I'm still alive, I swear. It turns out that the wireless router magically dissappeared (got stolen) and so there is no high speed internet access for those of us not in upper upper level management at camp. I had about five billion things I wanted to blog about, but I really have a couple of minutes before I have to go. A far, far better post will follow on Saturday!
In the mean time, I'm feeling really really old. My bones just don't move like they used to, and a 16 year old called me "sir". I'm only 18... sir is my father. But I've got this really cool costume that makes me look like an 18th century naval officer, which is pretty much just the coolest thing ever. Or at least, a pretty cool thing. I'll take pictures and put them my facebook when I get a chance. In other news, I updated my address on my facebook, if any of you wanted to send baked goods or anything.
And my braces are off. I wonder how that will affect my kissing?
-Stephen
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Reluctant Farewell
Anybody that reads my blog with a degree of regularity knows that I'm leaving soon. I'll probably only really be able to use the internet on weekends unless it's super important, because I will have lots of other things on my mind at almost every other time and the internet access is a good mile away from my cabin. What this means is that unless I update tonight, or early tomorrow morning, I probably won't update until Saturday, and then probably only once a week from that point.
I do, though, have cellphone reception! So that means that any time after 9:00 PM Pacific time, you can call me and I'll probably answer. Or you can call at any time during the day and leave a message. I absolutely love having messages on my phone. It makes me feel loved.
So, anyway, if we chat before I go, then I'll say my farewell then, but otherwise consider this to be me giving you a hug and saying Godbwye. I hope that it's all well with you until we meet again. And the next time we talk, I hope that you have had lots of wonderful adventures to tell me about. Heaven knows I'll have lots of good stories for you. Anyway, until the next time. Godbwye.
I do, though, have cellphone reception! So that means that any time after 9:00 PM Pacific time, you can call me and I'll probably answer. Or you can call at any time during the day and leave a message. I absolutely love having messages on my phone. It makes me feel loved.
So, anyway, if we chat before I go, then I'll say my farewell then, but otherwise consider this to be me giving you a hug and saying Godbwye. I hope that it's all well with you until we meet again. And the next time we talk, I hope that you have had lots of wonderful adventures to tell me about. Heaven knows I'll have lots of good stories for you. Anyway, until the next time. Godbwye.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
On Curiosity
I don't know about you, oh wonderful people who read my blog, but I personally have a big problem with curiosity. You see, I find it rather difficult to control this particular aspect of my life. If there is information out there, I tend to want it. Even if it's not something I really care about that much, there's very little that you could tell me about anything that I wouldn't be at least somewhat interested in hearing.
Regrettably, that's the healthy side of my curiosity. There's also a dangerous side, a side that becomes a monster uncontrollable. This side only rears itself when there's something that I really really want to know. I've been known to completely neglect just about anything and everything to satisfy my curiosity about certain subjects. That includes neglecting my own personal well being. Tonight, I had such an experience.
I was talking to a couple people online, but the conversation lulled. During lulls in conversation, I tend to start thinking about mostly unrelated topics like, "what is lint actually made of?" and "do they ever come up with really awesome plaids by complete accident or is there like a mathematical formula for it?" Usually, it's a harmless question that I ask, like one of those, and a brief stint on Wikipedia will provide me with the information I need. Ocassionally though, I've asked slightly more dangerous questions. We needn't get into some of them and the (usually horrid) adventures they've led me on, but I would like to talk about the one tonight.
The question that I posed was, "so what exactly happens during an endowment ceremony." I know you're all cringing. I should have cringed at the very thought of it. I knew it was stupid to look, but I did it anyway. I justified, "nobody has ever specifically forbidden it to me." But I still knew I shouldn't do it... I looked. Just a peek. I looked up "Mormon Endowment" on google, and I picked a response off of the first page. It was the exact text of the Endowment Ceremony, transcribed from a tape recording. This was the first red flag.
I read a little bit. Right down to the part where the First Presidency says that everything in the Endowment is sacred and that there is a solemn obligation not discuss it outside of the temple. This was the second red flag. Note that one red flag is enough, and two red flags is clear and convincing evidence that I should not be there. Even so, I continued further. I read days 1-5 of the film completely. All the while, I kept thinking to myself, "don't do it, Stephen! Don't read on! Tell somebody what you're doing! They'll tell you to stop, and you'll stop! Just STOP!" I started reading day number six, checking back to google chat regularly, nay feverishly, hoping that somebody would say something, or that I would tell somebody, and then it would all be over.
And then I came to a realization. I didn't need them to tell me to stop. I softly and clearly uttered the word "stop," even though I didn't really intend to say it at all. And then I stopped. And I closed the tab that it was in, and I went off to Google chat to say goodnight. Next thing I knew, I was here writing this blog about curiosity.
Now, my life experiences aren't any good to anybody, including myself, if there isn't some reflection and analysis. The good news is, I didn't learn anything new. Other than a little bit of what the ceremony sounds like in the very very very beginning. I assume it was only the very very very beginning because that page was ridiculously long and I had only moved a very little bit on the side bar. The information presented though was nothing new to me. The other good news is that I stopped. I knew that what I was doing was wrong, and I stopped. I'm rather proud of myself for that.
The bad news is, I knew that something was wrong and I didn't stop immediately. I knew that it was wrong and I just kind of kept going. Somehow, that strikes as remarkably unwise. I ignored clear and convincing evidence that what I was doing was a bad idea. And yet, somehow, I did it anyway. I stopped, and that's good, but I started, and that's bad.
So, what I have to say about curiosity is that although we are all faced with things about which we are curious. We have got to be wise enough to know when to resist it, and we've got to be strong enough to actually resist it when we know we should. I still don't know what happens in the rest of the film, and I still don't know what happens after the film, but you know what? I'm OK with that. Someday, I'll find out, and until then, I don't need to peek. I don't want to peek. It is hubris for any man to reveal what God has ordained mystery, and it is hubris for any man, including me, to think that he need not wait and hear mystery in the proper time, at the proper place.
-Stephen
P.S.
I'm sorry to those that I told I was going to bed. I didn't mean to lie to you, and in fact I did intend to go to bed. I hope that you can forgive me for that. Really, truly, I'm sorry.
