LOST

So yesterday, instead of writing my paper that was due today, I spent most of the day watching Lost. I'm so addicted- I started watching it online and now I can't stop. I'm on season three now- I just watched the episode where Locke blows up the submarine. Pretty intense stuff.
I've decided that procrastinating makes me work more efficiently- I watched Lost all day instead of doing homework, and then I was forced to finish my eight page paper in a matter of only a few hours- and I managed to do it. Everything worked out perfectly.

Palin vs. Rasmussen

So every February in the great state of Alaska hard core snowmobilers gather for the Iron Dog- a 2000 mile race across the state. The defending champion (and four time winner) is Todd Palin, husband of Vice Presidential hopeful Sarah Palin (who I'm not very fond of). Well, this year he's going to have some tough competition from none other than my own father, and snowmobiling legend, Bret Rasmussen. GO DAD!!!

bridge jumping

I went bridge jumping for the first time this summer with Mu and Nae. Notice the sexy farmer's tan.

buddy

One of the gaurds at the jail called me "buddy" the other day. It was very strange. Buddy is a name that's appropriate for nephews or your best friend's kid brother, but not so much for grown men at work who you don't really know. Apparently, though, I don't really look much like a grown man (despite being 6 foot 3 inches tall). Today at work I mentioned that I'll be starting school on the 25th and one of my coworkers asked if I'll be in the 8th grade. Maybe I'll grow a beard- that should make me look older (and uglier I suppose).
Anyway, I kind of like it when the lady at Jonie's Deli (I think her name is Jonie) calls me "hun". I guess it's kind of endearing. But you know, I probably wouldn't care if she called me "buddy" either. However, I think I would care a LOT if the jail guard called me "hun" (this particular guard, anyway). Maybe the name isn't as important as the name giver.
By the way, Jonie (the one at Jonie's Deli) makes the best garlic cheese burgers in the entire world.

sneak away to the philippines

Ryan snuck away to the Philippines early Sunday morning. Actually, it was a pretty public event. It put any LDS missionary farewell or homecoming I've ever seen to shame. Anyway, just as Britney Spears has foretold, he can sneak away to the Philippines, but we will still want a piece of him. At least there won't be pictures of his derriere in the magazines (although, some may show up on facebook).

scrambled french toast

This morning I woke up craving French toast, but wasn't really looking forward to waiting for each piece of toast to cook, and getting my hands all eggy from dipping the bread. Then I had this really great idea- just scramble the French toast. It makes cooking eggs a hell of a lot easier so I imagined it should work with French toast as well. I tore up 5 slices of whole wheat bread, cracked 4 eggs over it, and poured in some milk. I stirred it around with a spoon (which saved me from having eggy hands) and dumped it into a frying pan coated with melted butter. I cooked it just like I would scrambled eggs and ate it with maple syrup. The whole process only took about 10 minutes and I never once had to dip my hands into a bowl of eggs. Superb. Now, I am aware that I should probably refrain from eating anything with cholesterol in it until Christmas next year, but I think that the whole wheat bread must make up for some of that somewhere.

funeral planning

My mom got a new job- she's a funeral planner. I guess it's kind of like being a wedding planner- only different.

the pinoy photo shoot

My brown friends (the pinoys) invited me to a photo shoot last week for diversity reasons. Check it out:

marriage advice

Marriage advice from Nanny Balling (my super sassy great grandma who I absolutely love to pieces): Don't marry people because you feel sorry for them!!

Winking at the mirror

If you've never winked at yourself in the mirror, you should. I did once and discovered something new about myself- I have a mole on my right eyelid. I had never seen it before because I generally have both of my eyes open when I look at myself. I suppose that girls who wear eye shadow may be more aware of what their eyelids look like, but I would suspect that the majority of non-eye shadow wearing people don't. Check it out.

Actually this isn't a picture of my right eyelid, but I'm not good at winking and I have to hold my eyelid down in order to see the mole. It's just too awkward for picture taking.

Razzleberry Satin

This is what I ate for lunch yesterday:

Molly Brown

My family got a new puppy- her name is Molly Brown (originally it was Otis, but they changed it). She's just about the cutest darn thing I've seen in my entire life, but she has really sharp puppy teeth and she likes to bite.

Stealing Cookies

The other night while I was hanging out in the break room at the jail, one of my coworkers pointed out to me that there was a loose cookie in the vending machine. She also mentioned that there had been a loose Hershey bar too, but it had somehow managed to fall and she picked it up. She recommended that, if I were to give the vending machine a big shove, I may end up just as lucky as she. Well, at first I was hesitant- I've never stolen anything from a vending machine- and the fact that I was in the jail made it seem even more daring. I decided, though, that I wasn't really stealing- obviously somebody had paid for it, or it wouldn't be dangling there waiting to fall. I gave the vending machine a big shove (actually it more like two or three- it was a really heavy vending machine) and let it fall back to the ground. Then I ate my cookie in front of a class full of inmates (I would have loved to share but that is very much against jail rules).

