reception he told me look really interested in him."
"As we drove to go see a movie he pulled over on the side of the road to pee. He did everything in view (with his back turned at least)!"
"He decided to teach me how to box (the sport) and ended up punching me so hard that it hurt to close my jaw all the way."
"We got done with dinner and he asked if we had been on the date long enough that we could make out yet."
"We watched The Exorcist."
"He was holding my hand as we took a walk (on our first date) and he abruptly said 'Recently a girl I liked a couple months ago began texting me and I don't know whether I want her or you.'"
"We went to a restaurant and he ordered for me...not the cute 'The lady will have the halibut' after asking me. No, he told the waiter what I was going to have then told me he didn't want to spend too much money on the date so he thought he'd order cheap."
“He took me out into the middle of the woods, gave me a machete and said that we were going zombie hunting... it might have been humorous but he was serious. He said he wanted to prepare me for when the real zombie apocalypse hit.”
Now, these are all extreme cases and I really would hope that most dudes wouldn't do something dumb like the aforementioned cases. Sometimes I marvel at dudes and their total obliviousness when it comes to chicks and how they'd like to be treated. I have had my fair share of bad dates but for the most part I don't think that they're dates that warrant a restraining order...although as I spoke with the chicks about their worst dates I was pretty sure I had been the culprit of a few of them...
The words hell, cleaning the bathroom, pickles and my grandmother's wig all bring back fonder memories to me than my worst date. I have sought and received the permission of the chick with whom I went on this date to retell it. The funny thing is that this chick and I were way good friends afterward and we went on other dates that were actually great. With that in mind, here we go!
My terrible, horrible, no good, very bad date happened when I had just turned 18. I met a girl at a party in a city where I had just recently moved to. I didn't know very many people and this gave me an opportunity to start over and make a new image for myself. I started off by telling her some garbage about myself that was probably mildly true but far overblown. She seemed very interested and we really hit it off. By some miraculous aligning of the cosmos, and possibly the intervention of the the creator of the universes himself, I got her number and we parted ways without me making too much of a fool of myself. Do you ever just go through a situation marveling at how well you're doing and you just keep telling yourself “don't screw up, don't screw up... smile... say something witty... okay, you're probably not going to keep up this luck, stop now...”? That was it. A couple days later I called her... I probably would have called her far sooner but my mom, knowing I was apt to screw something up, hid the girl's number until my mom thought it had been enough time... I feigned some semblance of confidence and said “Hey, we met at the party the other day...blah, blah, blah... look, I was...umm... wondering if...uhh...I mean...if you wanted to go do something with me on Saturday.” To my utter shock and dismay she said that she would. I finalized the plans and said “So, are your parents cool with it just being the two of us (sometimes Mormon parents are a little weird with their daughters going on single dates the second they turn 18)?” She said that they'd be perfectly fine with it. I had a little coaching session in my head on how to end the conversation with ruining my life for the rest of eternity and I hung up with my pride intact.
The day of the date came and I woke up bright and early to vacuum and clean my car. It was probably 7 am and I was at the car wash dressed from head to toe in my pajamas (which included a hooded sweatshirt that I had placed over my head). At the time I had a 1994 Hyundai Excel that had a hatchback trunk that rose to about 6 feet 2 inches off the ground, about an inch shorter than me. This car was a little, tiny, green car that was so small I had to drive with my head cocked slightly because I was too tall. I cleaned my car and continued vacuuming in my early morning daze when I turned around too quickly and the edge of the trunk not only cut my head but gouged a small piece of flesh out. The blood began to pour immediately and I realized that I was the proud new owner of a gaping head wound. So, as any normal person with a head wound would do, I decided to get behind the wheel of a car and drive home... Calling on my mounds of intelligence I just sped up and as I did so a cop pulled me over. Brilliant. I took the ticket and continued driving home... great idea until about 2 minutes from home I started getting lightheaded and my vision started going white.