Regrettably, that's the healthy side of my curiosity. There's also a dangerous side, a side that becomes a monster uncontrollable. This side only rears itself when there's something that I really really want to know. I've been known to completely neglect just about anything and everything to satisfy my curiosity about certain subjects. That includes neglecting my own personal well being. Tonight, I had such an experience.
I was talking to a couple people online, but the conversation lulled. During lulls in conversation, I tend to start thinking about mostly unrelated topics like, "what is lint actually made of?" and "do they ever come up with really awesome plaids by complete accident or is there like a mathematical formula for it?" Usually, it's a harmless question that I ask, like one of those, and a brief stint on Wikipedia will provide me with the information I need. Ocassionally though, I've asked slightly more dangerous questions. We needn't get into some of them and the (usually horrid) adventures they've led me on, but I would like to talk about the one tonight.
The question that I posed was, "so what exactly happens during an endowment ceremony." I know you're all cringing. I should have cringed at the very thought of it. I knew it was stupid to look, but I did it anyway. I justified, "nobody has ever specifically forbidden it to me." But I still knew I shouldn't do it... I looked. Just a peek. I looked up "Mormon Endowment" on google, and I picked a response off of the first page. It was the exact text of the Endowment Ceremony, transcribed from a tape recording. This was the first red flag.
I read a little bit. Right down to the part where the First Presidency says that everything in the Endowment is sacred and that there is a solemn obligation not discuss it outside of the temple. This was the second red flag. Note that one red flag is enough, and two red flags is clear and convincing evidence that I should not be there. Even so, I continued further. I read days 1-5 of the film completely. All the while, I kept thinking to myself, "don't do it, Stephen! Don't read on! Tell somebody what you're doing! They'll tell you to stop, and you'll stop! Just STOP!" I started reading day number six, checking back to google chat regularly, nay feverishly, hoping that somebody would say something, or that I would tell somebody, and then it would all be over.
And then I came to a realization. I didn't need them to tell me to stop. I softly and clearly uttered the word "stop," even though I didn't really intend to say it at all. And then I stopped. And I closed the tab that it was in, and I went off to Google chat to say goodnight. Next thing I knew, I was here writing this blog about curiosity.
Now, my life experiences aren't any good to anybody, including myself, if there isn't some reflection and analysis. The good news is, I didn't learn anything new. Other than a little bit of what the ceremony sounds like in the very very very beginning. I assume it was only the very very very beginning because that page was ridiculously long and I had only moved a very little bit on the side bar. The information presented though was nothing new to me. The other good news is that I stopped. I knew that what I was doing was wrong, and I stopped. I'm rather proud of myself for that.
The bad news is, I knew that something was wrong and I didn't stop immediately. I knew that it was wrong and I just kind of kept going. Somehow, that strikes as remarkably unwise. I ignored clear and convincing evidence that what I was doing was a bad idea. And yet, somehow, I did it anyway. I stopped, and that's good, but I started, and that's bad.
So, what I have to say about curiosity is that although we are all faced with things about which we are curious. We have got to be wise enough to know when to resist it, and we've got to be strong enough to actually resist it when we know we should. I still don't know what happens in the rest of the film, and I still don't know what happens after the film, but you know what? I'm OK with that. Someday, I'll find out, and until then, I don't need to peek. I don't want to peek. It is hubris for any man to reveal what God has ordained mystery, and it is hubris for any man, including me, to think that he need not wait and hear mystery in the proper time, at the proper place.
-Stephen
P.S.
I'm sorry to those that I told I was going to bed. I didn't mean to lie to you, and in fact I did intend to go to bed. I hope that you can forgive me for that. Really, truly, I'm sorry.
Ouch.
I got a fun new addition to my braces yesterday. They seal my mouth closed almost completely. When they gave me painkillers, I couldn't even fit them into my mouth I could open it so little; I had to force them through a tight fit using my fingers. The moral of the story? My jaw hurts. It hurts quite a bit actually. But come next Thursday, my braces will be gone forever. And ever and ever and ever. Until the end of time.
I also got a haircut, and found out that my Beautician is only going to be available to cut my hair while I'm still at camp. That means I'll need to ask for an evening off, because the very thought of letting anybody else cut my hair kind of makes me cringe. It might just be one of my gayest qualities.
In other news, I visited the beach with some friends, and thought I'd try to do some tanning while I was there. The sun, however, just laughed at my pasty German skin and said, "Burn, Stephen, burn." Regrettably, I couldn't compete with that kind of power, and I burst into flames! Well, that might be a slight dramatization, but you get the idea. My skin now has a lovely cherry tint to it in several places. Fortunately for me though, I recover from sunburns relatively quickly, and this time tomorrow I'll probably be mostly healed, and my skin will have a kind of tangerine rather than cherry tint. In the meantime, I'm avoiding the sun just a bit.
I hope that finals are going well for everybody. I've been working on a few posts about various issues, and I'll try to get at least one of them published before I leave for camp. In the meantime, I hope all's well!
I also got a haircut, and found out that my Beautician is only going to be available to cut my hair while I'm still at camp. That means I'll need to ask for an evening off, because the very thought of letting anybody else cut my hair kind of makes me cringe. It might just be one of my gayest qualities.
In other news, I visited the beach with some friends, and thought I'd try to do some tanning while I was there. The sun, however, just laughed at my pasty German skin and said, "Burn, Stephen, burn." Regrettably, I couldn't compete with that kind of power, and I burst into flames! Well, that might be a slight dramatization, but you get the idea. My skin now has a lovely cherry tint to it in several places. Fortunately for me though, I recover from sunburns relatively quickly, and this time tomorrow I'll probably be mostly healed, and my skin will have a kind of tangerine rather than cherry tint. In the meantime, I'm avoiding the sun just a bit.
I hope that finals are going well for everybody. I've been working on a few posts about various issues, and I'll try to get at least one of them published before I leave for camp. In the meantime, I hope all's well!
Sunday, June 17, 2007
And Then Stephen Was An Elder
The church is a rather incredible organization, I daresay. Once a wheel starts turning, it eventually follows to completion every single time, no matter how desperate the situation looks. I met with my bishop a couple of weeks ago; it was the usual: "how's your testimony, what's going on in your life, are you ready to become an elder?" series of a conversation. The difference is that this time I told him "yes, I am." Nothing happened for a while, and then last night I got a call from the Stake executive secretary... or whatever his title is. This morning, I met with the stake president. When he found out that I was leaving town for eight weeks, he said, "let me see if I can do something." He was on the phone like lightening, and in about five minutes he arranged for a stake high councilman to be at my ward to present me, and said that they would do a ratification next Sunday with the rest of the stake.
