Stills by Olympus

Captain Comic

2011-04-04T01:57:00.000-07:00

I couldn't sleep. I have a to-do list as long as my arm, so what did I do?

It was excellent. I died at the second level on my first try, and I made it to the moon on my second try. My third try is going to be sleeping again.

because I heart Chilly

2009-12-28T21:37:00.000-08:00

Blueberry muffins could always do with a bit more blue.

best decision I've made in awhile

2009-06-21T21:45:00.001-07:00

...to become a reviewer for jazzreview.com.

Today I got my first shipment of stuff to review, and I am ecstatic. This is the raddest thing ever. Hooray free jazz music! Stay tuned for links to the actual reviews.

this is why we love my brother

2009-05-06T07:19:00.000-07:00

I met my brother at Wendy's last night before Institute, so he could get a Frostee and I could get a Baconator. (Yeah, yeah.) As we stood in line to order, I said, "I was listening to Flogging Molly in the car. Are you jealous?"

To which he replied:

"... I was flogging Molly."

FTW

I think everyone should buy these.

2009-03-24T08:47:00.001-07:00

Heh.

Email kycia(at)advertisinganything(dot)com to have these cups FOR YOUR VERY OWN!

RELATIVELY LONG-TERM BOARD WRITER FINALLY CUTS THE APRON STRINGS

2009-02-26T12:13:00.000-08:00

Feb. 25, 2009

BOARD CITY-- A year and a half after completing her undergraduate degree, Brigham Young University 100 Hour Board writer "Olympus" retired from writership today.

"After 25 months of writing, sort-of writing and not writing, it was time," she said. "I thought maybe I could allow someone who had even a summer home in Provo take my place."

The former writer said she was looking forward to the now-empty nights at home, which were formerly occupied by several hours of question-answering, daily.

"My consistent, in-depth research on social marketing, communications, jazz, professional development, street musicians in New York, and Dating Habits of Everyone will continue," she said. "My research on mints, Joe Biden's feelings on 'The Office,' gymnastics gym rules in California and emergency road flares may lag. So feel free to still come to me on that easy stuff."

She followed up that her extensive Board writing hours would be replaced by WIRED magazine, air hockey, woodworking and traveling outside of her current town to find dates.

Her roommates, Jane Doe and Jane Doe_1, said they looked forward to now having Olympus' help cleaning the kitchen and attending parties, though they didn't hold out much hope that her new-found free time would result in any extra time cleaning up after their pets.

When asked about readers who may experience abandonment issues, Olympus responded that, while it will be good for them to "buy their own $#*% phone books," she will miss trying to help them solve life issues about the Abrahamic Covenant and going to bat for them against the Board's more tear-evoking grammar blasts.

She said she would especially miss making assumptions about the readers' sordid dating lives and delving into her expanded-on-the-Board-dime dating library to shell out advice tinged with just a little too much personal experience. The abandonment, she said, will subside.

"Those abandonment issues probably started months ago anyway," Olympus said, "so at least they're probably used to not having me around. By making it official, at least I can stop sending child support. That's the way it works here."

One of the Board's distinguished editors, Yellow, said the organization would miss Olympus' broad contributions on topics she had no experience with.

"Those emergency road flares were a crowning moment; a peak, even," said Yellow, smiling fondly as he remembered. "Even if that was her first answer."

Optimistic., a former Board editor brought out of his own retirement to comment, allegedly said the Board was losing a valuable asset in Olympus' shrinking Provo contact-base.

"It's why we hired her, after all," he said in a quote submitted (and possibly written by) Olympus. "Now that it's mostly gone, she is worth more as a writer than ever. I can't believe you aren't fighting to keep her on."

In lieu of flowers, Olympus is accepting cash donations to her 401k. "While the Board's retirement plan is better than some out there these days," she said, "it still leaves room for improvement." Donations can be routed to #8471463 at First National Bank of Board City.

###

hahahhahaahahha

2009-01-14T16:21:00.000-08:00

My boss's 8-year-old niece just told me they don't have school on the 20th. I said, "For the inauguration?" (We're getting off work for it, too.) She said, "Yeah, we're going to watch it at [the black cultural center in our city]." I asked her if she was excited, and she said yes, so I asked her why.

"Because Obama's the first black president. And he's going to get sworn in. And maybe gas prices will go down."

Nice. I asked her why she thought gas prices would go down, and she hadn't the faintest. So I asked her why she cared about gas prices, since she clearly doesn't pay them. She said, "So my mommy and daddy don't have to pay more money."

I thought that was sweet.

In other news from her, she just made a snake out of the Play-Doh I keep on my desk. I asked her if it was dangerous and she said no. I asked her how she knew and she said, "Because I made it, and I'm not dangerous." Makes sense.

I don't live in Utah anymore.

2009-01-14T15:29:00.000-08:00

I cry for the irony of this schedule.

I will repost an old, old concert review from a different blog, to explain myself. (I will edit some for relevance, but apologies for the style ... I was some four and a half years younger and hope I've matured some in my writing ...)

I ran home, fixed my hair and makeup a little, and took M's car to go pick him up at the HFAC. He drove (obviously) and we went with a drummer friend of his, J, and J's date was R the cellist. We went to Jazz at the Sheraton, which somehow I misconstrued as being in Provo. (I forgot which hotel it was, mostly......sigh) I figured it out when we started to pass Lehi. (I'm not really that dense, I just kept thinking, oh it's around Orem. Oh, it's around Trafalga. Oh, I have no idea why we're still driving. Then I was a little worried because I had VT'ing set up at 9 and it was kind of important, but I decided that there was nothing I could do about it at that point, so I relaxed and just thoroughly enjoyed myself. I called my roommates during intermission and let them know how dumb I was and VT'ing got rescheduled.

This woman!!! That was just about the sweetest vocal jazz I have EVER heard in my LIFE. There were some parts where I was just dancing (in fact, because it was dark and we were in the last row, I made Matt get up and west coast with me for just a minute during one song), and a couple songs that just melted me to my seat. One in particular, "Polka Dots and Moonbeams." M looked at me, it was funny, when the song was over he said, "You look all starry-eyed!" lol...that's about right. I decided that her voice was like cognac. Not that I know. But I read something in an English class once about how cognac is kind of thick and runny at the same time, and very very smooth. and a deep red. I told M that I get a little stupid at jazz concerts, he was like, "You haven't been to one in awhile, have you?" Which is true (I haven't been to one since the last one I went to with N actually, I kinda avoided them for awhile), but it's also true that I'm always like that....hahaha. He said it made it more fun, so that was good.

Anyway, I love jazz. It's always ten times better live, too. Oh, I never exactly specified - Jazz at the Sheraton is in SLC. What else did she sing? Oh man. Her name was Stacey Kent, btw. She sang "People Will Say We're in Love" and "Surrey with the Fringe On Top" from OKLAHOMA and she sang a song from State Fair, too. That was really fun:) She did some Irving Berlin and Ray Charles. oh man. Ha...also, M bought his Wynton Marsalis tickets and held those over my head all night. Every time I said something mean to him he'd just kinda say, "Remember what I've got in my pocket???" Dang him.

bio

2008-12-02T09:02:00.000-08:00

I just sent this list of questions to my coworkers to use for their company bios. I was impressed with myself. Dear readers, feel free to answer these in the comments, on your blogs, at your dinner table tonight or for your own company bios. Awesome.

-What is your favorite wood?
-What's your favorite children's book?
-If you had a 3'x3' patch of wall space with which to do whatever you wanted, what would it look like when you were done?
-Describe your family using the Periodic Table of Elements: http://www.webelements.com/ (You can click on each element for a description.)
-What has been your favorite project in your work history?
-If you had to mix any three liquids and drink it, what would they be?
-If you had to mix any three liquids and make someone else drink it, what would they be?
-What's your favorite thing about our company?
-Why did you want to work here?
-What purpose do you fill at our company?
-If our company had a mascot, what would it be?
-Describe your favorite room in your house.
-Tell me about your life.
-At work, what organizational tool could you not live without?
-What's your favorite book and why?
-What's your favorite movie and why?
-That you've ever tried, whose macaroni recipe do you like the best?
-What's your favorite sport?
-Which hat best fits you and why? (beret, football helmet, baseball cap, fedora, darth vader mask, one of those Chinese cone hats, sombrero, etc)
-What's your favorite class you've ever taken and why?
-What's been your greatest professional/scholastic challenge?
-Describe the funniest commercial you've ever seen.
-Describe a commercial that once made you cry. If you've never cried at a commercial, give an answer about why you feel like you had to lie about this - we're all friends here.

Obedience: A Mixed Metaphor

2008-11-20T09:03:00.000-08:00

The children of Israel, making their way through the mists of darkness, either hanging onto the iron rod or getting lost in the roots of the Tree (or maybe that's just Alternate Paths) on their way to cast their eyes upon the brazen serpent, while the people in the great and spacious building mock and laugh.

Also, because G "obeyed" my connect-the-dots (which may or may not have been added after the drawing was complete), we came out with a beautiful great and spacious building.

Moral of the story: Obedience is the first law of heaven.
Not Moral of the Story: Connecting the dots can only result in a great and spacious building.
Not Moral of the Story: We were thinking about changing that purple snake into a tetherball pole, but I don't think following the iron rod will lead you to tetherball. Necessarily.

cycling through

2008-11-13T12:39:00.000-08:00

I've got to say, going to funerals really sharpens your perspective on life.

Hot Dogs in the Context of Your Mother

2008-11-07T21:17:00.000-08:00

So, awhile back L'Afro and I were discussing 500-word essays, for some reason. We assigned topics to each other and flippin, and only flippin ever wrote his, to my knowledge. (L'Afro, apologies if you wrote yours and I forgot I saw it.)

The point is, I haven't read flippin's yet because it came with the caveat: "Don't read this until you've written yours."

After faithfully not reading his essay, titled "The State of the Universe in the Context of Robot Slaves, or: Where's my electronic manservant? or: You are not my mother! You are a Snort!", for more than a year, I have determined that I don't really want to wait any longer. Understandably, I hope, now that you've read his title. So here's mine.

Hot Dogs in the Context of Your Mother

As with many foods, I experienced my first hot dog in my mother's house. Probably cut up in tiny pieces on a plate by itself, the way I watched my cousin deliver a hot dog to his daughter only last week.

I imagine that was also where I determined I liked ketchup and not mustard; I am making this assumption based on the fact that it was also where I determined I liked wheat chili and not any chili with beans or spice - it follows.

I digress.

Mom had this desire, as I was growing up, for her children to learn to cook. After all, she was a relatively well-known cook throughout our social community, shouldn't her children at least know how to fend for themselves? So started "each kid cooks once a week." That was pretty short-lived, but it didn't end before the rule sprouted up that I couldn't make French toast and hot dogs every time. Apparently I was supposed to learn to cook other things - don’t worry, now I can make macaroni and cheese, too. As in, more than one kind. And stuffed peppers and rice pudding.

But fast forward to college, the time in my life to which these cooking lessons were pointed. Er ... the first time I would have to utilize those skills, anyway.

My staple foods in college were eggs, French toast, quesadillas and hot dogs, but I'm just saying. Sorry, Mom.

Then I learned to broil the hot dogs on the oven rack - grilling for inside! - which sort of shot any extra effort from that point forward. That was a revolutionary point in my cooking life that Mom should be proud of. My life was enriched, though, when I discovered New York hot dogs and Nathan's hot dogs. It was a whole new world. Cooking began to mean something, that "something" consisting mostly of 100% beef, onions, sauerkraut and the tentative advent of my mustard affinity.

Nathan’s are the gourmet of all hot dogs, but they cost between $4-5 per package of eight. Too bad I don’t like other kinds of hot dogs anymore, and don’t make fun of me because this is worth it to me. My mom does, though. Last year for my birthday, she bought me a package of them and some for dinner. She didn’t think they were worth it.