Proportions

Apparently, I'm perfectly proportioned. On Christmas my family had a little measuring event. It turns out that my wingspan is 72 3/4 in. and my height is 73 in. Pretty good if you ask me.

Half-asses and breast baring turkeys

So I got myself a little summer job- it's actually kind of fun. I am a wagon driver at This is the Place Heritage Park. It's kind of a crazy place, but I like my job. I get to be outside with the horses all day and give rides to goofy people and their annoying children. Oh, and I have to wear a costume. Yesterday I drove a team of mules instead of horses. I've decided to place mules into the category of animals that I don't like. They're mean, ornery, stubborn, scared of everything that moves or makes noise, and they never get tired. They ran away from me three times yesterday. The first time was before I even caught them. I put up a bar across the front door of the barn so that I didn't have to actually shut the door, but so I could herd the mules into the barn and they couldn't get out. It turns out that, unlike horses, mules can crawl under things. I herded them in through the back door of the barn and a few seconds later they had crawled out the front door. Well, a little while later we got them herded back into the barn. We harnessed them and I drove them out of the barn to hook them up to the wagon. When I got to the wagon, my helper guy had disappeared. I couldn't hook then up to the wagon by myself, so I tried to just hold them there for a few minutes and wait for him to come help me. But before he came, a couple guys on riding lawnmowers started driving towards us. The mules went crazy and started running down the road. I held them as long as I could, but I just couldn't keep up. Pretty soon they were running through the apple orchard and eventually they got tangled up in an apple tree. Well, my helper finally showed up and we got the mules hitched to the wagon and drove them for a few hours. After we got them unhitched and were driving them back into the barn to unharness them, the mules got spooked again and took off running. We finally caught them and got everything taken care of, but I'll never view mules in the same light. I hope I never have to do anything with mules ever again. Mules may only be half-asses but I now have a much better understanding of why calling someone an "ass" is such a universal insult.

I kind of felt bad for my helper guy- I was trying to be a really decent guy and watch my language and everything, but those mules brought out the worst in me. I think that after a few days of trying to make a good impression, he was a little shocked to hear some of the things that came out of my mouth. Oh well, working with mules is like nothing I've ever done before and I hope I never do it again.

The mules aren't the only interesting things at the park. There's also a fat, old turkey that wobbles around the petting corral all day. It has rubbed all of the feathers off its breasts and walks around with a puffed up chest flaunting its bare breasts at the visitors. Its quite the animal.

Maryjane down the drain

I'm really excited because the title of this post rhymes! But that's beside the point. The other night at the jail the gaurds suddenly ended class and locked all of the prisoners up in their cells. Immediately the prisoners (it was ladies' night) came up with a story to explain the lock up. A new female prisoner had smuggled some dope into the jail with her. Well, she got scared that she would get caught and tried to flush it down the toilet. Some how, the gaurd found out and had all of the plumbing in the building turned off so that somebody could fish the dope out of the pipes (I don't know who would want that job). They decided to lock everybody up for the night to prove a point that you shouldn't smuggle drugs into the jail. Well, the story was entirely made up (well, maybe not entirely). The toilet in the classroom wasn't working so I think that's what led to the part about shutting off the plumbing in the entire building. I couldn't believe how quickly they formulated a whole story to explain the lock down. It only took a few seconds.

What really happened is that an officer had died at home that day and they brought in substitute gaurds so that any of the gaurds who wanted to grieve could go home for the night. I guess they thought that it would be best to keep everybody locked up.

Speaking of jail- there is an inmate who is desperate for a female penpal- any takers?

Stranded........again

I bet you can't guess what this ones about? Yup, that's right- I locked my keys in my car again. The second time in a two week period. I went to a concert in Park City (Nas, in case you were wondering). About half way through the concert I realized that I had my camera and my wallet and that was all. We grabbed a wire hanger from the coat check girls and attempted to break into my Jeep. I once had a friend who was able to break into it for me with a coat hanger so I didn't think it would be too difficult. Yeah right. The best part was as I was trying to work the wire in through the window a group of girls walked past us. They were pointing at us and talking amongst themselves as if they had just discovered two burglars breaking into someone's car. They hopped in a limo and as I approached the limo to ask the driver for some help, he rolled up his window and drove away. Well, a nice guy named Deep, or Deet, or Deeb, or something like that gave us a ride home. The next day I got a new key made and Jon took me back to Park City to pick up my Jeep. I really think that I must have offended whatever force out in the Universe is in charge of making fortune cookies come true, cuz my fortune cookie has done lost its fortune.