And then I went to church. And everybody sustained me. And nobody opposed. And then I helped out in the nursery during Sunday School. And then Elders Quorum time came. And the bishop was there, and my parents were there, and the councilman was there, and everybody was there. It was exciting and electrifying. I filled my circle with the missionaries and the EQP, in addition to the aforementioned persons. And then I felt something I had never felt before. Usually when I feel the spirit, it's a steady flow over a span of time with a build up and down. This time it was different. It was more like a surge, no build up, no wear down, just an instant surge, followed by another instant surge, and another. I think I counted seven in all. And then I was an elder.
The bishop gave me a cool book with instructions on how to do things like consecrate oil, give blessings of comfort, and dedicate graves. Now I just need to get one of those oil-thingies for my key chain and I'll really be all set. Seriously though, I'm just feeling really charged right now, and I hope that this step forward I've taken is going to increase my understanding, and bring me that much closer to the mind and spirit of God. Every small step in its own proper order. Every larger step the same way. True understanding lies at the end, but in the mean time, I am infinitely grateful that I am in the position I am in, where I can now be that much more of a blessing in the lives of those around me and those that are important to me.
-Stephen
And then I went to church. And everybody sustained me. And nobody opposed. And then I helped out in the nursery during Sunday School. And then Elders Quorum time came. And the bishop was there, and my parents were there, and the councilman was there, and everybody was there. It was exciting and electrifying. I filled my circle with the missionaries and the EQP, in addition to the aforementioned persons. And then I felt something I had never felt before. Usually when I feel the spirit, it's a steady flow over a span of time with a build up and down. This time it was different. It was more like a surge, no build up, no wear down, just an instant surge, followed by another instant surge, and another. I think I counted seven in all. And then I was an elder.
The bishop gave me a cool book with instructions on how to do things like consecrate oil, give blessings of comfort, and dedicate graves. Now I just need to get one of those oil-thingies for my key chain and I'll really be all set. Seriously though, I'm just feeling really charged right now, and I hope that this step forward I've taken is going to increase my understanding, and bring me that much closer to the mind and spirit of God. Every small step in its own proper order. Every larger step the same way. True understanding lies at the end, but in the mean time, I am infinitely grateful that I am in the position I am in, where I can now be that much more of a blessing in the lives of those around me and those that are important to me.
-Stephen
Saturday, June 16, 2007
National Camp School
I'm back! I'm absolutely completely back! Let me just say that Camp Fife was one of the smallest, dirtiest camps I've ever been to. But even so, I had a wonderful time. I met a few really cool people, including the director of LDS relations for the Boy Scouts of America. There were just a few good lines that I heard over the week that are worth repeating.
First, the director of LDS relations was giving a speech which included, "How do we touch the scouts? Like this. {Puts arm around his son} This is how we touch the scouts. One at a time."
Later in the week, we were talking about braiding with commissioners and one of them said, "I braid my granddaughter's hair, and I French braid." I'm not 100% sure who responded, but he said "I can French too!"
Finally, an instructor was talking about all the different kinds of animals that he had eaten; he then says, completely unaware of what he's saying, "I've never eaten beaver." My friend and I looked at eachother and struggled to hold back laughter. He had to walk away because he couldn't stop himself. It was priceless.
Those were the only really really good ones, although when you get a bunch of guys together for much longer than a day with no restrictions, lots of good lines come about. Those were just the most memorable. Anyway, the question's been posed to me a few times since I got back, "what exactly do you guys do at camp school?" The answer? I'm not exactly sure what we did.
I mean, really, I don't know why I had to go there. It was fun, and I had a good time, but it was also kind of a waste of time. I mean, I just kind of brushed up on my knots and my lashings and my first aid and all those other campcrafty things. And we went camping a bit. It's not that it wasn't a blast, I'm just not sure how it's going to make me a better director.
In other news, I leave on Thursday to go to camp for real, and that'll be eight weeks. I do have high-speed internet in the dining hall and cell service in some parts of camp though, so it's not like it'll be goodbye for a long time. I'll still be around, just super distracted. I should have tons of good stories come up though! In the meantime, I'm headed to the gym. I mean to try to put on some weight. In a good way, that is. I'd like to bring the rest of my body up to par with my triceps. :p
-Stephen
First, the director of LDS relations was giving a speech which included, "How do we touch the scouts? Like this. {Puts arm around his son} This is how we touch the scouts. One at a time."
Later in the week, we were talking about braiding with commissioners and one of them said, "I braid my granddaughter's hair, and I French braid." I'm not 100% sure who responded, but he said "I can French too!"
Finally, an instructor was talking about all the different kinds of animals that he had eaten; he then says, completely unaware of what he's saying, "I've never eaten beaver." My friend and I looked at eachother and struggled to hold back laughter. He had to walk away because he couldn't stop himself. It was priceless.
Those were the only really really good ones, although when you get a bunch of guys together for much longer than a day with no restrictions, lots of good lines come about. Those were just the most memorable. Anyway, the question's been posed to me a few times since I got back, "what exactly do you guys do at camp school?" The answer? I'm not exactly sure what we did.
I mean, really, I don't know why I had to go there. It was fun, and I had a good time, but it was also kind of a waste of time. I mean, I just kind of brushed up on my knots and my lashings and my first aid and all those other campcrafty things. And we went camping a bit. It's not that it wasn't a blast, I'm just not sure how it's going to make me a better director.
In other news, I leave on Thursday to go to camp for real, and that'll be eight weeks. I do have high-speed internet in the dining hall and cell service in some parts of camp though, so it's not like it'll be goodbye for a long time. I'll still be around, just super distracted. I should have tons of good stories come up though! In the meantime, I'm headed to the gym. I mean to try to put on some weight. In a good way, that is. I'd like to bring the rest of my body up to par with my triceps. :p
-Stephen
Saturday, June 9, 2007
The Magic Hour
I tend to get most of my best ideas starting at about 2:30 in the morning. Coincidentally, 2:30 is also the time when my fingers stop typing exactly what my brain is thinking for no apparent reason, including adding extra characters, omitting characters, and typing things that have nothing to do with what I'm thinking. Not to mention I completely forget how to spell anything more complicated than... well, I just tried a few words which I promptly deleted and I couldn't spell any of them. You get the idea. Anyway, I have a few thoughts floating around right now, and I'm seeing things with an astounding and indescribable clarity. At least, I think I am. I'd like to talk a little bit about each of them.
