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
Showing posts with label Journal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Journal. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Dinner with the Missionaries
Today, we had dinner with the missionaries. Usually in my personal history, I've associated dinner with the missionaries with happiness and such. This might have been, however, the most awkward dinner with the missionaries EVER. EVER in the history of EVER.
First, we had Pizza. Pizza. Not home made pizza, not some kind of special pizza, just plain old run of the mill pizza from Pizza Hut. I wanted to die from embarrassment right off. My mother doesn't like to cook, but I didn't think she'd go quite that low. I mean, seriously. Pizza... Heaven forbid we give them a good home-cooked meal. Good German fare, good American fare, SOMETHING other than pizza. She has let herself go so far from the days of Germany.
Anyway, the conversation at our beautifully decorated rosewood table, which had a table cloth that could have stood to have another foot in radius, was forced and awkward. Like a script in a bad play. "Where do you come from?" "A little town called _____, in Montana." The conversation would there end. Later a missionary would ask, "So, are you going to school?" "I just got back from my first year at BYU." "Oh." A penetrating silence followed as the looks in their faces betrayed them: wondering whether I was maybe unworthy or didn't have a testimony. Didn't bother to ask if I was even of mission age.
Dessert was ice-cream, from the freezer. It had been sitting out there a bit too long though, and I got the old stuff while everybody else got new stuff. But I was OK with that, in a way. It was OK. It was the quiet of the room as we ate that bothered me. No conversation whatsoever. My father talked briefly about his career with the government, and my mother brought up how I insisted on the correct pronunciation of Iran and Iraq. This brought more awkward silence and more of those looks.
Finally, they got to sharing a spiritual thought with us. It was the new first discussion. I don't think I've ever seen anybody less enthusiastic about anything. They weren't riveting and bursting at the seems with an overpowering spirit, dying to share a message of salvation. In fact, they didn't seem to care. They had a few lines that sounding rather robotic and memorized that I silently questioned. "We've searched it out for ourselves." Had they really, or had they taken it on faith? Could they answer the really tough questions. Not the easy ones, anybody can answer the easy ones, but could they answer the tough ones with a better answer than "pray about it [you weak testimonied filth]."
They said a prayer that lasted for a good five minutes. The phone rang twice during said prayer. Try as I might, I couldn't feel the spirit at all the whole evening, even during the prayer. I think they just wanted to get out of there as quickly as they could. And who could blame them? In a situation that awkward, I'd want out too.
Anyway, I think this is the first time I've had dinner with the missionaries and I didn't come away feeling spiritually charged and ready to take on the whole universe. I'm not quite sure what to make of it. Maybe I'm not worthy... maybe I don't deserve to feel the spirit when they pray, when they give the first lesson. Maybe it wasn't there. I think I'm going to go force my way through three kilometers of freestyle. It's time for me to get back in good swimming shape again...
-Stephen
P.S.
The pool was closed early tonight for some special event or other. I'll have to go tomorrow instead.
P.P.S.
This blog should not be interpreted as "Pizza shook my testimony," which is what another blogger told me he got out of it. Just, for the record, that's not what's going on...
First, we had Pizza. Pizza. Not home made pizza, not some kind of special pizza, just plain old run of the mill pizza from Pizza Hut. I wanted to die from embarrassment right off. My mother doesn't like to cook, but I didn't think she'd go quite that low. I mean, seriously. Pizza... Heaven forbid we give them a good home-cooked meal. Good German fare, good American fare, SOMETHING other than pizza. She has let herself go so far from the days of Germany.
Anyway, the conversation at our beautifully decorated rosewood table, which had a table cloth that could have stood to have another foot in radius, was forced and awkward. Like a script in a bad play. "Where do you come from?" "A little town called _____, in Montana." The conversation would there end. Later a missionary would ask, "So, are you going to school?" "I just got back from my first year at BYU." "Oh." A penetrating silence followed as the looks in their faces betrayed them: wondering whether I was maybe unworthy or didn't have a testimony. Didn't bother to ask if I was even of mission age.
Dessert was ice-cream, from the freezer. It had been sitting out there a bit too long though, and I got the old stuff while everybody else got new stuff. But I was OK with that, in a way. It was OK. It was the quiet of the room as we ate that bothered me. No conversation whatsoever. My father talked briefly about his career with the government, and my mother brought up how I insisted on the correct pronunciation of Iran and Iraq. This brought more awkward silence and more of those looks.
Finally, they got to sharing a spiritual thought with us. It was the new first discussion. I don't think I've ever seen anybody less enthusiastic about anything. They weren't riveting and bursting at the seems with an overpowering spirit, dying to share a message of salvation. In fact, they didn't seem to care. They had a few lines that sounding rather robotic and memorized that I silently questioned. "We've searched it out for ourselves." Had they really, or had they taken it on faith? Could they answer the really tough questions. Not the easy ones, anybody can answer the easy ones, but could they answer the tough ones with a better answer than "pray about it [you weak testimonied filth]."
They said a prayer that lasted for a good five minutes. The phone rang twice during said prayer. Try as I might, I couldn't feel the spirit at all the whole evening, even during the prayer. I think they just wanted to get out of there as quickly as they could. And who could blame them? In a situation that awkward, I'd want out too.
Anyway, I think this is the first time I've had dinner with the missionaries and I didn't come away feeling spiritually charged and ready to take on the whole universe. I'm not quite sure what to make of it. Maybe I'm not worthy... maybe I don't deserve to feel the spirit when they pray, when they give the first lesson. Maybe it wasn't there. I think I'm going to go force my way through three kilometers of freestyle. It's time for me to get back in good swimming shape again...
-Stephen
P.S.
The pool was closed early tonight for some special event or other. I'll have to go tomorrow instead.
P.P.S.
This blog should not be interpreted as "Pizza shook my testimony," which is what another blogger told me he got out of it. Just, for the record, that's not what's going on...
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Something About the Hard Hat
I got a call from the temp agency today, causing me to roll out of bed at about 11:30 in the morning. They wanted me to go unload a truck full of cabinets at minimum wage for four hours. It wasn't the greatest job in the world, but it wasn't that bad either. They said they'd call me back for the same job a few times. It was hard work, but there was a bonus unexpected involved in the process.
You see, I've always wanted to wear a real hard hat, and I got to do it today. Really, it made me feel rather masculine. It's not like I find hard hats attractive or anything, and certainly not like I find anything particularly attractive about the people wearing them (That's an honor I reserve for sports equipment (like baseball, soccer, etc.) and the people wearing that!), but it reminds me of a scene in one of my favorite movies, "summer storm," where a gay guy says that a fight he was in made him feel super masculine. It was kind of nice to have a physical object affirm my manhood. Not that it was in doubt or anything, just... I felt pretty manly in that hat. That, of course, abruptly ended the second they gave me the knee-high boots that they wanted me to wear. But what can you do, eh?
Anyway, I need to make you all watch summer storm when I get back to Provo. We can gloss over the sex scenes, and we'll watch it with English subtitles so you'll understand it. It is a German film after all. Anyway, that's about it, just giving you that brief update on my life.
-Stephen
P.S.
I also felt kind of masculine purely from the fact that of the two people I was working with, one was a convict, who went to jail for six years for assault. The other was an old man who was getting ready to take some kind of test to become an electrician. The latter didn't really make me feel all the great, but working with a convict... Is it against the rules to add something to the list of things you want to do after you've already done it?
You see, I've always wanted to wear a real hard hat, and I got to do it today. Really, it made me feel rather masculine. It's not like I find hard hats attractive or anything, and certainly not like I find anything particularly attractive about the people wearing them (That's an honor I reserve for sports equipment (like baseball, soccer, etc.) and the people wearing that!), but it reminds me of a scene in one of my favorite movies, "summer storm," where a gay guy says that a fight he was in made him feel super masculine. It was kind of nice to have a physical object affirm my manhood. Not that it was in doubt or anything, just... I felt pretty manly in that hat. That, of course, abruptly ended the second they gave me the knee-high boots that they wanted me to wear. But what can you do, eh?
Anyway, I need to make you all watch summer storm when I get back to Provo. We can gloss over the sex scenes, and we'll watch it with English subtitles so you'll understand it. It is a German film after all. Anyway, that's about it, just giving you that brief update on my life.
-Stephen
P.S.
I also felt kind of masculine purely from the fact that of the two people I was working with, one was a convict, who went to jail for six years for assault. The other was an old man who was getting ready to take some kind of test to become an electrician. The latter didn't really make me feel all the great, but working with a convict... Is it against the rules to add something to the list of things you want to do after you've already done it?
Friday, May 25, 2007
What am I doing?
