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.

Oh Ye Unbelievers

Just a short update to let everyone know that I have friends now. Three to be exact. Their names are Kristen, Adam, and Heather. Kristen and Heather are in the branch, but Adam isn't a member (OOOOooooo!). Kristen called me today and said "Hey, we're watchin a movie, come on over," and I was all like "Kk, be there soon." Also, this is perfect because I'm working on my debut young adult science fiction trilogy "The Last Adam" and I've been dying to do some first-hand research on a guy whose actual name is Adam. It'll really help my character development. I'm sure. But, yeah, no big deal, I'm popular now.

Also, I lost my key somewhere. I think they cost, like, $50 to replace. Oops. I just played Bejeweled on my iPod til the guy showed up to change the lock. I actually think it was my iPod that made me lose my key, though, actually. Cause they were in the same pocket, I think. So, mid-bike ride I pull out my iPod to change the song and, bam, key falls out. Except it's a key card, so I kinda blame the apartment company. I mean, who's ever heard of a key-card chain? Really hard to carry around with you. Too big for the wallet. If they were wallet-sized, then... No, the real blame should be lain upon the heads of Kristen. If she hadn't invited me out to do something, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to lose my key(card). Hmmm, new friends... a curse in disguise. Well, sorry, Brad Pitt, but fool me once, Shame on you, fool me twice, shame on Troy.

Teh [secret] Babies

Alright, first off, Katy Perry's craze. Can we all just agree about that? Thank you. I was on Grooveshark trying to get a playlist for this blog writing sesh that I've set myself to when I decided that I've been listening far too much to the same six Good Old War songs and I was starting to make my mother worried. So, I said, "Hey, I'm hip! I'll just listen to whatever is on the popular tab on the left and keep up on my American culture!" The first song was some really boring song by Mr. Mars that hit too close to home today, so I skipped to the second one, E.T. by Katy Perry. I got really bored with it quick. So, I scrolled down to see if there were any songs I liked and decided to listen to Owl City. And Lo, and Behold, I'm feeling somewhat more in the mood to write. Dear Muse, now I know what Stephanie Meyers meant when she said what she said.

Okay, so, I believe there is some disconnect between the first post and the video I posted and I would like to harmonize these discordant pictures of my Japanese experience. After which, I will add another line of music that will be the predominant melody of today's choral arrangement.

When we last left our hero (anti- or otherwise), he was acclimating to his three day stay in Tokyo. Well, that Saturday, I built myself a plan. Or rather, I composed a framework for the day's adventure. I decided upon a $15 train ticket that would let me go anywhere in Tokyo for the day. The possibilities were endless. I could give you a blow by blow of what I did and how I got lost looking for the Tokyo Temple or my fumbling scholarship at the Tokyo Central Library, but instead, I will let a montage of photos quell your insatiable desire for details. Remember: These each are worth 1000 words, Ms. Lowry.

Here we see a beautiful HUGE temple right at the base of the Tokyo Tower. I thought it classic.
You know I wasted no time finding the Tokyo PokeCenter!

Tokyo Tower view of the ground. I felt so vulnerable.
The Tokyo Temple. The second time I tried this looked even worse. I just couldn't get the face right. (I wonder how many times God says that?)
Dwight, the other intern, wanted to go here. We spent a while waiting for a call girl to... call to him. We didn't get anything. Just 6 large black men that, quite literally, almost pulled us in to the strip clubs they worked for.

Then, Sunday morning we left Tokyo on the Shinkansen and bulleted across the country at speeds that would make even Neo blush. But, I don't think I'll mention it. Keanu has enough to be embarrassed about already. It took us four hours to get from Tokyo to Hiroshima. At which point, we were set loose to find our hotel all alone. Someone had met us at the Tokyo airport and taken us to the hotel, but out in H-town (to use the local parlance) we were left to our own futile devices. So, in the falling vanilla twilight, we used street cars, feet, and a good old pair of pealed eyes to find our hotel. This one was a bit more accommodating than it's Tokyo rival. The beds were approaching Queen size in all but length and the doors were locked with cards, not keys, so it was obviously more secure. Plus, there was a convenience store right next to the entrance. (Convenience stores = layman's cafeteria). Our first night in Hiroshima was spent sleeping. I had slept a good 4 hours the night before and was slowly coming down with the scratchy-throated beginnings of a cold, so I was in dire need of some rest and respite.

Monday, I awoke early (4 am is early, right? Jet Lag clouds everything), and after some furrowing around on the internet got some pastry from the Lawson's convenience store as I went in search of the office we were supposed to make an appearance at at about 9am. After an hour of searching all the buildings within a four block radius, I surmised that the name of the company was written in English and that I had passed by the building it was in four times during my search for the Japanese spelling. I arrived back at the hotel in time to find Dwight standing awkwardly outside my door, mid-knock. I told him I found the office and we walked the 1 minute to the building and pushed the 'up' button on the elevator.

