Everyone Loves the Beach

Everyone loves the beach. Everyone except that little voice inside me called my individuality. George Orwell would be proud.
I just realized that those three sentences are a really good introduction to my method of talking. 1. I make an over-generalized statement that could be controversial, based upon who I speak it to. 2. I assert myself over the past the statement. 3. I reference something moderately (read: tenuously) related.

A number of very boring things have been going on in my life recently. I started running a little bit. Just up the hill and down. When I have time. I try to have time at least three times a week. I wear these shoes that Arabic James gave me when he bought a better pair. They're a little big for me, but I really feel like that's okay. I have no qualms with my foot palms sliding around a smidge on the souls. I get pretty sweaty and I've thought of buying a headband, but every time I think about it, I imagine how it'd feel on my head the first time I used it. It would be all scratchy like a tennis towel, meant to soak up liquid, but not making my forehead downy soft. So, I've put off buying one as of yet.

Florence + The Machines just came on the Spotify radio I was listening to, but it sounded like Adele, so I skipped it.

I'm finally getting a cubicle at work. This is the least boring thing in my life, right now. They let go a fair amount of people, so that left the same amount of cubicles open (minus a couple for the people that were sitting with us). I had been working at a workstation set up in a hallway, of sorts, narrowed by a couple of tables so we could have somewhere to work. It wasn't terrible, but it did get awkward when I would slouch in my chair and stretch my legs and find myself playing footsie with the guy across from me. But, what the heck, I'm a 90's kinda guy, so... Now I have a cubicle. I'll need to put some thought into how I'm going to decorate it. I should put up one picture for everything I love in this world. Unfortunately, the only thing coming to mind right now is Downton Abbey, so I'll have to work on figuring out my loves.

I've really gotten into Star Wars, lately. I bought the Jedi Knight pack on Steam, so I've been playing Dark Forces, a 1995 Star Wars game that I never got to play as a kid, though I remember the demo. Also, I've started reading "Heir to the Empire". It's supposed to be really good. I figure I should probably just get really involved with one universe because it's hard to keep all the ones juggled in my head at the moment.

I found our old MIDI keyboard. I tried to plug it into my computer to see if I could record some sick samples, but all I got was a low whispering. It was like the Raven King was at my shoulder, imparting the secret words of magic from Beyond the Veil. But, siriusly, guyz, it wasn't working. So, I don't know what to do. Plus, I've been listening to all those songs that are all synthetics or whatever. I tell people I'm into Dubstep now, but I've only listened to Skrillex's latest album. That's all, and while that's enough for the casual listener, I can't maintain this charade forever. Something's got to give. I wrote one song on the piano, though. All of the sentences start with "I Am". I thought that a little egotistical. Perfect. I'm writing another song that makes me sing low. I don't know how to computer, though.

I have yet to hear back about Japan. I knew the Consul was just making things up when they said they'd let me know in late May if I got it or not. I know I won't get an answer until mid- to late July, but that doesn't stop me from checking the mail everyday after I get home from work. It's the least boring part of my day. Because disappointment is never boring.

Today, at lunch, I paid $8.00 for two chili cheese hot dogs that cost $2.00.

I'm the Assistant Executive Secretary in the Ward, but the Exec. Sect. is gone, so I have to do what he is supposed to do. Also, the Ward Clerk just moved out. So, I'm basically the fourth member of the Bishopric.

I feel like when you talk about Church, you end up capitalizing words much more than other life.

The Reverend Randy Bott

Well, Merry Christmas one and all!
It's been over 5 months since my last update back across the sea. I'm back home for Christmas Break. I shall tell you of an adventure I recently partook in. My friend, Cory Newton, his sister, Jackie Newton, and I, Scott Ogden, went on a hike the other day. It was Wednesday. we decided to go hiking up around the Silver Falls loop.

This is what it would look like if it had actually been snowy/cold. I'll admit, it was chilly, but nothing that necessitated (<---totally spelled that right the first try) any ever-loving winter gear. I will describe my outfit, though, because I really didn't want to be frigid.

