The Year in Review

Well, I thought it necessary to write about all the cool things that happened to me this last year. In all reality, it's been an awesome year.

This blog post is going to focus on all the cool stuff I did.
To start off, in January, I moved into Cinnamontree with a couple of my mission buddies. This was by far the most exciting semester I've had. Earlier, they had built a bar in the apartment and, being the cool people we were, threw a bunch of parties. We had a toga party, Hot Rod party, and many more.
One of such was an ugly sweater party. For this party, we made home made eggnog. To this day, I'm surprised nobody got sick from drinking it.
















This semester was...I'm not sure what you would call it, but I went on a date a week, and didn't ask or pay for a single one. They were either blind dates, or the girls asked me. Still no success tho.

As the semester came to a close, I got the offer to go to Oregon. It was a 9 credit hour program where we studied marine biology in Charleston, OR. It actually wasn't something that I usually do. In fact, it took a lot of convincing to get me to go. But in the end, I went. It was super cool. I think I'm going to live in Oregon someday. It was awesome. The friends I made there were also awesome. I stay in contact with most of them still.







Before leaving for Oregon, I bummed a ride off of some friends to Arizona because I haaaaa a deiwnd I was visoring i'd Mesa.













After Oregon, I came home, and bummed around the rest of the summer. We went to Red Robin a lot, and watched a ton of movies.





Near the end of the summer, my family decided to take a vacation back up to Oregon. We lived there as a family about 20 years ago. On our trip, we mostly camped on the way up there. We stopped by the Redwoods then went back and visited a bunch of places we liked to go as children, but mostly, we just relaxed. We rented a beach house and just relaxed.






Unfortunately, the rest of the year wasn't too eventful. I was in organic chemistry and other biology classes. This combination sums to doing almost nothing but studying. I turned down 15 blind dates, and went on three of my own choosing. I'm living with some pretty cool guys...mostly, and we've had a pretty chill time.


One highlight of the semester was that I was a TA for a computer science class. I've found my calling in life. It's been awesome.
Alright. So maybe it wasn't THE highlight. It was super fun.  But the Space Center was totally awesome!! For those of you who don't know, the Space Center is a place where dreams come true. It's an elementary school that has different rooms built like space ships from Star Trek. They have missions that groups of people go on (usually elementary students) they give you costumes, etc. This is the real deal.


As the year came to an end, my knee started hurting...worse. So I got it checked out. Apparently, I've been living on a torn meniscus. So I got that fixed. The result: I'm on crutches for 6 weeks, and off the basketball court for 6 months. But at least it'll be fixed.
And that's pretty much my year in a nutshell.

Roommates

Well, to start off, I'd like to mention that I just had surgery.  On my knee.  So if you're reading this, two things:
1.  If you haven't come to visit me and give me attention, shame on you!
2.  Be aware that I just took some pain killers and things might not make sense.

After moving away from home, one tends to have some interesting interactions with other people.  As crazy as it seems, not everyone is like a brother or sister who have somewhat similar work ethics as you.  Roommates are definitely full of surprises.  And I, for one, am an expert on the situation.  I've lived in 6 apartments at BYU.  That's a total of 22 roommates.  On my mission, I lived in 9 different cities, with 17 mission companions.  In this blog, I hope to highlight the best... or worst of these experiences.

The first general habit I have noticed about roommates is that they are generally lazy. Time and time again, I've found myself cleaning dishes.  There's one roommate who who refuses to believe that his dishes he uses for mac and cheese are ever... his.  He loves mac and cheese (especially when it's mine.  I bought a box of 15 and only ate 3.  He ate the rest and wouldn't admit to the fact.  I watched him go to my cupboard several times for my mac and cheese. I'm fairly observant.  He thinks I'm stupid or something?). Well, he happens to be the most frequent consumer of mac and cheese (MY mac and cheese) in our apt and ALWAYS leaves his dishes out.  It would be nice if he at least rinsed out MY mac and cheese from the pan (come to think of it, it's prolly my pan too....). But no.  Leaves it out 'till it gets all crusty and nasty.  Oh. Also the strainer.  How hard is it to clean out a strainer?  If you do it right away, it's just a quick rinse.  In all reality, that's what cleaning dishes is: just a few minutes. If you don't have time for that, you seriously have to get your life looked at.  It's like microwave directions for a poptart.  Seriously?  If you are too rushed to have to microwave poptarts, you gotta get rid of something.  Find more time. The best part is this roommate never does anything worthwhile.  So many times I see him on the couch just watching TV. Lazy buger....
I guess, in reality, I could just dedicate a whole blog to his behavior... but I won't.  There's another roommate that I had who found a sale on chili... apparently.  Two weeks, almost every day, I would find a bowl of chili sitting on the counter.  He wouldn't want to eat it the next day, so he'd put it aside and get another bowl of chili.  Almost every day he would do this.  For two weeks. This is also the roommate who had his own band. And they would practice every Friday night.  And believe me.  It wasn't often enough.  That was the semester I started cussing...  This was also the roommate who locked me out of my bedroom because he and his girlfriend were goin at it. Did I mention his band played sucky music? He had an accordian, a piano, guitar, bass, violin, trumpet and a banjo.  Really?? Wow. Exceptional!
Mission companions are always fun.  I had one who liked the temperature of the apartment at exactly a gazillion degrees.  Apparently he was an extremophile.  What's funny isn't that he liked the temperature so high, but that he would walk down the stairs, look at the thermostat and say: "Who changed the temperature to something reasonable??" Really?  There's two of us living here.  Of course I'm going to be the reasonable one here.  You, are crazy.  If it wasn't you, it was me.  There's no reason to be non-confrontational about it.
Oh it buggs me when roommates use my stuff. Eat MY mac and cheese, or, get this, I had one use my bath towel. Really?  And he was fat.  I had to burn it after that.  He wiped it all over his... fat.  Gross.
One of the most entertaining roommates was Scot. Super great kid. He was a freshman.  Poor guy.  Super socially awkward! He also had a problem with sleeptalking/walking.  I'll share the best experiences.
I don't really sleep a lot.  One night, while I was not sleeping, he woke up, and walked out of the room.  I asked him: Scot, where are you going?  Oh, I'm thirsty.  20 minutes later, he went back to bed.  He must have been really thirsty.  The next morning, while I was eating my marshmallow maties, he says: did our apartment flood?
No. Why?
Because all my books are wet.
Apparently when he was really "thirsty" he was dreaming about how our apartment was on fire and so he put his backpack out with the convenient glass of water that was in his hand.
Next story happened one of the nights I actually slept.  I woke up to him yelling.  I looked up and he was about to step on my face.  our beds were about 3 feet apart, and at the head of the beds was a mini fridge. He was standing on the fridge and about to jump on my face.
Scot!  Scot! Stop! What are you doin?
I've gotta cross this bridge!  It's about to fall apart, and I can't go back!
No Scot. It's not a bridge.  But the fridge will prolly collapse if you don't get off it! It took some more coaxing to get him back in bed.  But by this time, I was pro. at convincing him that he was asleep and needed to get back into bed. His bed.
Well, this isn't the most exciting blog post, but it's an attempt to fill my time while I'm down.  Either way, Merry Christmas! Maybe I'll write another later this week...
Until the next time!

Meisjes : 3e stuk

For those of you who don't speak Dutch, it means: Girls : 3rd part.