Thus we began our training at the Hiroshima branch of Interac Inc. Our trainer was the perfect offspring of Kramer and Bill Murray. This kept me a little on edge for the four days we spent cooped up in that tiny room. Just the three of us. Me, the somewhat pockmarked and cynically subdued Kramer, Gary, and a chubbier and clumsier ironically-named incarnation of Napoleon Dynamite, Dwight. I felt a little lost in translation, to say the least. I often excused myself to the restroom to check the mirror and make sure I was still myself. These are the days you'll turn into who you'll be the rest of your life, just be sure who you turn into. Well, Ben Parker, I've been trying to do just that.

Each night we tried to find something tasty to eat in the covered shopping district close to our hotel. Dwight was also in search of another, larger suitcase, so we spent some time on that. I was dog tired, but I had to go and be the guide otherwise he would've gotten terribly lost. So, with the dog days being over, I tried to stay awake as long as I could and go out on the town with Dwight ever night, but, much to his chagrin, ten o'clock always found me sound asleep on my almost queen sized bed. We did make it out to the A-bomb dome, though, one evening.

It was raining fairly hard all week and the walk to and from the dome was not the most comfortable in my Toms, but I made it there and back again, so, not too much to complain about. The hollow dome, along with the numerous people who passed by it not even giving it so much as a glance, was a sobering sight. But those thought are for another more expressive medium. verbal conversation, maybe? A haunting piano melody? I'll leave that to the orators and musicians and my future self who has become both of these.

Then on Friday morning, we left our hotel and said our goodbyes. I bid my farewell to Napoleon and boarded a bus to my own island exile. I was tired, but not too tired for a listen through of Seven Swans (My favourite album at the moment, it seems). I tried to read a little, but my eyelids were in no mood to stand at attention for any amount of time, so, at ease, I quitely drifted between sweet sweet sleep and the forested hills outside. My dreams were a combination of a poignant and melancholic longing for love and the ancient groves that swiftly sped past on the opposite side of the glass I leaned my head against. Finally, subconsciously sensing a change in the road beneath, I was roused from my reverie and greeted with the magnificent views of the Seto Inland Sea. The calm water lay as a great plane between the majestic and sudden mountains that formed the many islands of the 瀬戸内海. Soon, Asia's longest bridge behind me, I stepped out of the bus onto the smallest of Japan's four main islands, Shikoku, and into Japan's smallest prefecture, Kagawa. I was met at the bus station by an individual contracted by Interac to help me get settled in. Her name was Mrs. Yano and had spent time as a student at Ricks college and BYU Provo, though she wasn't a member. Though that was twenty years ago, she still thinks fondly upon her time in the States and has kept up her English, though most of our conversations were in Japanese. Much unloading and shopping occurred that were, to be kind, boring as krade.

Eventually, it became Saturday and I was left with a day to myself without a bike. I decided to head out and take in my surroundings. I strapped a backpack on, because I felt lonely without one, and pointed myself toward a hill not far from my apartment. I was going to climb it no matter what, but I was relieved to find that the hill was meant to be climbed and trails were prepared for that very purpose. I took a fun little hike up and around the hill. Here are some pictures I found there.

Monkeys. They seemed really bored. So was I.

Here there laye Turtles. Beware.

Sunday. Haha, so, I walked to the train station and took the train two stops over. Then I walked across the city to the general area of the church (or so I had hoped). I had spied the church on the drive in. Thankfully it was on a big road. I had this long walk up to the door and I was extremely visible to the two Elders standing guard greeting all those who entered. I was a bit embarrassed, but kept a straight-face all the same. Let them stare. I introduced myself to a couple of people, mostly just those who inquired, and sat down in the chapel and waited for the meeting to begin. There were a LOT of white people. I came to learn that the reason 20 of the 50 people in the branch were American was because there is an English school in the area that hires almost exclusively LDS. And that none of these had extremely good, if any, Japanese ability. One of the talks was given in English with the Branch interpreter giving it in Japanese every paragraph or so. It felt more like Tokyo than a small branch in the smallest prefecture in Japan. I scanned the room for any young adults, but the closest I found was a chorister. A young woman probably in her mid-twenties. I decided I might as well have a crush on her, though I was unsure if I could actually have feelings for her. But, I mean, what the heck, right? I didn't spend too much time on it, though. The little girl next to me really wanted to play and talk about who in the branch I knew (no one). It was a short conversation that lasted almost the whole hour. I looked up once during the closing hymn and thought I caught the chorister's eyes glance my direction. I looked at the program and found out her name was Ogita H. Somewhat helpful. I was looking forward to Sunday School to see if this hastily-made decision of crushing was premature or premonition.

Unfortunately, I was Matt Accosted by the white people and forced into their English Sunday School and Priesthood meeting. They seem nice enough, but I was really looking forward to spending my internship in Japan with the Japanese... maybe? And/or this Ogita H. lady. So, I'm stuck between snubbing the expat social club and missing my opportunity to be with the Japanese members. And/or this Ogita H. lady. Who I finally met after church in the hallway. I was to receive a ride home from the second councilor and his wife and two kids, but the District President had shut him and himself in a room to discuss the branch, so I was left to my own futile devices in the hallway. This Ogita H. lady went up to the missionaries and talked to them. I felt a little jealous. What YSA would rather talk to Elders than another YSA? Elders are off-limits, I'm really not. Then the Elders left. I was relieved. Then Ogita H. and I put on a fun little play. I was standing in the hall as awkwardly as I could. She was doing the same on a corner a couple feet away. We both sat there waiting. I looked down, hands clasped behind my back, scratching at the floor with my shoes as if to free some dirt entwined within the carpet. And she said her first line: "Those are some pretty nice glasses." The rest is, as they say, history. In short, yes, Sandra Bullock, it was premonition.