First, I wore thermal garments. Then, I had my black long johns over those. Then, on the bottom, I had my jeans. On the top, I had a blue/red plaid shirt and my sexy sweater on over that. Then I had glasses and beard for my face. And this was all my sexy hiking outfit. Maybe Cory or Jackie will get around to posting some of the photographs they took on Facebook, so we can all view the style with which I traipsed about the Great Northwest. 

I also love small towns. I really would not mind living my life in one. After my 20 in the Navy, maybe I could just move to one of them and live the life of a police officer or something. Become the Sheriff. Solve one murder in my career, but it's either linked to something supernatural or it's dramatic enough that they make a movie about it. We drove through Mt. Angel and Silverton. Mt. Angel has this big church that, upon recent inspection, I found out is an abbey and has this guy as one of their priests:

Brother Bott?!!?!?!? Silverton looks like this:

And this:

I could live there, I guess.

I suddenly lost the desire to write. It's probably because of those web searches I just did for those pictures. The internet is calling.

Paragon

Dear teh Worlds,

I, Scott Ogden, would like everyone to know that the greatest human act ever was accomplished today at about 7:00 pm Japan Local Standard Time. I was really thirsty because it's been years since I've had anything to drink besides water. But it's Sunday, so I was pretty limited in my choices. Then the single most amazing thought ever to come to anyone anywhere came to me there. I had a terrible habit of letting milk go sour. I haven't really been using milk too much and before I knew it, they'd go bad on me. But somehow, when I looked at my milk today I found that it was still in season. Even though it's been forever since I bought it. I'm pretty sure I also found the longest drinkable milk ever. Karma's a beautiful lady and totally not a female dog, ain't she? The milk was really low fat and thus the cheapest (a couple yen more than the bottle water), but I had a way to fix that! I spooned in a large amount of cocoa straight into the carton. Then I added a little bit of hot water to dissolve it and, BHAM, Scott Ogden is in some real business here. I made a whole carton of chocolate milk! From SCRATCH!!!! It was a triumph for all humanity. I don't have to make each individual cup of chocolate milk, now. I just pour straight from the carton of recently-extremely-lame-tasting-and-tasting-milk! It's a Christmas in July Miracle! Oh my gosh... how have I not been listening to that song for the past 17 days? Well, folks, I gotta go catch up on my Sufjan Christmasses in July. Just rest assured that nothing you ever do will be as good as what I did today. I reached the epitome of human thought, ingenuity, beauty, art, and strength. You can't climb higher than I did today because... there's just nothing there. There is literally nothing better than this chocolate milk incident. So, thank you, and please, my friends, have a very very goodnight.

Scott Ogden

Kwisatz Haderach

Mom wants all of these

So, my mom is all like "Scottie, you need to write down all the cute things that the kids do." And I'm all like, "Fine." But not much happened, just subtle endearment. Then yesterday something legit happened. I had just finished the day of classes at a school and was riding my bike home. I came to a train crossing and stopped because a train was coming. There were two of the school's students on the other side of the tracks waiting to cross to my side. I said hello and watched the oncoming train. I looked back at them a couple seconds before the train came and one of them was whispering something to the other. Not like I could overhear them, with the train fast approaching. I thought to myself about trying to pretend like the train hit me as it passed, to make them laugh when it had gone, but I couldn't quite figure out how to do it by the time the train had come and gone. As the train passed by us and I could see the two boys again, I found them lying on the ground, heads lolling and limbs twitching as if they'd just been run over. I burst out laughing. They stood up and laughed, giving each other high fives. I laughed myself to sleep last night.

Compartmente 2

Remember when I said I was doing a two parter and then only did one. Psyche! Well, here I am again, finishing what I started. Today I was at that school where I only have two 45-min periods out of 7.5 hours of being at the school. This is how it went.