It's Thanksgiving break.  It's interesting how holidays seem to bring back memories.  I guess it's interesting to think back a year, or two, or three, etc and see how far I've come.  As I was reminiscing this thanksgiving, I remembered something that happened 5 years ago on Thanksgiving that would fit perfectly into this blog post about girls.  There was a girl in my freshman ward who was also in my FHE group.  She was tall, pretty, athletic... just up my alley.  So we started hanging out.  I'd help her with her biology homework, she'd help me with... my social skills. Now, it has been known that before my mission, I hadn't kissed a girl.  And I'd like to think that the reason was: my parents didn't want me to.  In fact, they didn't want me to soo bad that they offered me $500 if I would make it to the end of my mission without kissing anyone (boy or girl). (Awkward....) I had a priesthood leader who was also influential on me.  He told me that if I kissed a girl I could take his Mercedes (I can't remember the model, but it was twin chipped and would beat a Dodge Viper off the line) out and then kiss the girl.  I told this story at FHE one evening thinking that I wasn't going to date any of the girls anyhow.  The previously mentioned girl, just before thanksgiving, starting being a little more forward.  I though she was interested.  As was I.  She was from Canada, and flew home for Thanksgiving break.  Before she left, she asked me if I would pick her up from the airport that weekend when she came home.  I agreed, and she said: You should probably get that Mercedes from your neighbor, because I'll be expecting something from you when I get off the plane.
My heart started racing.  It was the longest thanksgiving break ever!!!  Unfortunately, the Mercedes was in the shop, and so I just took a truck.  Nothing special, but she didn't know that.  The weather wasn't all that great during the break, but she was convinced that she would just be delayed an hour.  Three hours later, she informed me that the airport in Canada wasn't even open.  But... she had a friend who was stuck in the airport in SLC that needed a ride back to Provo.  Being the friend I was, and thinking it would score me some points with her, I agreed to take him home.
We met up, and hit the road.  As we talked, I asked him how he knew said girl.  He says: Oh.  We're dating.
How long?
Almost 3 months now.
There was an awkward silence the rest of the way home.  I still haven't talked to her.

I feel like I tend to be too trusting/believing of people.  If someone tells me something, I have no reason to assume that they're lying.  And thus I've been played numerous times.  In fact, just a couple weeks ago, I met this girl.  She seemed pretty cool.  We hung out quite a bit, then the next week she was "sick" almost every night.  That weekend, I asked her what her plans were and she said that she was just going to lie in bed and sleep.  I saw her on Sunday, and she confirmed that she was in bed all weekend.  Then the next day I was talking to her and her roomie, and the roomie spoiled everything.  She was going off about how fun that weekend was together and how much fun they had... Honesty.  Really.  I promise I can take it.  In fact, a month or so ago, I went on a date with a girl.  We had a lot of fun (...well, I know I did), but when I got around to asking if she wanted to go out again, she told me that there was someone else in the picture.  No harm done.  I have so much more respect for her because she was honest rather than saying she was "sick" every time I wanted to do something.

Another story of honesty happened this summer.  It also deals with girls.  I coached my little sister's soccer team.  During practice one day, we were doing running drills.  One of the girls says: coach Spencer!  You run like a girl.  Man.  I miss being their coach.  We went undefeated this season. Almost every girl scored a goal, and we had a lot of fun!

I realized that these past couple of posts have been a little bit on the negative side.  I promise I'm not that negative.  I find these situations humorous.  I laugh at them.  If there's one thing you should know about me is: I find humor in everything... or I at least try to.  I've moved on from all of these situations, and have let the past go.    I'll try to make the next post a little more upbeat and humorous. For now, you'll have to put up with my nonsense.

Girls (part 2)

I don't set a lot of people up on blind dates. I don't really know how.  I am under the impression that the persons who get set up should have more than just similar looks to be compatible.  However, apparently, not everyone has this same ideal.  Do you know how many times I've been set up with a girl just because "she's tall!  You two will get along great!"  And most times we do.  However, how different is it from saying: "You're ugly, she's ugly, you'd make a great couple!"  That's a terrible thing to say.  I wouldn't recommend saying that to anyone.  I learned that the hard way.  Just because "You both like math," that won't guarantee an eternal marriage. Sure, we'll be able to talk about integrals, logarithmic expressions, graphs, calculus, and limits till the wee hours of the morning, but a person is a lot deeper than just that.
Well, there once was a friend I had who was of the opinion that Tall + Tall = eternal.  I agreed... like I used to always do, and went on the date.  I was sure to wear my tall shoes cuz girls that are taller than me scare me a little.  I wasn't nervous, but didn't really have my filter on.  I was set up with a girl on the Volleyball team and we were with a group of friends I knew from an old ward.  There were a couple of basketball players in the group, and as it often goes, their scholastic abilities don't quite reach the uber-nerd status that I have.  As we were eating dinner, one girl mentioned something about how she was planning on going on a mission (not something you want to mention on a date... or to someone you want to date: slight turn-off) and I was asked where I went.  Then we went around the circles started talking about something else.  Out of the blue, one of the friends I knew, turned to me and said: how many languages do you know?

I replied: seven.


At this point, I knew it was too late.  There was no way this tall girl would ever go out with me again.  Everyone was slightly caught off guard and all ears were on me.  There was no return.  I must finish what I started.  As I told them: Dutch, Flemish, English, some German, Java, Perl, and some C++.
One of the Basketball players then asked me: Where do they speak perl??
Apparently he didn't have a problem with people from C++onia speaking C++.
Needless to say, at that time, there were other options for me, so, assuming that she was too weirded out about my nerd comments, I didn't mind not getting her number.  However, I found out a few days later, that she started dating one of my buddies who was to be my roomie the next semester.

As one can see, I'm quite the charmer with the ladies (if that's not coated with sarcasm, I don't know what is...).  It hasn't always been this way.  Back in High School, I was the band geek.  I started with the clarinet, moved on to the tenor saxophone, played percussion for a semester, learned to play fluite for a song that was never performed, played the piano, picked up the sousaphone, sang in the choir and played the organ on my mission.  (It wasn't till later that I became a computer nerd.)  I wasn't very social, and was a little bit of a homophobe.  Wow.  A lot has changed since then.  I think one of the main reasons that I have changed is due to the following experience:
I decided that I wanted to be someone else.  I wanted to be the cool guy in school, and I needed to branch out and make more friends.  One day, I was standing in line at lunch, and a girl from my seminary class got in line behind me.  She was the one.  She was popular, on the volleyball team and had a ton of friends.  Perfect opportunity to integrate myself into the popular crowd.  I convinced myself that I would talk to her.  So the next day, I came up with a plan.  The next week, I set a goal to implement that plan... the following week.  Ok. So maybe it wasn't that bad.  I was nervous as all get-out, and did end up talking to her.  We started talking, and I was invited to eat with her at the "popular table."  So I did.  Somehow or another, she punched me in the stomach.  I've never had a problem with being overweight... (except on my mission.  I'll insert a picture here purely for your enjoyment...), so obviously, I had a six-pack.  When she felt this she exclaimed: "You have a six-pack??!!!"  When that word is uttered in a group of high school girls, there's scrambling, clawing, fighting, etc. to see who the blessed boy is who has one.  It was my first week of "breaking out of my bubble" and there were 10 girls around me asking me to lift up my shirt so they could see.  Yeah.  Not so comfortable.  I made a hasty escape.  Since then, I've become a little more open.