Then I got home and did nothing for the rest of the day. Then we had a training on Monday. And I taught Tuesday and Wednesday. Today is Thursday and I've spent it inside sleeping or writing this. Literally took me three hours. The kids are great. Next time I'll prolly write about Japanese Elementary schools. I teach 3rd and 4th graders. Soo fun! If you read all of this, you must have the patience of Gob.

I made a video about my apartment! I'm in Tadotsu on Shikoku, one of the smaller of the four main island. I'll update the world about that soon. Kbye!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qks_D9bJDOs

The person who gave me this guitar/said Tokyo's scary.

Well, everyone, I made it to Tokyo safely. And, oh boy, what a trip! I woke up at 4:15 am Wednesday Portland time and have not yet gone to sleep at 8:15 pm Thursday night Tokyo time. No matter how you count it, I've been up for twenty-4 hours. Such a terrible caricature of adventure. But, I got through the flight from Portland to LAX without much trouble. The people next to me were content with talking to themselves, but not with me reading her journal over her shoulder. I was really interested in her sister-in-law's drinking problem, but I never figured out whether it turned out a happy story or a sad one. Thanks a lot, lady, for making me sad and worried.

Then I waited in LAX for the flight to leave. Talked to some people on the phone (you know who you are) and kept looking over my shoulder for the other intern, the one from the U of U. They paged him twice. He didn't show. I was concerned. Would I have to arrive in Tokyo and tell Ryan, the internship coordinator, that I'd come without the other guy? That I'd just left him crying in LA? I really didn't want to, but then they started boarding and I forgot all about it cause I got an aisle seat. Perfect for le toilette trips. And luckily the guy next to me didn't even get up once to go to the bathroom. Also, the other intern finally showed up mumbling something about a delayed flight and taking his seat next to me. He slept like a child. I couldn't. I never seem to be able to sleep well in Airplanes. That's okay, though. I've just been really tired ever since. On the plane I watched The Green Hornet, Apollo 13, and I Am Number Four. And I listened to Seven Swans over and over again. I was really tired, but the closest I got to sleep was a light doze for ten minutes two hours before we landed. Finally, though, we did land.

Turns out Dwight's (the other intern) bags were torn apart. One from another, not one from itself. One made it on the flight, the other didn't. I guess he wasn't lying about the flight being delayed. So, he's having the other bag delivered to the hotel, so it should come anytime in the next 3 and heff hours. As I was getting in line to go through customs, someone said something to me behind me. I was about to get real mad. I mean, I had been soooo good not getting talked to and plagued with idle chit-chat during this transportation-a-thon and now I was soooo close to my goal and it was being ripped callously from my trembling* hands. When I turned it looked just like any other asian person on the flight. But then she said something, like, "Hey, Scott, fancy meeting you here." I, on the other hand, could not say the same; she was asian and it was Japan. I mean, she was cute, but not enough to be independently fancy. Then I looked at her eyes and I remembered where I'd met her before. She was in my internship class this last semester. And here we were: at the beginnings of our internships. It felt like a class reunion. So, I said hey. Then continued through customs.

When I got out, I looked around for Ryan, he was supposed to be standing just outside customs. He wasn't. So, I went crazy and exchanged my money. Then, he showed up while I was getting the cash. He asked about Dwight. I said Dwight was getting his luggage worked out. Then we sat around and waited for Dwight. Then Emi (the girl from my class) came out and we talked. Then she left. Then she came back again and we talked some more. I was glad for the attention from an attractive asian girl. It will give the rest an example of how to act around me. Interested.

Then Dwight finally came out, but Ryan had gone on a smoke-break and we couldn't find him. Then we found him. Then we left and boarded a train. Ahhhhh. I am do love trains sooo much. Japan is such a nice place. We were on the train for about an hour and then we got to our station and got off and Ryan walked us to our hotel. We said goodbye to him and he said, see you tomorrow at eleven. And we were happy because eleven is later than 9. Sleep in time to the max. Then we went upstairs to view our rooms and put our stuff away. This is what it looks like:

Then I got on the internet and checked my fbook and gmail. I was so enthralled by these things that when Dwight and I went out on the town, I was utterly surprised and dumbfounded to find two Japanese business men in the elevator when it opened. I froze up. I didn't know what to say. All I had to say was "Going down?" but that seemed like too much for me. It took me the whole elevator ride to remember the word for "down."

But, so then we went out on the town. Walked up to Akihabara to the HUGE electronics store there. I got a memory card because I forgot to bring one with me and I want to take pictures. And put them up on here. Hopefully they work. Then we came home after eating at Yoshinoya (Gyudon sooo good). Now I lounge here in my complimentary yukata, writing this post. I'm really tired. I'll prolly sleep past our 11 o'clock meeting time. He said the Irish girls will be in tomorrow. that'll be fun. Ireland and all. Well, I'ma sleep and write more later.