My day consists of basically doing nothing. I just sit around all day and play video games. I don't think I've ever felt quite this unproductive and stagnant, like I'm not advancing anything toward anything. The obvious solution is to curl up in a little ball in my room somewhere. That'll make me productive. I know that the whiny posts are getting more than a little old pretty quickly, but I really don't know what I'm doing any more. When I'm not moving toward anything in any direction in any regard... The only progress I'm making is in FFXII, which is a pretty cool game, but even so... Anyway, what this translates to is that since I'm not making any progress, and am actually only making things (financially) worse...
I would really, really, really like to not have to, but I think I might have to give up camp this year. Unless something happens in the near future, that's the way it's going to be, giving up camp in favor of looking for a job that pays a bit more. Like, ~twice as much (which won't be difficult). The problem is that nobody wants to employ me for just a couple weeks, but I could find a job that would last me to the end of summer no problem. So yeah, I don't know what to do. I tried to talk about it with my father tonight, but his mind is completely elsewhere. My little brother's trial is taking up all of everybody's concentration, effort, and resources. So, I don't know what to do anymore. The therapy of camp is something I don't want to give up, but... if it's what I have to do, it's what I have to do...
I don't mean to mope, but I don't know what else to do...
I would really, really, really like to not have to, but I think I might have to give up camp this year. Unless something happens in the near future, that's the way it's going to be, giving up camp in favor of looking for a job that pays a bit more. Like, ~twice as much (which won't be difficult). The problem is that nobody wants to employ me for just a couple weeks, but I could find a job that would last me to the end of summer no problem. So yeah, I don't know what to do. I tried to talk about it with my father tonight, but his mind is completely elsewhere. My little brother's trial is taking up all of everybody's concentration, effort, and resources. So, I don't know what to do anymore. The therapy of camp is something I don't want to give up, but... if it's what I have to do, it's what I have to do...
I don't mean to mope, but I don't know what else to do...
Thursday, May 24, 2007
What to blog about
It's been four days since my last blog, a new record for me. The thing is, there's just not anything quite exciting enough going on in my life to blog about.
I got a call from the temp agency this morning, at about 5:30 (an ungodly hour). They wanted to know if I would be interested in driving down to the office to pick up as many people as I could cram into my car to work construction clean up for eight hours in TILLAMOOK and then drive back. Yes, Tillamook, as in the place where I got my ticket that's like an hour and a half away when you don't speed (which I don't do anymore... at least not for the time being) and takes the better part of a tank of gas to get there and back, at least in my 10 gallon tank it does...
My rough profits would have been about fifteen-twenty dollars for the day after the gasoline. Somehow, I just wasn't interested in working eight hours (plus driving for three) for twenty dollars... Go figure...
Some of you may have noticed, I recently did some house keeping on the blog. I added tags to almost all of my posts, and I tried to keep them uniform. While I really added them more for my personal use, anybody who wanted to do in-depth research on me (because I'm that interesting) could use them to do so, and could filter posts only relating to my personal philosophy, or to my early childhood, or what have you. Just thought I'd let you all know about my cool new feature on the blog... and by cool new feature, I mean I spent about ten minutes setting it all up... most of that was spent thinking for names of tags... I might have clicked on like, ten different buttons to do it all (not counting repeats). So cool new feature might be selling it as more than it is, but yeah. You get the idea.
-Stephen
I got a call from the temp agency this morning, at about 5:30 (an ungodly hour). They wanted to know if I would be interested in driving down to the office to pick up as many people as I could cram into my car to work construction clean up for eight hours in TILLAMOOK and then drive back. Yes, Tillamook, as in the place where I got my ticket that's like an hour and a half away when you don't speed (which I don't do anymore... at least not for the time being) and takes the better part of a tank of gas to get there and back, at least in my 10 gallon tank it does...
My rough profits would have been about fifteen-twenty dollars for the day after the gasoline. Somehow, I just wasn't interested in working eight hours (plus driving for three) for twenty dollars... Go figure...
Some of you may have noticed, I recently did some house keeping on the blog. I added tags to almost all of my posts, and I tried to keep them uniform. While I really added them more for my personal use, anybody who wanted to do in-depth research on me (because I'm that interesting) could use them to do so, and could filter posts only relating to my personal philosophy, or to my early childhood, or what have you. Just thought I'd let you all know about my cool new feature on the blog... and by cool new feature, I mean I spent about ten minutes setting it all up... most of that was spent thinking for names of tags... I might have clicked on like, ten different buttons to do it all (not counting repeats). So cool new feature might be selling it as more than it is, but yeah. You get the idea.
-Stephen
Monday, May 21, 2007
You know it's bad when you don't even want to blog about it
I'm waiting, no praying for the rubber band people to come around and give me my good snap after all the bad. I don't even know where to start. I guess the very beginning is a good place. The weekend was going well, as all Meriwether weekends do, until I got pulled over for the first time. The officer claims he clocked me at 76 in a 55 zone. I was speeding, but I wasn't going 21 over. And he was an ass about it. Compounded by the fact that I didn't have registration and proof of insurance in the car. The let me off with a verbal warning and said he'd pull me over the next time he saw me to check if I had it. If I didn't, he intended to impound my car. Jackass. So I have a court date in a month. If it were in the city, I would fight it, but it's out in Tillamook, and the judge (the only judge) has a history of ridiculous findings, i.e. the testimony of one police officer outweighs the testimony of three civilians. So I don't know exactly what I'll do. I have, however, developed newfound disdain for the fuzz, flat feet, coppers, pigs, call them what you will. (side note: does anybody know the modern mean thing we call the police? I can't think of anything that isn't at least 20 years outdated...)
In other news, my little brother got arrested today. Imagine my surprise when I was at a kinder-concert with my little sister when my dad calls asking me to get my mom up to the school. The little sexual deviant has been accused of groping the breasts of three girls who expressly told him "no." He's not going back to school for the rest of the school year, and we've retained a lawyer. That means, of course, that any money my parents might have been thinking of giving me for school in the fall is now gone. We won't even get into the fact that I might just lose my little brother because the state decides my parents aren't doing a good job with him. Unlikely, but possible. Needless to say, I'm more than a little frustrated.
I went in to see a temp agency today, in hopes of finding some work. They said to let them know how I was doing for work later in the week and they'd let me know if they had any openings for me. They didn't seem hopeful though, due to my lack of clerical experience. She even gave me a list of other agencies more suited to my talents... Yipes...
Anyway, something good's got to happen soon, right? I mean, only so much bad stuff can happen before something really, really good has got to happen, right? Right? I don't think I had this much bad karma built up, so now the universe has to even things out, right? Maybe... Then again, maybe that's just stupid...
In other news, my little brother got arrested today. Imagine my surprise when I was at a kinder-concert with my little sister when my dad calls asking me to get my mom up to the school. The little sexual deviant has been accused of groping the breasts of three girls who expressly told him "no." He's not going back to school for the rest of the school year, and we've retained a lawyer. That means, of course, that any money my parents might have been thinking of giving me for school in the fall is now gone. We won't even get into the fact that I might just lose my little brother because the state decides my parents aren't doing a good job with him. Unlikely, but possible. Needless to say, I'm more than a little frustrated.
I went in to see a temp agency today, in hopes of finding some work. They said to let them know how I was doing for work later in the week and they'd let me know if they had any openings for me. They didn't seem hopeful though, due to my lack of clerical experience. She even gave me a list of other agencies more suited to my talents... Yipes...
Anyway, something good's got to happen soon, right? I mean, only so much bad stuff can happen before something really, really good has got to happen, right? Right? I don't think I had this much bad karma built up, so now the universe has to even things out, right? Maybe... Then again, maybe that's just stupid...
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Uvula, Bank Fees, Internet, and Shaving.
I had the most interesting experience the other day. Have you ever seen a baby in front of a mirror when they first realize that it isn't another baby, but is in fact themselves? Did you ever notice the way the seem so genuinely intrigued and interested in their own anatomy, and like to make cooing noises as they figure out what "hands" are and how they work? If only they knew...
Anyway, I had a similar experience in front of the bathroom mirror on Tuesday. At least, I think it was Tuesday. See, my braces like to tear parts of my cheeks away, and in the freshly opened gaps, different things happen. Food gets lodged, bacteria start to grow, new cheek starts to cover over it all. The point is, I have to do some regular maintenance. Every other day or so, I go in and clean them out. Well, on Tuesday as I was cleaning out my braces cuts, I decided to depress my tongue. You know that line that goes down the back of your mouth? It isn't a solid structure! It's your Uvula! I was astonished, like you don't even know. I probably spent the next fifteen minutes playing with my uvula (not a euphemism) and making funny sounds. It was nice to be able to return to baby-land for a while and get all excited about a part of my anatomy with which I wasn't intimately familiar. I'm still kind of smiling just thinking about it. If you haven't discovered your uvula yet, I'd definitely advise it; it'll put a smile on your face.
