Personal Bubble

Have you ever been on a bus with people standing, and yet there were empty seats?  Have you ever been to the computer lab and seen people walk past empty computer after empty computer so they could find a spot alone at their desk?  Have you ever sat down next to someone at the airport, when they all-of-a-sudden look at their watch and stand up to move?  I find it humorous that we are so hypersensitive about people popping our personal bubble.  Isn’t it funny that we live in one of the ’so called’ friendliest places in the world, and yet we go into cardiac arrest if we have to sit next to a stranger?  We can climb mountains, date strangers, give talks in church, and drive on the perilous Utah freeways but we can’t sit between two people at the movie theater.  

 As I write this post, I am sitting on the 4th floor of the BYU Library in the computer lab.  When I entered the lab with my friends Maija-Liisa and Kimberly, we found that nearly half of the computers were unoccupied.  To our surprise, however, we could not find two vacant computers one beside the other.  The lab looked like a giant checkerboard of occupied and unoccupied computers.  When I sat down at a computer, my new neighbors looked at me in shock and frustration!  They now had to move papers out of my bubble so as not to offend me, and I had to smile and apologize for putting pressure on their comfort zone.  How DARE I sit next to them?  How dare I share their air, and listen to the tikkity tack of their keyboards?  Yet as I sit watching the cloud of bitterness form over my desk buddy, something catches my eye.  I look over my shoulder and over my monitor and I see two separate couples… neither of which can keep their hands off of their mate.  It’s either one extreme or the other, isn’t it?  If you ask me we are definitely living a social faux pas.

I recently heard something interesting that goes along with our privacy perplexity.  My brother is serving a mission in Goiania Brazil.  In Goiania the city councel recently passed a bill to provide all female busses during rush hour.  The reason they offer this new luxury is to prevent the amount of groping and sexual harassment on public transportation.  I just thought I’d leave this article up here to show how silly we sometimes are, and how good we’ve really got it //www.msnbc.msn.com/id/15772398/.  Let me know what you think.

5 comments.

The W.C.

I used to hate public bathrooms.  Last week I was doing homework in the computer lab at the college I attend.  As I finished my homework and started for the parking lot to jump into my car, I got ”the urge.”  I headed to the bathroom with my backpack and jacket.  Little did I know that the public bathroom stalls are only made to accommodate anorexics and very small children.  To even come close to shutting the door, I had to stand on the toilet.  After securing my position within the stall, I proceeded through the complicated series of maneuvers required to take off my pack and jacket without dropping them on the floor, or letting them touch anything unsanitary.  By the time I had completed this task, I realized that I would be privileged to utilize the wonderful single ply, sand paper-like toilet paper.  It was too late to abandon my cause at that point, so I just went ahead and took care of business.  I apologize to those who may find this disturbing, or too graphic… but let me say that it DOES have a point.  As I sat and pondered the deeper questions of life, I came to the realization that all of my pains and inconveniences related to the series of events that had taken place within the last 3 or 4 minutes of my life had a purpose… and that purpose was almost rewarding.  I realized that if I used the public bathrooms daily, I could save upwards of $20 a month on toilet paper, hand sanitizer and other such fees.  The moral of this story? Life is what you make it.  Even some of the most unpleasant of experiences (the use of the lou in public) can be viewed with a strangely twisted and tainted positive outlook.  Bathroom going has never meant so much to me… literally.

2 comments.

Time

This is something that I wrote on my mission, I thought I’d stick it up here to get everyone’s opinion on the matter… and to see if you get my little puns.  Enjoy.

Many people say they’d like to freeze or rewind time to have a moment back, or to re-live a memory.  People who think this way are greatly erred.  it has been said that “time is the greatest teacher.”  If that is the case, we should do our best to learn from it’s lessons. Instead of living in the past, wanting an old, pre-used moment back, why not live in the future?  Build off of and improve the best of what you have of the past.

‘Past-dwellers’ rarely move forward because they believe the best is gone and the future holds no hope for something better.  ‘Future-dwellers’ are inspired, using the lessons they have received from the ‘great teacher,’ making what was great before even better after.