It also happened that this same girl who brought me into the popular group, also almost brought me my first fight.  It went like this.  After the previous experience, we became pretty good friends.  We started hanging out, and there was mutual interest.  At the same time, the class D-bag was also interested.  He "got rid of his porn, R-rated movies, and girlfriend to show his devotion to her." How could she refuse an offer like this?  Well, she held out strong for a while.  Then He offered her a choice: To be with her, or he was going to fight me.   I wasn't the most strapping young man, but, I was on the basketball team.  I hold my own in scrappy ball, I'd given plenty of black eyes and bloody noses and I don't go down without a fight. I mentioned this to the other players on the team, and they offered to jump him and do my dirty work.  I really wanted to fight the kid.  He was a tool.  He treated girls like crap, and if there's anything bigger than my feet, it's his head.  However, girl talked me out of it, promising her soul to mine if I didn't.  The next week they were dating.  I guess that's what I get for believing girls...


To end this blog, I will relate a real-life experience.  I seem to attract crazy people.  Here is the BJGirl story:  
I was in the middle of believing a girl: she plead her devotion to me, and then was fickle about commitment.  So in the middle of my frustration, another girl showed up in the picture.  I thought she was cool.  So I got her number and started flirting with her.  I wasn't really into her, but I felt comfortable around her.  She was definitely not homophobic and was rather loose with her lips.  In my moment of weakness, boredom and frustration with girls, I agreed to hang out with her.  She wanted to watch a movie.  And when a girl says she wants to watch a movie, we all know what that means.  Nothing really happened after that between us except I would get these random texts from her quite frequently.  She would say: hey.  Lets make out all night long. Or: lets make out! or: I'm horny.  I eventually just deleted her number and ignored all her messages.  Then it got worse.  I don't know what her deal was, or why she kept texting me cuz I would never reply.  One time, I got a text that said: I wanna have a sleepover! So I replied: what?! you want me to bring a rubber or something? She didn't get it.  A few weeks later, she sent me a picture of her.  Apparently she had a photoshoot.  And she didn't look bad.  Actually, she looked really good.  Photoshop can do some wonders.  Well, she sent another picture.  This one got deleted immediately due to the fact that she wasn't wearing any clothes.  A couple weeks later, she texted me all depressed and suicidal.  I felt bad, so I replied minimal information.  Then she got all personal and asked me stuff about relationships.  Like how far I've gone with a girl.  I didn't respond.  Then she asked me if I wanted a blow job. I didn't respond to that question either. 
Yeah.  Crazy.

Girls (1 of ...3?)

Yeah.  I just did.
If you know me, you know I have many a story about girls.  And quite a few of them are rather funny.
Wow! I really don't know where to start.  I think I'll start with my first blind date ever.  The first of many. 

I had just turned 16, and my older brother was in his freshman year at the BYU.  He was dating a girl, and one day he called me up.  Apparently, said girl had a sister who was coming into town for the weekend.  My brother and one of his friends wanted to go on a group date that weekend, and the girlfriend didn't want her sister to feel left out.  Perfect opportunity for a blind date.  I was called, and set up... like a lamb to the slaughter.  Ok.  It wasn't that bad.  It started off good enough: we picked up our ladies, and took them to our home for breakfast for dinner.  We had French Toast, OJ, and other goodies.  Then we decided to watch "Bed-knobs and Broomsticks."  She was from Georgia, and therefore suffering from jet-lag.  It was alright that she was tried from the flight.  However, when she fell asleep during the movie, and started drooling all over my shoulder when I didn't realize it... Uh.  That actually didn't happen.  I didn't really have any sort of physical relationship with a girl till after my mission.  However, this evening, she dozed off during the movie.  She woke up half way through, looked at me, I asked her if she was doing alright, then she turned to her sister and my brother and said: hey.  Your brother fell asleep!  Lies!  All lies!  I don't fall asleep on dates!


Except for once. I had an acquaintance ask me one day if I wanted to double with him.  I didn't want to due to homework, a migraine and other circumstances, but I did anyhow.  This was a friend of a girl who my friend was lusting after.  Or in other words: he wanted her bacon.  They lived in northern Utah, and were coming down for the evening and wanted to do a double date or something.  So I went along.  We went to Jump on It in PG, the room full of trampolines.  That wasn't ideal because... it cost money.  Yes.  I am a cheapskate. I don't like spending a lot of money on blind dates because my track record hasn't been all that great.  Afterwords, we came home.  I was thinking: yeah! Good date! Time to get back to my homework.  This friend of mine was thinking: not a chance! I'm totally going to make out with this chick tonight.  Well, he didn't.  But he did end up turning what could have been a cool 2 hour date into 6 hours.  In my opinion, dates, especially blind dates should be no more than 2 hours long.  After 4 hours, I was debating on weather I should fake like had some sort of crazy sickness and get out of there. Unfortunately, I stuck it out, enduring this kid's attempts at wooing the girl: singing with an out of tune guitar, telling dirty jokes to gauge weather or not he would be able to make out with her by the end of the night. Needless to say, I survived to tell the tale. :)

Another interesting story that I have that's girl-related was my roommate's girlfriend. They were...interesting, to say the least. I shared a bedroom with him, and when he didn't have a gf, it was alright. He would be pretty messy at times, but it was tolerable. However, he got a girlfriend shortly thereafter, and I was plotting how I would be able to get them to break up. No. I wasn't bitter that he was dating someone and I wasn't. Yes. It was a little weird to walk in on them -and it happened at least once a week. They weren't exactly that great at following rules either. I didn't mind them being together after hours working on homework, or even watching movies together. But it got to me when she started spending the night... in his bed....in MY bedroom! I'd wake up, take a shower, and as I'm about to put some clothes on, I would realize: hm. There's a girl in his bed. And she's prolly gonna wake up any time now. I'd quickly put my towel back on and then change in the other room. One night, after coming home from a blind date, I found that the door to MY bedroom was locked. Yes. They had locked me out and both of them were fast asleep (I'll give them the benefit of the doubt and say that they were asleep.  Not doing other stuff). Needless to say, I spent many a night on the couch. Also, in that apartment, I managed to walk in on all 4 of my roommates while they were making out with their gf's. Yeah. I felt pretty lame not having one of my own. I did my best to get one, but to my dismay, they were all crazy. One had a "hometeacher give her a blessing telling get that she shouldn't date anyone at that time in her life." Another just wanted me as a rebound. (I would have you know that I like basketball. Maybe that's why I was so good at it.) Yet another got "revelation that she was supposed to go on a mission." Excuses are like armpits.  Everyone has them, and they all stink.  If you're not into someone, tell 'em straight up.

The Dock Girl
This past summer was pretty eventful as well. One of the highlights of my summer, that still comes back to haunt me, was when I went up to Oregon. The elders quorum president asked me to take a girl out who was spending a couple weeks up there and wanted to hang out with someone. I called her up, we played volleyball one night, then went and got ice cream the next night, watched a movie, and the sunset. Things seemed to click really well. She mentioned that she might move up to Provo during the summer, and we could see of things went anywhere. I was all about it. After all, I'm relatively inexperienced in the dating realm, and was down for it. The next night, we were talking on the dock, watching the ships float by, listening to the waves crash on the breakwater, watching the stars come out.... And then we kissed. A few times. Unfortunately, our perch on the dock was not a secret. Minutes later, the rest of the BYU students had come out with flashlights, and we were very much not alone anymore. There was mocking then, and there still is, to this very day. She left the following day for Phoenix, and I haven't really talked to her or seen her since.