Think about it, though. A package of eight hot dogs for $4-5 dollars. I stopped in a Phoenix airport recently and picked up a Nathan’s hot dog and fries for $3 each last weekend ($3 for the hot dog and $3 for the fries). Turned out it wasn’t any better than my packaged stuff, at only fifty cents per quality dog!

I guess the moral of this story is that my mom doesn’t really have a lot to do with hot dogs in my life, but she loves me and I love hot dogs, so sometimes they cross paths. I think that will suffice.

hey.

2008-11-07T00:10:00.001-08:00

After a recent admonition by CPM about my lack of bloggingness, I present to you:

Hey, here I am, blogging.

Sorry, it's 2 a.m. and I feel like blogging but I haven't been in the blogging mindset enough lately to actually have anything to say.

Between the twinkling light out my back window and the fact that I saw Short Circuit tonight, I think we may have aliens in the backyard. Welcome, this is Earth. Input.

I am an anti-fan of the cats who live in my house. There was a dead mouse in my hallway tonight. I have less animosity toward them now than I used to; it's more dead irritation now.

Our dog is tiny.

I bought hot dogs.

I made corn bread tonight.

I have a goal to sleep more this weekend.

My ward is having an Ado Annie dinner tomorrow night. I refuse to decorate a basket and try to make some random guy fall in love with my questionable home ec skills. If anything I would bring a pizza and sit in the back ... instead I'm staying home to watch a movie. Sorry to not support the activities committee ... if anything, I'm showing my opinion by boycott. Ten bucks says the girls outnumber the guys 2:1.

My roommate made pie. She says I can't have any since I didn't help (I was helping my friend with cornbread), and I don't believe her. But somehow I am not too concerned even if she stands her ground. I have hot dogs. And also Lucky Charms.

I talked to L'Afro today. It was glorious and I want to finish our conversation soon. Call me back when you can, dear.

I won't decorate my room the rest of the way until it is clean. Or buy anything for it. That will make an IKEA trip seriously unproductive if I don't finish soon, and also, I am coming into a fake ficus tree in December, so I'd better be ready for it.

Anyone bored yet? Sorry, I'll write something better next time, I promise. Leave me some topics in the comments if you really want to spur some action. Or make me think of them myself. You know, whatever.

a wave hit it

2008-10-13T11:25:00.000-07:00

If you watch this it will make your entire day.
Perfect especially for engineers and PR or media people, or anyone in any field who must know what they're talking about at some point ...

holy amazing

2008-10-09T11:11:00.001-07:00

My new favorite bed:

No one go out and buy it before me, I want to be the first kid on the block to have one. It rocks ... and, as I've pointed out, LITERALLY.

And my new favorite, most-looked-forward-to establishment:

See if you can beat me there. (It's in New York so maybe that won't be as hard as I'd hope ...)

erm

2008-09-27T22:19:00.001-07:00

I need a Garth Brooks cd. Why have I never taken care of this?

"Hanging Out" with CPM

2008-09-05T07:26:00.000-07:00

The true story, in response to Curious Physics Minor's bold statements in his recent "expose" of a fictional crime syndicate bearing my name.

Over the course of my writership, Board parties and other functions led me to meet a certain Curious Physics Minor (known casually as CPM). We didn't talk much at first, but as other writers came and went, it was inevitable that we began to chat. At first, I was impressed and, admittedly, always intrigued by CPM, with his debonair demeanor, his seemingly endless knowledge and his charismatic, friendly disposition. We became friends and eventually began to spend a bit more time "hanging out."

I soon discovered why the Brethren are so opposed to such activities.

One night, as CPM was leading me through some Wii Fit exercises in his basement, he let down his guard a bit and accidentally called our workout sessions "training." Being of sharp mind myself, I didn't say anything but took quiet note. As the evening progressed, I drew out small details here and there, and finally pieced together a picture that was anything but a casual friendship. So this is where "hanging out" leads, I thought.

Being a discerning guy, CPM must have noticed something different about me, despite my efforts to hide it. I think he assumed I was figuring things out, because he went upstairs "for a drink of water," (like working out would make CPM thirsty) and came back with a couple of keys, a metal box and a little bottle of some thick, clear liquid.

He entered the room; I stood, with the plan to inch toward the door while we discussed boxing tactics. But CPM would have none of it. He had locked the door behind him, and "persuaded" me to join him on the couch. Before I knew it, I had ingested the liquid in the bottle and was powerless to object to anything CPM asked of me. Between the drug and his charm, I was stuck.

The next hour was filled with instruction on bike mechanics, layouts of apartment complexes, technical specs and promises that "this [theft] won't hurt a bit." (Alma 11:23, I thought, but there was nothing I could do.) I was now an unwilling operative of the Commanding Proprietary Marauder (known casually as CPM).

**

To be continued ...

Hhhhhola, como EH-STUH??

2008-09-04T08:56:00.000-07:00

From my sister:

So, for my Spanish homework today, I had to fill in the verbs in different sentences. These were no ordinary sentences, however. Ah, no. Welcome to the world of pick-up lines written by Spanish textbook authors. I've decided to translate these for you so you could see their craziness. Enjoy.

1. What are you doing here so early? Didn't you know the stars never come out during the day?
2. A pencil without a point cannot write, and I without you cannot live.
3. If I didn't know that angels live in heaven, I would swear you were one.
4. At breakfast, I don't eat because I think of you. In the middle of the day, I don't eat lunch because I think of your lips. In the afternoon, I don't snack because I hear your laugh. At night, I don't sleep because I am dead from hunger.
5. I would that I were a mosquito so I could place myself on your ear and tell you how much I love you.
6. You are the combustible that feeds the fire of my passion.
7. I will be without air if I cannot see you soon.
8. Rainbows follow special people like you.
9. I know that I need a heart to live, but more-so, I need someone to make it beat.
10. I don't need night to fall to see the stars because I have your visage.
11. As long as math doesn't fail and Pythagorus doesn't lie, you will be the most handsome boy on the continent.
12. Do you know why there's a hole in the ozone layer? Because your eyes looked at the sky.
13. I don't want the moon; I don't want the sun; I only want your care, for I die for love.

Ugh. Barfola. bahahahahahahahaa, who even thought of these?! Who's EVER used Pythagorus in a pick-up line? Oh man.

--

Don't worry. We'll Pythagorus your theorem. And it will be hot, and in Spanish.

Risk

2008-08-20T20:19:00.000-07:00

So I played Risk thoroughly on my own team, with no help, for the first time on Sunday night. The group I play with makes the game a lot like that reality show Survivor - strategy, playing with human personalities as some of your game pieces.

I made an alliance like two turns before I was given some pretty good advice that, however, would force me to choose between my ally and the two people who gave me the good advice. (Who didn't know about my alliance, and who would be kept safe by my taking their advice rather than what my secret plans with my ally would have done to them).

(I was concentrated in eastern Europe, with A's armies filling western Europe and sparsely populating Africa - I kept asking him to take his armies out of Europe, but instead he was building them up. He was strong to the west and the south of me. AB held Australia and was relatively strong in the China-Mongolia area, but was threatened to the southwest by A's northeastern African armies and by Z's armies coming down out of Russia. K held South America, loosely, and held a strong presence in central America, threatening Z's North American presence. I allied with AB to take out A on all sides of me and on her one side. A few minutes later, K left to get something and A and Z suggested I slip through North Africa to take over South America and wipe out central America. This was a pretty safe move for me and A would have left me alone, I could have built up in South America for awhile and then come back as a formidable force, but I would have left AB to face all of A's armies alone, plus I wanted the rest of Europe.)

I listened to their advice and said, "That's a good idea," then, over a turn or two, as I strengthened myself, I took ALL of my armies (besides those left holding western Europe) into North Africa (as suggested by A and Z) so A and Z wouldn't get scared and start to battle me before I was ready. When I was ready, I moved into North Africa and then turned around and swept A's two most populous European holdings, leaving enough men to be reasonably fortified while I built up to take out the last two or three of his European countries over the next turn or two (knowing full well he would probably hit me early). AB, my ally, took care of Z to her northeast and was building up to take out A's armies that I was worried about to my south.

The game ended the next turn because it was getting late and tempers were running short.

The moral of this story: I LOVE strategy games, though I'm still getting used to playing them and am not very good yet. BUT. I HATED how I felt having to betray one person or the other (it may also make a difference to mention that A has been my faithful Risk tutor thus far). I wouldn't have wanted to go against either of them but I stayed with my alliance because I made it first.

But I felt so bad! It was like it wasn't a game anymore. I mean, it's just a game but when it gets personal, it's not as fun. I might just take a break for awhile. I've played three times in the last week and a half or so.

I guess that's what I have to say about that.

one to one

2008-08-13T07:14:00.000-07:00

This woman is trying to fax me an article. Our fax line sometimes has issues, and she said the fax machine kept going to a voice mail. I finally asked her if she had it electronically, and if she could just e-mail it to me, because that would be the best. She said she didn't know how. I told her I was the only one here right now and I didn't know how to fix the fax machine, but that I would call her and let her know to try again when it was ready. She said, "Well, you don't know how to fix the fax machine, and I don't know how to do the other thing, so we're even."

No. That is not even.

named the baby.

2008-07-01T23:17:00.000-07:00

This is the car I ended up buying a few months ago, except it's white.

I said I was going to host a naming poll, but unforeseen circumstances yielded a natural name and kicked you all out of the process. Sorry about that.

My radiator hose split a couple weeks ago, and the new one I bought had one of those dot stickers on it, on which someone had written "Helen." (Hopefully it wasn't a claim sticker or something.) As home to radiator hose Helen, I figured the only name choice left was Troy.

The main objection I keep coming up against is all the boys who swear that cars are only female (which is negated anyway if only by L'Afro's Howard and Atticus), to which I counter that countries and cities are female too, so my car can be a female city Troy if they feel that strongly about it.

the ticket lottery ... after years of trying, I finally won!

2008-06-20T16:21:00.000-07:00

My driving record:
__________________________

__________________________

There might be some parking tickets on there, except that I have never actually paid any of those parking tickets, and I don't know if they go on your record if you don't pay them. (I now consider the occasional paper under your wiper blade just another part of working downtown with 2-hour-limit meters. You sometimes just forget to go refill them. I'm pretty conditioned, though. Sometimes when I'm at a friend's house or something I'll panic after I've been there awhile, wondering if it's time to go put money in the meter.)

I happen to be one of the world's worse speeders, however. Well, I guess there are a lot of really bad speeders out there, so maybe I can't really claim that, but I usually feel like a snail if I'm not passing people pretty regularly. For someone with as much "lateness tendency" as I have, I have always considered it a mighty grace of God that my record has stayed like that for the near-decade since I started driving, as speeding has saved me from countless "late to work"'s.

Today, however, I met my match.

I was doing 71 in a 55 - all you who are calling me an elderly driver after hearing that, back off. That was only because I was slowing down for my exit. For those of you calling me a speed demon, that part of the freeway shouldn't be 55, anyway. The rest of the freeway is 65. (Which I still think is too slow.)

Anyway, that cop was rad. I knew I'd been had as soon as I turned the corner - that's a speed trap I always forget about, and he was practically pointing his radar gun in my face. He turned out to be the nicest cop ever, and took my ticket to 65 to boot. It's not even that inconvenient, because I work practically next door to the courthouse.

I have this respect for that cop, partly because he works in a rainforest on a motorcycle and was sweating like a dog when he pulled me over, and partly because he administered my christening ticket. I should have gotten his name and asked to take a picture with him. I guess a copy of the ticket will have to do.