Luckily I got home, pulled in to my driveway (parking slanted and blocking all other cars at my house). I walked inside and said “Mom! I think I might have hurt myself!” By this point the blood is all along my face, down my neck and soaking my t-shirt. My mom being the quick-witted and calm person that she is only says “You might have.” She directs me to sit down and she'd take a look at it. Upon careful examination she determined, and rightfully so, that I needed stitches but being the consummate romantic that I am yelled at her “NO! I HAVE A DATE!” She argued with me for a bit and I told her to just put a butterfly bandage on it. She relented and went to gather her tools. I sat calmly placing pressure with a towel on the wound and she returned, asking me to remove the towel so she could fix it. Before I even heard the buzz, a strip of hair was missing, she had shaved a line (A LINE!) down my head along the cut. I freaked out in some language that I'm sure made her think her son was possessed by some unearthly demon and she yelled back some nonsense about butterfly bandages not being able to stick to hair...whatever. Long story short; she got the bandage on and I was on my merry way to my date with a considerable amount of blood-loss, a strip of hair missing, a bright white bandage, a case of delirium and a partridge in a pear tree.
My date calls me on my way to pick her up and she explains that something minor came up and that she would just meet me at the intended destination for our date instead of me picking her up, no problem. I arrive at the date locale about 20 minutes early and get things ready... I still thought I looked okay with an anti-mohawk (of course, I also thought I looked good wearing shirts that were 2 sizes too small). After completing the preparations, I sat down and waited for my date.
30 minutes passes. An hour. Two hours and finally she pulls up. I was so excited for the date that I didn't even care that she was so late and didn't even call. I see her car door open and she stands up. Beautiful, long brown hair, gorgeous blue eyes and a wonderful smile... this is why I was totally cool with a massive head-wound. Then the back doors open and 3 of her girlfriends step out.
Now, in my teens I had a mouth that would put a sailor to shame but by this point I had luckily sworn off swearing altogether or else I would have probably grumbled something profane and ill-befitting of an upstanding young man. She mentioned some crap like “Oh, I hope you don't mind that I brought a few friends.” Yet again, it's good that I chewed orbit gum that day because heck yes I minded! And to add insult to injury they were all about as smart as a box of rocks... add some glitter to those rocks and they might have been as pretty too. For some reason I thought that maybe if I treated her friends exceptionally well that she would like me a lot more too. So, I paid for all her friends and I just told myself “Look at me! I'm a real Mormon now! I'm on a date with 4 girls!*” It wasn't entirely fun but I just bore with it for hopes that the chick might like me. We then went to dinner, yet again I paid. Then she told me she had to go do something real quick and excused herself.
*The LDS church does not condone, practice or encourage polygamy in any way. Just thought I'd clear that up)
Now when someone says real quick you may expect that that person will be back in a minute or two but you'll allow up to five minutes for the benefit of the doubt. Nope, 37.5 minutes later (I TIMED IT) she returns. She said something about how she had to run an errand... SHE WENT GROCERY SHOPPING and left me at the table with her 3 friends that made the 3 stooges look like Harvard graduates...but I endured. I think I realized that it was going nowhere when she said “Well, Kevin, I've had a nice time but I better get going.” She gave me an “I-don't-really-care-for-you-so-I'll-give-you-a-side-hug-with-zero-feeling” hug as she texted someone on her phone.
The Charlie Brown Christmas theme played as I walked to my car with my hands swaying lifelessly at my side and my head hanging low. It was then that I realized I had cleaned the blood off the front of me but in my anemic state had forgotten to clean some of the blood in other spots such as my neck, ears and back of my hair.
It's a good thing I had sworn off swearing...