Evolution Girl
As a biologist, I study evolution. I believe in it. There is too much evidence suggesting that we did evolve and have the same ancestors as some primates. However, these theories have turned into my test for a girl. If they accept my thoughts on evolution, they're prolly accepting enough for the rest of me. One weekend, I went on another blind date. We went to the zoo. The night before, I was getting back from a family vacation and didn't get a lot of sleep. Thus, my filter wasn't working exactly like it should have. There, in front of the monkeys, I commented how fascinating it was that we had evolved from an ancestor of these creatures. Silence.... Are you being serious? She asked. There was no coming back. Yes. I said. I am. I explained how I saw it. Things got really awkward for a couple of minutes.

Failed Attempt
One of the most hilarious moments in relation to dating was when I had someone try and set me up on a blind date. I didn't really know the girl who was setting me up. She was a friend of my brothers and another buddy of mine. I had just met her and she had taken upon herself to make me a match that would last for the eternities.
Her: So... What do you look for in a girl??
Me: tall, athletic, musically talented, and someone who can cook. (yes. These requirements have changed since then. So if you're one of those ppl who are stalking me, trying to find what I like, don't give up!!)
Her: Oh! I know the perfect one! Her asking my friend: what's Nate's little sister's name??
I have a brother named Nathan. My little sister is Sarah.
My buddy: oh. You mean Sarah?
Her: yeah! Don't you think they would make a great couple??
Awkward silence...

.........

Me: you mean my sister??
Her face turned all sorts of colors of red. We still laugh about it.

Like the title suggests, this blog will be continued...


(all comics used in this post are not mine and can be found at the websites printed on the comic.  To avoid hurting feelings, I left names out and didn't include pictures of all the crazy people I've attempted to date)

In Summary

Well, yet another summer has come and gone.  I find myself, yet again, in the airport, waiting for a flight.  This time in Colorado.  One of the things I thoroughly enjoy is watching people.  Especially at the airport.  It's such a strange conglomerate of people.  Some people are rich or businessmen and fly many times a year, others it's a first time.  Som are with families, and others by themselves.  from the outside, they look so happy.  For instance, a kid and his parents are sitting across the row from me.  They seem to be having a jolly time: smiling, making jokes with each other, etc.  But something inside me asks: but what is it like in real life?  Is this how it is when they're not out in public?
Perspective is an interesting subject.  A couple weeks ago, our family went up to Oregon on vacation.  On this trip, I introduced my family to tide-pooling.  The first time we went to the beach, my two littlest sisters went crazy.  They were picking up almost everything they could find that wasn't sand.  Most of what they picked up was broken and absolutely worthless.  I remember the first time I went tide-pooling.  I got so excited about a crab skeleton I found.  Then a couple weeks later, I was enthralled with the rock-boring clams.  Something else caught my eye a couple weeks later.  But it seems that as we go on in life, the little things seem to become less important.
A while back, I was hiking with my little sister in the mountains.  I was fascinated by the scenery and the overlook of the valley.  Then my sister said: hey! Look! It's an ant!  She was bent over, looking at the ground when there was so much going on all over.  I thought: Man, I imagine there was a time when I was fascinated by ants as well.  And now they're just so.... normal. I was so concentrated on the bigger picture.
This semester, I'm in a Plant Diversity Lab where we look at the diversity of animals.  Yeah.  You guessed it.  Not animals but plants.  The first week we were in class, we all took leafs and looked at them under microscopes.  While everyone was off trying to get out of the lab as soon as possible, I was there, fascinated by the complexity of them all.  How each of these organisms come from one cell, fertilized, then divided multiple times 'till it becomes an organism.  Look at your hands for example.  There are so many things that could go wrong in the development of your body.  And yet, there are sooo many of us who look the same!
It's all about perspective.

On a side note, this post was supposed to summarize what I accomplished this summer.  And I'll tell you in a nutshell.  I met some of the coolest people ever.  Texas is an amazing place and I have so many friends there now--at least I consider them friends... maybe they were thinking: this Spencer kid shoulda left before he got here... so annoying!!  At least beth still calls me every once in a while...
Oregon was amazing: Also full of meeting awesome friends, and being able to learn about and study marine life... that was awesome.  The redwoods, family vaca. to Oregon, spending the weekend in Logan.  In summery (yes.  pun intended): probably one of the best summers I've ever had.

Witch Doctor

Mark Twain once said: Happiness and sanity are an impossible combination.
Let me divulge a secret that only my closest friends (and everyone my parents have told) know: I'm gay.  Now I didn't come to this conclusion quickly.  In fact, to be honest, I didn't come to this conclusion at all.  I'm about as straight as they come.  However, looking back on my dating history, I'd like to say there is a reason why I've had such bad... luck (if you can call it luck... it's mostly: I'm not cool enough, I guess).  OK.  The big secret is: I'm not well.  I don't know why either.  And if you're reading this, please, don't feel like I'm trying to tell a sob story or looking for attention, because I'm not.  There's just a really cool story that needs some necessary background information.
I guess you could say it started in High School.  I played basketball (mostly sat the bench tho) back then.  As the years wore on, there was a pain in my lower back.  I went to the doctor to find out if there was anything wrong with me or if it was something I could fix.  He said: nope.  Don't worry about it.  It's only growing pains.  I guess I should have told him that I had stopped growing, but I didn't.  Pain got worse, so I went to a chiropractor.  And that seemed to fix things.  'Till the MTC.  2 months of nothing but sleeping, eating, and sitting in class in terribly uncomfortable chairs does wonders to ones body.  As it did mine.  Back pains returned.
Being the tough guy that I am, I just rolled with it: did my best to ignore it and just work.  But it only got worse.  I started loosing sleep because of the pain.  One transfer, I got around 3 hours of sleep per night because of it.  I went to the doctor, he looked at my x-rays and said: these aren't yours.
Me: yes they are, I just took them.  I cam straight from the radiologist.
Him: no.  This is the back of a 75 year old.  Whoever this is has advanced arthritis and will be in a wheelchair in 10 years.
Me: I promise they're mine.  I was the only one there today.
Him: Well, if you want to be walking past the age of 30, you better stop playing basketball, go back to America, and get some work done on that.
Well, I didn't go just yet.  There were more pressing matters on my mission president's plate than me.  Two and a half years ago, I got home and have been seeing doctors ever since.  Joints and muscles are in constant pain.  There has been one day in the past 4 years that I can remember where I haven't been in pain.  In that time, I have been diagnosed with advanced arthritis, degenerative disk disease, scoliosis, severe depression, fibromyalgia, and ADD.  No treatments have worked up to this point.
A couple weeks ago, I went over to a friends house and saw a slew of bottles on his counter.  Then I saw his mom adding different amounts of drops of each bottle into a shot glass, mix it with some juice, and swallow.  In response to my quizzical expression, she bore her testimony of a doctor who could cure all ailments.  I said: no way.
Her: yes. she gives us these herbs and they make us feel better.
Me: yeah.  I have a green plant out back that makes me feel better too...
Her: I'll send you her contact information.
As I was talking to my buddy and his other siblings that are seeing this doctor, they explained what she did:  She talks with your spirit and finds out what is wrong with your body.
I guess that beats what the doctors do: they talk with me, guess what's wrong with my body, give me some drugs, and say: thanks for the vacation to the Bahamas you just paid for in your last visit!
So I thought that I'd give it a shot.
She started the appointment by pressing on different parts of my feet, asking me if they hurt, and making marks on a chart.  Then after that, she explained that the spirit was part of the body, and the only person who knew our body better than our spirit was God.  (I'm thinking: yeah.... I guess that's right.  Are we going to light some candles now, say some chants and get my spirit talking??) She then said: your spirit will not lie because it is pure intelligence. If I ask it a question, your muscles will tense up, and we will know if it is true or not. (I roll my eyes)  Put your thumb and your middle finger together, making a ring, but not pressing them together.  If the answer is yes, I wont be able to pull your fingers apart. (bigger eye-roll)  As she continues the diagnosis, she deduces by the previously stated method, that there are different hormone-secreting glands in my body that are non-functional.  She explains that one of these glands that is non-functional is usually the cause of a lot of joint and muscle pain.  This was actually impressive.  I hadn't mentioned any of the previous diagnoses of other doctors to her.  Then she said that most doctors don't have a clue about what is going on and usually call it fibromyalgia. It's also related to depression, ADD, memory loss... by this time, my eyes have stopped rolling, and they get wide.  She explains: within 6 weeks of taking this herb ______ you'll be feeling about 30% of where you should be.  In 3 months, you'll be back to 100%.  So I got all my potions ordered, and hope that my spirit wasn't lying.
So, if you see me in 3 months with 3 arms and a lisp, you'll know why.