I don't think all the credit goes to my cop, though. One possibility is that God decided it was time for me to come into my own. On the flip side, my roommate and I both left pretty late today, so she prayed we'd be safe on our way to work - she might well have prayed that cop on me. I'll let her work that out of her conscience while I'm over here, trying to figure out if the money I've made not being late to work exceeds the cost of my ticket, which I suspect it will, hands down.

interesting

2008-05-24T13:20:00.000-07:00

I decided to splurge a little this weekend and take advantage of the Memorial Day sales, to make my room AWESOME (the only area I really have much control over, because my friend owns the house I live in). I got a 5x7 area rug (black, brown and beiges), a wine-colored comforter set, and a 300-thread-count set of beige sheets. Nearly everything was like 50% off.

Just wait. Oh man.

________ Is Not the Answer

2008-05-02T08:30:00.000-07:00

I'm in a haiku-writing thing with some friends, and this week I came up with the theme because I was bored at Other Job. So bored, in fact, that I wrote mad numbers of haikus on this theme:

Saying No is Not the Answer
Clearly we need you
Every second of your life
should belong to us.

Emo (is not the answer, etc.)
I start to talk as
Though I want to cut myself.
I just sound stupid.

Busy Signals
Please get call waiting
The 21st century
is now upon us.

Violence
(this one is lifted from somewhere, though not in haiku form. The idea's not original.)
It's not the answer
unless the question is: "What
is not the answer?"

Hanging Up
Goes without saying:
"the answer" comes well before
any hanging up.

Your Mother
(funny bc I still make your mom jokes.)
"Your mom" jokes are old
I've never met your mother
I'll bet your mom's nice.

High Fashion
Your bubble wrap skirt
must be recycled
from my last Fed-Ex.

Pencil Sharpening
I can tell you're bored,
Tired, antsy, or maybe
it's actually dull.

Not Buying a New Lock
I can't work this lock
Excellent security!
Except, I live here.

Boiling
Watched pots never boil.
Handy, too, because this one
can't boil (or will burn).

Patriotic Cats
This cat wants YOU! to
feed, pet, and trip over him.
Especially trip.

the marketing of the future

2008-04-30T08:45:00.000-07:00

You would do well to check out this story and the links I've provided at the bottom. I hope you've heard about this already, but if not, please be blown away.

http://www.ibelieveinharveydent.com
http://www.ibelieveinharveydenttoo.com (highlight the page)
http://www.whysoserious.com

Thanks to my friend Kyle (who, incidentally, was just sworn in after passing the bar) for showing me the original article.

i saw the sign

2008-04-18T07:41:00.001-07:00

No ones gonna drag you up
To get into the light where you belong
But where do you belong?

That's our choice, huh?

"Do you ever blog anymore?" --flippin

2008-04-17T11:54:00.001-07:00

Yeah, well.

Things have been busy. I'm writing a lot of articles these days (and consequentially spending a lot of time out on the road, interviewing and taking pictures), not doing sales anymore, but I work around 60 hrs/week. My work is thrilling, fascinating, enthralling, and whatever else your thesaurus can turn up. I've done a few new things lately as well:

-- I bought that car I was complaining about (which will need a name; I'll post pictures soon and the polls will open) -- it's a white 1995 Toyota Tercel with fantastic gas mileage, broken door handles, no dome light, bad wheel bearings (I'm fixing them soon, don't worry) and cracked leather seats. The previous owner (who sold it to me for $650 - bless the man and his dear wife) called it "his little go-cart." The only thing that makes me scared to drive it (besides those bearings) is the way I feel like I might blow off the road on a windy day. I need to gain some weight.

--I went to a drag race. A real one. Where people can just pay the $7 cover charge and go in and race their Hondas next to the dragsters. Freaking rad.

--I went to a minor league baseball game. It wasn't my first ever, but it was my first of the games here in the town I grew up in. Haha. It was rad even though we got creamed. I think it's time for a trip to the batting cages.

--I bought a softball. It's too white (it needs some dirt and scuffs, I'll work on that).

--Soon I'm going to an af2 league indoor football game. This really will be a first. This morning I interviewed the owner of the team.

--I learned to throw a football.

--I saw Forrest Gump. I know, I know.

--I thought seriously about being a high school English teacher.

--I moved out of my parents' house into my friend's house. Paying rent in the same town as my family is weird.

--I did my own taxes. Hooray for Turbo Tax. My home state made me mail it (since I was filing in two states they wouldn't accept an online file), so I hope I sent them all the right stuff.

All right, enough of this. Life updates are boring, sorry. I'll quit the list thing and write a real post soon.

curse you, Dragon Lady!

2008-04-17T11:52:00.001-07:00

Dragon Lady posted a link to this typing test thing, and my scores have ranged between 83 wpm to 100 wpm (it falls between 97-100 if I'm really concentrating). Don't think I'm not going to to try to beat 120 next.

I wonder how fast I'd be if I cut my nails ...

when I was your age ...

2008-04-14T10:25:00.000-07:00

Today I called someone's car phone.

I know I post a lot about the weather.

2008-03-28T07:51:00.000-07:00

Hey, don't worry everyone! We got a cold front!

Right now it's 44.

Not exactly what I meant by "please let it not be quite so hot," but okay.

Somehow we need to settle into some happy medium. The forecast keeps us to mid-sixties for the next ten days. We'll see how that works out.

the long walk

2008-03-27T11:49:00.000-07:00

I park my car an extra block or two away from my office, but still at a meter so I'm forced to get outside and walk a couple blocks every two hours (the meters have a two-hour limit).

I've really come to look forward to this, but today was the first actually hot day we've had, and that makes me really nervous for the summer. Summers are always bad here, but it's in the mid-80's and only the end of March.

On the elevator back up to the office just now, I thought about my room in the city last summer and of my less-than-appropriate sleeping attire, windows open and ceiling fan turned up. Here I have air conditioning ... maybe this summer will be bearable, after all.

CPM: Two in one week! Man oh man. :) I believe this is what we call "flying colors."

naturally

2008-03-24T10:00:00.001-07:00

This is one of the images that came up as I was searching for medium haircuts today.

and other mind-numbing activities

2008-02-27T18:29:00.000-08:00

I hate car shopping.
I hate insurance shopping.
I hate tag pricing.
I hate mechanic's bills.
I hate bank loans.
I hate credit scores.
I hate committing to a monthly payment that isn't rent.

In other words, my life is about to get much more complicated and I don't like it. Not that I'm dragging my feet.

photo by Christian Abraham

another story

2008-02-18T19:18:00.000-08:00

Another of Dad's stories. Tonight, about an elephant.

--

Once upon a time there was an elephant. This elephant was very patriotic - he was very American. One day, some very bad men invaded his country.

--Invaded America?
--No, a different country.
--I thought you said he was American.
--Well, he liked America a lot. He was an American elephant. But this was a different country.
--What?!

So, this elephant and all his friends set about trying to defend their homes. Fortunately, some soldiers came to help them out soon. The soldiers came up in submarines and surfaced to help the elephants get rid of the bad guys. Unfortunately, the bad guys had some airplanes that saw the submarines surface, and they were going to shoot at them.

The elephants got thinking and they realized that the submarines were gray, and that they (the elephants) were also gray. Not only could they help shield the good guys - they could also act as camouflage! So they all lined up on the beaches, and those planes just looked and looked and said, "My, my - it's so cloudy down there, we can't see a thing." So they left, and the good guys were saved!

And then the elephants just went back over the hills and trampled all the rest of the invaders.

And that's the end for tonight.

--Isn't it funny how you can tell Dad's just as surprised by the ending as we are, when he gets to it, because he starts laughing too...

long-ago post I never published

2008-02-18T15:13:00.000-08:00

Three character sketches: people I met on a temp assignment last year.

Stan grew up in this city. When he was a kid, he made friends with a homeless woman who lived near his house, and when it got cold around the holiday months, his family made up a bed for her in their garage, showed her how to get in and told her to come anytime. She never did. Stan had some solid opinions, his goal was to make $100/mo., and we had fun chatting about the different concerts he's been to downtown.

A few years ago, Steve got out of prison for nonviolent felony. Somehow or another, he ended up helping take care of a very sweet and slightly off homeless woman named Starla, after her friends took advantage of her and cheated her out of a bunch of money (in their words). Then, he married Starla. They're sort of an odd couple, but they fit each other well and care fiercely for each other.

I met John when he helped me lay carpet one day. He used to be a carny and told me all about what it was like traveling around with the different fairs and running the rides. I think he usually worked the booths where you pay for five tries to hit a thing and win a stuffed animal, or something. He said it was hard for a lot of people to do well at that job because they would try to talk the men out of playing the game and essentially gambling all their money away, because sometimes they could tell the men were playing over and over and spending what they should have been using to feed their kids. Their consciences would pick at them until a few weeks later they'd quit.

100th post and list of firsts

2008-02-07T07:02:00.000-08:00

Though I didn't plan it this way, it seems fitting that my 100th post should be about a bunch of firsts I had this week.

Starting small, this week I listened to Snow Patrol for more than five minutes before giving up and moving on. I actually liked them this time.

Dusk in my city is rather pretty, and while the sparks flying from the light post (feeding the fire at the foot of it) added a nice touch to the overall scene, I didn't figure it was supposed to be happening. Hence my first 911 call.

This week's weather: Weekend=snow; Monday=78-degree high; Tuesday=snow. I begged a few friends to come outside and play with me on Monday night. I thought we might buy a kite. Instead, we went off-roading (and almost got stuck) in a gorgeous truck so we could get out to an isolated place, where I shot my first semi-automatic handgun. My aim was so precise that I took out several specks of dirt in one shot, nearly every time.

As a burgeoning saleswoman, I usually take my boss along with me on sales calls right now, given my track record of one (1) month's experience selling. This week, with her help, I made my first sale! It was a good one, and even though it was actually a sale I knew we'd make going into it (not only is the buyer currently featured on the cover of our magazine and has advertised with us in the past, but she's been friends with my publisher for quite awhile), it still means money in the bank to me.

The surprise, though, came only two business days later, when I went to a friendly "getting-to-know-you" meeting with a super nice woman I met in my networking group. She ended up buying advertising as well - constituting my first sale by myself! (I texted my boss to let her know and she was surprised and excited -- this sale, while admittedly much smaller, excited me billions more than the first one, given I did it without her help.)

I went out with a kid from the ward this week. We drove in his little loud-engined red sports car to a pool hall and shot a couple games (not a first, though I guess the date was a first with him). The pool hall happened to be located on our city's main "drag" (I feel so late-nineties using that term), and he told me he doesn't race because he's such a target in that car and everyone always wants to race him. However .... we happened to sit at a stoplight next to a friend of his, chatted a minute, and when the light turned green - you guessed it. My first drag race. I laughed like a kid on the Test Track ride at Disneyworld.

say what you mean and mean what you say

2008-01-29T12:02:00.000-08:00

me: I have a problem

flippin: no kidding.

me: You are one of my favorite people ever. hahhaha.

That wasn't my problem.

flippin: That would be a problem though.

me: flippin, I don't know how to say something without talking my way into it, sometimes. (Nah. It wouldn't.)

why can't I just say what I mean?

1:52 PM I just got off the phone with a guy who was confused as to why I had an appointment with him

and I explained that I thought we would be a good advertising venue for them

and he said, "Oh, so you want to market yourselves to me?"

The correct answer would have been, "Yes. Yes, I do."

1:53 PM The answer I gave was, "Yes, well, and also find out what your direction is and see if we can help you, you know, in other ways, like with our magazine, and not just advertising."

He was like, "Eh? OK ... well, we can still meet."

and I said "thanks" and hung up.

Blah.

flippin: Practice the following phrases: I want to sell you ad space.

1:54 PM I don't want to go to your party.

me: I'm so scared of the idea of being a salesperson, I think, and all the bad image that comes with it. [Even if I'm not scared of actually being a salesperson. Just the image.]

flippin: You can't come to my house.

me: No, I can't say "ad space." It's "advertising solutions."

flippin: I won't watch your baby.

I don't drink.

me: Continue:)

flippin: Yes, I do think those pants make your butt look fat.