I can't go back to where I used to be.
We've all done things in the past that we've learned from. Some of them were regrettable mistakes, but most fell in the realm of "learning experiences". Either way, I think that we all have an acute desire not to return to where we were when we had those experiences. I was once a naive child who knew nothing of the world. No more. I was once a rather promiscuous
guy. No more. I once had no idea how to bake. No more. I would encourage everybody to pick out some "no mores" to see the progress that they've made in their lives. Look at what you've become.
Make things right with the Lord.
I want to bear my testimony to you. I know that there are some of you out there who either think that I don't have a testimony or that it's obscenely weak. It may not be the biggest, the strongest, or the brightest of them all, but it is mine. At times in our lives, we are mocked by devils who tell us how we don't deserve God's love, how we don't deserve to become glorified. Usually, past events and current weaknesses will be brought up, as if to demonstrate to you how you deserve to die and exist only in the most tormented state. You need to stand up to them and say that you know you don't deserve all of the blessings you receive, that you know you don't deserve any kind of wonderful afterlife, and that you don't care. Because it doesn't matter. There is a kind and loving man who suffered and died and made satisfaction on your behalf, no matter how awful a something you've done. I'd like to bear my testimony that cleansing power of the atonement of Jesus Christ is all encompassing, limitless, and wonderful. If you have any sins, even minor small ones, that you have left unrepented I urge you as strongly as I can to make things right with the Lord. He loves you, and wants to help you as much as He can.
Leaving for a while
Unlike some of the people who have shut down their blogs or put them on haitus or whatnot, I'm only going to be gone for a week. I don't think I'll get cellphone service up there, but if I do I'll text some of you as soon as I can, if only to say Hi. Anyway, one week with no posts. If there isn't a post by late next Friday, then you can send all those e-mail asking if I'm alright and still alive and stuff. And I'll appreciate and read every single one of them, and respond to them to let you know that I'm fine and just far too tired to blog.
We need to talk.
One of the things that makes me most sad is when you start to make some good friends, and then they disappear. It's not really anybody's fault, they just both kind of somehow lose contact with each other. I don't want to lose contact with you, even if it is just over the summer. If you have my number and I don't text/call you by next Sunday, I'm really super sorry. You should text/call me and tell me how mad you are about it. Or how left out and sad you feel. I promise I'll make time for you. No matter what.
Got my raise.
I just wanted everybody to know that I got the raise that I needed to be able to work at camp this summer. It was more than a little bit tight, but I've made it through alright and now I'll be able to do what it is that I love to do. Oh, I do love camp. I'm really super excited. I'm on my pre-(name of camp) high. In about six weeks, I'll be ready to shoot the next boyscout I see, but for now I'm really really happy!
Beards and canes are in style.
For those of you who missed that, I'm making a comment as to what I believe my average reader to be. I think that my average reader is not, in fact, some soft cute boy with lips like heaven, but rather an old(er) married man. As such, I think I need a beard and a cane so that everybody will think I'm wise and full of wisdom or something. (Thanks for reading, by the way. Even if you are old and bearded and have a cane(I don't really think that you do) you're pretty dang cool.)
I can't go back to where I used to be.
We've all done things in the past that we've learned from. Some of them were regrettable mistakes, but most fell in the realm of "learning experiences". Either way, I think that we all have an acute desire not to return to where we were when we had those experiences. I was once a naive child who knew nothing of the world. No more. I was once a rather promiscuous
guy. No more. I once had no idea how to bake. No more. I would encourage everybody to pick out some "no mores" to see the progress that they've made in their lives. Look at what you've become.
Make things right with the Lord.
I want to bear my testimony to you. I know that there are some of you out there who either think that I don't have a testimony or that it's obscenely weak. It may not be the biggest, the strongest, or the brightest of them all, but it is mine. At times in our lives, we are mocked by devils who tell us how we don't deserve God's love, how we don't deserve to become glorified. Usually, past events and current weaknesses will be brought up, as if to demonstrate to you how you deserve to die and exist only in the most tormented state. You need to stand up to them and say that you know you don't deserve all of the blessings you receive, that you know you don't deserve any kind of wonderful afterlife, and that you don't care. Because it doesn't matter. There is a kind and loving man who suffered and died and made satisfaction on your behalf, no matter how awful a something you've done. I'd like to bear my testimony that cleansing power of the atonement of Jesus Christ is all encompassing, limitless, and wonderful. If you have any sins, even minor small ones, that you have left unrepented I urge you as strongly as I can to make things right with the Lord. He loves you, and wants to help you as much as He can.
Leaving for a while
Unlike some of the people who have shut down their blogs or put them on haitus or whatnot, I'm only going to be gone for a week. I don't think I'll get cellphone service up there, but if I do I'll text some of you as soon as I can, if only to say Hi. Anyway, one week with no posts. If there isn't a post by late next Friday, then you can send all those e-mail asking if I'm alright and still alive and stuff. And I'll appreciate and read every single one of them, and respond to them to let you know that I'm fine and just far too tired to blog.
We need to talk.
One of the things that makes me most sad is when you start to make some good friends, and then they disappear. It's not really anybody's fault, they just both kind of somehow lose contact with each other. I don't want to lose contact with you, even if it is just over the summer. If you have my number and I don't text/call you by next Sunday, I'm really super sorry. You should text/call me and tell me how mad you are about it. Or how left out and sad you feel. I promise I'll make time for you. No matter what.
Got my raise.
I just wanted everybody to know that I got the raise that I needed to be able to work at camp this summer. It was more than a little bit tight, but I've made it through alright and now I'll be able to do what it is that I love to do. Oh, I do love camp. I'm really super excited. I'm on my pre-(name of camp) high. In about six weeks, I'll be ready to shoot the next boyscout I see, but for now I'm really really happy!
Beards and canes are in style.
For those of you who missed that, I'm making a comment as to what I believe my average reader to be. I think that my average reader is not, in fact, some soft cute boy with lips like heaven, but rather an old(er) married man. As such, I think I need a beard and a cane so that everybody will think I'm wise and full of wisdom or something. (Thanks for reading, by the way. Even if you are old and bearded and have a cane(I don't really think that you do) you're pretty dang cool.)