Holidays

Holidays are always interesting experiences for me.  The fam. has some interesting ideas relating to holidays that I'm not too supportive of.  For starters: timing.
Being the relaxed fellow that I am, timing is NOT everything.  It is a common belief on one side of my family that every time there's a spare day - a day off school, any sort of break in school, or a holiday- timing is key. Every minute of every day has to be filled with something to do.  There can't be a single moment wasted, otherwise nobody is having fun... or so it is thought.  In order to get all the "partying" in that we possibly happen, one thing must happen:
Planning must occur: who's house?  What time? What do I need to cook? Everybody talks and coordinates, and cooks.  Where were we last year? Who is going to cook the main dish? "A cooked goose for everyone!"  And of course, with all this planning and timing and cooking, there's more preparation involved.  Apparently, it's a sin to leave the house without it being cleaned.  IF someone is going to break in while you're gone, they definitely won't care how your house looks.  And they'll for sure not leave it the same way they found it.  Also, it's not a sin to buy pre-cooked food.  Rolls, potato salad, jello, all taste amazing when they are cooked by people you love and care about, but food is food. Once it's down, nobody wants to know what happens to it.  You won't find people taking stool samples and analyzing in with science.
Here's a plan: buy food, don't clean, don't worry.  Just have fun.  Relax!  That's what holidays are for.  Otherwise, we're gonna need a holiday to take a break from the holidays we've been having.
Yes. I'll admit: planning, cooking, and stressing may be part of holidays, but the point of having them is to relax.  I've had problems escaping all these topics.  In the past couple of weeks, there was the Fourth of July, and my birthday.  As I was thinking about all the birthdays I've lived through, this one may have been the most enjoyable... or at least relaxed.  I had just got back from Oregon, and most of my friends were out of town for the summer (one of the downsides of having a birthday during break).  So I just chilled at my house, with my sibs, watched a bunch of movies, and relaxed.  Just what the doctor ordered.  Everyone around me thought that I was having such a bad day: I didn't get what I wanted for dinner, I didn't get what I wanted for presents, etc. The truth is: I don't need presents.  I would be content with a hug, a phone call, or if you're feeling especially daring: a card in the mail.  That's it.  Christmas?  I'll take the same.
I think back on my birthday last year.  I was in Europe.  This experience isn't all that great unless I tell of the circumstances leading up to it.  The week prior, I took a vacation to California with my brother and some friends.  We went out on the beach, only applied sun screen once, and I got friend to a crisp.  We got back to Utah the night before we were supposed to leave for Europe.  I didn't sleep at all that night because I was itching, and if I scratched, it hurt like the dickens! No sleep.  We "woke" up and headed to the airport.  Of course, planes are about conducive to sleep as a stick in your butt.  So I maybe got a few hours of sleep on the 16 hour flight to Belgium.  We went south to pick up our other brother from another airport, and then got something to eat.  This was my birthday.  We hadn't planned anything for this day except getting to our hotel and sleeping.  However, the adventurous people my family is, we just couldn't stop for a second.  I really don't remember much of this day.  I did write it down somewhere tho... If only I could remember where.  We bought belgian fries from a lady that didn't speak English, German, or Dutch (i'm pretty sure she over charged us) and then made our way to Maastricht.  We visited the city, and then headed to Aachen for the night.  Or so I thought.  We check in to our hotel and with 2 hours of sleep in the past 3 days, I pass out on the bed.  For 5 minutes.  We forgot to eat dinner.  So we went into town to eat.  And the architecture!! How could we pass it up without taking pictures.  No we couldn't wait for tomorrow, we had other stuff planned.  We had to take it all in now.  Eventually, after hallucinating and sleep walking down German cobble stone roads, we made it back to the hotel and BLISSFUL sleep followed.
Now.  One might think that I'm a little bit bitter about how things have played out.  I'm not.  Just a bit satyrical.  I enjoy as much as I can.  Yes, I would like to have a little more time to relax, but I'm not bitter.  My idea of an awesome vacation was last Christmas.  My sister had a basketball tournament in Las Vegas over Christmas break.  Nobody had any plans, so we headed down there as a family.  It was almost spur of the moment: no cleaning, no prior planning, no cooking.  We got in the MAV (Mormon assault vehicle)(15 seater van) and drove to vegas.  We found a hotel (in a Casino), and just hung out as a family for the week.  It was chill.  Relaxed.  Just what the doctor ordered.  We brought card games, movies, ate pizza, ate out, didn't plan very much at all.  And that's my idea of a good holiday: chill with family and friends.  No worries, no stress, no work.
Another memorable birthday I had was on my mission.  It was my last transfer on mission, and it was P-day.  I had told a family that it was my birthday, so they made arrangements for us to come out to their place for dinner for a BBQ.  I'd never been to a dutch BBQ before, and hadn't had a good steak for 2 years.  I was ready.
Now.  I wasn't a lazy missionary.  We got a lot accomplished.  But it just so happend that these members set up the dinner appointment with us to give us barely enough time to leave our apartment at 6 (when P-day was "over") get on the train, and make it to their house on time.  So that's what we did.  It also was convenient that we got back to our apartment at 9:10, just enough time to do planning.  So the planning we had to do as missionaries was perfect.  1 member lesson.  Not a bad day for a european mission! you may be thinking.  (for my mission: bad day).  But it was my birthday.  Apparently, Dutch people don't grill a lot.  When I got there, it was a sight to behold!  There was as much meat on that table as there was table!  Everything from a pig, chicken and cow (and maybe some horse in there too).  Bacon, pork chops, chicken wings, hot dogs, beef, and did I mention bacon?  It was more than bacon.  Try: 10x thicker than our american bacon.  You could feed a small family with one strip of that bacon.  This pig put Costco bacon to shame!  By the end of the night, I was OK with never eating meat again in my life. (that thought only lasted about 12 hours...).
I guess the general thought of this blog is to inspire the thought: less is more.  The less work and worry we put in, the more fun/memorable the experience will be.  But maybe it just sounds good on paper.  Bottom line: chill.  Relax.  Just roll with it.  Everything will work out aight.