1:55 PM me: OK.

Thanks.

flippin: no prob.

chewing the fat about the weather

2008-01-29T08:50:00.000-08:00

Last night was amazing. I went outside to get something out of the car and was thoroughly romanced by the night air. Before going inside, I made a detour stop on the big trampoline in my backyard. I felt like I was in Utah on a summer night.

I was brought back to reality (and indoors) when the wind threatened to blow down some already-weakened branches down onto my head, but the gorgeous feeling stayed with me.

signs that I am in the right field

2008-01-16T16:50:00.000-08:00

Times I was expected at work this week:

Monday: 10 a.m.
Tuesday: 8 a.m.
Wednesday: 9:30 a.m.
Thursday: 7:30 a.m.
Friday: TBD

Percentage of full days this week I have been in the office, with no out-of-office responsibilities ("meetings," "appointments," "conferences;" see also, "field trips"): 20%, or one (1) day. (Friday. And that's still two days away, there's still hope.)

#People I have met this week because of job responsibilities: >25

#Days this week that were enough alike to be christened "the same thing every day": 0

on investments and other types of risk

2008-01-07T19:47:00.001-08:00

I'm not so hot at them.

In other news, I've had some recent blog visits from Indonesia, Latvia, Spain and the Phillippines. I believe those visitors are new. Welcome, welcome. Even if you stumbled upon me through a misdirected Google hit.

recalling back

2007-12-25T16:13:00.000-08:00

In case you were wondering, yes. After today, yes I do own the first season of Wonder Woman on DVD.

a Christmas moment

2007-12-22T19:37:00.000-08:00

Two Decembers ago, I hung around after a dance event really late after it ended (practicing, I think). There were only a few people still there, and everyone was leaving. I sat on the floor changing my shoes and saying good-bye to people while my partner waited to walk me home. My friend Eric left the ballroom about fifty feet away from me, and suddenly he turned around and rolled a bell toward me across the floor. When I caught it, he said, "Shake it. Can you hear it?" Before I had a chance to answer, he gave me a smile and walked away.

I still have it.

who's there?

2007-12-08T18:39:00.000-08:00

As many of you have probably guessed, I sort of have a phobia about answering my phone. I don't like to do it unless I'm by myself and/or I know why the person is calling. I prefer to listen to the message, have time to think about it, and then call them back. I almost never answer my phone when I'm not alone, partly because I feel rude and partly because I don't always know what the phone call will be about, whether it'll be a long one or a short one, etc., so I feel self-conscious.

Does anyone else do this?

This has been a message from Olympus, sponsored by her conscience.

my kid could paint that

2007-12-06T08:49:00.000-08:00

A year ago, my dear friend was working with the Sundance Institute, doing viral marketing up through the film festival in January. She had tickets to a film called My Kid Could Paint That, about a 4-year-old New York girl named Marla Olmstead (she's six now, and adorable, I might add) whose modern art paintings are making waves - thousands of dollars worth of waves, actually - and we had talked casually about my coming up to Park City to see it with her. I wanted to but couldn't get a car, or something. Things became desperate - "I really think you need to borrow a car and get up here now," -- so I borrowed a car and jetted up to Park City, but not soon enough to make the screening.

A few days ago - nearly a year later - I found a screening in my hometown. Scrounging up people to go was the hardest part (everyone hears the word "documentary" and thinks "I'm not paying to see one of those when I can watch the History Channel for free, and leave in the middle if I want" - come on, folks), but after hours of trying, I finally got a small group together. (Of course, then I hear it's in the dollar theater in Provo. Naturally.)

We had the theater to ourselves, except for a security girl who came in and out periodically. (I think she was watching the movie with us.) The movie opened with the air of an examination of the validity of modern and abstract art. The Olmsteads knew a guy who ran a coffee shop, and they put one of Marla's paintings up there just for fun. Shortly thereafter, he contacted them saying, "We need a price on these. People are asking." Another friend of the family owned an art gallery. A "hyper-realist" in style, the gallery owner began to show Marla's pieces in part because he saw her talent, and in part to poke fun at the modern community, as if to say, "Look! What you do, so can a four-year-old." Then, she began to sell. By the end of the movie, Marla Olmsteads were going for a good chunk of change.

Things got hairy when the family agreed to do a piece with 60 Minutes. Honestly, I'm not sure what they were thinking -- all through my communications education, I've gotten the impression that saying yes to 60 Minutes is nearly always a Bad Idea (mostly everyone who goes on this show comes out looking bad after it's all over), but whatever. The piece raised a lot of questions to the effect of "who's actually doing these paintings? Is it really this little girl?" This aspect of the story is still unresolved. It obviously changed the feeling of the documentary significantly, and it was really interesting to see how all parties involved reacted to this new angle.

The doc was done really well, in my opinion. Very objective in a subjective way ... it didn't rely on only the facts, it gave every opportunity to both sides, and it showed the emotion that was relevant and particular to the story. The filmmaker even included several clips of interview subjects criticizing him as a filmmaker, or expressing doubts regarding his motives. Talk about honest, up-front presentation.

I think one of the most interesting points the movie made was the illustration of "observation theory," if that's the exact name ... like in quantum mechanics or any social study, the idea that observation of an object changes how it acts. (You know, like if you're on camera, it's harder to act naturally.) Truth is altered in its presentation. Every story has an angle. The media gets a lot of flack for this, and admittedly we could always be doing better - but the media studies and works very carefully to present balanced stories, and still the general public perceives a biased media most of the time. That's why we need more than one witness for most things. This film was a prime example, both directly with its subjects and, taking a step back, as a film itself. The story was filtered through the filmmaker's eyes, too. I guess that makes it all that much more important to know who you are and what you believe, huh? No one can understand clearly enough to make those decisions for you. Sure, listen to people and sources you trust, but in the end, it comes down to you to decide what you really ascribe to.

It's weird that this little girl is going to grow up largely without remembering all of this, and all these pieces plus the things people tell her are all she'll have to go on - not too much more than we have, except that the older she gets the more she'll remember, and the hype doesn't seem to be going away just yet. I wonder if there are thousands of dollars worth of masterpieces that I did when I was four, that I've simply forgotten? I hope so ...

social networking WINS.

2007-12-01T18:28:00.000-08:00

I think it is so cool that the Republican debate tonight is taking questions from YouTube. Between that and my previous Lymabean entry, I started my family in on the term "social networking 2.0." I don't think they really cared, but such is the cost (perk?) of living with someone with a communications degree.

remember those magnets?

2007-11-28T15:08:00.000-08:00

Of course you do. Those ones that were everywhere for awhile ... no one I knew ever even knew where they came from. Anyway, from what I can tell (I think it was a Newsnet article), the Lymabean of the magnet days used to be mostly a buying-and-selling site, but now they've morphed into something a bit more exciting.

Just so we're all in the clear, I have a friend who works for these guys, and he showed me around a bit so I could tell you about it. The nice thing for you is that I'm not getting anything out of this, so I can say whatever I want, good or bad! It's a risky job PR people have ...

That said, this is a pretty neat thing. Lymabean is something like Facebook, but instead of having a focus on networking (Facebook is still accomplishing its purpose of keeping you connected to people even if you're only logging in weekly or less), Lymabean is more of a "use me" site. From what I understand, it's also exclusively for college students, while Facebook is open to anyone now. I mean, Lymabean won't kick you out when you graduate, but the site is so inherently college-campus-based, you wouldn't really have a lot of use for it once you graduated anyway. Really, Lymabean users would probably use Facebook, too.

In short, it's an electric shades-of-green site that interconnects people, businesses, clubs and community activity, in a given geographical area (specifically, a college campus, at least right now. I could see expansion to other community groups, but this is what it is now). It uses a Flash-based interface, so everything is drag-and-drop - it's actually amazingly user-friendly. I'm not sure if that will create problems for older machines (I don't think my Linux could handle it), but Flash is getting a lot friendlier the more people use it, so I'm sure there's a pretty high compatibility there. It has places for alerts, Craigslist-like listings (or to see deals from local businesses), chats, subscriptions, etc., but also has a lot of personal interconnectivity like Facebook. For instance, it still has the news feed function. But green! The one thing I haven't liked as well is that you can't resize the windows. I like resizing windows ... but at some point they'll probably add that. Oh, and I sort of wish all these boxes would just be in one box so you don't have to click in and out of everything all the time(that's why I would want to resize the windows instead of having them overlap), but for all its functionality, I suppose that's a small price to pay.

My personal favorite thing about this site (besides that it's green) is the media manager. It has a section for your music and video, slideshows, etc. You upload your own stuff and other people can stream it, and you can stream theirs. It's all legal because Lymabean pays the ASCAP fee (the same fee they pay in a basketball arena or somewhere they play the music publicly ... it's a broadcasting license). That gives you license to play whatever you want, like an online radio station. Raaaad. I don't know if it would replace my Imeem! but cool.

What it looks like:

In other words, be on the lookout for this. It'll come to BYU sometime in January-February, it sounds like, so this is a bit early, but it's cool enough to tell you about so you can start paying attention. If you care, you can check out more about them at www.lymabean.com or www.behindthebean.com - you can become an Insider at behindthebean and get a free t-shirt as a student pre-user, and see the pre-launch stuff. Perhaps most importantly, you can give your own input on the site. Anyway, it's very cool. Check it out.

reality (but not on TV)

2007-11-23T20:35:00.000-08:00

At the end of our canasta game today:

"It was my strategic decision to close out that pile just now that won the game for us!"-Mom
"You outwitted, outplayed and outlasted, Mom."-*Ann (my sister)
"Yeah!"-Mom
(Ann pats Mom on the back.) "You're The Biggest Loser!"
(laughter was had by all.)

They Might Be Sins

2007-11-21T09:28:00.000-08:00

-Anna Egg Ng (the alcoholic kind)
-Alehouse in Your Soul
-Everything Right is Wrong Again
-Chess Piece Laced
-She's a Devil
-Keep Coming, Little Bottle
-Searing-Ade
-Someone Keeps Pulling My Hair
-Nuclear Bullets of Pure Hate
-The Infamous Poke-Ugh
-In Jail
-I Should Be Allowed to Drink
-How Can I Sing Like Alec Ounsworth?

2007-11-01T19:00:00.000-07:00

Two pianos, two organs, a computer and an air hockey table greet visitors as they pass our front living room on their way through the main hall. That living room has been the home of more than 7,500 hours of piano practice alone (not to mention the organs).

Because I couldn't find one piece of music, I just organized all the music in that room out of boxes and benches and piles into two filing cabinet drawers, two Tupperware boxes and a bookcase. Tonight I opened that dang file cabinet drawer and sat down to play that piece - the last really good piece I learned before leaving for BYU - Chopin's Fantasie Impromptu.

I used to have it memorized, but apparently the last several years have left only a few lines intact. I was really surprised when it started differently from what I had remembered, but as I progressed through the pages, my fingers still remembered what to do most of the time.

In the last several years, I haven't had much opportunity to actually play the piano. Lots of accompanying and that sort of thing, but nothing classical. In fact, before pulling this Chopin out, I'd struggled a bit through some other, much easier music. Heck, I can't always play all the right notes in a hymn these days. I prefer to play around with the chords and do whatever I want, which works as long as I include the melody somewhere and am not trying to accompany a congregation. I'm not used to having to pay attention to detail anymore.

Fantasie Impromptu came out all right, though. Fantasie Impromptu is a much more difficult piece than any hymn. Just when my skill level appeared to be disappearing, I discovered I could still play this one?

I guess it has something to do with muscle memory and the fact that I spent so much time learning it (it took me about three months). Made me think about what a big deal it is to teach your kids good habits when they're young. My life is different from what it could be had I not learned good values as a kid - oh man - it's not too hard for me to see where I'd be without that, and I know I fall back on my family values a lot. Thanks to my parents, I have a way better life than I could otherwise. Same as how, thanks to my parents, piano teacher, and hours of practice, I can still play a really gorgeous song.

you know you need a job when...