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Achievement Unlocked- Live Past 23
January 4th,2012I'm not much a video gamer...I never really have been. I played a little bit when I was younger but totally stopped in my teens and twenties. Recently though, I started playing a couple games here and there and I've discovered something called achievements. They are little goals/accomplishments that you achieve during a game such as "Complete a level in under 12 seconds" or "Complete the entire game on hard" or "Dislocate your knee while trying to impress your friends in Dance, Dance Revolution!" A little window pops up and it tells you that you achieved something. These are accomplishments that range from easy to impossible things and based on the difficulty you receive a certain number of points. Falling to your death could be 5 points while beating every single level of a game might be 20 points. They give you a sense of purpose during boring points in the game or maybe it requires you to do a little more than the minimum amount of work to achieve something. Either way, they're fun! So, I thought: what if life was like that?! What if it had achievements?! Something more than just your average goals...though I don't know how much pleasure I would take in completing life in 12 seconds or purposefully playing through life on the hard difficulty, I'm sure there are people! I actually did dislocate my knee while playing a dancing game... I would take an achievement for that...and I better get a lot more than 5 points if I fall to my death!
So, today I started setting some goals/achievements for my life; some call 'em a bucket list, some just call them goals...either way they're achievements! The list is not comprehensive, just stuff I thought of while I was driving today. So, without further ado, here is my list.
Write and record a full album of songs with me doing all instruments and singing…even if no one hears it or likes it! -10pointsSky-dive over Hawaii -10 pointsBuild a house with my own hands that I can one day leave to those I love -15pointsBe a gladiator in Rome for a day (They totally still do it!) -5pointsGo to Jerusalem and pray in the garden of Gethsemane -5pointsServe another mission -20pointsStudy the Old Testament from Genesis to Malachi -5pointsGet one of my novels published -5pointsDonate an organ to someone who really needs it (I’m working on being more charitable and I thought this might help me put a little heart into it) -20 points minus 5 points for the bad punLearn to play the violin- 5 pointsRun a 5 minute mile in a marathon -5pointsStop a crime from happening -10pointsHave a career where I’ll be sad when I retire -30pointsGet my pilots license, fly to Vegas for lunch and fly back before I have to be at work…all in one day -10pointsAdopt a child from a foreign country -25pointsTour Europe and speak without a translator in each country I visit -20pointsBe a good enough teacher that the kids remember me and what I’ve taught -25pointsDo a stand-up comedy routine for people I’ve never met and actually make them laugh -5pointsWrite, direct, film and star in an indie film and submit it to film festivals -10pointsHave my wife and kids never doubt that I love them and would die for them -50pointsVisit all 7 continents -30pointsGo vegetarian for a month -5pointsDress up as a bum, go around asking people if they have a dollar and if they say they don’t then I will give them a dollar -5pointsVisit all of the 7 new wonders of the world -5pointsBe the cool uncle -30pointsLearn Italian or French…probably Italian, I don’t like escargot -10pointsTeach my daughters how to fix cars and teach my sons to cook -10pointsHelp people who break down on the side of the road -5pointsBe a seminary teacher -5pointsOvercome my fear of giving blood -75pointsDonate blood (voluntarily, haha!) at least 3 times every year -a bajillion pointsEat a pickle without hurling… if I throw up it will be called a puke-le… -10 points plus 5 bonus points for thinking up the word puke-leVisit all 50 states -5 pointsGo Heli-snowboarding -10pointsLearn and become a master at one of the martial arts -10pointsGo back to Bolivia and find the people I taught but didn’t baptize and succeed this time -30pointsBreak one of the Guiness World Records -15pointsGo to the moon on Virgin Galactic Airlines (IT EXISTS!) -30pointsHide in a Wal-Mart and sleep overnight -15points plus 15 if I don’t get caughtStart a snowball fight with complete strangers -5pointsSay once in my life: “You can’t fire me! I quit!” -5 points but subtract 5 points for being dumb enough to get firedDig to China… -1492points
Stop! Grammar Time!
January 3,2012
So, day 3...blah blah blah. I'm so proud of my...blah blah blah. No, but seriously! I'm way surprised I'm still doing this!