Friday, June 8, 2007
Stephen and Brady's Excellent Seattle Adventure
So, for those of you who didn't know, because I don't think either of us mentioned it in a blog or anything, I went up to the Seattle area on Wednesday to return some stuff to Ikea. While I was there, a marvelous adventure took place starring two of the coolest characters of all time: Brady and Stephen!
Things went pretty well until I left Ikea about 15 minutes later than I would have liked to. And then I got lost trying to find the Seattle Center. You know the Space Needle was once the tallest building west of the Mississippi? Yeah, it isn't anymore. In fact, there are apartment complexes that are the same height or taller. That's to say nothing of the sky scrapers that dot the city. Fortunately though, I found it eventually, and the adventure began.
After a lunch at McDonald's, we went in to experience the Experience Music Project. It was pretty cool, but only cool enough to be fun for a couple of hours. It also included entry to the Sci-Fi Museum. That was kind of neat, but the truth is that as cool as they both were, we spent less than three hours between the two of them. We traveled then, via monorail, to the mall. The mall is a wonderful invention, I think. We managed to waste tons of time there like it was candy... or something. I'm not sure which was better though: Sitting on a beanbag called "the cuddler" at the beanbag shop, or watching Brady get all excited at the Japanese import store. Both were pretty cool.
On the Monorail back from the mall to the Seattle Center, where our cars were parked, an older lady heard us talking and joined us. Getting three arm chair theologians together can create all sorts of fun, but nothing too serious happened. As we were walking away from the monorail, she started talking about women's intuition, and how men have an intuition too. Brady said something like, "I think we're probably more in touch with it than most men." I felt bad about laughing, since she had no idea, but I laughed quite a bit. I thought she'd even picked up on it when she started talking about homosexuality immediately thereafter, but no... After some more laughing, we definitely came out to a complete stranger.
The drive back to his parents' place was entertaining too. I don't remember who called who, but we were super close to each other when it happened. In fact, there was only one car in between us, who moved while we talking about it. I followed him home the rest of the way from that point. We made a short detour to get some petrol, because my car was out. I only paid 3.089 USD/gal. Stoked is one thing, but I was positively thrilled about that one.
We made it back to his place and picked out a movie to watch. I'd never seen Liar Liar, and now I have. It was on a VHS. For those of you who aren't familiar with this ancient technology, it's a film based recording at a relatively low video quality. Some time before the DVD was developed, they made these black plastic cases that they filled with a film that had bazillions of tiny little pictures and sounds on it. The VHS player would read the film and communicate it to the television. Crazy, huh? Anyway, the movie was pretty cool.
Thereafter, we went down to his room and watched some funny videos. There were some movies from his work that were pretty snazzy, a series of "office linebacker" commercials, and Little Britain. Were we the only gays in that town? Well, I might have thought so, but the computer says no, so I guess not.
Somewhere around 2:00 (ish) we went to bed, and then somewhere around 10:30(ish) we got up the next morning. We went bowling, after pleasant things like showering and tooth-brushing and breakfasting and the like. The first ally we went to was closed. (./tear) but the second one was open. We rented the lane for an hour, and bowled four games. I won the first two, he won the second two, and thus was a rivalry born. I'll get you next time, Brady! (./evil laugh) We went out to eat, and had more interesting conversation. I mean, we'd been having interesting conversation pretty steadily since Wednesday, but even so, it was cool.
Finally, we went back to his place and didn't really do anything. Even so, the last little bit of our adventure was over too quickly, and I had to make my way back home. The return trip was pretty uneventful, although I5 at seven lanes in each direction is a pretty impressive site.
In other news, I leave for national camp school super super early tomorrow morning, so I might get a chance to talk to any of you until I get back from that. If that's the case, I wish you the very very very best of luck with everything that you're doing, and you can expect to hear a long, detailed blog about how camp school went when I get back.
-Stephen
Things went pretty well until I left Ikea about 15 minutes later than I would have liked to. And then I got lost trying to find the Seattle Center. You know the Space Needle was once the tallest building west of the Mississippi? Yeah, it isn't anymore. In fact, there are apartment complexes that are the same height or taller. That's to say nothing of the sky scrapers that dot the city. Fortunately though, I found it eventually, and the adventure began.
After a lunch at McDonald's, we went in to experience the Experience Music Project. It was pretty cool, but only cool enough to be fun for a couple of hours. It also included entry to the Sci-Fi Museum. That was kind of neat, but the truth is that as cool as they both were, we spent less than three hours between the two of them. We traveled then, via monorail, to the mall. The mall is a wonderful invention, I think. We managed to waste tons of time there like it was candy... or something. I'm not sure which was better though: Sitting on a beanbag called "the cuddler" at the beanbag shop, or watching Brady get all excited at the Japanese import store. Both were pretty cool.
On the Monorail back from the mall to the Seattle Center, where our cars were parked, an older lady heard us talking and joined us. Getting three arm chair theologians together can create all sorts of fun, but nothing too serious happened. As we were walking away from the monorail, she started talking about women's intuition, and how men have an intuition too. Brady said something like, "I think we're probably more in touch with it than most men." I felt bad about laughing, since she had no idea, but I laughed quite a bit. I thought she'd even picked up on it when she started talking about homosexuality immediately thereafter, but no... After some more laughing, we definitely came out to a complete stranger.
The drive back to his parents' place was entertaining too. I don't remember who called who, but we were super close to each other when it happened. In fact, there was only one car in between us, who moved while we talking about it. I followed him home the rest of the way from that point. We made a short detour to get some petrol, because my car was out. I only paid 3.089 USD/gal. Stoked is one thing, but I was positively thrilled about that one.
We made it back to his place and picked out a movie to watch. I'd never seen Liar Liar, and now I have. It was on a VHS. For those of you who aren't familiar with this ancient technology, it's a film based recording at a relatively low video quality. Some time before the DVD was developed, they made these black plastic cases that they filled with a film that had bazillions of tiny little pictures and sounds on it. The VHS player would read the film and communicate it to the television. Crazy, huh? Anyway, the movie was pretty cool.
Thereafter, we went down to his room and watched some funny videos. There were some movies from his work that were pretty snazzy, a series of "office linebacker" commercials, and Little Britain. Were we the only gays in that town? Well, I might have thought so, but the computer says no, so I guess not.