*(With Disbelief)

There are three things all wise men fear:

the sea in storm, a night with no moon,

and the anger of a gentle man.

I, though, am no wise man and the list of my fears might be a mite longer. I am somewhat afraid of my impending re-introduction to Japanese culture and language. Tomorrow morning I shall enter an aeroplane and they will fling me over the sea. I will journey from Wednesday at noon to Thursday evening in the course of 11 hours. The sun will never cease to hang above me as I pass this day and a half. A day, a night, and a day. As if it were one day. A terrible burning re-birth will be my journey to Japan. I'll be lucky to make it out alive, much less in complete control and with the full capability of my Japanese knowledge.

Hannah Brambough told me to pack light. I intend to do just that. Well, I intended to and have done just that. I would have normally just put as many of my accumulated objects as I could fit into two bags, a carry-on, and a personal item, but she told me that when she went to China for two months, she only took one bag. I'm suspecting that's in addition to her personal item. I decided to challenge myself, then, with three bags. Can I survive with just one large bag, a small suitcase, and my Dakine ISP backpack? That's Hannah Brambough's Three Bag Challenge (HBTBC). I've decided that Hannah should marry someone with the last name of Prince, or something else that starts with a P. Prince is preferable, of course, but any p will do. Hannah, I will expect nothing less. Also, keep your maiden name as your middle. It's classy.

So, I'm leaving for Japan tomorrow morning to teach English for three months in Hiroshima. I will return on July 31st. That's a Sunday. But, that's far far in the future and I have greater desires than those tonight. I shall not focus on my return, but the looming departure, instead, and the immediate effects thereafter. I will arrive in Tokyo on Thursday afternoon/evening. My flight is to get in at 3:30 pm, which will be midnight-ish for the West Coast. Then I leave for Hiroshima Sunday morning. I have a training from 9:30 am to 1:30 pm on Friday and, as far as I know, the rest of the weekend is free. So, I find myself faced with a day and a half of nothing but pure Tokyo Madness. I wonder what I will fill this time, with. Obviously, I'll ask the hotel people what fun things there are close and I am toying with the idea of going up to Nikko and pay respects to Mr. Tokugawa himself, but I have no set plan. I feel like Tokyo is a really modern city, so my desires for ancient history are hardly satiated through those attractions, but if this is the only time I'm in Tokyo for the next couple years I should take advantage of it. This will be my first time in Tokyo, after all. I need to do all the fun Tokyo things. Like... drifting? That's really all I can think of right now.

My New Twin-Sized Bed

I almost feel bad for what I'm about to do. I've been recently looking for a journal to keep all my thoughts in so that my posterity may learn something about who I was and what I felt during this time in my life and in history. I went to the BYU Bookstore and looked for a journal once. I found them and picked one or two that I liked, but had no money, so I said "I'll wait til the next payday." Sorry, kids, you won't get any of my memories until the heat comes through. Then, when I went back after I got paid, they had moved everything around and the section in the Bookstore labeled "Journals" had turned into the "Gerald Lund" section. I thought of buying one of the Work and the Glory books and just writing "Journal" on it and calling it good, but decided to come back another time. I've been back a few times. Still just works and glories. So, I will have to get some of my emotions out into an electronic text box. It feels dirty, somehow, though.

I just wrote a really long detailed entry, but I suppose the main point I was getting at would be better represented in a line from my good friend Ben Gibbard:

I fall in love everyday

And I feel like a fool

That's the gist of this post. I'll save you all from experiencing the icky vicky details I had expounded upon in the words I erased. And I am far too embarrassed to say anything more.

Wouldn't Mama be Proud.

Megan,

So, the MTC tonight. Have you ever had anything go as like you daydreamed in your head? I have. Tonight. Ha! Let me even tell you.

So, I knew that there was going to be another volunteer tonight, so I figured it wouldn't be like last night where we had an hour and a half to talk just about Japanese. Right before I left and all the way until I got to the room that we were meeting in, I was really worried that I wasn't supposed to go tonight. Like I was concerned I was being pretentious, I mean, there was already someone coming tonight, why did I need to come? Was it for the couples or for myself? To get some sort of satisfaction out of teaching, some validation at something I felt went well the night before. So, I was nervous going in because I didn't want the couples and the cute tutor to think that I was there just to get my power trip fix. But, I went all the same. I dressed in church clothes because they'd invited me to the senior testimony meeting after the lesson. That was another point of concern. I didn't want them to think I was being pretentious in that I thought myself a teacher because yesterday went well.