Visiting the past is good and healthy and helpful to inspire us.  I surely would not like to live there though.  The cost is much to great and the quality outdated and unchangeable.  The future, however, if we utilize the ‘present’ we have now, doesn’t cost so much and is very adaptable and comfortable.

Time is meant to be looked at in both ways (past and future) so we can learn from the past and make a future moment (which will one day be a past moment) better than all past moments before.  If one can accomplish this, he has paid attention in class.

6 comments.

Ducks Are Nothing But Trouble

The rumors are true. I almost got arrested yesterday. Last night was a good friend’s birthday. My roommates and I wanted to give her an original birthday gift, a gift what would go down in history. We began to brainstorm what type of present we could get her that would be unique, memorable and yet achievable. One of my roommates shocked us all with his brilliant idea. Our friend’s favorite animal is a duck. We decided that since she likes ducks so much we would get her one. We headed off to the south side of BYU campus. There, at the bottom of a huge hill we encountered our prey. We began to lure them in with chunks of delicious “Grandma Sycamores” bread. The ducks came in droves. Nobody can resist Granny Sycamore. I was armed with a large laundry bag, and my roommate had a big blanket that we planned on using as a net. As the ducks approached, I got my bag ready and made a dash for the birds. I missed by inches and scared the host of ducks away in a flutter of wings. After the first failure, we had the difficult task of regaining the duck’s confidence. We used half of a loaf of bread to accomplish this, but that half was worth it. Within a half hour, we had the ducks within capturing range once again. This time, my roommate went for them with his blanket. Yet again, they escaped (I guess you have to be smarter than a duck to catch a duck.) By this time, it was getting cold and our friend’s party was half over. We decided that the duck was no longer worth the praise we would receive as a result of it’s capture. On the way back to the care we heard the officer.

“Gentlemen!” he yelled.

I looked up and saw the dark silhouette of a slightly overweight campus police officer. I quietly yet urgently whispered to my cohorts, “Guys, get in the car.”

“Gentlemen!” came the voice once again.

“Hurry, hurry, hurry,” I urged to them. My roommates and I nonchalantly drifted toward the car pretending not to have heard the officer’s summons.

“Gentlemen, stay where you are!” the officer bellowed.

By this time, everyone but myself had made it safely into the car. After the third shout, however, I knew that we would be in for trouble if we did not pay attention to him. I stayed where I was and sighed under my breath, “Great.” I then looked up at the chubby campus policeman. “Yes officer?”

“What are you doing?” He asked us as if it weren’t obvious.

“Just feeding the ducks.” I replied.

“That’s not what it looks like to me. It looks like you were trying to capture the ducks.”

“Oh…” I replied.

I heard the static of his radio as he proceeded to report us in. “We’ve got a 40-40 here. Some kids are trying to capture some ducks.” He then made eye contact with me and asked, “Did you know that’s a citable offense?”

“No, I had no idea… do you know if it’s only citable here on campus, or is it citable all over the valley?”

The officer didn’t look too pleased with my response. “If they aren’t your ducks, don’t catch them.” He stated flatly.

“Wait, that doesn’t make sense. How can I own a duck if I can’t catch one?”

“Buy one.” Replied the officer.

“Are you serious?” I asked in a shocked tone. “You can buy ducks? Where?”

“Online. You buy them as chicks, and they grow into ducks. What did you want a duck for anyway?”

At this point, my roommates had rolled down their windows and were listening to the banter between myself and the campus patrolman. My roommate answered the officer’s question with perfect timing. “They’re good eatin’!” he shouted.

I think that for a moment the officer really believed that we were trying to catch ducks because we were starving college students. I smacked my friend over the head and told the officer that my roommate was an idiot. The authority then proceeded to question us until he had obtained all of our information and informed us that if we were caught ‘duck catching’ again, we would be cited.