So, I'm a grammar Nazi. I'm not opposed to a call for complete genocide on those who misuse the words their, they're and there or too, to and two or even you're and your. I minored in English, I have read through the LA Times with a red pen correcting the incorrect punctuation, grammar and spelling and I cringe every single time I watch Star Wars and hear Yoda speak. With that being said; I will not stress myself on this blog about being overly proper with my grammatical, typographical, syntactical or anything-else-igraphical correctness. Mostly because I do my blogs on my phone and it's kinda hard for me be too uptight when I have 3.5x4 inches squared of space on my iPhone screen to move my gigantic hands and fingers upon... no, seriously my fingers are huge... if by some freak accident my fingers got stuck between a hot dog bun I wouldn't fault you if you tried to take a bite... I'd be lying if I didn't say it's happened to me...twice. Maybe four times.
Anyway, the reason I think about the fact that I am a grammar Nazi is because today I started my college classes again and it became painfully evident to me that most people are either Math-oriented or Language-oriented...there's some idiotic theory about the different hemispheres of the brain, I dunno... I will be the first to admit that I only barely fall into the latter category but I KNOW that I'm no math person. So, I sat in class and the math teacher decided to use an allegory to explain infinite sets. He begins writing on the board while using an example: "Imagine that Joe works at the front desk of Hotel Infinity: Hotel Infinity has infinite rooms. As he is starting his shift the person that he is taking over for says 'All the rooms are full.' Joe then sits down just as a bus full of infinite people shows up and each person needs a room. Joe decides that he will move each person to the next room so that there is sufficient space. He moves the person in room one to to room two. The person in room 3 to room 6. The person in room 6 to room 12, etc., so that there will be space." I raise my hand and he says "Caleb, would you like to finish the set?" I said "No, I actually didn't understand anything you just said, I just wanted you to know that you spelled infinite, algorithm and augment incorrectly." After grumbling something that sounded a lot like a disjointed string of obscenities about my mother under his breath he just erased everything on the board and said "This is going to be a long semester."
Now, you need to understand that I hold such a high disdain for all things mathematical that I've already decided to start a break-off sect of Mormonism that believes in all the things Mormonism currently accepts except math (see how I used both accept and except correctly?) because I am convinced that Satan/Lucifer, the father of lies and contention, destroyer of happiness, the mortal enemy and the morning star also created Math. Don't believe me? The earliest developers and users of math were the Babylonians who coincidentally were the first to refine the mustard seed to make mustard (Satan's first invention after his snake-suit). Point made.
Well, as you sit there and reflect on the fact you just wasted five minutes of your life reading about grammar I want you to recognize that there is a warning/subtitle that explicitly states that this blog is simply my random ramblings and I am following through on that! I just wanted to establish that my grammar is gooder than you'res.
And now, your moment of zen...
So, day 3...blah blah blah. I'm so proud of my...blah blah blah. No, but seriously! I'm way surprised I'm still doing this!
So, I'm a grammar Nazi. I'm not opposed to a call for complete genocide on those who misuse the words their, they're and there or too, to and two or even you're and your. I minored in English, I have read through the LA Times with a red pen correcting the incorrect punctuation, grammar and spelling and I cringe every single time I watch Star Wars and hear Yoda speak. With that being said; I will not stress myself on this blog about being overly proper with my grammatical, typographical, syntactical or anything-else-igraphical correctness. Mostly because I do my blogs on my phone and it's kinda hard for me be too uptight when I have 3.5x4 inches squared of space on my iPhone screen to move my gigantic hands and fingers upon... no, seriously my fingers are huge... if by some freak accident my fingers got stuck between a hot dog bun I wouldn't fault you if you tried to take a bite... I'd be lying if I didn't say it's happened to me...twice. Maybe four times.
Anyway, the reason I think about the fact that I am a grammar Nazi is because today I started my college classes again and it became painfully evident to me that most people are either Math-oriented or Language-oriented...there's some idiotic theory about the different hemispheres of the brain, I dunno... I will be the first to admit that I only barely fall into the latter category but I KNOW that I'm no math person. So, I sat in class and the math teacher decided to use an allegory to explain infinite sets. He begins writing on the board while using an example: "Imagine that Joe works at the front desk of Hotel Infinity: Hotel Infinity has infinite rooms. As he is starting his shift the person that he is taking over for says 'All the rooms are full.' Joe then sits down just as a bus full of infinite people shows up and each person needs a room. Joe decides that he will move each person to the next room so that there is sufficient space. He moves the person in room one to to room two. The person in room 3 to room 6. The person in room 6 to room 12, etc., so that there will be space." I raise my hand and he says "Caleb, would you like to finish the set?" I said "No, I actually didn't understand anything you just said, I just wanted you to know that you spelled infinite, algorithm and augment incorrectly." After grumbling something that sounded a lot like a disjointed string of obscenities about my mother under his breath he just erased everything on the board and said "This is going to be a long semester."