So, I had all those thoughts going through my head as I arrived at the MTC. When I got to the TRC office/room and the person there told me what we were doing he said that I would be working with one of the Elders on his testimony and he gave me a sheet of vocab that we could go over. I was sad because I would only get to talk to one of them. Elder Rogers IS great, but I wanted to see them all! But when I got to the room they asked me to go to, I saw that everyone was there! I was real happy. And as I walked in Sister Rogers said "Well, now you're dressed like a man." So, my concerns about my clothes and the message they send were gone. We sang "I am a Child of God" in Japanese and I didn't have anything to look at, so I sang from memory, but I forgot some words. The first part of the night we just talked about in-field language learning plans. I still had some of those weird feelings inside running around, so I was pretty quiet. Then the second volunteer came about fifteen minutes after I got there. We finished the discussion and then started working on the testimonies. I was with the Rogers' and we went over a simple testimony. They did great seeing as how they just got to the MTC on Wednesday and had only had two days of Japanese. Sister Rogers was really working on her pronunciation and she did great. We took a little longer on that than we should have and ended a couple minutes late, around 7:05. The testimony meeting started at 7. The other volunteer left and said "Thanks" and I was saying goodbye to the Christenson's when I remembered that I had left the sheet of paper with the vocab to practice in the room. The man told me to give it back when I was done, so I went back into the room, but I couldn't find it. No one was specifically inviting me to the testimony meeting, so I was real close to just slipping away. I crossed the hall to go to the office and Sister Eckstrom, the tutor, saw me and asked "Scott, are you coming to the Testimony meeting?" "Can I?" I asked. "If you'd like to." She said. "It's easier to ask permission later!" So, completely forgetting about the vocab sheet, I followed them to the main building for the testimony meeting.

I felt really weird at the testimony meeting because I was the only one that wasn't a missionary or a MTC teacher. I was an anomaly. I again had those feelings of nervousness. A lot of missionaries got up and bore testimony in a lot of European languages. There was another Japanese missionary couple. They had an actual Japanese person as their tutor, unlike the Rogers' and Christenson's who had Sister Eckstrom, a Dutch speaker. I guessed it was the Norie they had talked about yesterday. Both of the Christenson's got up and bore their testimonies. They probably made a goal to do so because they're leaving Monday morning. Sister Rogers also bore her testimony. She did great. I was real proud of her. Then there was time and no one was getting up, so the guy asked for the tutors to get up. Most did. I wasn't a tutor, so I didn't. Then we had a closing prayer.

I said goodbye to the Christenson's and talked a little about Japan with them. I was stalling so that I could talk to Sister Eckstrom. I wanted to ask her how to become a Tutor. But, again the nervousness. I hoped that someone else would bring it up. Sister Rogers did just that. "Scott," she said, "I guess you won't be with us anymore. Thanks for all your help. You're a wonderful teacher. Why don't you become a teacher? You should work here!" and I was all like "nah, I'm not that good. Thanks. No, really. Oh you're too kind." but Sister Eckstrom was all like "Scott, would you like to work here?" but just then Sister Christenson tapped me on the shoulder to say goodbye one more time. After that, everyone left, but I caught Sister Eckstrom as she was picking up her bag to leave. "So, Sister Eckstrom," I said, "I have a question. How..." I started and she said "Do you become a tutor?" finishing my sentence. "Yeah," I smiled, "I have had the most amazing time here these last two nights and I'd like to do this if I could." "Yeah, well, I think you'd be great. I was going to tell my supervisor about you. You've been great. Let's talk to this one guy." So we talked to this one guy and he said I just needed to fill out the app online and then go in for the demo lesson and they'd call for a language proficiency check and then an interview. But I was concerned because I'll probably be in Japan in the summer, so should I apply now or wait until I get back from Japan? And he said that they could use me these next two months before school gets out. So I said I'd go home and fill out the app. Then Sister Eckstrom and the guy said great, we'll tell our boss about you, the Training Supervisor. I guess she's in charge of hiring.

So, I went home and told David all of this and he said, "Are you serious?!" because we had basically fantasized about this situation last night when I got home. "Dude, that's how you get hired at the MTC." He also said. He said he'd help me prepare my demo lesson. I think I'll go in on Tuesday and do it because I have class and then I'm doing my taxes at the Tanner on Monday, but Tuesday I have free. I'm really excited. If I really prepare and work hard to make it a good lesson, I think I have a shot at working at the MTC! Momma will be so proud.

And that's my story about how my daydreams became a reality tonight. Then I came home and watched Seven Years in Tibet with David, Jordan, and David's China girl. That wasn't really part of the fantasizing, but it's acceptable. Hope you slept well, it's 3:32 am, so I'm going to sleep now. Bye!

Scott

Some good Old fashioned Fanfic

The tap-tap-tap of a typewriter. The cool summer breeze dancing along the linen drapes. The sour smell of the correction fluid. Kate looks up from the paper and surveys her small homey office. A small room filled with too many books and too few personal affects. Her children hated it here. The many hours they had to sit and wait for mommy to finish bathing a student's dissertation in red. That's probably the reason they never visited anymore. They were all gone now. Off to school or careers, married or drafted. Kate takes a bite of her scone. She's an avid baker. And jam maker. A jack-of-all-trades, but the students just call her: Turabian.

She stands, presently, pulling back the drapes and looking out onto the quad from her third story window. He's late, she thinks, But that's no surprise. She stays standing, looking outside at the trees on the lawn, swaying gently in the breeze and she remembers past summers. Summers that she would never return to. Summers she doesn't want to return to. Just like this city, she thinks, looking past the campus to the high-rises downtown. This city is what it is, not what it was. Like me. The past is known, but the present is a vast, polymorphic branching road of possibilities. I am not defined by the past, but by the decisions I make in the present. Those show who I really am.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Turabian?" comes a voice from the door, breaking her reverie. Turning, Kate sees a young man, dressed in his school browns and holding a book bag in on hand and the stitch in his side with the other.