Somewhere around 2:00 (ish) we went to bed, and then somewhere around 10:30(ish) we got up the next morning. We went bowling, after pleasant things like showering and tooth-brushing and breakfasting and the like. The first ally we went to was closed. (./tear) but the second one was open. We rented the lane for an hour, and bowled four games. I won the first two, he won the second two, and thus was a rivalry born. I'll get you next time, Brady! (./evil laugh) We went out to eat, and had more interesting conversation. I mean, we'd been having interesting conversation pretty steadily since Wednesday, but even so, it was cool.
Finally, we went back to his place and didn't really do anything. Even so, the last little bit of our adventure was over too quickly, and I had to make my way back home. The return trip was pretty uneventful, although I5 at seven lanes in each direction is a pretty impressive site.
In other news, I leave for national camp school super super early tomorrow morning, so I might get a chance to talk to any of you until I get back from that. If that's the case, I wish you the very very very best of luck with everything that you're doing, and you can expect to hear a long, detailed blog about how camp school went when I get back.
-Stephen
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
A Better Understanding of God's Frustration
My beloved mother, in fact, all of my family left me today. They've gone camping in central Oregon and won't be back until late Friday. This is both good and bad for me, because it means I've got the house to myself. Good because there's nobody around to bother me. Bad because there's nobody around to chaperon me. It's a lot harder to have a cute boy over for a tongue wrestling tournament (come on, tell me that's not original! oh... wait...) when the chance of getting walked in on by your seven year old sister is about 87%. Even so, I think I'll be fine. Cute boys haven't exactly been beating down my door recently, so I've nothing (real) to worry about. None of this though, is the point of this post.
My mother asked to me to fill her role as Den Leader while she was gone. No problem. I can go to Big Bears meeting and help them through some crafts. I mean, seriously, I deal with kids all summer long. An hour on Tuesday night should be a cakewalk, right? Wrong.
The other Den Leader (I guess they were co-leaders or something) had planned to build tool-boxes at the meeting, and had brought wood and nails. The cheapest, crappiest nails I have ever seen were in that box. If you give kids aluminum nails, they will bend and break them before they get anywhere near the wood. She also had them bring their own hammers. An absolutely splendid idea. Except that one kid brought this tiny little ball peen hammer that was absolutely useless for driving nails.
I stopped counting how many kids I told, "hold the hammer like this" "swing the hammer like this" "come down at it straight and flat" "put some force behind it" etc... It didn't matter, they didn't listen. I've done more carpentry in the past half decade than most people have in the past three! And they're kids for crying out loud. Aren't they suppose to listen and respect or something? Anyway, I swallowed my frustration, brought them fresh nails (though from the same cheap box), reset their boards, and just kept on giving them fresh starts. Why couldn't I just do it for them? Because as a real boyscout, I couldn't do a requirement for a kid. Not to mention I think that every good man should know, or at least have known at some point in his life, how to swing a hammer properly. It's not like it's hard... If you don't know, I'd be more than happy to teach you. It only takes a minute and you'll be saying, "duh, I knew that, I just didn't think about it" as soon as we're done.
Anyway, I think that I have a slightly better appreciation of the way God must feel now. He wants us to learn and grow, and He wants us to do things on our own with only minimal help from Him. To this end, He has supplied us with infinite nails and self-healing wood which He tirelessly puts back in the right position for us to build. And sometimes He gets a little fed up and tries to remind us how to hold the hammer, how to swing it, how to do lots of good and important things. But He never does it for us. He promised us our agency, and He respects it so much that even though He could live our lives for us a thousand and twenty seven (or so) times better than we can, that He just won't do it. Agency, that greatest of gifts, must lead to such frustration that I can't imagine bearing it. But He doesn't get angry. Even when He's holding the nails for us and we hit His thumb with the hammer, He stays calm and loving. That is why I love Him. Not because He created this world for me to live on, or because He put me in a (pretty) good family, but because He loves me and respects my Agency.
-Stephen.
P.S.
Please don't assume I'm leaving the church or anything. This was a testimony building experience.
-Stephen
P.P.S.
I'm also going to talk to my bishop tonight. I don't know what about, he wanted to talk to me... There might be a second post today, depending on whether it's anything interesting or not.
-Stephen
My mother asked to me to fill her role as Den Leader while she was gone. No problem. I can go to Big Bears meeting and help them through some crafts. I mean, seriously, I deal with kids all summer long. An hour on Tuesday night should be a cakewalk, right? Wrong.
The other Den Leader (I guess they were co-leaders or something) had planned to build tool-boxes at the meeting, and had brought wood and nails. The cheapest, crappiest nails I have ever seen were in that box. If you give kids aluminum nails, they will bend and break them before they get anywhere near the wood. She also had them bring their own hammers. An absolutely splendid idea. Except that one kid brought this tiny little ball peen hammer that was absolutely useless for driving nails.
I stopped counting how many kids I told, "hold the hammer like this" "swing the hammer like this" "come down at it straight and flat" "put some force behind it" etc... It didn't matter, they didn't listen. I've done more carpentry in the past half decade than most people have in the past three! And they're kids for crying out loud. Aren't they suppose to listen and respect or something? Anyway, I swallowed my frustration, brought them fresh nails (though from the same cheap box), reset their boards, and just kept on giving them fresh starts. Why couldn't I just do it for them? Because as a real boyscout, I couldn't do a requirement for a kid. Not to mention I think that every good man should know, or at least have known at some point in his life, how to swing a hammer properly. It's not like it's hard... If you don't know, I'd be more than happy to teach you. It only takes a minute and you'll be saying, "duh, I knew that, I just didn't think about it" as soon as we're done.
Anyway, I think that I have a slightly better appreciation of the way God must feel now. He wants us to learn and grow, and He wants us to do things on our own with only minimal help from Him. To this end, He has supplied us with infinite nails and self-healing wood which He tirelessly puts back in the right position for us to build. And sometimes He gets a little fed up and tries to remind us how to hold the hammer, how to swing it, how to do lots of good and important things. But He never does it for us. He promised us our agency, and He respects it so much that even though He could live our lives for us a thousand and twenty seven (or so) times better than we can, that He just won't do it. Agency, that greatest of gifts, must lead to such frustration that I can't imagine bearing it. But He doesn't get angry. Even when He's holding the nails for us and we hit His thumb with the hammer, He stays calm and loving. That is why I love Him. Not because He created this world for me to live on, or because He put me in a (pretty) good family, but because He loves me and respects my Agency.