Well, as you sit there and reflect on the fact you just wasted five minutes of your life reading about grammar I want you to recognize that there is a warning/subtitle that explicitly states that this blog is simply my random ramblings and I am following through on that! I just wanted to establish that my grammar is gooder than you'res.
And now, your moment of zen...
Monday, January 2, 2012
The Back-Scratch Plaque
January 2, 2012
Wow! Day two! Look at me fulfilling 2/365ths of my goal for this year!
Recently I started reading a blog entitled "Confessions from a Mormon Bachelor Pad" which chronicles the lives, times and adventures of 5 or 6 young, single Mormon guys. The themes deal heavily with what it's like in the Mormon world of dating, and particularly, making out as much as possible.
They've included some true statements about Mormon guys, hilarious stories that any LDS guy can relate to and they've made me notice the similarities between their house and my own mormon bachelor pad of 4 guys and the countless dudes that pass through our doors uninvited but very welcome. One of my favorite lines from their blog is: "I've decided to propose to the first girl who scratches my back during Sacrament Meeting without being asked." After clearing it with 3/4 dudes at our pad we've decided that that statement should be printed on over-priced paper (...y'know that stuff they print pictures on? Yeah, that stuff!), laminated by a Japanese laminator who has learned the secrets of lamination from his samurai great grandfather, framed in an over-priced frame and hung in our ward building for all the chicks to see! There is far too much asking going on! ...how much more obvious can we make it when we're leaning forward "reading scriptures"? This will eliminate the unmarried population of the church altogether!
That being said: I've laughed a great deal at their blog and empathized with a lot of the stories that they tell but I've been a little disappointed with their actions being attached to the "Mormon Returned Missionary" stereotype. For example a line that struck me like a bogey flavored jelly bean (gotta love the nerdy Harry Potter references) was this: "After we've made out a few times, I realize that I was only interested in her for "the chase". Once I've caught her and we've made out, I'm done."
The whole "make-out, take names later" thing and their idea that girls are just a name to add to a list is way disheartening to me! Don't get me wrong: I'm not perfect! I've had my fair share of dumb moments, not with kissing but with a little mid-movie cuddling or having my fingers intertwined and laced with some girl's fingers like a french braid on picture day...but it wasn't for the sake of adding a name to my list and it wasn't without respect for said chick.
I think the reason this strikes home for me is because I JUST gave a lesson on this in our elders quorum meeting yesterday! The lesson was about the dudes respectin' the chicks and not having the kissing mentality of "If she has a heart beat then she's for me!" ...and sometimes I wonder if for some guys the whole heart beat thing is not a requirement but a nice bonus. In fact I found the blog as I was prepping the lesson. I laughed way hard and even shared some of their stories with the elder dudes.
They stopped writing the blog almost two years ago...in my glass is half full/"that girl totally lost my number, that's why she hasn't called me" optimistic mentality I bet they got married and there are no more bachelors at said pad. They all have little one year olds running around and they lived happily ever after, right? ...I want to continue their legacy with a blog by the five or six bachelors that reside at our pad but with a perspective from dudes whose list of girls kissed does not fill up an entire Lisa Frank trapper-keeper.
Lesson learned: chicks, we dudes love you and respect you...unless you go on a date with us and do any of the following things: grab your belly fat and jiggle it for us, insist on popping one of our pimples, talk about how your ex-boyfriend took you to red lobster and wonder aloud why we won't (There's a good reason "ex" is the prefix to boyfriend on that one), tell us about your lifelong goal to make out with Eminem or say "you're like a less cute version of my ex but you'll do!"