"Ah, yes. Mr. Marshall, is it?" She asks, though there can be no doubt. She's seen him pass by many times and sometimes from the corner of her eye she sees him standing outside the partially closed door as if to knock and enter, but never bringing himself to stretch out his hand and accept the terrible eventuality that awaits him in this office.

"Yes, John Marshall, ma'am. I'm here about my dissertation."

"Of course. Sit down, Mr. Marshall. I happen to just have finished my revision." John sits. Gulps. Holds his hands in his lap. Kate moves to her desk and picks up the paper she had been working on. Glances it over. Hands it to Mr. Marshall. Hands shaking, John takes it from Mrs. Turabian. He begins to read the red. "It's a good paper, Mr. Marshall, there's no doubt about that, but your conventions are plain atrocious."

"Yes, ma'am." Quietly. Very quietly.

"You seem not to have received even the most basic lessons in punctuation and grammar. Your research and conclusions are revolutionary, I'm sure, but until you master the basics of writing, you will never be taken seriously."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now, Mr. Marshall, I have been working on a small pamphlet for people who need help with writing dissertations. It's called A Manual for Writers and I'd like you to have the first one."

"Yes, ma'am." Barely a whisper.

Good Heavens, he's scared out of his wits.

"I'm confident that if you revise your paper according to my notes and this pamphlet that this dissertation will live up to all those grand ideas that you have in your head."

"Yes, ma'am." A little stronger.

"Thank you, Mr. Marshall, you may go now."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am." And with that, John stands up and hurries from the room, clutching his dissertation and A Manual for Writers.

That boy needs more help than I can give him, Kate thinks, turning back to her desk and picking up the top pamphlet in the stack of A Manual for Writers's first printing. But hopefully this can make up the difference. She turns again to the window just in time to see the small figure of Mr. Marshall round the bend around the library opposite and disappear. Clutching the pamphlet, she thinks, The present is a myriad of possibilities. Where will my choices take me? Where will this city take me? She loses herself in thought.

Later, She enjoys pizza Chicago Style!

Three Paragraph Essay

Oh my, the words. So many eking out of this place. I'm writing on my laptop that broke the krades. At the end of last school year, my parents came for conference (see below about chinese food). that entry was the last thing I every did on my old computer. It was the last time I ever saw my old back-pack, too. I went to conference the next day with the rents, and when I got back, those objects had been stolen away from me. Someone had walked into my house and stolen my laptop from my desktop. I was quite put off. So I got a netbook for the future use of interwebs and media consumption and possible NaNoWriMo obtainment. (Which are now coming to pass). Also, I went to Wal-Mart at the beginning of the school year for to find an new backpack. Wen I went I found ten dollar packs. I thought it a grand sign of good-will from the universe and left it at that. The face of it was a scene from mario kart. I played that a number of times this last summer and thus thought that I would flaunt the fact that I always got first in our races by having a backpack as a billboard. Recently, the face had been ripping a little and I thought it was cute. The top had almost completely torn from left to right and there was a little tare around the middle going down (But no wheat). Well, given that description, it will make the future telling of what happened more understandable. It snowed recently. I was happy because I finally got to wear all the cold clothing I love to do. When I did, at four thirty in the morning and I ran across the street to get to the other side because a really slow semi-truck was crossing University and I was scared of getting run over by it, even though it was like that one scene in Austin Powers. I don't really feel like Austin is a good British name. My bag ripped when I ran across the street in my large boots. Right down the middle. It was like all those alterpieces I learned about in Humanities 202. My backpack, that is. It now had two doors. Here is the church, here is the steeple, open the doors and all my stuff falls on the asphalt. Thanks a lot, Catholicism. So, my stuff all fell on the road and the semi-truck was barreling toward me at a good 10 miles per hour. I was panicked. I ran and picked everything up and had to go back for seconds because of the sheer amount of things that I had spread like tares upon the ground. I threw my backpack away in the nearest garbage can and just bear-hugged my books all the way to work and then bought a thirty dollar backpack at the BYU bookstore. It's mostly black, but there's some red mixed in. I opened my netbook, though and found that the screen was going crazy with cracks. So, as I write, there are a lot of places on the screen I can't see and have to hope that I spelled everything right. (<-- intro paragraph)

Now that the scene is set, time to tell my story. Today's story = Swan-san. She thinks she's all that. Swan-san is this girl in my Japanese 311R (Conversation class). She was the only girl in the class for a couple weeks because the other lady had some operation and is married. She's from somewhere in WA, so I was automatically attracted to her. She seemed kinda plain to me and her jeans and shoes would agree, but I like her haircut. Then I found out that at eight o'clock she hangs out in the film check-out room in the HFAC, which is where I work and am from 5:00 to 8:30 a.m. in the mornings. So, I started saying hi to her and sometimes asking her questions and I thought that I was making some leeway. I made her laugh a couple times when we talked and she would laugh at some of the things I said in class, so I figured she wanted me hard. A logical thing to assume, but this time these assumptions lived up to their name. Dillon was all over me once about how I need to date more and better and I was all like, fine! Maybe I will! So, I asked Swan-san to go with me to the chemistry magic show. She turned me down. She said she had to go find some boxes for some film she was working on. And she was all like "Well, maybe some other time." and I was all like "Nah, I don't like to go on dates with girls that love cardboard more than magic." Burn. Then I stormed out of the room, leaving her to think about what she just turned down. Who does she even think she is? Words untold. (<--- Body Paragraph)