I went to the bank today. Always a harrowing experience. I found out that nine days ago, they had hit me with about 143 USD worth of overdraft fees for charges that I had made almost a whole week before that. Heaven forbid they TELL ME! Especially since it was almost the end of the day on the date of my overdraft when I went to an ATM to check and it said that I still had a balance. The bank very kindly agreed to reverse 81 dollars worth of them, but... growl. The teller tells me, "It's not the bank's job to monitor your money." I honestly don't know why I would use a bank instead of keeping my cash in a jar under my pillow (other than the fact that that would make sleeping uncomfortable) if that's the truth. The entire POINT of the banking system is that they help you monitor your money. That's why we use banks instead of piggy banks! Growl. So, anyway, I'm back to being broke. And I still haven't started. I've given up on that job at the computer place. It doesn't take three weeks to run paper work. He shouldn't have offered if he didn't mean it. Jerk.
The internet is working again. When my parents moved, I only had internet access when I sat in just the right spot and the wind wasn't blowing so I could steal the neighbor's WiFi. The comcast man came by today. He wasn't remotely attractive, but he activated our internet access! So I can now surf for longer periods of time uninterrupted and get back to making comments; I've fallen behind.
For those of you who don't know, I was until recently blessed with the ability to go for long periods of time without shaving. I could push three weeks and only people who saw me moderately often would notice. Oh cruel world, it is no longer so! My chin hair isn't as soft as it used to be, or as blond! Do you know what that means? I actually have to shave regularly now. While a part of me is kind of excited because it's something that everybody else does and it kind of vindicates me as a man, it means that I have to get up a couple minutes earlier to make it out the door.
And I'm headed back to camp this weekend. I love camp. Really, truly, I won't ever be able to get married because I'm in love with camp. I may have already said that, but I'm too lazy to check. Less-journaly post to follow in near future.
-Stephen
Anyway, I had a similar experience in front of the bathroom mirror on Tuesday. At least, I think it was Tuesday. See, my braces like to tear parts of my cheeks away, and in the freshly opened gaps, different things happen. Food gets lodged, bacteria start to grow, new cheek starts to cover over it all. The point is, I have to do some regular maintenance. Every other day or so, I go in and clean them out. Well, on Tuesday as I was cleaning out my braces cuts, I decided to depress my tongue. You know that line that goes down the back of your mouth? It isn't a solid structure! It's your Uvula! I was astonished, like you don't even know. I probably spent the next fifteen minutes playing with my uvula (not a euphemism) and making funny sounds. It was nice to be able to return to baby-land for a while and get all excited about a part of my anatomy with which I wasn't intimately familiar. I'm still kind of smiling just thinking about it. If you haven't discovered your uvula yet, I'd definitely advise it; it'll put a smile on your face.
I went to the bank today. Always a harrowing experience. I found out that nine days ago, they had hit me with about 143 USD worth of overdraft fees for charges that I had made almost a whole week before that. Heaven forbid they TELL ME! Especially since it was almost the end of the day on the date of my overdraft when I went to an ATM to check and it said that I still had a balance. The bank very kindly agreed to reverse 81 dollars worth of them, but... growl. The teller tells me, "It's not the bank's job to monitor your money." I honestly don't know why I would use a bank instead of keeping my cash in a jar under my pillow (other than the fact that that would make sleeping uncomfortable) if that's the truth. The entire POINT of the banking system is that they help you monitor your money. That's why we use banks instead of piggy banks! Growl. So, anyway, I'm back to being broke. And I still haven't started. I've given up on that job at the computer place. It doesn't take three weeks to run paper work. He shouldn't have offered if he didn't mean it. Jerk.
The internet is working again. When my parents moved, I only had internet access when I sat in just the right spot and the wind wasn't blowing so I could steal the neighbor's WiFi. The comcast man came by today. He wasn't remotely attractive, but he activated our internet access! So I can now surf for longer periods of time uninterrupted and get back to making comments; I've fallen behind.
For those of you who don't know, I was until recently blessed with the ability to go for long periods of time without shaving. I could push three weeks and only people who saw me moderately often would notice. Oh cruel world, it is no longer so! My chin hair isn't as soft as it used to be, or as blond! Do you know what that means? I actually have to shave regularly now. While a part of me is kind of excited because it's something that everybody else does and it kind of vindicates me as a man, it means that I have to get up a couple minutes earlier to make it out the door.
And I'm headed back to camp this weekend. I love camp. Really, truly, I won't ever be able to get married because I'm in love with camp. I may have already said that, but I'm too lazy to check. Less-journaly post to follow in near future.
-Stephen
Monday, May 14, 2007
Back from camp
I love camp! Love, love, love, love, love. Especially now that I'm a director and I actually have my own staff to deal with. It's a stressful job with more politics than any other workplace I've ever heard of, and I absolutely love it. Love, love, love it. If I had the money, I'd bring all of you up to my camp, and show you just how wonderful/beautiful/incredible it is. And the people are all so friendly, it's right on the beach, we have our own small desert, it's just the most perfect place ever for a boyscout camp.
One of the things I look forward to a bit less about this summer is that since it's a boyscout camp, I get to pretend to be straight. I'm also the only Mormon other than the camp director on senior staff. This is the first year in over a decade that's happened. That means I get to participate in such interesting conversation as, "When's the last time you got some?" "She's so hot" "If it was the only way you were ever going to get off again, would you take a blowjob from a guy?" and "What if you had to reciprocate?" All from the straightest perspective ever. I think that I can fake it with the best of them, and I managed to escape most of these conversations relatively unscathed, until about 6:00 in the morning when I suggested that we might want a couple hours of sleep. It's good practice, I guess, because if I can fool these guys with whom I'll be living and in constant contact for eight weeks this summer, I can fool anybody. But it is a little stressful, at times, to try to keep up that image. Meh, it just adds to the fun, kind of.
Oh, and before I go and leave you hanging, my blood results show that I have type 1 HSV. It sheds about 3 days a month, and 90% of the time is responsible only for oral legions (cold sores). The chance of it shedding and another person getting it from me unless I have sores of my own is negligible (said the physician). They think I've had it for a long, long time, and when I said my baby sister used to get cold sores all the time, she said, "oh, well you probably got it from her then!" So yeah, I'm fine. That was the only abnormal thing in my blood work. I don't have diabetes.
One of the things I look forward to a bit less about this summer is that since it's a boyscout camp, I get to pretend to be straight. I'm also the only Mormon other than the camp director on senior staff. This is the first year in over a decade that's happened. That means I get to participate in such interesting conversation as, "When's the last time you got some?" "She's so hot" "If it was the only way you were ever going to get off again, would you take a blowjob from a guy?" and "What if you had to reciprocate?" All from the straightest perspective ever. I think that I can fake it with the best of them, and I managed to escape most of these conversations relatively unscathed, until about 6:00 in the morning when I suggested that we might want a couple hours of sleep. It's good practice, I guess, because if I can fool these guys with whom I'll be living and in constant contact for eight weeks this summer, I can fool anybody. But it is a little stressful, at times, to try to keep up that image. Meh, it just adds to the fun, kind of.
Oh, and before I go and leave you hanging, my blood results show that I have type 1 HSV. It sheds about 3 days a month, and 90% of the time is responsible only for oral legions (cold sores). The chance of it shedding and another person getting it from me unless I have sores of my own is negligible (said the physician). They think I've had it for a long, long time, and when I said my baby sister used to get cold sores all the time, she said, "oh, well you probably got it from her then!" So yeah, I'm fine. That was the only abnormal thing in my blood work. I don't have diabetes.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Camp
It's been a less than pleasant week for me. There was the whole Kevin thing, although he's tonight expressed that he wants to try spending more time together, I'm still pretty solid on the fact that he's just too young for me. There's the nightmare with my job. I still don't know when I'll be starting, and I really would like to have been working these last two weeks... that's over 600 dollars in missed wages we're talking about here. I would really not mind having that money, and I might need to go out and look for another job. The one place still needs translators... That's to say nothing of my car problems, which have thankfully been resolved, but were way less than fun anyway. And then, to top it all off, I went in for my pre-camp physical earlier this week, and they wanted samples of blood and urine to do some lab work. They just called and said that they wanted me to come in (tomorrow morning) to discuss my lab results with my DR. When I asked if it was bad, all they would tell me is that it wasn't HIV. At least I'm not dying... from that...