I love sugar

As a missionary in Georgia I learned how to eat grits with butter and salt (yes, it is something that must be learned- it is completely unnatural). This morning I made myself a bowl of grits for breakfast. I put in a spoonful of butter and was about to sprinkle salt on top when something inside of me began to protest. After a few moments of hesitation I reached on top of the fridge, grabbed the bag of sugar, and began pouring sugar into my grits. I know that many of my friends in Georgia would say that I ruined a good bowl of grits. To them I say- that was the best damn bowl of grits I've ever had.

My good fortune's run out

Last night I locked my keys in my car- on purpose. When I go into work I usually empty my pockets of everything I don't need- cell phone, chapstick, gum, etc. Everything that I can't take into the cells I have to lock up at the check in desk at the front of the jail, so I usually just leave as much in my car as I can. Last night I emptied my pockets the same as usual- cell phone, chapstick, spare change, but then I took out my keys too. I conciously thought to myself- "I don't need these, guess I'll leave 'em in the car"- I locked the door and shut it. I didn't think anything else of it until after work when I took my wallet out of my locker and started walking outside. Suddenly I realized "I don't have my keys!" and I remembered what I had done. Well, since I had locked my phone in my car too, I was unable to call Danny to come rescue me, as I have done in the past- and there were no Chinese restaurants around so I couldn't get any good door opening fortunes like I had done before. (If you are unfamiliar with my Chinese door opening fortune cookie experience, read my post entitled "Why I believe in fortune cookies"). Anyway, I called a locksmith and forked over $45 to get it opened. I guess my good fortune has run out.

My hands are dirty.......

If you want to know what the title of this blog refers to you'll have to ask me in person (I try to keep this at least PG-13). It sums up my recent trip to San Fransisco better than anything else. Last week I went to SF with a group from the U for the National Conference on Undergraduate Research. It was pretty fun. Among other things, I ate Cuban food, went to a presentation on posthumous reproduction, learned about the alligators at the U, and completed my very first sudoku puzzle. Some of us ended up on Market Street one day between 6th and 7th (which I learned is not the nicest part of town). We witnessed a robbery on the street and then some crazy chic with scary dogs made a comment from which the title of this blog is taken. I got the coolest glasses ever- they're blue with blinking lights. Oh, and I got to listen to music with headphones that make you feel like your high. It was awesome.

One Love

Last Monday was Dawn's Birthday and Ryan and I went to the Stephen Marley concert with her at Club Suede in Park City. At one point, before the show started some enormous Polynesian fellas were being a little frivolous. One of the guys grabbed me and gave me the biggest bear hug I think I've ever had. I was completely helpless and I even thought that he might squeeze me to death on accident. He reached his head around to my ear and in slurred speech said "I don't judge a book by its cover- and I know your white- but I love you, man. When I look at you all I see is love." His mouth was so close to my ear that I could feel his lips. I don't think I've ever been the subject of so much public affection. It was kind of nice. While this guy was telling me how much he loved me, his friend was getting a kick out of yelling "Harry Potter!" and pointing at me. I guess I look like Harry Potter- I don't know. A little later, some lady confessed to grabbing my but- which I was totally unaware of. She said it was nice and firm-I guess that's good. She was holding some guys hand, so it was really awkward. Apparently he didn't care if his girl was checking out other guys. Well, we had a good time.

spring break

Last week was spring break. Highlights included:
-Soaking up UV rays at Lava Hot Springs. The water was too hot, but the sun was just right.
-Being asked by a Filipina (who is about as dark as is humanly possible without being a native African) if she had gotten any tanner.
-Accompanying Danny and his girlfriend to Arches National Park (yup, I was pretty much a loner).
-Listening to the mice howl at the moon.
-Hiking in the rain.
-Camping in the handicap spot.
-Chasing jack rabbits.
-Danny almost walking off the cliff.
-Chesterfried chicken.

blood of the gods.

I decided to check out my family history the other night so I went to the family search website and typed in the name of my maternal great great grandpa. I discovered that someone has been really busy doing genealogy. 41 generations back I discovered a man named Charlemagne. I thought, HOLY COW! so I kept looking. There were all kinds of kings and queens and dukes and counts and emperors. There was even an archbishop. I didn't think that archbishops were supposed to have children. Anyway, my ancestry went all over Western and Northern Europe- France, Spain (I even have an ancestor named Sancho Sanchez), Italy, England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales, Belgium, Denmark, Germany, Switzerland, Norway, Sweden, and Finland. I traced one line into Scandanavia back to the first and second centuries AD. That's where things became very interesting. I noticed that there were several generations with names like Godwulf, Flocwald, and Freothalf. They all lived in a place called Asgard. So I googled Asgard and read that it is the mythological home of the Norse gods and I discovered that all of those names are figures from norse mythology. Apparently I am a descendent of Norse gods. I am trying to figure out what kind of advantages this gives me in life. Exciting, huh?