I'm not a large fan of Las Vegas, I decided. So, when I'm 25, unmarried to Swan-san and wondering what to do with my life and where, I will not list Las Vegas as one of the places to do what I want. If there was a ballot that I could cast to never live in Las Vegas and the world would recognize my decision and say, "Pretty smart guy we got here." then I would, because I love recognition, so validating. Plus, it makes me miss my sunday school class I'ma supposed to teach. Although I did get a jewess to fill in for my discussion of Isaiah, I still really would've liked to be there. With the jewess. Talking about everything that Las Vegas hates, like we're kids in the middle school library trying to tick off all the other babies. Because middle-schoolers hate babies, and carrots. I only ate bagels in MIddle school and capri-suns. I wonder if they could sue me for using their trademark on my published site. I wonder a lot of things. I wish I could still eat through my belly-button. Man, those were the days. (<-- Conclusion paragraph)

Rococo

There are babies in the library. I'm also there. I haven't been in teh library for a long time, but I came because I wanted somewhere that had cushy chairs to sit in while I read Animorphs. Thank you, Dillon Fallon. You always teach me the greatest entertainment media. Unlike Upton Sinclair. I doubt Upton and I will ever see eye to eye.

I'm in the sampler section reading Animorphs on my computer, which I am now using to write this. Reading and writing: it's all I ever do anymore. Kind of. I don't really write all that much which is why I am now writing. Ellen Switzer said she read my blog, I guess to catch up on my life this past year or so, and I remembered about this and decided to write some words. I don't really have anything to say. I just saw Martin Wall for the second time in a month. The other time was just last friday night. Now you know how much we hang out. I wonder if my tick-tacking away at my keyboard is annoying the rest of the people in the sampler section. When I sat down here, there was a space of three empty chairs in a row, so I sat in the middle one to put a chair's length between me and the people on either side. Then, a couple minutes later, a girl from my Intro to Islam class last winter semester came and sat down next to me. She didn't pull anything out or start reading a book for about five minutes. I wondered what she was doing. I was going to talk to her, but then I didn't say anything in the first minute, so it'd've been weird to say something that long after she'd sat down and I'd realized who she was.

Do all seeing eye dog trainers wear tie-dye?

Finally, she pulled something out and started to read. She seemed pretty casual in her reading. Not too focused. I couldn't blame her. I was spending most of my energy on watching her subtly instead of finding out what was happening with Tobias, Rachel, and the gang. After about ten minutes of reading, she just stood up and walked away, never looking back, I know, I watched her until she went out of sight. She was Katherine. Maybe. I think that was her name. She has/had a neckless with her name written in arabic on it. Like a good luck charm. Maybe they called her Katie for short. I don't remember too much from last year. Only some things. Like the cranberry juice I bought for Jenni Boyle when I missed Dillon's golden birthday. I know exactly where it is on the shelf. If you want the same stuff I'll get it for you too.

Then I got really tired and tried to sleep for a couple of minutes. Maybe just one. Or a couple of seconds, but I decided to write on my blog first. There are a lot of books in this sampler section I wanted to read. I doubt I will, though. I doubt I'll write any, too. I wonder if my mood is affected by the music I listen to, or if I gravitate toward music that fits my mood. I wish I could step foot on the moon.

Summer Works

Hokay.

That last post was really self-absorbed and, actually, really mean. I got better. Mostly. I got friends with new people and summer wasn't too bad. I didn't do anything exciting besides go to Dillon's wedding, but I made up for it by getting new friends. I will definitely remember this summer for the people I met, not the things I did. Also, maybe Vampire Weekend. Also, MESA girl #1 (see far below).

I looked for work at the beginning of the summer. That was, after all, the reason I came home. I came home to work and save money for teh futures and stuff. Because home is really easier than rent. Also, secret purposes and motivations. Which are mostly I had a big crush on MESA girl #1 and wanted to see if anything would happen when she came home from her mish. I really didn't expect a dang thing. The contingency plan I never really believed would work.

So I was viewing around the town looking for work. And by that I mean I would get up and look at Cragslist every day hoping something good would catch my eye and give me money. It happened once. I asked for an interview at a new Jimmy John's Sandwhiches place in Portland and John said it was okay. So, I went to the Safeway Grocers I thought we were having the interview at and parked and called John. He said he couldn't see me and I said similar. Finally he communicated to me that I was at the wrong Safeway and should really try and find the real one before he was done for the day and left. I finally did in the pouring rain. Lucky for me, the store had some covered parking, so I parked there and stayed dry the whole time. Lucky for me.