But, in much better news, I'm going to camp for the weekend! I'm not going camping, I'm going to camp! My lovely camp on the coast, that is the love of my life. Of course, I JUST realize that I haven't made up my lesson plans yet... they were due about a month ago and I was asked to bring them tomorrow... I might be spending some time working on that, but yeah... I'm just so excited. Not only to I get to spend the weekend in a place that makes me smile wider than Disney World, but I get to spend time with a lot of really close friends I've come to know from camp. It doesn't pay that great, but I love it too much to just leave them, you know? So, anyway, you can expect a post from me after the weekend, or during if we've got the internet access set up in the management areas already. I'll be giddy, and speaking gibberish, but you can expect a post.
I could ramble on for hours with stories about camp, but the short of it is, I love it. I love the camp itself, I love the people I work with, I love the program, I love everything about camp, and even these work weekends which I'll spend most of working are a cause for a massive celebration. So I'm celebrating. Period. I don't know if any of you can understand why it makes me so happy, but... I'm ecstatic. Or maybe even more. This place is like home... Where you feel a metaphysical connection to everything around you, deer, tree, fern, ocean, mountain, hill, gravel, lake, dirt, buildings, everything. It's just... it's... Yeah. It's just that good, and I don't have the words to explain it in either language.
But, in much better news, I'm going to camp for the weekend! I'm not going camping, I'm going to camp! My lovely camp on the coast, that is the love of my life. Of course, I JUST realize that I haven't made up my lesson plans yet... they were due about a month ago and I was asked to bring them tomorrow... I might be spending some time working on that, but yeah... I'm just so excited. Not only to I get to spend the weekend in a place that makes me smile wider than Disney World, but I get to spend time with a lot of really close friends I've come to know from camp. It doesn't pay that great, but I love it too much to just leave them, you know? So, anyway, you can expect a post from me after the weekend, or during if we've got the internet access set up in the management areas already. I'll be giddy, and speaking gibberish, but you can expect a post.
I could ramble on for hours with stories about camp, but the short of it is, I love it. I love the camp itself, I love the people I work with, I love the program, I love everything about camp, and even these work weekends which I'll spend most of working are a cause for a massive celebration. So I'm celebrating. Period. I don't know if any of you can understand why it makes me so happy, but... I'm ecstatic. Or maybe even more. This place is like home... Where you feel a metaphysical connection to everything around you, deer, tree, fern, ocean, mountain, hill, gravel, lake, dirt, buildings, everything. It's just... it's... Yeah. It's just that good, and I don't have the words to explain it in either language.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Everything I touch turns to broken.
I opened the sun-roof in my car yesterday. Whoops.
Now it won't close. And it's at the mechanics... In case you couldn't tell, I'm thrilled. No, I'm more than thrilled, I'm stoked.
The guy who offered me a job has been too busy with Tennis Districts Matches to process my paper work...
Ungh.
Now it won't close. And it's at the mechanics... In case you couldn't tell, I'm thrilled. No, I'm more than thrilled, I'm stoked.
The guy who offered me a job has been too busy with Tennis Districts Matches to process my paper work...
Ungh.
Monday, May 7, 2007
Locks.
The funniest thing just happened.
So, I, having a bunch of pent up energy, just went on a jog to the gym. I found it to be closed. Feeling rather brilliant, I jogged back. The total jogging spent up most of that energy. It's 2:00 in the morning. Of course the gym is closed... Duh... Anyway, I put my key in the lock, and I turned it, and the funniest thing happened. Like, this is so funny you won't even believe me because I don't know how to put a picture up Blogger. The part that you put the key just popped out and refused to let go of my key. And by popped out, I mean completely separated itself from the door knob and the rest of the locking mechanism. Once I removed it completely, I turned the key a couple dozen times all the way around, and it finally let go. Under normal circumstances, this should have been extremely upsetting, but... I just had to laugh. Really. I'm struggling to stop laughing now.
-Stephen
P.S.
I figured out how to post pictures!
-Stephen
So, I, having a bunch of pent up energy, just went on a jog to the gym. I found it to be closed. Feeling rather brilliant, I jogged back. The total jogging spent up most of that energy. It's 2:00 in the morning. Of course the gym is closed... Duh... Anyway, I put my key in the lock, and I turned it, and the funniest thing happened. Like, this is so funny you won't even believe me because I don't know how to put a picture up Blogger. The part that you put the key just popped out and refused to let go of my key. And by popped out, I mean completely separated itself from the door knob and the rest of the locking mechanism. Once I removed it completely, I turned the key a couple dozen times all the way around, and it finally let go. Under normal circumstances, this should have been extremely upsetting, but... I just had to laugh. Really. I'm struggling to stop laughing now.
-Stephen
P.S.
I figured out how to post pictures!
-Stephen
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Homecomings
Hey it's good to be back home again. Sometimes, this old house, feels like a long lost friend. Yes ’n’ hey, it’s good to be back home again.
As soon as I crossed the border from Idaho into Oregon, I exited in Ontario, a border city, to buy something, anything, without a sales tax. And to feel Oregon ground under my feet. Even so, by the time I got home Friday night, it was extremely late, and I went to bed shortly thereafter. I meant to blog then about the long drive, but, yeah...
Saturday morning, I had an appointment with my beautician. We talked about it, and she filled me in on western American preppy fashions and styles over the past few months. So, we cut my hair short. I'll put up some pictures on my Facebook. It'll be cool. While we were at it, she gave me a shopping list to take to American Eagle, A&F, or Hollister for my new look. Since A&F and Hollister are owned by the same company and obscenely expensive, I went to AE. Plaid shorts and a good earthy-green vintage fit worn shirt were the order of the day, one outfit at a time... Then I went and got this really good smelling Adidas Rasierwasser.
Well, the better part of the day later, I went to go see a play at my old Highschool, and thereafter went to this party, all the while wearing my new preppy clothes and soccer fragrance. Somewhere along the way at the party somebody suggested hot-tubbing. Who says no to hot-tubbing? Anyway, this kind of cute kid, he might come up again so he needs a name... Kevin. Anyway, Kevin is not exactly religious, and he's also gay, and he was in the hot tub too. Obviously, nothing really happened with the ten or so other people in the hot tub, except with so many people, we were all a little crammed and he had to sit on my lap. We were both real put out about that. :)
Anyway, some time around 6:30 in the morning I headed home, and got ready to listen to elder Uchtdorf, who spoke at a stake conference at my old high school today. Elder Uchtdorf is the apostle that would be my favorite if it weren't for the fact that one shouldn't have a favorite apostle. I mean, come on, he's German. Anyway, he said a few good things that everybody should know. Portland reminds him of Germany. People need to try to be less clickish. We have a responsibility to go forth and serve our fellow men constantly. We all need to have more charity, the pure love of Christ, for everybody. CTR actually means "Current Temple Recommend," in addition to "Choose the Right." Everybody should prepare to serve a mission, and try to hold a current temple recommend.
I guess the point is that as soon as I get back to Oregon, everything runs like butter, but gets all the more confusing. I'm not sure I'm kosher with how preparing for a mission and letting a cute boy sit on my lap in a hot-tub interplay...
-Stephen
As soon as I crossed the border from Idaho into Oregon, I exited in Ontario, a border city, to buy something, anything, without a sales tax. And to feel Oregon ground under my feet. Even so, by the time I got home Friday night, it was extremely late, and I went to bed shortly thereafter. I meant to blog then about the long drive, but, yeah...
Saturday morning, I had an appointment with my beautician. We talked about it, and she filled me in on western American preppy fashions and styles over the past few months. So, we cut my hair short. I'll put up some pictures on my Facebook. It'll be cool. While we were at it, she gave me a shopping list to take to American Eagle, A&F, or Hollister for my new look. Since A&F and Hollister are owned by the same company and obscenely expensive, I went to AE. Plaid shorts and a good earthy-green vintage fit worn shirt were the order of the day, one outfit at a time... Then I went and got this really good smelling Adidas Rasierwasser.
Well, the better part of the day later, I went to go see a play at my old Highschool, and thereafter went to this party, all the while wearing my new preppy clothes and soccer fragrance. Somewhere along the way at the party somebody suggested hot-tubbing. Who says no to hot-tubbing? Anyway, this kind of cute kid, he might come up again so he needs a name... Kevin. Anyway, Kevin is not exactly religious, and he's also gay, and he was in the hot tub too. Obviously, nothing really happened with the ten or so other people in the hot tub, except with so many people, we were all a little crammed and he had to sit on my lap. We were both real put out about that. :)
Anyway, some time around 6:30 in the morning I headed home, and got ready to listen to elder Uchtdorf, who spoke at a stake conference at my old high school today. Elder Uchtdorf is the apostle that would be my favorite if it weren't for the fact that one shouldn't have a favorite apostle. I mean, come on, he's German. Anyway, he said a few good things that everybody should know. Portland reminds him of Germany. People need to try to be less clickish. We have a responsibility to go forth and serve our fellow men constantly. We all need to have more charity, the pure love of Christ, for everybody. CTR actually means "Current Temple Recommend," in addition to "Choose the Right." Everybody should prepare to serve a mission, and try to hold a current temple recommend.
