A Bomb-Diggity Blog Entry -no really. Read on.

The following is not a paid advertisement for sham-wow. It is, however, the transcript of an email I sent to my sister. Yes, I'm giving you all access to something intensely personal and highly private. (Aren't redundant adjectives annoying? "highly private"? Doesn't private say it well enough? There I go, proof-reading my own work. I just want you all to know that I mean what I say. Not really, but you know what I mean ...to ....say? Anyway, read on. It's the email now.

Subject:A must read
Not a "musty" read. Anyway, this is from the archives of BYUI devotionals. I was there for this one. Sister Wendy Bone is something like, such as, uh, I guess (am I annoying you yet) the head of the dance dept. at BYUI. She gave this awesome talk (I was there when she gave it) that makes me laugh and inspires the heck out of me. And I could use that kind of inspiration, trust me. I really should blog this. Bravo Alicia. You just unintentionally gave me an idea for a bomb-diggity blog entry. In fact, that will be the title. Kings to you Fernand.

I'm attaching the talk, because I know you'll appreciate it. Love it as I loved it, and there will be joy.

Until our next interlude,
Cheers.
Steve

And now (drum-roll) a bit of THE TALK by Sister Wendy Bone:

I love to laugh, though my sense of humor may be somewhat warped. I enjoy clips from America’s Funniest Home Video’s where adults and children trip, fall, and get hit in the head, resulting in an embarrassing moment. It always makes me laugh out loud. My husband says I shouldn’t laugh when I see BYU students slip and fall on the ice, but I can’t seem to squelch my giggling.

One winter day a few years ago, I was getting out of the SUV I drive to accommodate my six children. Now, SUVs are large and there was a decent first step from the car door to the frosty ground below. I slid across the seat, shifting all of my weight onto the supporting leg. Oblivious to the glossy sheen below me, my foot made contact with the icy surface, and the ground began to move. I tried digging in with my heels in an effort to unearth enough traction to prevent a stumbling fall on the polished city street, but before I knew it, I was treating the spectators around me with a delightful rendition of the crazy leg dance; you know the one, where you dramatically shuffle in place and swing your arms with an odd expression of anxiety on your face. You look absolutely ridiculous until gravity prevails, control is lost, and you find yourself on the ground, void of any remaining dignity. Now while this was happening, I was laughing uncontrollably, which made it even harder to maintain my balance or plan for a graceful landing. In addition, to provide the perfect climactic ending, I had stopped by Jamba Juice on the way to work to pick up a smoothie, and well, you can see where this is going. As my weight veered back, my arms were thrown forward instinctively which released the full force of the smoothie into the air. As I landed face up I could see my Orange Sunrise smoothie, filled with fruit and cream and topped off with an immunity boost, orbiting through the sky above me. As quickly as it happened the performance was over and I lay in the parking lot covered in my breakfast and laughing to myself thinking, boy I wish one of those people watching me had a video camera.

Sometimes, brother and sisters, we just need to laugh. Although I was a little sore the next day from the landing, I often think about that slippery fall, and I can’t help but giggle and smile, especially when I consider how ridiculous I looked. We are meant to have joy on this earth, though I don’t think a literal fall is what we must experience when we read in the scriptures, “Adam fell that men might be and men are that they might have joy.”

Aint that awesome? For the full talk (and it's so worth reading) go to:
http://www.byui.edu/Presentations/Transcripts/Devotionals/2008_10_14_Bone.htm

My Quirkiness

Most "tag" posts are really long and almost tedious in their nature. This one has only 6 points to it, and it allows for some real creative sharing that is both honest and fun to write.
So thank you, my dear sister, for tagging me.

Quirk #1:
I get all "up-in-arms" when it comes to debate about word origins/definitions with uninformed people. There's a person that I know who is a self-declared expert in all areas known to man. He has, after all, graduated from high school. He debated the origin of the word "maverick" with me, insisting that it means the same thing as "steer" and that that was the primary definition. WRONG! Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Were there any other words in there you'd like to debate, you young jackanape?
FYI, a maverick is:
-an unbranded range animal (especially a stray calf); belongs to the first person who puts a brand on it
-someone who exhibits great independence in thought and action
-adjective: independent in behavior or thought
Who cares about word origin when you've got the definition wrong in the first place.
Imbecile -I can define that for you in three words: a first, middle, and last name.

Quirk #2: I hate having a sheet between me and my comforter. It feels all restrictive and incomfortable when it gets rumpled and scrunched.

Quirk #3: I get annoyed by extra noise. TV by itself, fine. Guitar by itself, fine. The two mixed, AGGRAVATION.