(Note: all above things happened at least once to one of us.)
Wow! Day two! Look at me fulfilling 2/365ths of my goal for this year!
Recently I started reading a blog entitled "Confessions from a Mormon Bachelor Pad" which chronicles the lives, times and adventures of 5 or 6 young, single Mormon guys. The themes deal heavily with what it's like in the Mormon world of dating, and particularly, making out as much as possible.
They've included some true statements about Mormon guys, hilarious stories that any LDS guy can relate to and they've made me notice the similarities between their house and my own mormon bachelor pad of 4 guys and the countless dudes that pass through our doors uninvited but very welcome. One of my favorite lines from their blog is: "I've decided to propose to the first girl who scratches my back during Sacrament Meeting without being asked." After clearing it with 3/4 dudes at our pad we've decided that that statement should be printed on over-priced paper (...y'know that stuff they print pictures on? Yeah, that stuff!), laminated by a Japanese laminator who has learned the secrets of lamination from his samurai great grandfather, framed in an over-priced frame and hung in our ward building for all the chicks to see! There is far too much asking going on! ...how much more obvious can we make it when we're leaning forward "reading scriptures"? This will eliminate the unmarried population of the church altogether!
That being said: I've laughed a great deal at their blog and empathized with a lot of the stories that they tell but I've been a little disappointed with their actions being attached to the "Mormon Returned Missionary" stereotype. For example a line that struck me like a bogey flavored jelly bean (gotta love the nerdy Harry Potter references) was this: "After we've made out a few times, I realize that I was only interested in her for "the chase". Once I've caught her and we've made out, I'm done."
The whole "make-out, take names later" thing and their idea that girls are just a name to add to a list is way disheartening to me! Don't get me wrong: I'm not perfect! I've had my fair share of dumb moments, not with kissing but with a little mid-movie cuddling or having my fingers intertwined and laced with some girl's fingers like a french braid on picture day...but it wasn't for the sake of adding a name to my list and it wasn't without respect for said chick.
I think the reason this strikes home for me is because I JUST gave a lesson on this in our elders quorum meeting yesterday! The lesson was about the dudes respectin' the chicks and not having the kissing mentality of "If she has a heart beat then she's for me!" ...and sometimes I wonder if for some guys the whole heart beat thing is not a requirement but a nice bonus. In fact I found the blog as I was prepping the lesson. I laughed way hard and even shared some of their stories with the elder dudes.
They stopped writing the blog almost two years ago...in my glass is half full/"that girl totally lost my number, that's why she hasn't called me" optimistic mentality I bet they got married and there are no more bachelors at said pad. They all have little one year olds running around and they lived happily ever after, right? ...I want to continue their legacy with a blog by the five or six bachelors that reside at our pad but with a perspective from dudes whose list of girls kissed does not fill up an entire Lisa Frank trapper-keeper.
Lesson learned: chicks, we dudes love you and respect you...unless you go on a date with us and do any of the following things: grab your belly fat and jiggle it for us, insist on popping one of our pimples, talk about how your ex-boyfriend took you to red lobster and wonder aloud why we won't (There's a good reason "ex" is the prefix to boyfriend on that one), tell us about your lifelong goal to make out with Eminem or say "you're like a less cute version of my ex but you'll do!"
(Note: all above things happened at least once to one of us.)
Genesis
January 1, 2012
I wish that this blog post was as cool as the title promises it to be but, unfortunately, using the name of a biblical text to signify the beginning does not guarantee a "righteous" post... *sigh* I'm sorry for that horrible pun, I'll repent later. Fortunately, most of the posts from here on out will not be this long, this is just an intro.
I had the goal to write a blog post 365 days this year...we'll see how far that goes since it's already January 2nd and I've already missed a day... however, I took courage when I remembered that 2012 is a leap year, thus 366 days allowing for me to screw up once. Isn't it just like me to use my "free life" on the first day of my goal...oh well, it's only 3 hours past January first so I'm just going to play ref and say "It's January 1st!"