I guess the point is that as soon as I get back to Oregon, everything runs like butter, but gets all the more confusing. I'm not sure I'm kosher with how preparing for a mission and letting a cute boy sit on my lap in a hot-tub interplay...
-Stephen
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Jack Healey and -L-'s list
I just spent the better part of my afternoon with Jack Healey, who was the director of Amnesty International for 12 years. We talked about his work with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., as well as his work abroad and, well, we just talked about everything. I think he's a really laid back guy for somebody who's accomplished as much as he has.
Also, I've been checking repeatedly for the past few days, and now I finally feel kind of official. Obviously it doesn't really change anything at all, but I'm on -L-'s list. I feel, well, like I'm officially a MoHo... Not that I wasn't before, but you know how when you walked at your high school graduation and they gave you the fake diploma and you were just kind of like, "Dude, WTF?" and then the real diploma came in the mail and it was official? Or like, when you finished your eagle project and turned everything in and finished your big long nasty board of review, and it was kind of done, but not really? And then you actually had your eagle court of honor and it was official? Maybe this isn't making sense to anybody else, but... yeah... I'm going to quit while I'm ahead.
-Stephen
Also, I've been checking repeatedly for the past few days, and now I finally feel kind of official. Obviously it doesn't really change anything at all, but I'm on -L-'s list. I feel, well, like I'm officially a MoHo... Not that I wasn't before, but you know how when you walked at your high school graduation and they gave you the fake diploma and you were just kind of like, "Dude, WTF?" and then the real diploma came in the mail and it was official? Or like, when you finished your eagle project and turned everything in and finished your big long nasty board of review, and it was kind of done, but not really? And then you actually had your eagle court of honor and it was official? Maybe this isn't making sense to anybody else, but... yeah... I'm going to quit while I'm ahead.
-Stephen
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Cars, Apartments, and my dear, sweet, Mommy
Let me preface this post by saying that I love my mother very, very much. On with the show.
So, my mother brings the car into town yesterday. Before we go to dinner, we decide to stop at the dry-cleaner so I can get my favorite suit ready for Jack Healey's arrival and the alternative commencement. Well, what should happen but the car should break down. Fortunately, we got it pushed out of the way and Drex came and gave my mother a ride back to the Hotel, and then we had Heroes. And dinner. It was good.
Well, I run back to where we left the car right after Heroes, and it's a miracle! It starts! So I drive down to my mother's Hotel and we talk for a few hours. It's the car and apartment conversation. With the classic, "do you ever plan on shaving?" In all fairness, I really should shave, but... Come on... Anyway, about half an hour into it, she decides that I need to "stop harassing [her]" and "stop asking [her] for things." I didn't realize that having a conversation to work out the details of something we'd agreed on ages ago was harassing. Anyway, we finished watching the Cosby show, and I drove over to Drex's to recollect myself before I went home. But I didn't end up going home. I slept over instead. And had Chocolate cake.
So, the next morning (It's now Tuesday), I get up and I drive back to my apartment and take a shower. When I get back to the car to go get my mother, it doesn't start. Oh joy of joys... Anyway, she manages to get up to my part of town and we call AAA and they come and tow us to SDS auto. Props to SDS auto for fixing our starter issue in less than an hour after they got our car into the shop. While it was waiting, my mother and I went to lunch, and we chatted, and it was fun. Except that she doesn't like keeping secrets from my father, who seems to think that my reason for staying at BYU is that I've fallen in love with some girl. The food was good though.
Well, the car got fixed and we went and drove and looked at apartments in a few places. My mother seems to think that I should move into the Bavarian. It's more expensive, but it's so nice... Roman Gardens is pretty much out, regrettably. It looks nice, but it only has 6 washers and dryers for a two ward complex, the kitchens are tiny, really really tiny, and the microwaves are significantly older than I am. For that matter, all of the appliances are. Other than that, they were really nice, and it's very well landscaped.
So, we're driving to the airport when she tells me that she really does not support me in getting a car because she thinks that it will distract me from my mission. You read that correctly, the reason that she doesn't want me to get a car is because she thinks it will distract me from my mission. I told her that was ridiculous, that if there were things that might distract me from a mission cars were not on that list. That answer didn't seem to satisfy her, but we were at the airport at that point, so the issue couldn't be canvassed any further. Leave it to my mother to tell me exactly how I should live my life (which complex to live in (she went way in depth on why the Bavarian was so much better than everywhere else), whether or not to get a car) and why, and then to jump out of the car to get on a plane before I can formulate an answer. I love her, but sometimes...
In other news, a company from Germany bought up some of the old Tektronix property in Oregon and they need people to translate everything from technical manuals to business letters to personal letters at a rate of 15USD/hour. It's not super likely, but it's possible I will be able to get on with them this summer between the time I get back and the time I go to work at Boyscout camp. Obviously, that would make my day like no other. Extremely good money for work I could do with my hands tied in my sleep. Well, the technical manuals might not be that easy, but the business letters would be a walk in the park. Anyway, I'll keep you posted on developments on that front.
In other, other news, I'm going to dinner with Jack Healey tomorrow! Feel the excitement emanating from me. Because it is emanating.
-Stephen
So, my mother brings the car into town yesterday. Before we go to dinner, we decide to stop at the dry-cleaner so I can get my favorite suit ready for Jack Healey's arrival and the alternative commencement. Well, what should happen but the car should break down. Fortunately, we got it pushed out of the way and Drex came and gave my mother a ride back to the Hotel, and then we had Heroes. And dinner. It was good.
Well, I run back to where we left the car right after Heroes, and it's a miracle! It starts! So I drive down to my mother's Hotel and we talk for a few hours. It's the car and apartment conversation. With the classic, "do you ever plan on shaving?" In all fairness, I really should shave, but... Come on... Anyway, about half an hour into it, she decides that I need to "stop harassing [her]" and "stop asking [her] for things." I didn't realize that having a conversation to work out the details of something we'd agreed on ages ago was harassing. Anyway, we finished watching the Cosby show, and I drove over to Drex's to recollect myself before I went home. But I didn't end up going home. I slept over instead. And had Chocolate cake.
So, the next morning (It's now Tuesday), I get up and I drive back to my apartment and take a shower. When I get back to the car to go get my mother, it doesn't start. Oh joy of joys... Anyway, she manages to get up to my part of town and we call AAA and they come and tow us to SDS auto. Props to SDS auto for fixing our starter issue in less than an hour after they got our car into the shop. While it was waiting, my mother and I went to lunch, and we chatted, and it was fun. Except that she doesn't like keeping secrets from my father, who seems to think that my reason for staying at BYU is that I've fallen in love with some girl. The food was good though.
Well, the car got fixed and we went and drove and looked at apartments in a few places. My mother seems to think that I should move into the Bavarian. It's more expensive, but it's so nice... Roman Gardens is pretty much out, regrettably. It looks nice, but it only has 6 washers and dryers for a two ward complex, the kitchens are tiny, really really tiny, and the microwaves are significantly older than I am. For that matter, all of the appliances are. Other than that, they were really nice, and it's very well landscaped.
So, we're driving to the airport when she tells me that she really does not support me in getting a car because she thinks that it will distract me from my mission. You read that correctly, the reason that she doesn't want me to get a car is because she thinks it will distract me from my mission. I told her that was ridiculous, that if there were things that might distract me from a mission cars were not on that list. That answer didn't seem to satisfy her, but we were at the airport at that point, so the issue couldn't be canvassed any further. Leave it to my mother to tell me exactly how I should live my life (which complex to live in (she went way in depth on why the Bavarian was so much better than everywhere else), whether or not to get a car) and why, and then to jump out of the car to get on a plane before I can formulate an answer. I love her, but sometimes...
In other news, a company from Germany bought up some of the old Tektronix property in Oregon and they need people to translate everything from technical manuals to business letters to personal letters at a rate of 15USD/hour. It's not super likely, but it's possible I will be able to get on with them this summer between the time I get back and the time I go to work at Boyscout camp. Obviously, that would make my day like no other. Extremely good money for work I could do with my hands tied in my sleep. Well, the technical manuals might not be that easy, but the business letters would be a walk in the park. Anyway, I'll keep you posted on developments on that front.
In other, other news, I'm going to dinner with Jack Healey tomorrow! Feel the excitement emanating from me. Because it is emanating.