-Stephen.
P.S.
Please don't assume I'm leaving the church or anything. This was a testimony building experience.
-Stephen
P.P.S.
I'm also going to talk to my bishop tonight. I don't know what about, he wanted to talk to me... There might be a second post today, depending on whether it's anything interesting or not.
-Stephen
Sunday, June 3, 2007
What I'm trying to say...
I immediately regretted hitting the post button on that last post, but it would have shown up on a few news feeds anyway so I decided not to bother with deleting it. Besides, I rather like the story anyway, I wouldn't want to lose it because I didn't make a record of it.
What I'm talking about with this story is group dynamics. It is the nature of groups to need something to pounce on, to need something to unite against. It's what holds them together. A group which wishes to remain in existence must either have a common goal toward which clear progress can be made and seen, or a common enemy. While nobody here has yet treated me as an enemy, I find myself questioning every move that I make here because I don't want to risk being familiar enough, and yet just different enough, to be the one to pounce on.
With my recent comment over at -L-'s blog, this is especially true. A fellow blogger and friend informed me that many actually do hold precise phrasing to be divinely inspired. I hadn't even considered that, and if I had I would not have made the exact comment that I did. Rather than go into the chain of reasoning, which is actually based on scripture, that explains why I believe that way, I'd just like to say that I'm sorry if I insulted anyone's personal beliefs. My understanding of the gospel is imperfect, as it is with any man.
Part of my reaction to finding that out is that I really truly don't want to offend anybody. I am but a man, and I can err, and I do not want to tell anybody that they are wrong unless I know it for a 110% fact. Even then I'm hesitant. The other part is a fear that I've set myself up to get pounced. To become collectively viewed as "that guy" because of my radically different view on something. I mean, I know that nobody is going to just suddenly stop reading my blog because I believe something different from what you do, but I do fear that I'll become a second class MoHo...
But what's done is done, and whatever consequences come from it I'll accept.
-Stephen
What I'm talking about with this story is group dynamics. It is the nature of groups to need something to pounce on, to need something to unite against. It's what holds them together. A group which wishes to remain in existence must either have a common goal toward which clear progress can be made and seen, or a common enemy. While nobody here has yet treated me as an enemy, I find myself questioning every move that I make here because I don't want to risk being familiar enough, and yet just different enough, to be the one to pounce on.
With my recent comment over at -L-'s blog, this is especially true. A fellow blogger and friend informed me that many actually do hold precise phrasing to be divinely inspired. I hadn't even considered that, and if I had I would not have made the exact comment that I did. Rather than go into the chain of reasoning, which is actually based on scripture, that explains why I believe that way, I'd just like to say that I'm sorry if I insulted anyone's personal beliefs. My understanding of the gospel is imperfect, as it is with any man.
Part of my reaction to finding that out is that I really truly don't want to offend anybody. I am but a man, and I can err, and I do not want to tell anybody that they are wrong unless I know it for a 110% fact. Even then I'm hesitant. The other part is a fear that I've set myself up to get pounced. To become collectively viewed as "that guy" because of my radically different view on something. I mean, I know that nobody is going to just suddenly stop reading my blog because I believe something different from what you do, but I do fear that I'll become a second class MoHo...
But what's done is done, and whatever consequences come from it I'll accept.
-Stephen
Wahrsager the wolf
I really do feel like I need a cane and a long beard, but I'd like to tell you all a story. I hope that you enjoy it, and I hope that you read into it. Like the brothers Grimm, my stories are rarely just about plot exposition.
In a time when all of Germania was covered by a vast wood that spanned from the Black forest to the Teutoburg forest and far beyond on either side, a time before the legions of Alexander would first defile even a part of it, there were many strange happenings. Deep in this sacred wood, there lived a pack of wolves, about whom this story centers.
One day, a young wolf named Wahrsager went to speak to an elder of the pack. He desired to go out into the wood without the rest of the pack, and to go and see other packs, and how they lived, and to go and see other species entirely, and how they lived. The elder told him that only misery would result, but he went anyway.
On the first day of his journey, he met an owl. The owl, being the oldest and wisest of the birds in the whole forest said to the Wahrsager, "Go back to your pack. They love you and care about you, and you will only find misery in your travels. Go back to your pack, young wolf." Wahrsager, however, did not heed the owl's warning.
On he traveled, and on the second day he found a small human village. Thinking he might stop in for a meal consisting of more than the rabbits he had been eating, he went and spoke to a member of the village. The villager, did not meet him well, and began throwing things at him, and chasing him. But Wahrsager escaped with his life and all of his fur and paws, and went back to his journey with an acute knowledge of fear and war.
It was many days before the next happening, and Wahrsager had lost count. He still remembered how to get home though. He encountered a bear. He feared at first that the bear might eat him, but instead he was shown kindness, and the bear took him into his home to meet his family and to dine. The bear prayed over his food, thanking Wotan for his bounty. Here, Wahrsager learned of religion. Sadly though, the day came when he next must leave.
One day, several months later, Wahrsager met another pack of wolves. He had passed many packs on his journey, but this was the first he actually tried to talk to. They welcome him, warily, and brought him in, and offered him friendship and place to stay, but would not let him near their women or children. Here he learned of philosophy. After a week or so, Wahrsager left, and headed home, making many interesting stops and learning much along the way.
As he neared his family in his pack, he encountered first the wise old owl. The owl looked at him and said, "Go back. You will not be well received by your pack, young wolf. You are too different, and they will not have you. Go enjoy your hermitage, young wolf. Go back." Wahrsager though, did not listen.
When he arrived back at the cave where his pack lived, he was greeted with warmth and smiles, though something was different. When he tried to tell the other wolves what he had learned on his journey, they turned their backs to him and would not listen. The elder cautioned them publicly that Wahrsager meant to turn them away from the ways that had availed them since the dawn of time.
Wahrsager swore that he would not speak of his journey again, and did not share any of the wisdom he had gained. But he was still different now, within the pack, and they all sensed it. And one day, as he was going his business doing wolfy things, they killed him.
Und wenn sie nicht gestorben sind, dann leben sie noch heute.