The school is on top of a hill, so I had to build up speed on my bike to make it to the top. Then it was hard to get to the top because I just have a one-speed, so it's not like I can shift down if it gets hard to push the pedals. So, as you can imagine, I was the big bad wolf by the time I got to the top. Luckily the school was made by the third little piggy. I got into the teacher's room and said my normal Good Mornings to the gang. I didn't have a class first period, so I sat at my desk and tried to figure out what to do for class. The teacher in charge of English at the school had made some cards with different sea creatures on them and we were going to play a game where the kids would get into their lunch groups, then put the cards in the middle of the desks and their hands on their heads. When I called out the name of the creature, the first one to grab the correct card got to keep it. Whoever had the most cards at the end won. But I doubted that would take all the 45 minutes I was supposed to use. So, I devised a cunning plan. I would play a game like Jeopardy. They'd pick different spaces on a grid of varying difficulty and they'd have to give the English name for whatever creature I showed them. If they got the shark, though, it'd eat ALL THEIR POINTS!!!!! I called the game SHARK. We only got two questions in before the bell rang, though. Then I had an hour to prepare for my 4th period 3rd grade 2nd class of the day. I had not made a note of what we were supposed to be going over from the e-mail they sent me, so I did what I thought it had said: Days of the week. After introducing them, we played tic-tac-toe and the shark game. That took the rest of the class period and the team with the most points got sharked. They were so ticked and the rest of class cheered. The teacher had a talk with them after class about how that made the team feel bad. I was okay with it.

In my down time before lunch I did a couple things: prepare for class, read the newspaper, and read the book for my Japanese 443 class. I already told you about class, the newspaper was all about the PM backing down on some budget and how Japan should advocate for a world without Nukes (I whole heartedly agree), and the book is about ignorance and not letting ourselves fall into logical fallacies apparent in the world around us (I think). Then we had lunch. I thought I was going to be eating with the 4th graders, but the VP threw me for a loop and sent me to the 5th graders. Now I spend most of my time with the 3rd and 4th graders, so when I go to the older kids, they're real scary. It's like I'm back in elementary school myself and the 5th and 6th graders are the big kids. I went in spite of my fears and the first half of lunch we just sat there and ate in silence. The kids were talking amongst themselves, but no one asked me anything, so I just sat and ate my food. Then a kid at the table group I was at got a second piece of corn and all hell broke loose. We started talking about corn. Then I named him Corn-kun. Then everyone else wanted a name. I'm not much of a namer and I mostly kept to the food we had for lunch, but my favorite was Mayu-chan (he had put up two pieces of corn to his eyes, but when he took them off, some of the corn was stuck to his eyelid [mayu in japanese]. Also mayu is the name of my last companion's sister). But we were all laughing when we said Gochisosama, so I guess it turned out alright. Also, one of the kids said to me "You really like laughing, don't you?" I realized it was true. I laugh a lot. That's probably my natural reaction to everything.

Then after lunch I had three hours to waste away. I puttered around the teacher's office. The principal came in and said "What's that smell" then I realized it was probably my handkerchief into which I had excreted gallons of sweat after the climb up the hill. I hid it after that. The secretary came over and asked for my lunch money. I didn't give it to her because I forgot to go to the bank yesterday, but promised I'd bring it next week, Dirk. The English, in charge of, teacher talked to me about next week's lesson (Aka, she's a babe and wants me hard). I wrote a page or so of my young adult science fiction novel The Last Adam (it's a way intense part and I've never written a battle scene before so it took a while, okay!). I read some piece of paper about how to teach Japanese in elementary school. I finally got my 800th word for my A in Japanese 411. And a bunch of other things, I'm sure. But eventually it turned 3:30 and I left, hopping on my bike and popping in my earbuds, I listened to the Killers on the way home. Yessir, yessir, that was my Day & Age.

In Osaka I saw you last.