-Stephen
Monday, April 23, 2007
Mother
So, my mother is coming into town later today. She's only staying until tomorrow night when I drop her off at the airport, but yeah. It's kind of exciting, although I'm not really sure how she's dealing with everything. I mean, we haven't actually physically seen each other since early March, and we haven't had any kind of deep, meaningful conversation since I came out to her about two weeks ago. For my mother and I, that's pretty abnormal.
Anyway, she's told me that she would be interested in meeting you, so if any of you are hanging around before heroes, you might just get to meet my mother. Umn, if that's OK with all of you, that is. Obviously, if it's not, just tell me and it won't happen. You don't even have to comment if you're not comfortable with it, you can e-mail me (it's on my profile).
Anyway, between not having slept this last night because I was writing an essay that's due in about two hours (and it's damned good, if I do say so myself), my mother coming, and a final that I'm only about 80% ready for, or maybe even only 60% ready for, coming up very very soon, I'm just feeling enough pressure to blog about it. Good luck to everybody with an early morning final today!
-Stephen
Anyway, she's told me that she would be interested in meeting you, so if any of you are hanging around before heroes, you might just get to meet my mother. Umn, if that's OK with all of you, that is. Obviously, if it's not, just tell me and it won't happen. You don't even have to comment if you're not comfortable with it, you can e-mail me (it's on my profile).
Anyway, between not having slept this last night because I was writing an essay that's due in about two hours (and it's damned good, if I do say so myself), my mother coming, and a final that I'm only about 80% ready for, or maybe even only 60% ready for, coming up very very soon, I'm just feeling enough pressure to blog about it. Good luck to everybody with an early morning final today!
-Stephen
Saturday, April 21, 2007
On My Week
I don't even know where to start, so I guess I'll just type something and use that as the beginning. Tuesday night, I hung out with a whole bunch of people from the MoHo blogosphere, and it was a real blast. I felt good about myself, and happy, and I just had a really good time. And then there was this kind of silent period. Nothing Happened. I was OK with that, for a day or two. I needed to focus on my studies and catch up on some things, and it was overall not a bad thing. But. When Friday came and the extent of the contact I'd had with anybody that lived more than 500 but less than 20,000 feet away that didn't have something to do with the alternative commencement was a brief message on my facebook wall, I was more than a little worried. Had I made somebody angry? Was I just not cool enough to hang out with everybody? Was I somehow defective in terms of my new friends?
See, I have this thing about calling people without anything to talk about. There are very few people that I really feel comfortable calling just to shoot the breeze. Especially when it's hit and miss with who's taking a final and really doesn't want their phone to ring or what. So I was kind of a recluse. I just curled up in my little ball and read about all the fun stuff that everybody else was doing that they wrote about. And I wondered some more. Had I made the right decision in telling UO that I wouldn't be joining them in the fall? Why was everybody else enjoying waffles and giant pop-tarts and stuff while I was just sitting at home on the couch with textbooks? And I mean, you can't just ask people why you're getting left out. If you even are getting left out, for that matter, and it's not just a figment of your imagination.
The reasonable conclusion to draw is that it's an oversight. People either just make an honest mistake and forget to call you, or they conclude that you must be busy with something else more important. But, when we're feeling left out, we don't come to the reasonable conclusions. I guess I shouldn't say "we" I should say "I". I tried to convince myself of the reasonable conclusions. I had seen very little evidence that could even be construed as people absolutely loathing me, and it wouldn't make any sense at all for me to just conclude that they did. But, I decided that that had to be it. I must have taken an argument too far, or not been outgoing enough, or let an awkward situation get too awkward, or let my unreserved side out for too long.
Despite my best efforts, I convinced myself that the reason nobody was calling me and everybody was having fun without me was that they didn't like having me around. Forcing myself on them would have, of course, only made matters worse. So there I was, sitting on my couch, believing that nobody wanted to do anything with me, and not wanting to be clingy and make matters worse, I didn't do anything about it.
Friday night, I called my friend Kara and we had a nice, long conversation about how she was the only person that called me with any regularity. She was able to (kind of) convince me that I wasn't as bad as all that, and that it was OK. I went for a long walk, and I almost called on Drex, but it was late and I figured he'd be asleep. Besides, I didn't have anything to say anyway. I was just feeling dejected. So I walked back to my apartment and went to sleep instead.
Saturday was a little different, but not too much in the beginning. I woke up around noon, and went for another walk. Once again, I almost called on Drex, but without anything to say it seemed like I was only creating more potential for an awkward situation. I went home again, and I saw on my facebook it said that I was invited to a Mean Girls and Boba party. I was relieved and excited, and I confirmed my attendance. Then I looked at housing options for the coming fall. I think that I may live at Roman Gardens, but I haven't completely decided yet.
Then I walked around the far east side, because I don't do that very often, and I ran into Hidden. He took me to see the boyscout museum, and I was really excited, but it was closed. <./tear> Anyway, I won't bore you with the details of the walk. 7:45(ish) came around and we went and chilled with Drex for a while before the party, and I felt vindicated. There was nothing to hint that I had done something to make him mad, and nothing to hint that I had done something to make anybody at the party mad. In fact, it was a right party. Had a great time. I think everybody there did too.
I guess the moral of the story is that I need to call people more. Calling on people can be majorly awkward if they're in the middle of something important, but just calling shouldn't be that bad. I'm making it a personal goal to not let this week repeat itself, and the next time I'm feeling left out, I'm going to call somebody and do something about it. I think that wanting to hang out with friends more often than once every four days isn't unreasonable, so that's what I'll do. If you get a phone call from me in the next little while saying, "Hey, are you doing anything tonight?" or something like that, don't assume that I want to go out on a big date or anything. It just means that I'm tired of studying and want to get out and do something.
If anybody actually read that all the way to the end, thanks.
-Stephen.
See, I have this thing about calling people without anything to talk about. There are very few people that I really feel comfortable calling just to shoot the breeze. Especially when it's hit and miss with who's taking a final and really doesn't want their phone to ring or what. So I was kind of a recluse. I just curled up in my little ball and read about all the fun stuff that everybody else was doing that they wrote about. And I wondered some more. Had I made the right decision in telling UO that I wouldn't be joining them in the fall? Why was everybody else enjoying waffles and giant pop-tarts and stuff while I was just sitting at home on the couch with textbooks? And I mean, you can't just ask people why you're getting left out. If you even are getting left out, for that matter, and it's not just a figment of your imagination.
The reasonable conclusion to draw is that it's an oversight. People either just make an honest mistake and forget to call you, or they conclude that you must be busy with something else more important. But, when we're feeling left out, we don't come to the reasonable conclusions. I guess I shouldn't say "we" I should say "I". I tried to convince myself of the reasonable conclusions. I had seen very little evidence that could even be construed as people absolutely loathing me, and it wouldn't make any sense at all for me to just conclude that they did. But, I decided that that had to be it. I must have taken an argument too far, or not been outgoing enough, or let an awkward situation get too awkward, or let my unreserved side out for too long.
Despite my best efforts, I convinced myself that the reason nobody was calling me and everybody was having fun without me was that they didn't like having me around. Forcing myself on them would have, of course, only made matters worse. So there I was, sitting on my couch, believing that nobody wanted to do anything with me, and not wanting to be clingy and make matters worse, I didn't do anything about it.
Friday night, I called my friend Kara and we had a nice, long conversation about how she was the only person that called me with any regularity. She was able to (kind of) convince me that I wasn't as bad as all that, and that it was OK. I went for a long walk, and I almost called on Drex, but it was late and I figured he'd be asleep. Besides, I didn't have anything to say anyway. I was just feeling dejected. So I walked back to my apartment and went to sleep instead.
Saturday was a little different, but not too much in the beginning. I woke up around noon, and went for another walk. Once again, I almost called on Drex, but without anything to say it seemed like I was only creating more potential for an awkward situation. I went home again, and I saw on my facebook it said that I was invited to a Mean Girls and Boba party. I was relieved and excited, and I confirmed my attendance. Then I looked at housing options for the coming fall. I think that I may live at Roman Gardens, but I haven't completely decided yet.
Then I walked around the far east side, because I don't do that very often, and I ran into Hidden. He took me to see the boyscout museum, and I was really excited, but it was closed. <./tear> Anyway, I won't bore you with the details of the walk. 7:45(ish) came around and we went and chilled with Drex for a while before the party, and I felt vindicated. There was nothing to hint that I had done something to make him mad, and nothing to hint that I had done something to make anybody at the party mad. In fact, it was a right party. Had a great time. I think everybody there did too.