Cheney at BYU?

I just read a press release from BYU that VP Dick Cheney has accepted the invitation of the First Presidency of the LDS church to speak at BYU's commencement on April 26. While I will not protest his right to speak or the right of the First Presidency to invite him, I will say that I believe it was a bad move and I'm happier than ever that I chose to go to the U of U instead of BYU- at least my celebration of four years of education will not include listening to Dick Cheney. I hope that none of the apostles invite him to go hunting while he's in Utah. I also hope he is better at controlling his language during commencement speeches than on the Senate floor. Last I heard, "obscene" language is against BYU's honor code.

push ups

My last companion on my mission was a big Tongan fella who loved to eat, gamble, listen to music, play football, and do push-ups. We helped out at the local Boys and Girls club a couple times a week, which consisted mostly of playing pool with each other and the kids. Apparently it isn't fun to play any kind of game unless there is some kind of wager. Well, since we were missionaries and we were poor we couldn't use money so my companion suggested push-ups as a wager. Needles to say- I did more push-ups in those five weeks than I ever had before or have since. I was recently reminded of this when my mom triumphantly announced to me that she did her first two push-ups ever last Sunday. Congratulations Mom!!

Preston, ID

Preston, Idaho is a nice little town. Its were I grew up and lived for the first eighteen years of my life. Last night I decided to see what kind of information was on Wikipedia about my hometown. I discovered that someone has been having fun with Wikipedia's edit feature. Among other things, I learned that Preston was settled by Greek pioneers, the film "Pearl Harbor" was filmed there, and that some of the trees there are 999,000 feet over air level. What the heck is air level? The nearby town of Franklin apparently is home to several "skyscrappers" and the early settlers in Preston were regularly threatened by bands of Samurai warriors. I can't imagine that any school children would ever write a report about Preston, ID, but if they were to, I think it would turn out pretty good if Wikipedia was their primary source. I checked the history of the article and discovered that it gets changed quite frequently, from people both fixing mistakes and adding them. Here's the link if you want to check it out: www.en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Preston%2C_ID

On Being Sexy????

There's something about being told that your sexy that does great things for your ego, regardless of who says it. Monday is ladies night at the Salt Lake Metro jail. Its the night that I get stuck in a room with about twenty female inmates. I have never met more frightening women in my life than some of those women that I work with on Monday nights. I'm pretty sure that they would bite me if I made them mad in any way at all. Anyway, this Monday night I was helping a group of ladies with some math problems. After demonstrating that squaring a number is not the same as multiplying it by two, they began to believe that I possessed some kind of superhuman math powers. I've decided that once a woman believes that you have superhuman powers she automatically falls in love with you. This is bad if you've just convinced a classroom of women who wouldn't hesitate to sink their half rotten teeth into your skin that you have super math powers. Then again, it is nice to be told that your sexy, even if its from a woman who could squash you with her bare hands.

gov. arnold

The other night, Danny and I were bored so we had a little bit of fun with the Google directory. We ended up calling Arnold Schwarzenegger. Turns out that he doesn't actually answer his phone, nor does he take messages. However, you can voice your opinion to an operator if you would like.

prison break

For those of you who aren't intimately acquainted with the intricate details of my everyday life, here's a good place to start: I have a job. I spend four evenings of the week at the Salt Lake Metro Jail, teaching, tutoring, and giving tests to inmates. As an employee of Granite School District I get paid from the state tax revenue- so remember to pay your taxes so that I don't have to get laid off. Anyway, last night I went to give a math test to a few inmates in their pod and interrupted their Monday evening entertainment: Prison Break on FOX. I thought it was really ironic that they were sitting in jail watching Prison Break. I've actually wondered before if they were allowed to watch it- I guess they are.

strange bathroom behavior

The other day I walked into a bathroom in one of the buildings on campus and was immediately caught off guard by something not common to men's restrooms: talking. And not only that, but the person doing the talking was in a stall! I immediately noticed that both of the stalls in the bathroom were occupied and I jumped to the conclusion that guys in the two different stalls were talking to each other. Then I realized that I was only hearing one voice. I finally decided that the guy was either talking on his cell phone or to himself, or that the guy in the other stall just wasn't responding for some reason. But come on, who talks on their cell phone while using the restroom- especially a public one. This experience made me wonder if I've ever had a phone conversation with someone who was sitting on a toilet in a public restroom. For some reason it seems like this might be a more common practice among women. Maybe some ladies can inform me.