This blog is just as it promises: my random thoughts in text form, most likely spewed forth like unto my random thoughts that accompany my normal speech. Perhaps an introduction is necessary for anyone new to me.
I'll keep this simple since it's 3am and I can't sleep.
I'm a pretty simple guy. Probably the biggest thing about me is I'm Mormon, it has kinda made me who I am and explains a whole lot of the "Why the heck do you do what you do, Caleb?" I served a mission in Bolivia...that's a country...in South America (I'll save you the time you were about to spend googling where it was located). Most everything I do, and coincidentally why I am so stinkin' happy, is because I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (the length of the name affects the validity of the church in no way...though that is a really long name isn't it?!)
I'm trying to become a teacher. I just finished my Bachelors Degree and I am working on my credential now.
I have a beautiful, wonderful, funny, awesome chick who is merciful enough to let me call her my girlfriend...catch is that I gotta live like 4 states away from her...not exactly the trade-off I was hoping for but she's worth it.
THE ROOMIES
I live with three dudes and one chick... one dude is married to the one chick so it's kosher, right? I try not to analyze it too carefully... One dude is a swing dancing guru extraordinaire who seems to be hindered little in his wooing of the ladies by any follicular challenges he may or may not experience and who is probably one of the greatest guys you can have in your corner should you need a favor. Another dude goes by the pseudonym G-Dub but coincidentally is, externally, the whitest you can get before crossing into albino territory but internally is equivalent to Wesley Snipes, he is also the resident spiritual buoy/gospel doctrine teacher of our ward. The aforementioned dude and chick who are married are recent newly weds who do not seem to have qualms about eating in front of the hungry, flaunting how in love they are in front of two single guys and a guy who spends every evening cuddling with a pillow cuz his girlfriend lives four states away. Said dude and chick can get away with such cruel and unusual punishment because they just so happen to be two of the coolest people ever invented.
Appearance
Height: 6'3
Weight: ~190
Hair: I say brown whilst some argue blonde...bronde then.
Genealogy: Irish, English, Native American and I'd argue a bit of troll (we're all quite tall in my family and there was heavy drinking in my family tree).
Attractiveness (as decided by a polling of chicks who couldn't care less): 8
Coolness (as decided by my 4 roommates): 8
First Date Q&A
From: The part of California where people don't have tans and where dudes don't say "Hey Bra!"
Family: An older brother who's far more attractive than I am and whose sanity I applaud considering the amount of drugs he's imbibed, a sister who is far too witty and cynical considering she's not even old enough to drive.
Also, two parents, still married after 27 years, consisting of a father whose spirituality and intelligence tower over the masses but whose sense of humor leaves said masses wondering if he meant for the joke to be so bland (Heck, he probably inspired that genesis/righteous joke!) and a mother whose dizzying intellect, wit and compassion make her the funniest person I know while being an example of love and care. I'd like to think that I am a personality-frankenstein who enjoys equals parts of all aforementioned people.
High School: Didn't go... Got my Associates degree instead of a HS diploma...shh, don't tell any of my employers.
LDS Mission: Bolivia Santa Cruz (2006-2008)
Church Calling: Elders Quorum President
Education: Bachelors Degree in Bilingual Education
Job: Lackey at Sherwin Williams (If somebody calls in SherMAN Williams one more time I'll probably shank a foo'!)
When I Grow Up: An elementary school teacher
Music: I don't like everything but almost. I hate it when people say "I like everything!" ...No, you don't. Listen to 1980s era Lady Gaga and tell me that: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jm-i35k4vX8
Motto: A day without sunshine is like...night.
So, before this night becomes day, I'll bid y'all adieu! Here's to day 1 of 365!
I wish that this blog post was as cool as the title promises it to be but, unfortunately, using the name of a biblical text to signify the beginning does not guarantee a "righteous" post... *sigh* I'm sorry for that horrible pun, I'll repent later. Fortunately, most of the posts from here on out will not be this long, this is just an intro.