I first want to discuss a couple secrets of my life, as secrets are probably more interesting than any amount of travel journal entries I may be able to come up with. First secret: I am a man of many keys. Except I lost a key once. I lost my key to my apartment while out and about one night and had to get it replaced. I sat outside my apartment and waited for a man to come and change the lock. It was 11 pm. I played Bejeweled. In any event. I was given two keys when I moved in. I lost one of them, then the man gave me two more keys when he changed the lock, but he didn't take the other key from the first time. So, I should have three keys, right? Wrawng! I only have the two that the man gave me. I can't find the original. It's like there are only two keys allowed in my apartment at the same time and when more than two are brought it, any extra keys disappear. I've even CLEANed my apartment since then. Nothing. Just the two the man gave me late at night. So, that's secret number one. Secret Two: I am a man of many keys. Except I lost my bike key once. Luckily, keys come in pairs, so I had another one to use. I biked to work and put the spare key in my pocket. When I went home that day, I found the main key, not the spare in my pocket. Now I can't find the spare. I have no idea how those two changed in my pocket, but somehow they did. It's like I'm a magician, unbeknownst to me. The Unbeknownst Magician. Life is so full of secrets. And keys. Don't believe me? Through the Trapdoor.

A day in Le Vida: comparte 1

Alright, so I figured I should write about teaching. You know, the reason I'm here right now. And the thing I do the most and consistently everyday. So, today I'll write about what I did today and tomorrow I'll do the same. Today I went to the school I have the most classes at (5) tomorrow I have only two classes, but am at school the whole day, still, so I'll give you a peek into the exciting life I'm leading. Okay, so, today:

I got up at 6:30 am, but arrived a little later than normal to school today because I was watching all the new E3 videos for Mass Effect 3 and Skyrim. But I still got to school just a couple minutes past 8. I got on my bike and rode it through the little bit of houses and recently harvested fields that separate the the school and I. I'm legally obligated to refrain from using the names of the schools I go to on any social media... I think this counts. Also, I can't take any pictures of the kids, so don't expect that to happen. Sorry, these will be just words. On the way to the school, a felt a drop or two of water and hurried so as not be caught in the sudden squall I was sure was about to be unleashed upon me. But, it just slowly stopped sprinkling and I arrived without serious harm or accident to *********** Elementary school a couple minutes after 8 am on June the Se7enth.

I normally would get there a couple minutes earlier, but there were some important things I needed to take care of, okay?! Also, I had to take the garbage out, so that took forever (a minute?). I parked my bike underneath one of the staircases and walked into the entryway between the two wings of the school. The school is shaped like an 'H' with two crossbars, and in one of them there are a large amount of cubbies filled with shoes. I pulled out my white vans from my backpack and changed into them while humming Mister Rogers. I found the cubby labeled 'スコット先生'(Scott Sensei) and stuffed my shoes inside. I don't know why I wear dress shoes if I'm just going to take them off and store them as soon as I get to work. I just don't feel like doing anything different.

Entering the teacher's room, I bow and say 'ohayogozaimasu!' ('Good Morning!') and take my seat at a desk they've cleared for me as everyone replies in kind. The other English teacher, Tony, has already arrived and that's how I know I got there later than usual. I normally get to school right before Tony, but he beat me today. As I move into the room and sit down, unsatisfied with my general 'Good Morning', everyone once again says and draws from me a personal greeting. I unpack my bag: a folder with the materials for the BYU classes I'm taking, a clear plastic bag with all the flashcards I own, and a Ho-oh peachy I use to carry class materials in. I sit there and try and come up with ideas of what to do for my five classes that day. As usual, this school had not given me anything to teach and has left me to my own futile devices. So, I decide that I'm bored with teaching numbers and the kids are probably bored with learning about them. I decide, instead, to teach what Thursday's school wants me to teach: greetings. I take out the notebook I use to write lesson plans in and begin to brainstorm. No lightening, just overcast. For an hour. I look outside to the dirt field where the kids are all grouped by class and jumping rope? I hear someone on a loudspeaker telling them to do better and practice for the visitors they're having on Friday? I have no idea why. Maybe the State Jump Rope Board is sending an inspector or something. I really haven't the slightest. The secretary brings me an orange juice juice box. They used to try and bring me coffee, but decided on a juice box after telling them two or three times that I actually don't drink coffee or green tea. I felt somewhat juvenile every time I'd let go of the pressure in the straw and that trademark juice box noise would sound throughout the office, but it tasted really good and I was sad when it was gone.