2007-10-24T11:01:00.000-07:00

...you read the instructions on the Hot Pocket ("let cool for two minutes before you enjoy your sandwich") and think, "They used that language so the consumer can take ownership of their product."

At least, when I mentioned it to my mom, "You need a job," is what she said.

Those two minutes are up, anyway. See ya.

when dreams come true

2007-10-24T09:53:00.000-07:00

Last night I dreamed I bought seven really fantastic Halloween wigs for $2.16. I just realized it was a dream. Then I realized I dreamed about them because I saw them at WalMart a few days ago. Hooray!

another story

2007-10-18T19:36:00.001-07:00

Tonight's was about a car.

--

Once upon a time, there was a farmer in a little town. He had a little car that was all rusted over and he only drove it once a week, to buy his groceries. One day, some people from out of town came in and talked to the city, and they decided to build a big new freeway through the town.

So they built the freeway. However, with the freeway came some new people into town. There was something a little suspicious about them. They had very fancy, fast cars. Pretty soon, before they opened up the new road, all these new people gathered at the road to race their cars on it before it was open. They went in the middle of the night so they wouldn't get caught.

Before they started racing, the farmer put-putted up the road and came up to the people. He got out of his little car and said, "What's going on?"

"We're going to have a big race," they said. "You should go on home so you don't get run over."

The man said, "Oh, okay. That's a good idea," and he started to drive away. The people got into their fancy cars and revved their engines, and as soon as the flag dropped, the farmer's car spun around and went up on the road. He started passing the fancy cars!

"What is happening?" they thought. "We're losing to this farmer with his little putting car!"

All of a sudden, the rust dropped and the car became a shiny little racing car. Rockets burst out of the back and the farmer won the race!

As soon as everyone finished, the farmer surprised them. He turned out to be a high and fancy policeman, and he gave them all tickets and threw them in jail.

--"He threw them in jail?"
--For losing.

And then he went back to being a farmer with his little rusty car. And that's the end for today.

------

And there was much laughter.

a little too early, a little too late

2007-10-14T08:02:00.001-07:00

I would argue that Valentine's messages should be given at all times of the year, and we're sort of coming up on Christmas, which is a relatively romantic time.

Consider a world of options. As a preview, my favorites include:

VI. Emmatati kima diparum. Bishi tuppi libbiya.
You are hot like a torch. Be my Valentine.

X. Suhartum bantum suharu kalu, qadum yati irreshu.
Beautiful young woman all young men want you, including me.

XIV. Suhartum magal bantum atti. Yati kali u kati annashaq.
You are a very fine young woman. Restrain me or I will kiss you.

art to communicate

2007-10-02T13:49:00.000-07:00

I finished My Name is Asher Lev tonight. My head is swimming, as per usual when I read this one. The book itself feels like a masterpiece of the same nature as its subject.

The book explores art, in the context of painting and drawing and the visual arts. I appreciate the continued use of the term “art,” as it opens the door to comparison of my own art, and that of every reader this book could have.

My art form is writing. Sometimes writing music. Sometimes writing with words. Sometimes both. Asher Lev's is painting. His father's is traveling. His mother's is selfless suffering for the preservation of her family. In all of them it is their Judaism – even in Asher Lev, although he isn’t devout in all the same ways as his community.

To write honestly, must one write everything? Naturally, no. One must not write that which does not add to the work. Still, one must include everything that is pertinent and essential. Which works are important? That which runs deepest? In the final pages, Asher expresses – maybe in wonder, in “quiet desperation” of what is – the power in his painting hand. The power in that hand to amuse, to cause pain, to channel what is regardless of what may fight to keep it inside. So that power lies in the fingers of one who writes.

To communicate. To take your gift and use it for the edification of those who experience it. I have learned that that which edifies is not always enjoyable. God does not always teach through happy lessons and painless moments. Edification is the enlargement of a soul to greater understanding of truth. Truth is not always happy, but its alternative is useless, and that which is useless does not lead one to the eventual fulfillment (and joy) that comes from the work one can do with truth.

So a gift, as Asher discovers through the conviction of his teacher Jacob Kahn and then through his own experience, must be used as a vehicle for truth – the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Which stories must be told? Those which edify. Those which are a truth that needs telling, and not one iota more or less. More creates embellishment; less creates a half-truth which in so becoming has no integrity, either.

“These are my memories, Papa. No, I'm not saying that these paintings represent the truth; they represent how I feel about things I remembered when I was in Paris. They're not the truth, Papa; but they're not lies, either.”(p. 359-360)

“Art is a lie which makes us realize the truth.” -- Picasso

from the weather channel tonight

2007-10-01T15:37:00.000-07:00

"Tomorrow will be cool and crisp. Well - cool - 80 degrees."

a moment of complaint

2007-09-30T19:36:00.000-07:00

I need a life. It's so frustrating to be out of the Provo world where making friends is as easy as walking next door or across the way. I suppose that's what you get when you go from a ward of 200 active members to one of roundabout 40. It's not that I don't like it; it's just that it's a lot harder to make friends here. The ones I know already are great, and I'm getting to know others, but either way I'm used to going out or at least chilling for awhile every night. People just don't do that here. You have to drive to get anywhere, and people just don't. Well, not like in a college town where you just have to walk ten feet. Obviously it will be different, but I've been here a month and it's starting to get tiring, that's all. It's just a lot more work to make friends here. I feel like a stalker for hanging out with people more than once a week. Or once a week, as opposed to less than that. It's ridiculous.

Sorry for the least eloquent post ever.

priorities

2007-09-23T16:22:00.001-07:00

It's kind of a funny experience to be interested in someone for awhile, then check their Facebook profile and sort of change your mind based on their music and movie preferences.

a sunday drive

2007-09-23T09:12:00.000-07:00

Today I coasted almost the entire length of my neighborhood (I swear it must be on a northward incline, I don't know if it would work the other direction - I stayed at a pretty level 12 mph) while listening to instrumental church music. I pretended I was driving a horse-and-buggy. It was awesome.

a case of mistaken identity (zero calories)

2007-09-22T21:35:00.000-07:00

Today I got mistaken first for event staff and then for a model.

In all actuality I was just a temp worker.

"Treat a man as he is and he will remain as he is. Treat a man as he can and should be, and he will become as he can and should be." --Goethe

(heheh)

there will be snacks, there will

2007-09-19T20:05:00.000-07:00

My dad often tells a bedtime story to all the kids in my house. He asks what the story should be about, and someone chooses something (usually an inanimate object or animal), and he makes up a story around that. On a rare occasion such as tonight, I got to choose the thing. I have this kelly green toy cabinet that I used to play with growing up, so that was the thing. Here was the story.

--
Once upon a time, there was a cupboard. It was made of very rare, very precious wood, but the wood wasn't very pretty, so it was painted green.

One day, the family that owned it was thinking about just getting rid of it, since it was old and kind of beat up, and as they were moving it around it got knocked down the stairs. "Oh, well," they thought, but then the cupboard did something very strange. It sort of bounced down, and when they went to look at it, there was not a scratch on it. Again as they were moving it around, something lit on fire near it, and it burned the paint a little, but not the wood. The burn just sort of wiped off.

The family decided to keep it. One of the kids in the family started to put a book in the cupboard - a book that was obviously too big for it - but surprise! it fit perfectly. Everyone wondered a little about the cupboard.

One day lots of things went wrong at once. The house started to flood, and as the water rose, the little boy went to hide in the cupboard. He fit right in! He called to the others and they all got in the cupboard and it began to float like a little boat. They were just about to float through the window when some lightning lit their house on fire, and all the trees around the house - well - the parts that weren't under water.

The little boy had an idea. "Why don't we just close the doors?" he said, and they did. They rode the little cupboard through the fire and didn't feel too hot inside, or too cold from the water, and there was a surprising amount of room inside to move around. And they had games, and toys. And snacks.

--"What kind of snacks?" asked my 15-year-old sister.
--"Pringles," I said.
--"Chips. And cake," said Dad.

Then, they landed on a desert island. I mean, a tropical island, with lots of tourists. They played and had a good time before ... uh, they had to go back and rebuild their house. And that's the end for tonight.

----

My favorite part is trying to guess which parts are just extended so my dad can figure out the next plot point, and watching where he changes the storyline so that the thing can last five minutes. My thought for tonight is that a desert island would have taken more work to make interesting and then get them off, so since it's a story, let's just make it a party island and then they leave ... hahahah.

Hooray for stories:)

live in the Present

2007-09-15T20:42:00.000-07:00

You know, sadly enough one of the things I miss most about Provo is the movies. (Obviously the people are a big deal. Sue me. I also miss the movies.)

It's kind of a struggle. I got some good advice the other day, from a friend who didn't even know I was struggling (I don't think). It was pretty simple, really: "I know you miss the fun times here in Provo, but try not to think about it too much."

(Three posts in one hour! OK, come on, kids. Who feels blessed? Abused? Oblivious?)

internationalism

2007-09-15T19:40:00.001-07:00

One thing, however. Friday was rather international for me. I pasted Albanian, Arabic and Bosnian translations of a driver's license tests into the system that would administer them, while listening to Gogol Bordello (and the Everything is Illuminated soundtrack), The Decemberists, the Arctic Monkies, Joanna Newsom, Eisley, Mika, The Fratelli's, Jack Savoretti, The Lovemakers and Regina Spektor.

The time I probably liked the best was inputting the Arabic translations while listening to Ukrainian folk music.

By the way, did you know that "Provo" means "where" in Albanian? Or, at least, that was my best guess ...

much to say

2007-09-15T19:38:00.000-07:00

It seems these days as though I have more to say than other times, but I'm not around here often enough to write anything much down. I've got a new goal to learn how to write paper notes. haha. Whenever I actually sit down and have a minute, I have nothing profound to say.

best of

2007-09-05T19:58:00.000-07:00

I was going through a lot of my old notes for past classes the other day, and like many people, I like to write down funny things the professor says. This post will amuse most anyone, I think, but particularly those who have ever taken a class from Professor John Talbot. Sunnysnows, Luma Solem -- I believe you two will take particular enjoyment from this post.

Also, the original post was a lot longer. I tried to trim.

---

"All kinds of people gave me all sorts of advice, most of which I thought was very stupid. I don't hate any of them - well, I hate two of them, but I hated them before."

"What about forest fires, that afflict forests every year? I'm talking about the ones started by lightning, not the ones started by Boy Scouts."

"I'm from Salt Lake."-*Sam
"Salt Lake ... City? ... Utah?"-Prof. Talbot
"It's a little town, about 45 minutes north of here. In Utah." -*Sam
"Don't play games with me, I know where Salt Lake is."-Prof. Talbot

"I know what it's like to feel like Achilles because I'm so right so much of the time."

"Just like another name for Salt Lake is 'slick,' and another name for Provo ... I guess there is no other name for Provo."

"I like to give instructions in negative form - they tell you not to, they want you to be uplifting and all that, but a negative implies a positive, does it not?"

"I'm always just sort of flouncing around the room."

"What I need to do is hang out with a BYU student for a day, because I have no idea what your lives are like."
(student begins to volunteer ... probably the aforementioned *Sam.)
"Not you."

(to a football player) "You've done that, haven't you? Hit someone so hard their helmet falls off? Well, I would encourage you to do so."

"Last night I was reading --"-a student
"I don't care what you've been reading, we're not here for learning."-Prof. Talbot

"Just think of all the ways your parents messed you up. And then think of all the ways you're preparing to mess up your kids."

"[The library auditorium] is like being in the womb of nature."

"The best way to get this poetry off your back is to entomb them in the formaldehyde of publication, especially a publication that no one reads."

"There are several Homeric references. You might catch them - I doubt it, you'll be sleeping."