I walked in half and hour late and sat and waited for him to be done with the guy he was talking to concurrently. I knew it was him because he had a Jimmy John's Sandwhiches hat and shirt on. I walked over and introduced myself. He gave me paper work and said some words about doing work. I said it sounded nice. He gave me a list of the sandwhiches and told me to memorize them and that we would have a test and training the next week.

I spent all weekend/the hour before preparing for the test. I made charts and graphs that finally made it clear. I shown up and he gave us all the test, so I sat down and wrote all the things exactly as I studied. I forgot one thing, though, on one sandwhich, but, certainly, that wouldn't hurt my chances of getting the job, right? Me neither. The lady I was sharing a table with was not prepared. She kept sneaking glances at the cheat sheet she had in her handbag. I felt that was professional dishonesty, but thought I'd let Karma teach her some lessons before I interventioned. I was the first done, like most tests, and gave it to John. He congratulated me on my hiring as a minimum wage (8.20/hr) sandwich technician. I told him thanks. He told me to come to training next week at noon on some day. I said okay. It think the next training was a Wednesday for you Chrono Trigger buffs out there.

While this was all going on my mom was saying words at me. Like, But it's farr away and we don't have carrs for all the three kids, even though only two drive, also its minimum wage and they khan't guarantee full-time hours, and such things. So I had kept looking for more work. Again, through the wonders of teh internets, I got a guy to call me for a phone interview about a gaming tech support call center job. I thought that'd be fun. I'm smart enough, after all, to talk about networks and legitimate things. He called and we talked, but when he found out that I was only home and in the area for the next couple months, he went all Nixon on me and pulled out the troops. I hung up the phone with the taste of Colored-Only Drinking Fountain water in my mouth, to use the parlance of our times. So my mom was really pressuring me not to get this job. So, I decided not to do it. I went early to my next training and was all like, thanks for life, John, but I already got a better paying and closer to home job than this one. But good luck with the store, hokay? He actually looked surprised and sad. I think he's too young to be cold enough to take it all in stride. Also, after the last training I talked to this one girl that went to sunset because I had worn my Southridge track shirt. She was a year older than me, but she seemed nice. Then I never saw her again. Also, I boldfacedly lied to John about the better job.

But then, I didn't. The very next day I was pounding the pavement building some employment opportunities when I got a call from a temp agency telling me they had a position if I wanted it. I said I did and they said they had two I could choose from. I told them I wanted the boy's toy with my happy meal. She ignored that and said I could be a data entryist or a claims operationer. The second one paid more, so I said sign me up, but she asked me if I felt I was a detail-oriented, honest person with good judgement. I, using some professional honesty, said yes, I feel exactly how you described this job must be perfect for me. So I had to go in and fill out some paperwork and she turned out to be Mormon, so that was funny, but she was moving away, so we would never see each other again. Summers are full of never agains. The place I was going to work at was called Epiq and I would be made to do things, so I said okay.

The first day was supposed to be Tuesday, but they called and said one of the training ladies was sick and that we would start on Wednesday. I went in my best suit to give a good impression, but it turned out that their dress code was really casual: jeans okay. I felt a little overdressed even though it was raining outside. They said the job would last 6-8 weeks if we were good at it. I thought that was perfect because that would end right before Dillon's wedding, so I just needed to make sure I was good enough to make it two months, though I never thought I'd actually be kept on that long. Seeing as how they let go half the people in the first week. The work was easy enough, though I had a lot of questions because I wanted to know exactly what to do. It was just looking at claim forms and deciding whether they were complete or not and if not complete, how so. I asked my supervisor a lot of questions and I thought I was being really annoying, but I did it anyways. Better to build a skyscraper than blow up the grand canyon. About a month into the job, most of the people were gone. It was down to six of us from the original group. Then they got a new group that they let go after a week or two. Then it was the six of us again. Then five. Then four. Then I went on vacation to Dillon's wedding and I asked if they wanted me to come back or whether they would just let me go. They said they'd call me if I was let go. They didn't. I went back to work for three weeks after Dillon's wedding. As things worked out, I was actually the one that terminated my employment. They all said I should come back during the holidays for a week or two. I said thanks. I don't really plan on it. I guess I was good at it, but I want to do a job that I don't turn my mind off for. Stupor. Also, my right eye started to twitch. And my wrists hurt. Hopefully this job didn't ruin computers for me. Although, I did type this all out on a computer. I guess I'm fine, then.

There were funny people at work. The girl that read a new fantasy/star trek book everyday in the break room. The lady in her 50s that muttered to herself as she put-putted away on the computer. The short asian guy that always wore a dress shirt and suit vest. The huge upright bass player who was majoring in graphic design. The U of O graduate. The HR lady that looked and dressed exactly like Catherine Zeta Jones. The large 22-year-old Indian girl that owned the warehouse. Yes, sir. It truly was Epiq. Now I'm done with work for a couple weeks until I start custodianing at the HVAC. I'm a little more excited for that job than this one. I'll at least get to stand up and move.

This summer was good. A fun break from school. I won't remember anything I did, I'm sure, but I'll remember the people I met. Because we're either new facebook friends, or because I put them in the paragraph above. That's pretty much it.