It's Not What it Seems

So all last week I had this brilliant idea of what to write about.  Then, when I sat down to pound it out, nothing came.  Sometimes, it's just not as easy as it seems.  All these thoughts and emotions built up in your head, but getting them down on paper can be a friggen hassle.
So i've given up on that train of thought and decided to start over from scratch.
You know that feeling when you're leaving a place?  The one that says: You've forgotten something.  It's important and you can't survive without it!
Well, yesterday, as i was packing up and driving away from OIMB, I got that feeling.  Thankfully, it was only my shampoo.  And my wallet.  And my computer.  :/  Yeah. Ok. The last two are with me now, as I'm waiting to board the airplane.
On my way up here to Oregon, I stopped by my old house: the one that we lived in when I was in kindergarten.  I didn't remember much from those days when I was younger except for playing in the river with our dog, picking fresh blueberries and going to the farmers market on saturdays.  When we pulled up to our house, I didn't recognize it at all.  It wasn't what it seemed to be.  However, as I wrapped my head around the fact that it was, indeed the house I lived in as a kid, so many memories came flooding back.
I swung my head around and saw the house where I played with the other kid in the neighborhood in his back yard.  I looked back and saw tree in the back yard above the top of the house and remembered the tree house, the dog kennel, the strawberry patch, crawling down under the house in the crawl space, the magic show we put on once upon a time....  Memories are a funny thing.  Sometimes we hear a story so much that we feel like we were actually the ones to experience that event.  We make fun of one my friends because he once mentioned how he remembered his parents wedding.
Things really aren't what they seem.
Before i got out of Utah, I thought everything was just like it was there: dry, barren, hot.  Then I flew out to NC just after my freshman year of college.  I didn't expect it to be so green.  So lush and beautiful.  For my mission, I thought of the children's book of virtues story about the boy who stuck his finger in the dike and saved Holland.  I expected to see this little country the size of Provo with a huge wall around it, water up to the top.  But no.  Nothing like that.  The story isn't even true.  The author probably had one of those: oh! I was there! moments when he was thinking of that particular virtue.
Even though I was here once, and even drove through on my way to choir tour in high school, I didn't remember how green, hilly, lush this state is.
Last night was super fun.  I ate Aligator at a restaurant here in Portland with a friend.  Then we went to Voodoo Donuts and went up on top of a huge hill to look out over the valley as we ate our donuts.  Yet another "it's not what it seems moment" as I ate my bacon on maple bar. It tasted pretty good, no matter how it sounds.
There was this sandwich we had on our mission.  We called it the Amsterdammer.  It was created by a missionary who lost an incredible amount of weight on his mission.  It was an open faced sandwich with a piece of toast covered with penut butter, cheese, jam, fried egg, mayonaise, salami and applesauce.  Now, before you try this at home, know that it doesn't taste the same in the states.  The cheese, applesauce, mayo, and bread are all different over there.  It's not guaranteed to loose you weight either.
I'm not sure where I'm going with this post... but I just realized: I'm talking about food again.

Movies

Something I've been thinking about recently is movies.  On a side not, usually, what happens when I'm writing is: I start out with an idea, and start writing.  Then slowly, what really has been in the back of my mind, wanting to be expressed, comes out surprisingly coherent.
And now back to movies.  I enjoy movies: going to them, watching them, analyzing them, listening to soundtracks, etc.  In fact, I even enjoy making/being part of a production.  You should check out the most recent one I was in with a couple of roommates that was made for a class project. CLICK ON ME! or go to: http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=2046665925239&comments&set=t.17831634&type=1
Whenever I watch this, it makes me smile.  There have been other movies I've been in, and some of my fondest memories of making movies goes back to the Junior High German class.  For our final project, we were required to make a movie with all the communication done in German.  Easy enough.  I don't remember what they were about anymore, but I do remember the fun we had and there seems to have bene a cross-dresser in all of them.
Another fond memory I have of movies is my freshman english class: philosophy 150, getting substituted for the required english credit (maybe that's why I'm not the best at writing... :/).  This class was one of my favorites -- not because the final grade I got was the one I gave myself, or because there was almost not work involved, or the content of the class, but a mixture of all three.  I think we took notes in that class a total of 3 times.  The rest of the semester was spent watching movies, analyzing them, and writing about them.  A one-page paper was due almost every week on a different movie we had watched, using a different method of critiquing for each movie.  There I learned what makes a movie "good".  I've tried to use those methods as I watch movies now, but more often than not, it gets overlooked.  Frankly: even if a movie sucks, I'll probably enjoy the experience.  And here's why:
The thing about movies is: they put you in the actors shoes.  You feel the emotions of fear, excitement, sadness, joy etc. as they experience what happens on the set.  In most movies, the actors end up with a happy ending.  So we leave the theatre happy.  It's two hours where we can forget about all the crap that's going on in our lives and pretend we're someone else.  Maybe a reason why I, in particular, enjoy movies so much is because I feel like the cards haven't been dealt very fairly to me.  So it's nice to get away and pretend for a moment that I really do get the chick in the end, or that I suddenly inherit a billion dollars, or that I save the world from the crazy terrorists.
Maybe this post is being written to, in some way, justify my so frequent viewings of movies.  Last week, for an assignment in our Developmental Biology class was to take turns on 3 hour shifts 24 hours a day and watch developing embryos of a sea urchin.  As exciting as that sounds (and for those of you who haven't done this: something happens the first 3 hours, and then nothing for 10 hours, rinse and repeat), I didn't mind staying up till 1 a.m. or waking up at 4 a.m. or even the shift from 1 to 4 a.m.. And the reason why: I had plenty of movies to keep me company.  Thankfully, exciting friends are here to stop me from sitting down all day and watching movie after movie, and get me outside to the beach.  Yes.  We've been to the beach at least 4 times a week.  We've recently been to the beach to: build sand castles, play ultimate frisbee, play soccer, lay out, go on walks, watch the sunset, watch the jumbo boats drive by.  Yeah.  I'm sooo glad I decided to come up here.
Also, on another movie-related note: I was in the redwoods last weekend.  I met up with a stranger, drove 2 hours to a friend's place (after the 2 hour drive we weren't strangers anymore) then drove another 2 hours to the redwoods: where parts of Star Wars was filmed.  Oh yeah.  We went to the beach while we were in California as well. :)
As I think about what else has transpired here in Oregon over the past couple of weeks, even though these happenings may not be related to movies in any way, I think to myself: self.  This was a good week.  I don't really feel like I'm the type of person Paul of the New Testament was, declaring my faith and religion from the tops of buildings, I did get the chance this week to share the Gospel a couple of times.  I had a chat about my mission and a little bit about why people convert with a nonmember from California, and last night, after I played Capture the Flag with the U of O students, I invited them all to church this morning.  Most of them were either drunk or high, so I didn't expect anybody to actually show up when we left.  In fact, I was so unsure about people caring, I was joking with some classmates this morning about how awkward it was inviting everybody to church.  Then, as we walk down the stairs to our cars, there Tony is, waiting for us.  He says: you guys are five minutes late.  I was so glad there weren't any crazies bear their testimonies during fast and testimony meeting.  And to be honest, it is soooo much more relaxed to bring a non-member friend to church than to bring an investigator to church as a missionary.  I should have been doing this the whole time!  (I think I made a friend tho.  Turns out he's gay.) (I was wondering why he's been sitting so close to me at meals... I hope he doesn't think I'm gay) (Although the mistake has been made before.)  (Maybe that's the reason why I kiss so many girls: to make sure people know I'm straight).
I guess to end this post, I'll end with a suggestion for the more sophisticated: Dead Poets Society.  I watched this movie this past week and enjoyed it.  Another is: the Patriot.  And The Emperors New Groove.  And that's where i'll stop.

Memories

My thoughts usually just flow onto paper, most often jumbled and confusing.  However, I have somehow managed to sit here, staring dazed at my blank screen as no words come spewing...

This reminds me of a time in high school.  I took Mythology class from Mr. Ormond in lieu of the required english class.  I can't remember the exact details of what was required in class, but I do remember a few things.