"In fact, I encourage you to sleep. That is how I will recognize you. I'm not sure I know what you look like awake."

"He was very drama-ish. Kind of mincy and swooshing."

"Flowerings of art ... Michaelangelo, Rafael and various other Ninja Turtles."

"I always feel like we could sum up this philosophy stuff in a few minutes. Oyyy. Let's move on."

"Hey, *Sam. Interestingly enough, we're talking about time, debating its existence."-Prof. Talbot
"So I might not be late?"-*Sam
"Yes, I was going to say maybe you should capitalize on this to argue the relevance of your punctuality."-Prof. Talbot

"When in doubt, draw Italy. There's Rome ... despite its name, it tends to stay put."

"Naysayers like Nelson Dunford always say, always debunking and bringing down ideas, very cynical, a very black turtleneck sort of attitude."

"You managed to get born, *Scott. Not that I'm saying I regret that, not that I'm emphasizing that."

"I have an idea. Tonight, let's dress up like salmon and go up the down escalator."

"I would like to make a western [movie] ... 'Look out! Native Americans!'"

"I don't see how what he's saying is completely bad."-*Kara
"That's because you are a wicked person."-Prof. Talbot

"Just to keep up the high scriptural standard you've set - at the last scenes of The Sound of Music, she says ..."

*Names have been changed, for no apparent reason.

2007-09-05T09:59:00.000-07:00

I live in a freaking rainforest.

And if you thought moving in Utah was bad, try moving in a rainforest.

an unsolicited blogpost; a.k.a., a PSA

2007-08-22T23:58:00.000-07:00

I am not in the mood to take adverse reactions to this, thanks. Comments not welcomed on this post.

A Few Helpful Hints, a.k.a., Take This and Be Thankful
How to Most Painlessly and Effectively Avoid Research Calls

1. Put your name on the Do Not Call list. This is for telemarketers (people who sell you things via telephone), and does not apply to research.

2. Once you have done this, if you get a phone call from someone you don't know, unless something is wildly amiss, they are not telemarketers. Answer the phone; ignoring their calls will ensure they call back at least once a day either until their project is over or until you show some indication that you would prefer not to participate. If you don't mind that, do whatever you want. Assuming you answer, be polite to them and assume they have something relatively valid to say. For example, many institutions use independent research firms (who may show up as private callers or introduce themselves on the phone as from the research firm) to take complaints from customers who have shown in some way (i.e., through their activity with the company) that they may be unhappy. Their call may be directly pertinent to you.

3. Hear the intro out. Find out what they want. The intros are designed to be short and will take very little of your time. Do not hang up on them: they will usually call back. (Also, if you continue to ignore their calls, again - you have not given a verbal refusal, for all they know you're on vacation or in the shower, and they will call back.) If you are not interested in participating, refuse, and ask (politely, as so many do, you'd be surprised) to have your number taken off their call lists. (Research firms have their own do-not-call lists; as the Do Not Call laws exempt these firms - making any threats to sue a futile and laughable offense to all in the call center ["I'm getting sued again today! Who wants to be my lawyer this time?? Hooray!"], the firms have their own lists. If you make this request you will henceforth be removed from all call projects coming from this firm. Any form of "Please put me on your do not call list" is a magic phrase that will almost certainly quickly shut up any caller and cancel any further attempts to ask you to complete any studies in the future.

Thank you, and have a nice day.

I believe!

2007-08-20T11:19:00.000-07:00

I have tried to watch so many meteor showers in my day. Really. I've had lots of shooting stars pointed out to me, and still had never actually seen anything. I finally declared watching meteor showers a futile endeavor, renounced my belief that they exist to the human eye and, well, gave it up for dead, so to speak.

However, I was convinced by more than one person (most of them relatively attractive, which never hurts) to go up to Vivian Park last Sunday night and watched the meteor shower, from about 11:30 p.m.-1:30 a.m. (I was going to get up at 3:30 to go, which I agreed to because of the pure adventurous nature of getting up at 3:30 a.m. to head up the canyon, but my phone [alarm] died; it was a good thing I'd gone up a little early.)

For the first time in my life, I saw - not even just one - but tens of shooting stars. Some followed by really strong trails of debris, even - long trails of white, undoubtedly astronomic Wendy's cups and used Kleenex being shaken off these meteors as they shot across the sky.

Anyway, yes, Virginia - shooting stars do exist!

"...You taught me the names of the stars overhead that I wrote down in my ledger
Though all I knew of the rote universe were those Pleiades loosed in December
I promised you I‘d set them to verse so I'd always remember

That the meteorite is a source of the light
And the meteor's just what we see
And the meteoroid is a stone that's devoid of the fire that propelled it to thee

And the meteorite's just what causes the light
And the meteor's how it's perceived
And the meteoroid's a bone thrown from the void that lies quiet in offering to thee ..." --"Emily," Joanna Newsom

just an announcement

2007-08-19T20:36:00.000-07:00

I finished Harry Potter 7 today. (Yeah, I know I was slow - I started rereading #5 a week or two before #7 came out. I didn't remember much at all from #5-6, so I knew #7 would be better if I took care of that first.)

Man, that was good.

the State of the Union

2007-08-07T10:28:00.000-07:00

I work in a call center now (we aren't telemarketers, just research).

When did it become okay, in America, to hang up on people, ever? What do these people's kids think when they see their parents hang up on us? What on earth does that teach?

I do confess, however, I did hang up on a guy once. I mean, in this job. He only got out half of his "g*d*" before I was gone. I hold that this was probable cause.

mmm?

2007-07-19T12:47:00.000-07:00

Lately, food in any great quantity (read: a normally-sized meal, with a curious exception for restaurants or maybe just food I don't eat at home) often makes me sick. This annoys me, mostly because it renders me hungry all the time. IV, anyone?

I'm not posting this to stir any great worry, p.s. I'm just fed up with this (heh), and - come, now - isn't it fun to share annoyances with the world?

happy fourth of july

2007-07-04T22:59:00.001-07:00

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Olympus. She was tight inside with indecision all over the place.

She liked boys who weren't good for her, boys who were, and boys who were in between; she just wasn't sure which were which. They weren't really any help in the decision, either. Sometimes she wished she could read minds so she could tell where she'd be wasting her time and where she wouldn't.

She wanted to get a (real) job, but didn't know where she wanted to be. She wanted to have a home, but couldn't until she got that real job. She didn't quite want to relinquish her freedom for a commitment like that just yet. She was willing to, but a little scared, too. She didn't want to become a power-suit woman, but she didn't want to hang out forever, either. It felt precarious to settle into somewhere she didn't know she'd get to keep (that went for boys, too).

She wanted direction in her life, but knew she should make her own decisions and then confirm them, too. That balance was hard sometimes.

Besides working and finding a job, she wanted to watch movies, read books and make friends. In her desire to put her whole self into each thing, she realized she'd have to make a few choices.

She wanted to walk, talk or blog about all this, but she wanted to go to sleep, too. Sleep hadn't gotten very high priority lately. Maybe that's why this post came about.

fireworks

2007-07-04T22:45:00.000-07:00

Possible symbolic references:

Man's search for meaning
Francis Scott Key's view while writing The Star-Spangled Banner
Social networking usage

This was a post because I wanted to post, not because I had anything real to say. I was just playing this game tonight because I played it a lot in high school (the "try to find something symbolic and utterly useless in any object around you" game), and I thought it would be fun. Turns out it was fun, but was too easy ... nearly cliche - so much so that I didn't include almost any of what I thought of. "Colorful explosions" aren't exactly a rare descriptive tool.

Maybe I have stuff to say, too, but not right now. Suffice it to share this, and the fact that I bought The Fugitive and The Client today for six dollars each. Yay hooray.

my roommate lived kosher for a month, once

2007-07-04T03:34:00.000-07:00

I shopped for/with her a lot of times ... and so, the Unilever brand gets me every time. Every time I see that little "U" on my shampoo, or like on that bar of soap I just opened, I think, "Hey, this is kosher. Good, good."

Russian national interest (which, incidentally, I know nothing about)

2007-06-16T20:23:00.000-07:00

Well, folks, it's happened again! Apparently I am impossible to read. I seem to baffle the teeming masses with surprising consistency - what's so confusing? Maybe it's the fact that I feel myself an open book, but the things I keep in and let out for tact or the comfortability of others sometimes seem to be set at random. Eh. I'm convinced you can't take people on anything but experience with them, and I doubt I'm any harder than anyone else. I just seem to hear it a lot.

For now, we'll just rest comfortably in the words of my friend T (not Mr. or Grand Master - this is a different guy) who warped what I think is Winston Churchill's WWII quote about Russia to say: "Girls are a mystery, wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in *bacon (cuz I like bacon)."

Oh, yes. Tonight, I am that girl.

On an unrelated note (I assure you), my whole hall smells like beer.

*Not that kind of bacon. Geez.

welcome to another round of Jazz with Olympus

2007-06-15T08:01:00.000-07:00

from my notes on a scrap piece of paper, at a jazz club

Holy cow. That first growl of the 1st trumpet sent of choke of excitement up my throat.
That sax looks like it was just unearthed, it's so caked-over-looking! Those seem to be the most throaty ones ... their lead sax just gave the cutoff! Haha ... and they just introduced their headliner sax soloist as "an interesting combination of saxophone and person." A Thad Jones piece next. Their bassist JUST USED A BOW. Their pianist is wearing a newsboy-Uffish hat. This band is so CHILL ... but with chops. The trumpets are playing way the heck in these upper registers, but quietly. By the way, I'm having catfish in a jazz club. Snap. This food is amazing, but I'm kinda annoyed by the distraction it provides, haha. Their pianist is RAD. "In a Sentimental Mood." Man! I love ballads. This sax - it's cliche - but it croons. But the cymbals with the tinkling - but actually not all that high - piano gives it the perfect background. I can't believe I'm here.

"Monkey Business" - Thelonius Monk - most of these are arranged by the same guy, who must have had some Kenton influences on his ballads - I know, everything comes back to Kenton with me. I told D I was most at home at this other thing we went to a couple weeks ago - a really thoughtful play - but that was until now.

The band is really warming up now. Um, my fries are cold. Dang this fabulous music. What the heck is this circus-sounding thing in the middle? Ha! Laughed out loud. They introduced the chart "Inside Out" by saying, "I'm not going to say anything, just gonna let it speak for itself." Lay off the freaking highest note on the keyboard, HA! I love it. Holy cow, man, work that slide, why don't you, mr. trombone soloist? Fastest, cleanest maneuvering I've ever seen. I love these bone mutes. D says they're probably straight mutes. And, there goes the first clarinet solo. I love anything Benny Goodman-esque. Next song, "Splankie," by Basie. I saw Basie's band in concert back in high school. mmm. This one is starting out with a really sparse sax solo (the throaty one) (tenor). It's really interesting, actually. Now, he's getting a lot busier and slowly climbing higher in pitch, too, while the band gets stronger. Ohh man.

Next song: "Remember This." The pianist can't find his music ... "why don't you just play it?"-band member "come on, just give him back his part."-lead sax. Um, he is, actually. Going to just play it. He's gonna do the whole thing by ear. I imagine they've played it enough times that if he can just get the key, he'll be all right. I wonder if he'll solo - my bet's yes. Their bone soloist right now looks kinda like a bigger version of a guy I used to work with. Also, I wonder if the two British guys at the table behind us came drunk? Um, yay for the piano, by the way. Check one for me - I was right - his solo was short and rad. Now the soprano and bari saxes are soloing together! We had dueling guitars in high school, but this!

Last song: "Battle Royale," by Ellington. This bari sax just pulled off the "obnoxious low blare." Sweet - that's talent. A lot of beginners attempt that because it's obnoxious, and therefore funny, but I guess once you've been around for more than a year or two it gets old and becomes the mark of an inexperienced soloist. However, somehow, this guy just did it, but with enough sensitivity, tact, and musicality - his choice of where to use it didn't sound like chance and because he was out of ideas, which is the reason most beginners use it - it was imposing, but only to the degree he wanted it to be. Way to be, man. That's really talent.