Finally, with fifteen minutes before class started and a half page of 'Good Morning' 'Good Afternoon' 'Good Evening's that I'd gone over with my pen hundreds of times, I turned to Tony and said, "Tony, I was wondering if I could delve somewhat into your bottomless pit [his eyes narrowed] of wisdom. [back to normal] What kinds of activities have you done when teaching greetings?" He gave me a couple of ideas that I'd kinda already thought of. I was just unsure of letting the kids try and do conversations with each other; last time I tried it didn't work out, but his activities were kid-on-kid intensive. I decided to try it anyway. First, a game that Tony told me about called Keyword, where the kids repeat everything you say until you say the keyword, then in pairs they try and be the first one to grab the eraser sitting in between them. Then we would play musical chairs, but instead of music, they'd get to sit after doing the conversation with two people. So, with a ridiculously loose idea of what I was going to do, I set off for my first class: 4 East.

Forty-Five minutes later I returned to the teacher's room as unsatisfied as a die-hard Star Wars fan after a viewing of the prequel trilogy. The keyword game worked great, but the way I was drilling the conversation wasn't. The kids just weren't getting it and so I just scrapped it and moved on to the musical chairs game. But the kids that got out were bored and talking and fighting over who sat down first and who lost. It just didn't feel good. It was bad and the kids couldn't say the conversation at the end. Luckily, there was a short recess before the third hour of classes, so I tried to think on how to switch it up for the next four classes. Again, taking an idea from Tony, I decided on a name swap game, where you write your name on a piece of paper and introduce yourself to someone else, swapping cards, like at a business meeting. Then you introduce yourself as that person to the next person you meet and so on. I wanted to do something more with it, but the only thing I could figure out to do to end it with was me doing the conversation with every kid and following the trail until everyone got their card back. This actually worked out well with the kids. Sure, they got a little antsy during the last part when they were just sitting and watching, but they liked the name swapping and really wanted to get my card. Cute kids.

After 4th hour was lunch. I returned to the teacher's room and the vice-principal and the secretary were serving up lunch for the teachers who would be eating there. I would be eating with students, but they serve me up food at the teacher's office, anyways. I sat there with my tray of bread, Japanese spaghetti, cocoa powder covered beans, fruit cocktail, and milk waiting for the kids from 1 West to come pick me up. Finally they came in their little white aprons and we went to their classroom. I sat at a tiny desk and the teacher topped off my spaghetti and fruit cocktail. Then we ate and the kids asked me questions about myself: 'What's your favorite shell?' 'uh... Yellow?' 'What do you like?' '...?' It was real fun. Then I went back to the teacher's room and sat out recess. I was tired, but still had two more classes to teach. I'd resigned myself to the okay lesson that I was teaching and just waited for the next classes to come. Kids take a lot of energy out of you. Little rascals.

The kids had just gone swimming in the pool, so I arrived at my 5th hour class a few minutes early and found everyone changing out of their swimsuits. They had these towels that cinched up at the neck and hung low to the feet, leaving both hands free to change with. It was still a little sketchy and I opted to find a tree really interesting for a couple minutes. But that's not to say that I didn't see the straggling boys standing by their desk in just their tighty-whiteys. So weird. In any event, the last two classes went well and the kids were actually able to say the conversation by the end of the period (I have a sneaky suspicion they already knew how to ask someone's name, though). In any event, I felt the last four classes were a subdued success and feel nothing but regret for the first class. I'm pretty sure they hate me because I always try out my new lessons on them. Oh well, they'll forgive me in the years to come.

Then, with my classes done, I got my paper signed off saying I was there and worked what scheduled me to and hopped on my bike and went home. The end.