1.  He gave us a quiz once that was supposed to determine which social class we would end up in dependent on our ability to proofread different phrases.  Just like now, my grammar sucked.  I failed miserably.  They didn't even have a social class for how low I scored.  I made my own: Living in a cardboard box behind Walmart.  No.  Walmart is too ritzy.  I'd be living in a cardboard box behind DI.  Ever since then, I've put my mind to proving the man wrong.  

2.  We had to write several of our own myths: made up names, stories, adventures, etc.  My ability to procrastinate didn't begin in college, or even high school.  I was, and still am prey to the disease.  What does this have to do with writing myths? one might ask and I'll tell you:  the night before they were due.  I'd start thinking about them.  The morning they were due, I'd start writing, and they would be printed off moments before I had to go to class.  The irony of the whole situation is: every myth I turned in got full marks.  I remember also one of his remarks he wrote on my paper.  He suggested that I consider a career in writing.  Yes.  I think that might land me right behind DI.  

High school was quite an adventure.  I often find myself wishing I was back: living the dream.  Everyone knew me.  I had managed to reach my podia into just about every social group there was: the skater punks I was friends with in Jr. High (I never got high with them tho... on purpose); the Basketball team: I sat the bench for most of the season, but still I was known all over school; Student Government: I ran (against myself) and by some miracle, won; Drama: some of my best friends were in the drama clubs and I even managed, by some miracle, to hoodwink the directors of the musical to give me a solo in Titanic, the musical; I was a math nerd, choir geek, band twit, jock, etc. The sad thing is: I'm still trying to find my niche.  I'm in Oregon, playing basketball, coding in computer language, flirting, studying biology, trying to write, and be social.  

And that's what this post is gonna be about: fitting in.

All my life I have wanted to fit in.  However, growing up, with a family of 9 kids, I didn't have the wardrobe, the social skills, the nice things that were required to be in the "in" group.  I've been wearing hand-me-downs all my life. Until last year.  I totally revamped my wardrobe.  I threw out most of my hand-me-downs and went to the store.  Yes.  I still shopped for things on sale (cuz I still am running from the cardboard box outside DI), but I was a bit more picky with the clothes I bought.  However, what I didn't realize was: it comes with a price.  Gratefully enough, not monetary.  As I look back on who I've become, I'm not exactly sure I like it.  I've done a pretty good job of disguising and blending and bending to whichever group I seem to be around.  One of these days, all of the friends I've made in each group will come together and probably explode.  Or maybe I'll get the balls to just stand up and say who I am.

No matter how cliche this is, it's how I feel.  A couple semesters ago, I had an assignment to analyze a piece of art, and the description of a painting I saw is exactly how I feel now:

As humans we have different attitudes and expressions.  Many of these have been shaped into cliches by society, such as one must always have a good attitude or bad days are just a myth.  Therefore, people create a facade that other people come to expect, even if it is far from what they are actually feeling.  Sometimes these fronts are used to overcompensate for the lack of a certain quality, a temporary filler that many times is seen straight through.  Others are accompanied by events that create hurt, distrust, and fear.  Do such events cause us to change or do we just present a mask that becomes so real everyone is fooled including ourselves? Only the individual knows but many times these cover-ups are necessary to protect our own vulnerability.  --Melissa Coats

For now, I'll leave the readers with the curiosity and bewilderment of who I am, who I've been, and who I want to become.  Maybe someday even I'll figure it out.

Oregon: First half

Disclaimer:  This may take a while to read....

Alright.  So to be honest, this blog was started as a way for others to know about what is going on in my life.  The reason why is: friendship is an important part of my life, and I like to know what is going on in other peoples lives, so maybe here's a way for you, the reader to hear about some of the crazy things that go on in my life.

Over the past couple of weeks, I've come to realize my great talent to tell stories.  It's interesting how the most ordinary experiences can rivet an audience and make them laugh.  If only they get told in the right way.  The 15 of us BYU students up here at Coos Bay Oregon at the Oregon Institute of Marine Biology (OIMB) have snippets of time where we just sit and talk... or not.  With 4 hours of class every day (Saturday included), exhaustion is a frequent emotion/feeling.  Even though there is nothing wrong with silence, oh! how it is a relief to get our minds off marine life and blastopores and gastrolation and everything else.  So I look for a story.  And they are riveted.

Well, as I mentioned in my previous blog: I don't claim to be a great writer, but let me try to tell the story of being up here in Oregon.
As cliche as it may sound, I'll start at the beginning.  I don't do the best in school, and usually my summers are used to save up as much money as I can to maybe try to survive during the school year.  However, looking for a job or internship this past spring didn't start too well. (It may end well with a tentative offer up in SLC at a human disease research facility).  I was informed about a research opportunity and school trip with other BYU students up in Oregon and was asked as to if I would want to go with the group.  I answered: yes.  But I have no money.  That seems to be a common theme in my life ever since I got out of high school.  A couple weeks later, I was asked again if I would be interested in going to Oregon on this trip.  All three memories rushed back from my childhood years in Corvallis Oregon: picking blueberries, riding my bike to school, and going to the flea market for the flavored honey sticks.  How nice it would be to come back.  But the answer was still: no money.  I hope it was divine intervention and a blessing from on high when I came across a private scholarship for such a trip.  Fully funded, I signed the form to go.  And I haven't been let down.

One of my biggest worries was: they're all biology nerds.  Friends are important, and I don't know if I could be friends with their sort.  But I came up anyways with a positive attitude.  These people, even how nerdy we may be, are some of the coolest and most sincere individuals I have met!  We have become a close knit conglomeration of marine biology gurus and have a blast together!  What an amazing experience.

The majority of our time, like I mentioned earlier, is in class.  We are taking 2 classes: Marine Ecology, and Developmental Biology.  So far, the most of the classes have been drawings of different developmental stages, tide levels, marine animal interactions, etc.  To be honest... I don't see me using any of this in the professional world, but it's a great experience.  The rest of the time that we're supposed to be in "school" is done doing research.  We divided into 4 groups and are all doing research on different marine interactions.  The group that I am in is looking at the interactions of Pycnopodia helianthoides, or the sunflower sea star, and its prey, Strongylocentrotus purpuratus, or the purple sea urchin.  We are testing weather the digestive enzymes excreted from the sea star is what causes the urchin to run, or if it is something else.  So far, no defining results.

Other school related activities include field trips.  We garb ourselves with our grubbies, hip boots (boots up to our hips), cameras, and specimen buckets.  This past week we woke up at 5, 5:30, 6:30, and 7 am. to go out to the rocky shores and beaches to look at different species interactions.  Of the many visits, the most intriguing has been when, while at Lighthouse beach, a seal pup came into the cove and was swimming around calling for a friend... or so it seemed.  As we were leaving, another seal showed up and we realized, as the second seal fed the pup, that it was the mother.  That's science!  We've been able to see some pretty crazy cool specimens and have had a real great time!

In our free time, there's a glut of other activities that we participate in.  At the beginning of the trip we played a lot of speed/knockout/lightening with the OSU students who are here.  To this day I haven't won.  But they say I'm the first and probably only student to dunk on that hoop.  So I guess that's an accomplishment.  We have a nice sand volleyball court outside that we frequent, and not for only volleyball.  Henry introduced us to the glorious lazy use of the volleyball court in jailbreak: a game of wit and well, mostly luck.  We've been to the beach several times to play soccer and toss the pigskin and frisbee around.  We go to different venues like Bandon and the falls... which was an adventure I'll explain.  Getting there was an adventure because the road that we were supposed to take didn't exist... or so we thought.  It just took a while to find. Golden and Silver falls they were called.  All of these pictures are found on facebook if you're in to stalking me, cuz let's be honest: you do it already.  Anyhow, on the way back, we hear a funny noise coming from the back of the car.  To our surprise, the rear wheel was flat as a flat tire.  Unfortunately I didn't get to show off my manlyness very much as the girls did most of the swap.  They're champs.