Quirk #4: I don't like other people planning my meals. I'm not really a picky eater, but I like having a bunch of options and being free to pick. It's a freedom I expect as an American. I need to get over this.

Quirk #5: I turn lights off when they don't need to be on -I always notice, my roommates seldom do, and then we end up having to pay for going over on utilities. Grr.

Quirk #6: I sometimes get the urge to listen to my country CDs, but not that often, and I don't usually like country music.

Do you all still love me?

When Can I Stop Counting?

"I'm 37!"
"What?"
"I'm 37, I'm not old."
"Well, I can't just call you 'man'."
"You could say Dennis."

I keep thinking of this scene from Monty Python's ridiculous movie, emphasizing the point that even 37 is "not old".

I've just upped my annum count to 27. Is there a point when I don't have to celebrate anymore? I really don't care to celebrate the day. I mean, I do expect it to be a good day, and won't refuse being taken out to dinner, or what not, but I really hate to be celebrated.

This year, I had more people call, text, email, or say Happy Birthday more times than any other year ever in my life. I felt remembered, which was cool. But around mid-afternoon I was ready to have the day overwith. I felt like Scrooge "Every idiot who goes about with a [happy birthday] on his lips, should be boiled in his own pudding and buried with a sprig of holly through his heart!"
Maybe a trio of spectres will show up and help me mend my birthday-hating attitude. If they don't, I'll know that I'm perfectly justified.
In the photo above, my cheek is poofed out. I didn't know why, until I studied the picture. There's a Reese's cup wrapper in my hand. Foolish indulgences. Birthdays are evil! My hips were trying to tell me that the whole time, and now they're saying, I told you so you 27-year-old sap!
That's when I pull the age card, and remind them that they're just as old. That shuts 'em up. But the sad thing is, HIPS DON'T LIE, darn it.

Sick, sick, sick

I really was. Tuesday night, I was watching a movie with my roommates, and I kept complaining about how cold it felt in our living room. I was freezing! Everyone else seemed to handle the temperature just fine.
It never crossed my mind that it was just me, until I went to bed. I couldn't stop shaking, and I couldn't get warm. I shivered and shivered until I couldn't take it any longer. I got up and took a hot bath. That helped, but getting out of bed also made me realize how gross I felt; I was very dizzy, nauseous, and my hands and feet were completely pale and my nerves were tingling. And then the headache started.
I couldn't sleep. After about an hour, I finally drifted off and found myself in the midst of a dream. I was in a classroom at school. One of my instructors was teaching a new technique of mapping outcrops on a geologic map. Once I'd really gotten the hang of it, I woke up. Don't ask me now what it's all about, or why it was even useful.
My bed was no longer comfortable. I sought refuge on the couch, still fearing that the cold living room air was going to bring on the chills again.
I turned to the television to take my mind off the upset stomach, and the new symptom of a sore throat.
The election results were all over the news. I've never stayed up to really follow it all, but this year I did. Somewhere around 5:30am I dozed off soundly until around 8am.
Waking up was bad. I was sick, tired, achy, and couldn't really leave the house.
I had to turn in a lab for one of my classes, or I would lose points, so I bundled up the best I could (it had snowed a few inches) and headed off to campus.
I explained my situation to my professors. Am I the only one who hates doing that? Even when you're legitimately too sick to do anything, you still feel pangs of guilt for using it as an excuse? I don't know why, but I always do.
The rest of the day went like this:
sleep, watch TV, force myself to eat something, use the bathroom, repeat.
Toward the end of the day, I was feeling a lot better, though still pretty achy and tired.
I'm feeling a lot better today. On the way to the library, I relished the moment; I felt good enough to be outside and walk around and breathe fresh air!
This really hasn't been a very positive post -but it's honest. Isn't that what my readers are seeking? Don't thank me, really.

All Hallow's Blast of an Evening

Halloween was awesome. Tom and I met some new friends at a service project, and we decided to merge our plans for Halloween night.
Here's the agenda:
1) carve amazing jack-o-lanterns
2) go eat at the Backyard (an amazingly good n' greasy burger place)
3) go get into costumes
4) go reverse trick-or-treating
5) watch The Ghost and Mr. Chicken

We really wanted to go to the Haunted Mill too, but we just couldn't squeeze all the awesome ideas into one night. We still had a blast, and the dino-jammies made their second debut, combined with super-hero capes made from a Spiderman tablecloth from the party section at Walmart (this is a super cool and cheap costume idea -just FYI).
These girls were a lot of fun.