Some may think that our encounter with the police officer was pure happenstance. I, however, know that it wasn’t. I have seen history repeat itself enough times to know that whenever I do something even slightly contrary to what is morally expected of me, I get caught. If I watch a questionable movie, my mother is bound to walk in on the most risque scene. If I eat dessert before dinner, my hand will be caught in the cookie jar. If I check my e-mail at work, my boss is bound to be looking over my shoulder. When we began our duck catching endeavor, I had that nagging feeling that regardless of the selfless intentions of finding a stellar birthday present for our friend, we would be seen by the wrong person at the wrong time, and most likely be punished. Such is my luck. The noble intents of my heart get me into far more complex predicaments than anyone I know.

4 comments.

Why I Am Going Insane…

Today, my friend Naomi asked me if I am going insane.  I thought about it for a minute, and realized that maybe I am.  I think I’m catching a disease from P-town.  I have come to the realization that too many people here are uptight about EVERYTHING.  Worrying has become a favorite past time.  Stressing is now the official sate hobby… and it rubs off on other people!  I think we all need to take a step back, a deep breath and relax.

I was walking home from church on Sunday and decided to be nice (believe it or not).  As we walked by individuals or groups of people, I would smile and say, “Good morning!”  Many people glanced up, and acknowledged me with a slight head nod or a quick “hi.”  Some even responded with a hearty “Good morning” themselves.  But, I would say that roughly one third of the people I said hello to just sped on by as if I were Harry Potter sneaking by on a midnight stroll through Hogwarts under his invisibility cloak (good analogy, I know).  I don’t know if these cases of unfriendliness were due to stress, arrogance, absentmindedness or my ugly face; but what I do know is that we need to lighten up.

We stress too much about being perfect.  It is important to work hard and do your best, but it is unhealthy to be a perfectionist.  As important as it is to get good grades, it’s not the end of the world if you don’t.  As important as it is to get married, you don’t need to worry if tonight’s date is the ‘one.’  We need to realize that problems ALWAYS, in one way or another, fix themselves.  As my favorite Chinese proverb states, “If you have a problem and it has a solution… why worry?  If you have a problem and it has NO solution… why worry?”  Enjoy your life.  Try worrying about putting a smile on someone’s face rather than whether the way your date touched your elbow last night has any correlation with whether he/she is your eternal mate.  My sanity depends on it!

5 comments.

Smelly Service

Well, this is my first official post other than my personal introduction.   I decided I would write about what was fresh on my mind, and also fresh on my body.  You probably would like some clarification regarding the ‘fresh on my body’ statement.  I will elaborate … but only after I set up the scenario.  

This morning I had an early start (for a Saturday) at 8:45 am.  I woke up with the warm fuzzy feeling we all get before performing service for someone in need.  Some friends in my apartment complex had organized an impromptu project that entailed beautifying our living space.  In a nutshell, we raked leaves.  I know, I know, it really doesn’t sound that exciting.  But, when you take into consideration that we filled up somewhere close to 25 garbage bags with leaves you gain a better perspective of the feat we accomplished.  The highlight of the morning, contrary to the stereotypical service project attitude, was the not ‘being done’ part of the service project, it was the part where we were almost done.  Instead of bagging all of the leaves right off, we made a heaping pile of fallen foliage and jumped into it!  I’m not gonna lie, it was fun.  The downside is that someone raked up some doggie doo doo.  The leaves smelled of… well, rotting leaves and poop.  That didn’t stop us though!  Oh, no.  We were not about to abandon our hard earned greenery gallivanting for a turd.  So jump we did.  I don’t regret it… well, I don’t regret it a lot.  The only downfall is that now my favorite hoodie smells like it was rolled in a dog kennel.  The satisfaction I received from the service performed for the hundreds of souls dwelling within my apartment complex, however, far outweighs the smell. 

            Wonder doing the Superman

                  Big Air!   

            We rake like maniacs!  

                The flying bag of death!

Thanks Sam for the help with the pics!

3 comments.

I have arrived!!!!

Yes friends, it’s true. I have officially been initiated to the wonderful world of ‘blogging.’ I hope that my life will be of some entertainment value to you. I figure if you can’t find humor in my life… you probaly just won’t find it anywhere. Anyway, feel free to give me a big happy welcome to the wonderful world of making private things public, or as most call it ‘blogging’.

4 comments.