And the food... Is amazing!!! When we were in Bandon, we stopped by the famous Fish and Chips place as well as the Cranberry Sweets candy place. I wasn't really shocked at how good it was, but still... edible.  NOT like the hamburger I tried to eat last night.  One day, we were driving home from WalMart, the only happening place in a 50 mile radius, and we see on this sign: Forby's, Home of the Burger Challenge.  And I'm not one to say no to a challenge. So we set a date and went over.  Now, I've done a burger challenge before at Fudruckers.  And I dominated it.  'till I walked outside and saw that the plants looked like they could use a little bit of fertilizer in the form of half-digested hamburger.  However, back then, I didn't prepare and I did it just fine.  However, here was a different story.  I had been preparing for something like the Fudruckers challenge... only bigger.  Well, I got half of what I expected.  It was huge!!! Three 2 lb patties with a ton of toppings.  The kicker were the sauces.  They gave me 3 darts and pointed me at a dartboard.  The first dart was for wasabi, the second for chili, and the third was wasabi again.  And they didn't go lightly on the wasabi either.  Now, if it would have been a reasonable amount, I think I could have made it through the burger at least.  However, I think they may have harvested a whole wasabi farm for my one burger.  Now, the problem was not how "spicy" it was, or whatever word you use to describe the shot of fire up your nose after you swallow it.  It was the taste that got to me.  There really is no word to describe how disgusting this burger was.  And then there was a huge plate of fries.  I served my mission in The Netherlands and Belgium.  The fries there are amazing! You pile up some mayonaise on top and chow down.  It's like heaven (clogging your arteries). These fries that I had to eat were nothing like them.  They were limp, over cooked and I swear they were made of the potatoes that rotted before they could cook them up and freeze them.  They weren't even warm! I'm pretty sure they brought them out of the fridge, where they were culturing the mold growing on them, threw them in the microwave, and plopped them on a plate.  You call those fries???  Biggest waste of money ever!!! I am repeating myself from another blog when I say: If you ever happen to be in Coos Bay or North Bend in Oregon, do everything you can NOT TO GO TO FORBY'S.

The Senses

Something that has fascinated me over the years have been the 6 senses: touching, smelling, hearing, tasting, seeing, and kissing.  Each of these have had a strange connection to our subconscious and at times, it's a pain to try and figure out the connections.  The main sense that triggers these connections is smell.

Let me start with one of my favorite smells in the world.  OK. So maybe it's not my favorite, or the best smell in the world, but it's probably the smell that brings back the most memories.  I served my mission in The Netherlands: the land of the tulips, and where everything is legal (prostitution, drugs, "medicine", etc.).  The substance attached to the smell has been said to be the "most widely used illicit substance in the world."  How about that?  Well, as you might have guessed, this particular smell is that of weed, the smell of people getting high, the smell of joy, of relaxation, of freedom, and of The Netherlands.  Now that I'm back in the states, the smell isn't so prevalent.  Here, it's illegal.  So in other words: no high, to joy, no relaxation and no freedom.  No freedom?  This is America! Come on now!  I am morally opposed to the drug, but at the same time, it brings back so many memories: knocking doors late at night, soaked to the bone because of the rain, the currency used to purchase food, the fries with mayonaise, train stations, different investigators and friends that were made there, biking through the forest, the lack of mountains, windmills, canals, flowers, clouds, stroopwaffels, the humidity, and the list goes on.  However, now that I'm in Oregon for a few weeks, the smell has been at least a little more frequent than when I was in Utah.

Another smell that triggers a connection, is girls.  Yes.  If you know me at all, I've got serious problems with girls.  From indecision of whether or not I'm interested in a particular one, to kissing too frequently too many girls, to hating them altogether.  However, each girl has a particular smell: the shampoo mixed with the lotion used and topped with their parfum. However, there are only so many different combinations of the three substances that occasionally two different girls have exactly the same smell.  When this happens, or even when a certain smell is close or related, my brain reaches into its depths to try to make a connection. Which one of my friends has this smell?  Which girl did I go on a date with who had this fragrance? Who did I kiss that had this smell? Who did I want to kiss who had that smell? It's a fascinating phenomenon.


One final smell that plays a huge role in triggering memories is that of food.  And if you know me at all, I've got serious problems here too.  But these problems aren't as serious as the others.  But certain smells of food remind me of different situations and times in my life.  Popcorn = movies. Steak = basketball (in high school, after every home game win, mother Clement made the basketball team steak.  Best grub ever!) and one that has been recently added to my list of: smell this and dry heave is wasabi.  I ate a hamburger with wasabi slathered on it.  And it was a heavy slather.  I took two bites and gave up.  I'm usually not one to turn down food.  Ever.  But this was terrible.  It was at Forby's in Oregon: the Home of the Burger Challenge.  They have yet to have someone who could do it.  However, I am confident that if their food was at least a little bit tasty, I would have dominated it:  3 lbs of beef on the burger and a huge plate of fries.  Not even the fries were cooked well.  They were limp, and burnt.  How they managed that is beyond me.  If you ever happen to be in Coos Bay or North Bend in Oregon, do everything you can NOT TO GO TO FORBY'S. The worst food I've ever had.  No wonder they have a perfect record with their burger challenge.

And Why Not?

Well, to start off, I must confess a few things:
1.  I'm not a writer.  And you might notice: my grammar sucks!
2. This blog, so far, has nothing to do with the year 1447
3. And I definitely don't have any connections to the orient. Except for my Asian friends like Jonny or Michelle.
But I thought I'd try my hand at something new.  And Why Not?

Let me tell you a little bit about myself:
I come from a family of 9 children.  Growing up, we've never had anything really nice except for each other. I don't think we've ever had a new car or a new house, and everything we own has been handed down at least twice.  My thoughts are kind of jumbled, and if I had any talent in writing, I'd probably write an eloquent segue to how I've gotten to the point where I don't hand down anything any more.  The reason being: both of my little brothers have just about outgrown me.  They both wear shoes bigger than me, and Josh, age 16, is just as tall as I.

But lets be honest: you (if anybody ends up reading this), don't really care about all this... stuff.  And why not?  Well, I just don't see my life history as... interesting.  Or connected to who I am and why.

And why not?  This phrase was coined not in the year 1447, but in the year 2009.  (Again, no relation to 1447.)  I lived in the Colony at the time with some guys who became some of my best friends.  At least some of them did.  I've always been a cautious chap and not very outgoing... until 2009 in the Colony.  I don't remember why this phrase was used or what it was in response to, but it's changed me.  I'm not very cautious any more.  I step on more feet.  I offend more people than I ever have.  And I've had more fun than ever.

This phrase also is one of the main reasons I am where I am right now: Oregon coast.  It is one of the main reasons I've met super cool people: I said yes to over 80 blind dates since 2009, yes to the festival of colors, yes to moving into an apartment with a couple of goons, yes to being president of the tall club at BYU, yes to girls who thought I was easy, or a player...

OK.  so this is getting pretty nostalgic, and the shower just opened up.  So on that note, I'll close with one of my favorite jokes: And Why Not?

Why don't blind people go bungie jumping?
Because it scares the crap out of their dogs!

That's all for now.  DUI!