I guess the moral of the story is that I need to call people more. Calling on people can be majorly awkward if they're in the middle of something important, but just calling shouldn't be that bad. I'm making it a personal goal to not let this week repeat itself, and the next time I'm feeling left out, I'm going to call somebody and do something about it. I think that wanting to hang out with friends more often than once every four days isn't unreasonable, so that's what I'll do. If you get a phone call from me in the next little while saying, "Hey, are you doing anything tonight?" or something like that, don't assume that I want to go out on a big date or anything. It just means that I'm tired of studying and want to get out and do something.
If anybody actually read that all the way to the end, thanks.
-Stephen.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Skiving and Touching
So, last night I had about a billion things to do, and I didn't really do any of them. I mean, I kind of worked on a few of them, and I did get a little bit done, but not nearly as much as I should have. I was instead actively engaged in skiving off. No, that's not dirty, it means to do pretty much nothing, and avoid working on things. At about 6:00, gimple and I started talking about the spring block party. Then at about 7:00, he dropped off facebook, and I managed to get a little bit of work done. Then at 8:00, I got a call, and I went up to the spring block party with Brady, Calvin, and Gimple. We ran into Stephalumpugus, and the Jet too. Well, as cool as the party was, we left and went to go watch a movie at Steph's house. I missed an Alternative Commencement meeting to hang out. Fortunately, it wasn't a super important one, and I don't regret it. I'm still getting everything done that I need to on that front.
Now, more about that touching. See, I normally don't make a habit out of touching girls. I mean, I've done it a few times in the past, but I much prefer touching... well... anyway... Touching is such a complicated thing. There's platonic touching, like being crammed together in a car or most touching; then there's loving touching, like a mother-son hug; that's not to mention anything of caressing touching, like hand holding and cuddling. Well, last night, Steph and I interdigitated, and it kind of confused me, because it wasn't really caressing touching. I mean, we went through the motions, I put my arm around her, and held her other hand, and we did the whole thumb-caress-thing. I mean, all things considered, it was some pretty intense hand holding! But, it wasn't really the same as other times that I've touched girls. In the past they've always seen it as a sign of commitment, which meant that it was pretty much time to end things. But this was a different kind. It wasn't exactly like platonic touching, the kind that just happens in normal activity, and it wasn't like the loving touching of the mother son hug. It just sort of, was... I need to come up with a new classification of touching. As a side note, I think I may have made Brady somewhat uncomfortable, because with my arm around Steph's shoulder I needed somewhere to put my hand, and his arm was sort of there. To me, that was platonic touching; it was just a natural part of us being crammed so close together, but yeah...
Anyway, I'm going to take today as an opportunity to do all those important things like laundry, more complicated cooking, baking, nail cutting, but nothing really super important. I might just do what ATP is doing an curl up in a ball and watch movies once I finish everything else...
-Stephen
P.S.
Brett's getting interviewed by Newsweek!
P.P.S.
Brett will be called by his middle name in the Newsweek article. Brett has never gone by his middle name, ever. He has expressed confidence in his safety in regard to this now.
Now, more about that touching. See, I normally don't make a habit out of touching girls. I mean, I've done it a few times in the past, but I much prefer touching... well... anyway... Touching is such a complicated thing. There's platonic touching, like being crammed together in a car or most touching; then there's loving touching, like a mother-son hug; that's not to mention anything of caressing touching, like hand holding and cuddling. Well, last night, Steph and I interdigitated, and it kind of confused me, because it wasn't really caressing touching. I mean, we went through the motions, I put my arm around her, and held her other hand, and we did the whole thumb-caress-thing. I mean, all things considered, it was some pretty intense hand holding! But, it wasn't really the same as other times that I've touched girls. In the past they've always seen it as a sign of commitment, which meant that it was pretty much time to end things. But this was a different kind. It wasn't exactly like platonic touching, the kind that just happens in normal activity, and it wasn't like the loving touching of the mother son hug. It just sort of, was... I need to come up with a new classification of touching. As a side note, I think I may have made Brady somewhat uncomfortable, because with my arm around Steph's shoulder I needed somewhere to put my hand, and his arm was sort of there. To me, that was platonic touching; it was just a natural part of us being crammed so close together, but yeah...
Anyway, I'm going to take today as an opportunity to do all those important things like laundry, more complicated cooking, baking, nail cutting, but nothing really super important. I might just do what ATP is doing an curl up in a ball and watch movies once I finish everything else...
-Stephen
P.S.
Brett's getting interviewed by Newsweek!
P.P.S.
Brett will be called by his middle name in the Newsweek article. Brett has never gone by his middle name, ever. He has expressed confidence in his safety in regard to this now.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Bishops, Evergeen, Missions, Newspapers...
So, I talked to my bishop on Sunday. It was the first time that I had mentioned my same sex attraction to an ecclesiastical leader. I'd like to say that it was a wonderful, testimony building experience, but in all actuality, it wasn't. His initial advice wasn't all that bad. He said, "Well, it's important to realize that even though we don't just forget about prophets, President Hinckley is speaking directly to you, President Kimball wasn't." referring to the discrepancy between a certain passage in The Miracle of Forgiveness and what President Hinckley has said.
Then, it got to be a little less fun. He suggested that I think about participating in Evergreen or repairative therapy so that I could figure out why I was "over compensating." I wasn't really sure what to say to this, but I said that I would look into it. So I looked at Evergreen's website... I was less than impressed, I won't lie. The way that they represent completely unproven theories as facts is... upsetting. So... I don't know, it's something I'll think about. I understand that there's a large, strong group in Portland that I can join, or at least talk to. But I don't know.
Then we talked about priesthood, and missions. In spite of everything, he says that he doesn't see any reason that I couldn't serve an honorable, full time mission, as long as I'm serious about it. He also says that I'll need to prepare myself to resist temptations that most other missionaries don't have. So I'm back to square one on the mission deal. I'll fill you in. I still don't know if it's something that I want to do. I mean, obviously it's advisable for most people, but I just don't know... Two years is a very long time. It's a big commitment... Anyway, I think that I agree strongly with Drex. The mission is not for everybody, but preparation for a mission is. So, I guess, for now I just need to prepare for said mission, and I can decide when I'm older...
Oh, and Brett was in the newspaper! http://www.sltrib.com/news/ci_5684555
-Stephen
Then, it got to be a little less fun. He suggested that I think about participating in Evergreen or repairative therapy so that I could figure out why I was "over compensating." I wasn't really sure what to say to this, but I said that I would look into it. So I looked at Evergreen's website... I was less than impressed, I won't lie. The way that they represent completely unproven theories as facts is... upsetting. So... I don't know, it's something I'll think about. I understand that there's a large, strong group in Portland that I can join, or at least talk to. But I don't know.
Then we talked about priesthood, and missions. In spite of everything, he says that he doesn't see any reason that I couldn't serve an honorable, full time mission, as long as I'm serious about it. He also says that I'll need to prepare myself to resist temptations that most other missionaries don't have. So I'm back to square one on the mission deal. I'll fill you in. I still don't know if it's something that I want to do. I mean, obviously it's advisable for most people, but I just don't know... Two years is a very long time. It's a big commitment... Anyway, I think that I agree strongly with Drex. The mission is not for everybody, but preparation for a mission is. So, I guess, for now I just need to prepare for said mission, and I can decide when I'm older...
Oh, and Brett was in the newspaper! http://www.sltrib.com/news/ci_5684555
-Stephen
Friday, April 13, 2007
Pretty Much Brilliant, and Coming Out to my Mother
So, for the record of any interested parties (though I have no idea who, if anybody outside of those who have commented and a couple others, reads my blog) Calvin and I are just friends. And that's all we're going to be. I was pretty much reading way the heck too much into everything, and after my conversation with Hidden, Drex, and Salad tonight, I thought that I had been making him extremely uncomfortable and awkward. Calvin and I have talked though, and (I think) we're good. A purely platonic relationship is definitely what's in his best interests, and I will not do anything that is not going to be good for him.
I don't know if I'll turn my attentions elsewhere before the end of the semester. There's not much time left, and I think I might just rather not think about it. I don't know. It's late, and I'll sleep on the issue.
So, coming out to my mother. Once again, for all interested parties, I came out to my mother Wednesday morning. This was something I had been dreading, and not planning on doing until I no longer required her financial support. But, as a part of my recent paradigm shift, it became a necessity. Tuesday night, I was praying about whether I should transfer to UO, like I'd been planning, or stay at BYU. It was my first vocal prayer in a long time. In fact, I can't remember the last one before that. But the answer I got was very clear. I needed to talk to my mother, and I needed to tell her about what I had found here, and tell her everything she needed to know to help me make that judgement.