HOORAY for that clarinet! This throaty sax I LOVE - he just did this triple-tonguing thing on the same note - yay. And, the end.

Sorry for the disjointedness, there. When everything comes at you at once, what can you do? Man. I tell you what. Made me wish a little for the length of the Maynard Ferguson concert, even though it was so intensely long at the time. Tonight was quality stuff. Also, to be cheesy, let's dedicate this post to those who should have been there tonight.

-olympus

BBC headline today

2007-06-15T07:58:00.001-07:00

'Aftershave drink' kills Russians

Russian men are risking death by drinking aftershave and cleaning agents, a study has suggested.

Player 2 has entered the game

2007-06-14T11:47:00.000-07:00

Uffish: was it you that called to say you'd seen a zombie?

Olympus: Um, yes.Uffish: whaaaaaaaaaaaat?

Olympus: And, just to let you know, that's the best sentence anyone has spoken to me today.

Uffish: ha-HA!

I am the winner!

Olympus: Now, I will explain myself.

I saw a zombie. That is all.

Just kidding. but I was walking, and I passed this woman (this was before I passed the guy who was drinking out of a bag and singing The Temptations really loudly)

This really pale woman, I might add. I kind of smiled at her, and she just looked at me - woodenly, would be the best way to describe it - and her eyes were a little bloodshot, or so my memory thinksshe didn't smile back

she just sort of passed me.

So I called you to tell you about it.

And that is all.

modernizing

2007-06-11T06:39:00.000-07:00

Yesterday on the subway, a group of us were singing "Kumbaya," and, being communications professionals, we decided it was time to modernize. Don't worry ...

Someone's blogging, Lord, kumbaya
Someone's blogging, Lord, kumbaya
Someone's blogging, Lord, kumbaya
Oh, Lord, kumbaya.

Yeah, that's copyrighted.

your movie

2007-06-08T07:39:00.000-07:00

Has anyone heard the silly Mormon myth about "in the millennium, everyone will watch a movie of your life and all your sins will be made public"?

In the Times and Seasons blog, there's a post about this with some fantastic comments. One comment:

...Whenever I have the opportunity to teach the youth I try to stick to the factual important stuff.

I remember the whole movie thing and how it was repeated over and over and over again in seminary. I remember being asked how that made me want to live my life by a certain seminary teacher, and by then I had had enough of this silly idea and replied, "I’d want it to be so interesting that the people watching it would say , ‘Man, that guy is SO going to hell. But I wish I could’ve had his life.’” Needless to say the teacher was not pleased. --ronito, 6-4-2007, 4:50 p.m.

And, here he is. (Although, I imagine, not "ronito.")

shut UP.

2007-06-08T07:02:00.001-07:00

Sometimes it annoys me that the human mind is so busy. Sometimes I think I'd work better as a single-function machine.

i dream of ... what?

2007-06-08T06:52:00.000-07:00

In case anyone was wondering, my responsibility dreams are gone and have been replaced, finally, with real dreams. Last night: I was in a ballroom class. We were doing paso. For some reason I was there unexpectedly (on my part, at least, I just stumbled upon the class), so they fitted me for some shoes right there. (I hadn't brought them on my internship, so I couldn't even go home and get them.) I was still getting fitted when (apparently this was a seaside class) a storm came up and waves started tossing the fitting room around. Me and the guy who was fitting me were trying to get to where the rest of the class was. Then, hello alarm!

Maybe this came from the fact that I ran into some people just out of a ballroom class, who were practicing the footwork for some tango figures on the subway platform yesterday.

2007-06-04T07:01:00.000-07:00

What is it about this place that gets to claim so much?

I'm baffled over it, really. Over and over, in church meetings and wherever, people stand up and say things like, "If you've come to this city with a fractured testimony, you're in a dangerous place." or "I know it's hard living here, and it's easy to forget what you're supposed to be doing and get caught up." And that doesn't happen in other places?

What's so special about a city, that it thinks it can claim people like this? It's just a place. Just a bunch of people smashed into a bunch of buildings on a bunch of streets - in many ways, just like anywhere else.

The arrogance astounds me, but the whole world seems to be agreed upon it.

bah hah hah

2007-06-01T12:16:00.000-07:00

From the NYTimes:

Fred D. Thompson, in His Own Words:

Climate Change

"Some people think that our planet is suffering from a fever. ... NASA says the Martian South Pole's 'ice cap' has been shrinking for three summers in a row. Maybe Mars got its fever from Earth. If so, I guess Jupiter's caught the same cold because it's warming up too, like Pluto. This has led some people, not necessarily scientists, to wonder if Mars and Jupiter, nonsignatories to the Kyoto Treaty, are actually inhabited by alien S.U.V.-driving industrialists who run their air-conditioning at 60 degrees and refuse to recycle."

March 22, ABC Radio

other things I love here

2007-05-31T06:46:00.000-07:00

-Hole-in-the-wall restaurants with menus like this:

-cheap Chinese food (where $6 gets you three meals!)
-music
-people in my office
-international students
-cathedrals
-a light breeze at dusk
-hymns
-ukeleles :P
-red doors
-blue doors
-green doors
-red trap doors
-racial diversity
-the fact that I don't really notice racial diversity anymore
-energy
-parks
-Late to Work (the game)
-my dear friends
-unexpected situations
-a new spiritual environment

I've reached the point where every day is just every day, now. I don't notice things as passionately anymore. I think this is okay. It was wearing me out. At the same time, my time is short, so I notice some things with more interest because I know the city well enough now to know what I want from it. For instance, part of my birthday present is a visit to a high-end jazz club. That's worth SO much to me. Oh:

-subway t-shirts
-availability of high-end jazz clubs
-two stores in particular
-an office that's okay if I get lost in the city on accident during my lunch break
-bottle vendors on the street

Also, the ballet was fabulous. Yeah, a long time ago. But I felt the need to update. Fabulous. Ended with some good conversation and a hot little dessert spot, with continually good music and great lighting. So pleased.

Bottle I bought for $12 for my bottle collection:

and she's back!

2007-05-18T15:26:00.000-07:00

Man, I'm glad I put that disclaimer by my "promise." Hahhaa. Sorry I'm so lame.

Let's see, a good story.

I have adjusted. I have taken a break from noticing all the little things so I can obtain a big-picture view. I like the place much better that way, right now. There's such a thing as becoming too nitpicky of a thinker ... for me, that leads to self-absorption, and that makes for less happiness:)

More later. I'm going to a ballet tonight!

Oh, by the way. It was my birthday between now and when I posted last. This led to me bringing home flowers (mostly daisies ... mm, my favorite - my parents ordered them for me because it's - gasp - my first birthday away from home) today, so they don't die over the weekend in the office. They're nested happily in a glass bottle on a shelf in my room. (I collect glass bottles. Drink bottles. From non-alcoholic beverages.)

Mmmm. Daisies. Mmmm.

Beautiful lyrics of the day -- "Bridges and Balloons," by Joanna Newsom. (Sorry, Uffish - "Bridges and Balloons," not "Cassiopeia" like I said today.)

"I can recall our caravel - a little wicker beetle shell with four fine maste and lateen sails
Its bearings on Cair Paravel."

"Are you going to Narnia, [Olympus]? Or, daughter of Eve, are you already there?"-Castle in the Sky

Tuesday (sorry, chronologically out-of-order)

2007-05-09T09:09:00.000-07:00

Field Below
-regina spektor-

I wish I'd see a field below
i wish I'd hear a rooster crow
But there are none who live downtown
And so the day starts out so slow
Again the sun was never called
And darkness spreads over the snow
Like ancient bruises
I'm awake and feel the ache
But I wish I'd see a field below
I wish I'd see a field below

I wish I'd see your face below
I wish I'd hear you whispering low
But you don't live downtown no more
And everything must come and go

Again the sun was never called
And darkness spreads over the snow
Like ancient bruises
I'm awake and feel the ache
I'm awake and feel the ache
But I wish I'd see a field below
But I wish I'd see a field below
I'm awake and feel the ache
But I wish I'd see a field below
I'm awake and feel the ache
But I wish I'd see a field below
I wish I'd see a field below
I wish I'd see a field below

--

Yesterday (Tuesday), this was how I was feeling. For instance, it affected me way more than I thought it would to see a big painting of the Nauvoo Temple on its peaceful hill, surrounded by grass and a little town and a big river.

Later, I walked by a pretzel stand. It smelled like a campfire, which for a split-second I thought would make me long for a good, big campground.

It didn't. I remembered that I love a good, big campground, but that I'm here right now, and I won't be able to get this back as easily as a good, big campground.

Things I love here include:

subways
opportunities
bookstores
libraries
walking
(jay)walking (way worse than Provo)
finding my own way
lamb gyros
other food
hearing more languages
seeing missionaries a lot, randomly
the temple
my job
the history
landmarks
high places with a good view
dollar store cereal
good photo-ops

--

2007-05-09T08:10:00.000-07:00

I am excellent at loving and embracing new things, for about a week. Then, I get bored of being excited and long for the familiar.

I vote let's quit that and be like krebscout's mom, always looking forward.

I already feel like it's almost time to leave, so it's hard to want to try and settle in. Mom says six weeks is a long time to feel that way. I agree. I want to go out tonight, and take life "by the horns," as the expression goes, and disregard any uncomfortability. It always takes awhile of being uncomfortable before you settle in -- call it dues. My life in Provo was full of awkward moments inside of me at first, as I tried to learn everyone's inside jokes and work my way into the crowd, which I would later realize to be ridiculously accepting and nothing to worry about. Still, having to feel a little weird sometimes is okay. As I was told yesterday:

"I understand transitions -- when I went from [former career] to [current career] it just about killed me... But such experiences stretch us and make us better as we receive them meekly."

Here's to meekly. Time for some crazy fun.

monday

2007-05-09T07:12:00.001-07:00

It will be nice not having to be someone's director straight off. I like being able to direct things, but it will be much nicer to take the backseat for a few years and just learn from people's already-quality institutions as I get into my field.

sunday

2007-05-09T07:09:00.000-07:00

My second cousin is in my stake:)

saturday

2007-05-07T06:12:00.000-07:00

I was in a group with a married girl, on our exhausting free-gelato day on Saturday, and as we were five or ten minutes away from Point A (on our way to Point B, after that, which is about four blocks south and six blocks east of Point A), her husband called to say he was leaving Provo for St. George.

We arrived at Point B. A few minutes later, the girl's husband called to say he'd arrived in St. George.

::shrugs:: We got library cards, free gelato, street vendor food, tablecloths, and dollar store cereal.

yeah, I know

2007-05-05T19:32:00.000-07:00

I "promised." Not "I promised."

I'll catch up. Tomorrow. Let's just say that today was ridiculously lots of walking, but that I saw lots of fun things. Hooray for free samples of gelato, by the way.

r.a.d.

2007-05-05T18:57:00.000-07:00

From the window of the plane on the way over:

Tonight I was telling Uffish about this picture, and she said, "YOU asked that question!" I didn't! But I did take these sweet photos.

Awe. Some. I've never seen that before, and I thought sunshine would be pleased to have them. (I can e-mail you high-res copies if you want them and this isn't good enough.)

Uh, sorry to everyone who's confused. You should probably read the Board on Monday.

cost-conscious Olympus adds up her day

2007-05-03T21:53:00.000-07:00

boston cream pie i bought that i didn't really want = $2
dinner i ate (leftovers) = cents on the dollar (all I paid for was the bread and honey I had with it)
hot dog I didn't buy=$2
movie night=free

sleeping in a bed with a fitted sheet=priceless.

yesterday

2007-05-03T06:05:00.000-07:00

I didn't like this place too well yesterday, so I didn't care enough to think about my day. (I think a lot of it had to do with my level of tiredness.) I didn't even go salsa tonight, like I was going to. Instead I started getting ready for bed at 9, talked on the phone awhile and was asleep by 11.