In a time when all of Germania was covered by a vast wood that spanned from the Black forest to the Teutoburg forest and far beyond on either side, a time before the legions of Alexander would first defile even a part of it, there were many strange happenings. Deep in this sacred wood, there lived a pack of wolves, about whom this story centers.
One day, a young wolf named Wahrsager went to speak to an elder of the pack. He desired to go out into the wood without the rest of the pack, and to go and see other packs, and how they lived, and to go and see other species entirely, and how they lived. The elder told him that only misery would result, but he went anyway.
On the first day of his journey, he met an owl. The owl, being the oldest and wisest of the birds in the whole forest said to the Wahrsager, "Go back to your pack. They love you and care about you, and you will only find misery in your travels. Go back to your pack, young wolf." Wahrsager, however, did not heed the owl's warning.
On he traveled, and on the second day he found a small human village. Thinking he might stop in for a meal consisting of more than the rabbits he had been eating, he went and spoke to a member of the village. The villager, did not meet him well, and began throwing things at him, and chasing him. But Wahrsager escaped with his life and all of his fur and paws, and went back to his journey with an acute knowledge of fear and war.
It was many days before the next happening, and Wahrsager had lost count. He still remembered how to get home though. He encountered a bear. He feared at first that the bear might eat him, but instead he was shown kindness, and the bear took him into his home to meet his family and to dine. The bear prayed over his food, thanking Wotan for his bounty. Here, Wahrsager learned of religion. Sadly though, the day came when he next must leave.
One day, several months later, Wahrsager met another pack of wolves. He had passed many packs on his journey, but this was the first he actually tried to talk to. They welcome him, warily, and brought him in, and offered him friendship and place to stay, but would not let him near their women or children. Here he learned of philosophy. After a week or so, Wahrsager left, and headed home, making many interesting stops and learning much along the way.
As he neared his family in his pack, he encountered first the wise old owl. The owl looked at him and said, "Go back. You will not be well received by your pack, young wolf. You are too different, and they will not have you. Go enjoy your hermitage, young wolf. Go back." Wahrsager though, did not listen.
When he arrived back at the cave where his pack lived, he was greeted with warmth and smiles, though something was different. When he tried to tell the other wolves what he had learned on his journey, they turned their backs to him and would not listen. The elder cautioned them publicly that Wahrsager meant to turn them away from the ways that had availed them since the dawn of time.
Wahrsager swore that he would not speak of his journey again, and did not share any of the wisdom he had gained. But he was still different now, within the pack, and they all sensed it. And one day, as he was going his business doing wolfy things, they killed him.
Und wenn sie nicht gestorben sind, dann leben sie noch heute.
Saturday, June 2, 2007
A littlfe fire never hurt anybody... permanently...
While reading comments over at a few various blogs, and even commenting every now and then, I've noticed that some people, including myself, tend to get a little bit spiteful in their ardent advocation against an apparent assailant. Obviously, I'm not in a position to say, "Stop it, you apes!" or any other such thing, but if I were, rest assured that I would. Rather than give you a long lecture that nobody would read about hurt feelings and such, we're going to have an "also sprach Stephen" moment.
I love you all. Even those of you I haven't met. This is a big time problem of mine, that I give my heart away so quickly, but really, truly, I do care about each and every one of you. I'm not saying that I want to start a relationship with any of you or anything, so please don't read that into this. I want you all to know that when I see you suffering, I feel that with you. I hope that you all sort of feel the same way about each other.
We will always have different opinions than one another, and that is a part of life. But if I may, I'd like to encourage you to not spite another moho because of his views or opinions on something, or because of a decision he's made. Or a mistake. I'd also like to encourage you not to declare anybody "not a moho." At least for these purposes. It's rather akin to listening to a humanist argument and then saying, "well, it doesn't apply because these things aren't people. Accordingly, I just want to say to you, oh valued reader of my blog, that I do love you. I love you notwithstanding your status in the church, I love you regardless of whether you've ever kissed a boy(or girl!), I love you even if you have tasted the forbidden waters, and I love you even if you haven't. I love you if you're a republican, a democrat, a green, a libertarian, a communist, a federalist, an independent, a political apathetic, or anything in between. I love you if you comment on my blog, and I love you if you read in silence. I love you if you check my blog for updates religiously and I love you too, oh first time reader. If this isn't your first time and you managed to not get addicted last time, I doubt this post is going to sway you, but that's OK because I love you anyway. Jerk. (j/k)
Alright, that's about as sappy as I get. Who wants a hug?
-Stephen
P.S.
I didn't do a very good job of communicating that I wanted that to apply to EVERY MoHo, not just the guys. Especially the I Love yous. I'm going to resist the urge to rip off V for Vendetta and talk about how even though I ma never hug you etc... but yeah.
-Stephen
I love you all. Even those of you I haven't met. This is a big time problem of mine, that I give my heart away so quickly, but really, truly, I do care about each and every one of you. I'm not saying that I want to start a relationship with any of you or anything, so please don't read that into this. I want you all to know that when I see you suffering, I feel that with you. I hope that you all sort of feel the same way about each other.
We will always have different opinions than one another, and that is a part of life. But if I may, I'd like to encourage you to not spite another moho because of his views or opinions on something, or because of a decision he's made. Or a mistake. I'd also like to encourage you not to declare anybody "not a moho." At least for these purposes. It's rather akin to listening to a humanist argument and then saying, "well, it doesn't apply because these things aren't people. Accordingly, I just want to say to you, oh valued reader of my blog, that I do love you. I love you notwithstanding your status in the church, I love you regardless of whether you've ever kissed a boy(or girl!), I love you even if you have tasted the forbidden waters, and I love you even if you haven't. I love you if you're a republican, a democrat, a green, a libertarian, a communist, a federalist, an independent, a political apathetic, or anything in between. I love you if you comment on my blog, and I love you if you read in silence. I love you if you check my blog for updates religiously and I love you too, oh first time reader. If this isn't your first time and you managed to not get addicted last time, I doubt this post is going to sway you, but that's OK because I love you anyway. Jerk. (j/k)
Alright, that's about as sappy as I get. Who wants a hug?
-Stephen
P.S.
I didn't do a very good job of communicating that I wanted that to apply to EVERY MoHo, not just the guys. Especially the I Love yous. I'm going to resist the urge to rip off V for Vendetta and talk about how even though I ma never hug you etc... but yeah.
-Stephen
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