So I did. And I was scared. See, also on Tuesday night, my good friend, umn... we'll call her "Kara" had been cut off by her mother for converting to catholicism. It's something we both had been living in fear of for a while. I told my mother that I had been praying about the transfer, and that God had told me to talk to her, and to tell her everything. She was surprised there were things she didn't know, but she wanted to know what. So I said, "Mom, I'm SSA." "What's SSA?" "Same Sex Attracted." "What's the difference between being S-S-A and being G-A-Y?" "SSA is the church approved term." "I see. Are you sure?" "Yes." She asked me that question two or three more times over the course of our conversation. She wanted to know when, and how, I planned on telling my father, and I told her I didn't. We talked about Drex and Salad a lot, and that seemed to alleviate most of the issues. I told her that my older brother, we'll call him Harry, already knew. She was surprise to hear that he had cried about it when I told him. She didn't cry. She didn't cut my tuition money. She didn't take any action against me at all. In fact, she was OK with it.
See, my two older brothers had been disowned and written out of wills and everything for various issues, ranging from Drugs to Premarital Sex, to Incarceration. I'd expected a similar reaction, which I probably would have gotten from my father, but it all worked out. Anyway, I'd deliberately timed the conversation such that we would only be able to talk for about ten minutes, and then she'd have some time to think and process everything that I'd told her. She said that she still loved me, and that she understood that nothing had been changed.
Overall, it was a liberating, testimony building experience, and I am glad that God helped me come to the decision to talk to my mother. The Paradigm shift is still running, and we'll see where it takes me, but right now, everything is looking up, and I am just going to keep rolling with it until it stops. I like the direction it's taking me.
-Stephen
I don't know if I'll turn my attentions elsewhere before the end of the semester. There's not much time left, and I think I might just rather not think about it. I don't know. It's late, and I'll sleep on the issue.
So, coming out to my mother. Once again, for all interested parties, I came out to my mother Wednesday morning. This was something I had been dreading, and not planning on doing until I no longer required her financial support. But, as a part of my recent paradigm shift, it became a necessity. Tuesday night, I was praying about whether I should transfer to UO, like I'd been planning, or stay at BYU. It was my first vocal prayer in a long time. In fact, I can't remember the last one before that. But the answer I got was very clear. I needed to talk to my mother, and I needed to tell her about what I had found here, and tell her everything she needed to know to help me make that judgement.
So I did. And I was scared. See, also on Tuesday night, my good friend, umn... we'll call her "Kara" had been cut off by her mother for converting to catholicism. It's something we both had been living in fear of for a while. I told my mother that I had been praying about the transfer, and that God had told me to talk to her, and to tell her everything. She was surprised there were things she didn't know, but she wanted to know what. So I said, "Mom, I'm SSA." "What's SSA?" "Same Sex Attracted." "What's the difference between being S-S-A and being G-A-Y?" "SSA is the church approved term." "I see. Are you sure?" "Yes." She asked me that question two or three more times over the course of our conversation. She wanted to know when, and how, I planned on telling my father, and I told her I didn't. We talked about Drex and Salad a lot, and that seemed to alleviate most of the issues. I told her that my older brother, we'll call him Harry, already knew. She was surprise to hear that he had cried about it when I told him. She didn't cry. She didn't cut my tuition money. She didn't take any action against me at all. In fact, she was OK with it.
See, my two older brothers had been disowned and written out of wills and everything for various issues, ranging from Drugs to Premarital Sex, to Incarceration. I'd expected a similar reaction, which I probably would have gotten from my father, but it all worked out. Anyway, I'd deliberately timed the conversation such that we would only be able to talk for about ten minutes, and then she'd have some time to think and process everything that I'd told her. She said that she still loved me, and that she understood that nothing had been changed.
Overall, it was a liberating, testimony building experience, and I am glad that God helped me come to the decision to talk to my mother. The Paradigm shift is still running, and we'll see where it takes me, but right now, everything is looking up, and I am just going to keep rolling with it until it stops. I like the direction it's taking me.
-Stephen
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
What an Incredible Day!
Gosh, so many things have happened in the past 24 hours... I don't even know where to start. I guess I'll tackle 'em in chronological order.
We've got Ralph Nader for alternative commencement! Talk about awesome, eh? The only problem is, we need to raise a little money. Like 15,000 dollars... but yeah... my usual appeal of, "if anybody wants to help, let me know" goes out.
I talked to my mother today. As in to say, my mother and I had the conversation that I've been putting off for the past years. She took it pretty well, I think, and she agreed that it were best to keep it from my father indefinitely. She didn't disown me, or cut off my tuition money, or anything. She seemed a little confused by the fact that I wanted to stay in the church, at least for now, rather than abandon everything I've spent my life building and go live a new free lifestyle. We also talked about whether or not I should return to BYU, and I'm starting to think that I should. You see, the MoHo community here is good and strong, and it's a support network that isn't going to be encouraging me to go out and have sex with everybody. Instead, you guys gently influence me to be the best that I can be, to be both Mormon and Homosexual. Even if I pursue relationships with guys here, it still will not be the same as it would be at University of Oregon. I think that, I'm starting to see that this place isn't as bad as I thought it was, and at least deserves another try. I have all of you to thank for that, and for (unknowingly) giving me the strength to talk to my mother.
And then, when I went to the library to chill with Calvin, Hidden, and Drex, I learned the most amazing news ever. The Honor Code has been changed, and made into a form that is much less like the Gestapo, and much more like a real rule/law that can be worked with. The regulations are now much clearer, and the honor code can no longer be used to just rain down random judgement and hellfire. I'm just so excited. Happy like you don't even know. It's been a fantastic day. Really, truly. I wish all days went as well as today. I'd be the happiest, luckiest guy in the world. And even now, I'm still feeling pretty good. Thanks everyone.
-Stephen
P.S.
I've had a few random thoughts running through my head, and I've taken a little time to process. That said, this is still going to come across as something of a brain dump...
Unless otherwise stated, I think I will be returning to BYU in either Fall 2007 or Winter 2008. I can hardly wait to see all of you again at that time.
I won't be leaving on the 23rd as planned. Instead, we're looking more at the 26th, or maybe even the 27th, because my mommy wants to see Ralph Nader as much as I do. That means that I will be there for Heroes on the 23rd!
We'll have to do something fun after finals, like a closing social of sorts or something.
The Mattis FHE might only be monthly, but what do you think about having our own local Mattis-esque FHE? Obviously, the Mattises wouldn't be there, but I don't see any reason that we, who are in some cases almost like family anyway, can't have our own FHE. What do you think?
-Stephen
We've got Ralph Nader for alternative commencement! Talk about awesome, eh? The only problem is, we need to raise a little money. Like 15,000 dollars... but yeah... my usual appeal of, "if anybody wants to help, let me know" goes out.
I talked to my mother today. As in to say, my mother and I had the conversation that I've been putting off for the past years. She took it pretty well, I think, and she agreed that it were best to keep it from my father indefinitely. She didn't disown me, or cut off my tuition money, or anything. She seemed a little confused by the fact that I wanted to stay in the church, at least for now, rather than abandon everything I've spent my life building and go live a new free lifestyle. We also talked about whether or not I should return to BYU, and I'm starting to think that I should. You see, the MoHo community here is good and strong, and it's a support network that isn't going to be encouraging me to go out and have sex with everybody. Instead, you guys gently influence me to be the best that I can be, to be both Mormon and Homosexual. Even if I pursue relationships with guys here, it still will not be the same as it would be at University of Oregon. I think that, I'm starting to see that this place isn't as bad as I thought it was, and at least deserves another try. I have all of you to thank for that, and for (unknowingly) giving me the strength to talk to my mother.
And then, when I went to the library to chill with Calvin, Hidden, and Drex, I learned the most amazing news ever. The Honor Code has been changed, and made into a form that is much less like the Gestapo, and much more like a real rule/law that can be worked with. The regulations are now much clearer, and the honor code can no longer be used to just rain down random judgement and hellfire. I'm just so excited. Happy like you don't even know. It's been a fantastic day. Really, truly. I wish all days went as well as today. I'd be the happiest, luckiest guy in the world. And even now, I'm still feeling pretty good. Thanks everyone.
-Stephen
P.S.
I've had a few random thoughts running through my head, and I've taken a little time to process. That said, this is still going to come across as something of a brain dump...
Unless otherwise stated, I think I will be returning to BYU in either Fall 2007 or Winter 2008. I can hardly wait to see all of you again at that time.
I won't be leaving on the 23rd as planned. Instead, we're looking more at the 26th, or maybe even the 27th, because my mommy wants to see Ralph Nader as much as I do. That means that I will be there for Heroes on the 23rd!
We'll have to do something fun after finals, like a closing social of sorts or something.
The Mattis FHE might only be monthly, but what do you think about having our own local Mattis-esque FHE? Obviously, the Mattises wouldn't be there, but I don't see any reason that we, who are in some cases almost like family anyway, can't have our own FHE. What do you think?
-Stephen
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