I had the goal to write a blog post 365 days this year...we'll see how far that goes since it's already January 2nd and I've already missed a day... however, I took courage when I remembered that 2012 is a leap year, thus 366 days allowing for me to screw up once. Isn't it just like me to use my "free life" on the first day of my goal...oh well, it's only 3 hours past January first so I'm just going to play ref and say "It's January 1st!"
This blog is just as it promises: my random thoughts in text form, most likely spewed forth like unto my random thoughts that accompany my normal speech. Perhaps an introduction is necessary for anyone new to me.
I'll keep this simple since it's 3am and I can't sleep.
I'm a pretty simple guy. Probably the biggest thing about me is I'm Mormon, it has kinda made me who I am and explains a whole lot of the "Why the heck do you do what you do, Caleb?" I served a mission in Bolivia...that's a country...in South America (I'll save you the time you were about to spend googling where it was located). Most everything I do, and coincidentally why I am so stinkin' happy, is because I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (the length of the name affects the validity of the church in no way...though that is a really long name isn't it?!)
I'm trying to become a teacher. I just finished my Bachelors Degree and I am working on my credential now.
I have a beautiful, wonderful, funny, awesome chick who is merciful enough to let me call her my girlfriend...catch is that I gotta live like 4 states away from her...not exactly the trade-off I was hoping for but she's worth it.
THE ROOMIES
I live with three dudes and one chick... one dude is married to the one chick so it's kosher, right? I try not to analyze it too carefully... One dude is a swing dancing guru extraordinaire who seems to be hindered little in his wooing of the ladies by any follicular challenges he may or may not experience and who is probably one of the greatest guys you can have in your corner should you need a favor. Another dude goes by the pseudonym G-Dub but coincidentally is, externally, the whitest you can get before crossing into albino territory but internally is equivalent to Wesley Snipes, he is also the resident spiritual buoy/gospel doctrine teacher of our ward. The aforementioned dude and chick who are married are recent newly weds who do not seem to have qualms about eating in front of the hungry, flaunting how in love they are in front of two single guys and a guy who spends every evening cuddling with a pillow cuz his girlfriend lives four states away. Said dude and chick can get away with such cruel and unusual punishment because they just so happen to be two of the coolest people ever invented.
Appearance
Height: 6'3
Weight: ~190
Hair: I say brown whilst some argue blonde...bronde then.
Genealogy: Irish, English, Native American and I'd argue a bit of troll (we're all quite tall in my family and there was heavy drinking in my family tree).
Attractiveness (as decided by a polling of chicks who couldn't care less): 8
Coolness (as decided by my 4 roommates): 8
First Date Q&A
From: The part of California where people don't have tans and where dudes don't say "Hey Bra!"
Family: An older brother who's far more attractive than I am and whose sanity I applaud considering the amount of drugs he's imbibed, a sister who is far too witty and cynical considering she's not even old enough to drive.
Also, two parents, still married after 27 years, consisting of a father whose spirituality and intelligence tower over the masses but whose sense of humor leaves said masses wondering if he meant for the joke to be so bland (Heck, he probably inspired that genesis/righteous joke!) and a mother whose dizzying intellect, wit and compassion make her the funniest person I know while being an example of love and care. I'd like to think that I am a personality-frankenstein who enjoys equals parts of all aforementioned people.
High School: Didn't go... Got my Associates degree instead of a HS diploma...shh, don't tell any of my employers.
LDS Mission: Bolivia Santa Cruz (2006-2008)
Church Calling: Elders Quorum President
Education: Bachelors Degree in Bilingual Education
Job: Lackey at Sherwin Williams (If somebody calls in SherMAN Williams one more time I'll probably shank a foo'!)
When I Grow Up: An elementary school teacher
Music: I don't like everything but almost. I hate it when people say "I like everything!" ...No, you don't. Listen to 1980s era Lady Gaga and tell me that: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jm-i35k4vX8
Motto: A day without sunshine is like...night.
So, before this night becomes day, I'll bid y'all adieu! Here's to day 1 of 365!
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