I walked home from work yesterday, looking at the people, the birds, the cars and the buildings thinking, "OK, I'm over this city. I'm done being excited and looking at all the new things, and I'm ready for a good old-fashioned something-I-know. Let's have a movie night.

So we're having a movie night:) Tonight. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. There are a lot of people here who haven't seen it - it wasn't even my idea, they just knew I had it edited and someone suggested. I am only too happy to provide:).

K, I'll try to post for real today, too.

existential thought of the day

2007-05-01T21:34:00.000-07:00

There's no such thing as larger than life. Everything that we could ever see, observe or experience is part of life, and no one is exempt. Including the straight-faced woman on the train, who isn't a straight-faced woman on a train at all, but a mother wondering if her daughter got the rest of the kids home okay tonight, and thinking about how she forgot to buy the cake for her son's birthday in two days, and how she'll have to work that into her schedule tomorrow. Oh, and here's her stop. Excuse me, sir.

A city isn't a city, per se. It's a group of individuals, just like me. Paris isn't the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame. It's where he lives; where she works; where that man's business just failed; where that couple just got married; where that kid just got out of school.

new things

2007-04-30T22:29:00.000-07:00

I am living in an unnamed big city for the next little while, doing an internship. It's pretty cool. This city will hereafter be known as Ogacihc.

This will be, as my blog title/subtitle indicate, a blog of snapshots - not a comprehensive experience-listing. I "promise" at least one per day.

Today I saw a really great sign, made by a man on the street. Talk about honest. He wasn't asking for money, food, a ride or a job. Way to tell it like it is, little man.

(I didn't give him one.)

oops

2007-04-23T21:48:00.000-07:00

I have all these rules for myself concerning spitting. I only allow myself to spit in two environments besides the sink and the shower: the ocean, and while exercising outside in a fair amount of solitude. I have an unusual need to spit, I think - one of my current best friends didn't like me at first because I cleared my throat too much, and people can tell where both my dad and I are in a room just by listening for that throat-clearing. In any case, I have rules. One rule in particular.

I don't do it anywhere in proximity to BYU campus, because even if I weren't a BYU student, people would assume I was, and we're technically supposed to be an ambassadors of this religion and all that. Spitting probably isn't a great way to do that, so I don't. Even if there's no one around - how many times have you seen something against social norms because someone thought no one was watching? These apartment complexes have windows, you know.

Really, I usually don't do it in public at all, although I'm a little less stringent outside of Provo or in an environment where I'm conspicuously LDS. My grandpa always used to spit out the window in the car, and we never thought any less of him. Still, I guess I'm a girl. An unmarried one at that (no comments). Also, I'm cool when I'm in the ocean, because everybody spits in the ocean. I'm also cool when I'm exercising in a somewhat remote area, because a) sometimes it's too uncomfortable not to, and b) way less weird, I've seen that lots of times.

So why on earth did I just spit into the grass next to a three-way stop right next to campus, with at least two sets of headlights staring me down?? Dang me and my rules. Sheesh. It was going so well.

Dear Grandpa ...

2007-04-19T17:53:00.000-07:00

Dear Gpa,

Today I had a chance to talk for a long time with your younger brother. He took me to dinner and it was great to just toss him question after question.

We talked about Dutch, and he explained to me some of the pronunciation rules and how with a few little tricks you could pronounce most names easily. He said Dutch just uses a lot of extra letters, but they're fairly standard and once you know where they go, it's not much harder than English. (For instance, Peter is spelled Pieter and pronounced the same way - not "pee-AY-ter" like it could look.) I told him the Dutch tonguetwister you taught us (Acht und acht kleine cocklechies ... sp?! ... "eighty-eight little stoves") - he laughed as soon as I started to say it and said that it was the phrase to say if you wanted a sore throat(because of all the gutterals). :) Since we were eating pie at that point, I told him about the other phrase you taught us, too, from your mission (in a Native American language) - "tadakuase" (tuh-DAHK-wah-say) - which means "more pie." (This is one of the most useful phrases I could ever think of, personally. Good choice of which to teach us.)

I love to listen to the Dutch names with someone who knows how to pronounce them. I've been thinking of naming one of my daughters Maaikje (pronounced "micah"). I feel like I can get away with that because there's a lady in the home ward named Maaike (no 'j'). Everyone pronounces it "mickey," for some reason, but she told me once how it's actually said and I fell in love with it. Maybe I'll leave the 'j' out, just to go easy on her grade school teachers, but I really love it in. It's more authentic that way, and it's not like she wouldn't really be Dutch. Hmm. I guess my husband will balance me out on whether this is cruel to do to an American child (even a Dutch-American one). I don't have to decide until then, anyway. Who knows. Maybe I'll have all boys and have to give that name to a pet or a plant.

He told me lots of stories, and some were about you. (He said I was making him think about things he hadn't thought about in years:D that was kinda fun. I really did ask lots of questions.) Speaking of your mission, he told me about you and your three best friends, and how you all wanted to go to Holland so you could serve together, and you all requested it. Hence, the first guy to get his call did go to Holland - and you went to the Eastern States, one went to Argentina, and one went to Australia. You couldn't have gotten farther away from each other:)

He told me about the Harley you used to drive, and how you'd take all the kids around the neighborhood on it. (I felt this the proper time to show him the exhaust pipe burn I got last week.) He said one day you really gunned it, so you could pop a wheelie, and it scared you so much you sold it the next day and bought a rumble seat car, instead. Awesome:) I wanted to show you my burn, too, but this is the best I can do - maybe you saw it, anyway. It's healing nicely, but there will probably be a scar. Even though I did the best I could think of to do for it - I ran it under cold water for twenty minutes, less than two minutes after I got the burn. I didn't have any burn cream, though, and I didn't think to use aloe vera until later. Oh, well.

He told me about how all four of you boys ended up not having to go to dangerous military places you should have gone. You were a helicopter mechanic, which I knew, but what I either didn't know or had forgotten was that the reason they didn't ship you out to Korea was that you were so good at what you did they made you a helicopter mechanic teacher instead, in the States, for all of your active service time. He was a clerk for a colonel and should have come home from his mission and gone into the service right then - they would have shipped him to Vietnam. Instead, he'd ended up finishing most of his two years of active service before his mission, which put him safely in clerk service in Korea as opposed to combat in Vietnam. I wonder if he was ever disappointed that he didn't fight. I know everyone around soldiers like that is happy that they stay out of harm's way, but I know sometimes the soldier himself has mixed feelings. I wonder what he thought of it all.

He was an elementary school teacher. He has, like, five minors - it took him eleven years to do his bachelor's for two reasons - he changed his major a million times, and he kept taking time off to work. (Although, during his last semester of coursework, he also worked 40 hours/week for the post office in Salt Lake - he said it about killed him!) I asked him what were his favorite type of students - the quiet ones, the ones who understood things easily, the ones who had to work hard to understand, etc. He said all of the above. His eyes were just happy when he talked about it - that was special to see. He still keeps in touch with some of his former students. That was fun:) I asked him to tell me about some of them and he mostly told me about the ones he still sees - he seemed to not be able to choose one or two to tell me about. But then, you probably know most of this! I didn't, though, so you get to hear it, too.

He talked about you so well. He said you were always there for people, and that you always went out of your way to be there, too. He said that besides his parents, you were the only one of his family who attended his BYU graduation. This might not have seemed so big had he not mentioned the fact that you (and Grandma? I can't remember) flew out from Virginia to be there! He said you were really a great man. I did already know that.

Anyway, Grandpa, thanks for hanging out with us tonight. It was much-needed and I learned lots of good things. We have a cool family. I miss you, I love you and I hope I'm still making you proud.

Love, Olympus

commemoration

2007-04-19T10:12:00.000-07:00

There's a lot of that today.

Today's the 12-year anniversary of the Oklahoma City Bombing, and 14 years since Waco (which Timothy McVeigh claimed to be some of the inspiration for the OKC Bombing). Also, tomorrow it will have been eight years since Columbine. (A nod toward Steve.)

Not to mention the VA Tech shooting a couple days ago. Everyone is supposed to wear red for that today, and some students are trying to get a candlelight vigil organized for tomorrow (Friday) night at 8 p.m., by the flagpole outside the ASB.

In happier news (from Slate):

The Court's First Time
By Daniel Politi
Posted Thursday, April 19, 2007, at 5:59 AM ET

Everybody leads with yesterday's Supreme Court decision that upheld the federal Partial-Birth Abortion Ban Act passed by Congress in 2003. The 5-4 vote marked the first time the court has upheld a ban on a specific abortion procedure. It was also the first time an abortion law was upheld that did not include an exception for a pregnant woman's health, although it does allow the procedure to save her life. Justice Anthony Kennedy wrote the opinion for the majority and said Congress has the right "to show its profound respect for the life within the woman." Seven years ago, the court struck down a similar Nebraska law with a 5-4 vote, in which Justice Sandra Day O'Connor sided with the majority. This time around, her replacement, Justice Samuel Alito, voted to uphold the ban.

The New York Times notes up high that the decision means doctors who perform the banned procedure could face "criminal prosecution, fines, and up to two years in prison." USA Today makes clear "the decision is unlikely to reduce abortions." That's because the abortion method that was banned, which involves partly delivering the fetus, is not the only way to perform a late-term abortion. But, as the Los Angeles Times notes in the second sentence, the real significance is that the "decision clears the way for states to pass new laws designed to discourage women from having abortions." The Washington Post quotes the president of the Christian Coalition of America predicting, "It is just a matter of time before the infamous Roe v. Wade ... will also be struck down by the court." The Wall Street Journal notes that some see the decision as the first step "in chipping away at the landmark 1973 decision rather than attacking it head on," a strategy Alito proposed while he was an aide to Ronald Reagan.

--

We have a lot to remember and a lot to be thankful for today, I think.

Stills by Olympus

Captain Comic

because I heart Chilly

best decision I've made in awhile

this is why we love my brother

I think everyone should buy these.

RELATIVELY LONG-TERM BOARD WRITER FINALLY CUTS THE APRON STRINGS

hahahhahaahahha

I don't live in Utah anymore.

bio

Obedience: A Mixed Metaphor

cycling through

Hot Dogs in the Context of Your Mother

hey.

a wave hit it

holy amazing

erm

"Hanging Out" with CPM

Hhhhhola, como EH-STUH??

Risk

one to one

named the baby.

the ticket lottery ... after years of trying, I finally won!

tags

interesting

________ Is Not the Answer

the marketing of the future

i saw the sign

"Do you ever blog anymore?" --flippin

curse you, Dragon Lady!

when I was your age ...

I know I post a lot about the weather.

the long walk

naturally

and other mind-numbing activities

another story

long-ago post I never published

100th post and list of firsts

say what you mean and mean what you say

chewing the fat about the weather

signs that I am in the right field

on investments and other types of risk

recalling back

a Christmas moment

who's there?

my kid could paint that

social networking WINS.

remember those magnets?

reality (but not on TV)

They Might Be Sins

you know you need a job when...

when dreams come true

another story

a little too early, a little too late

art to communicate

from the weather channel tonight

a moment of complaint

priorities

a sunday drive

a case of mistaken identity (zero calories)

there will be snacks, there will

live in the Present

internationalism

much to say

best of

an unsolicited blogpost; a.k.a., a PSA

I believe!

just an announcement

the State of the Union

mmm?

happy fourth of july

fireworks

my roommate lived kosher for a month, once

Russian national interest (which, incidentally, I know nothing about)

welcome to another round of Jazz with Olympus

BBC headline today

Player 2 has entered the game

modernizing

your movie

shut UP.