Food that I hate and will not eat:
Beats
Kettle Corn
Lemon Flavored Confection/Baked Goods
Oatmeal
Diet Coke
Pickle Relish
Cranberry Sauce
Sour Kraut
Apricots
Veal
That Spicy Mexican “candy” crap
Rice A Roni
Bologna
Crepes
Chicken Cooked with the Bone in(only exception: winger’s wings)
Foods that I am indifferent to:
97.2% of Non-Bacon pork products
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Friday, March 5, 2010
Alice in Wonderland... WAH Wah wah... (no spoilers, i promise)
I must preface what I am about to say with the following:
I did enjoy the movie Alice in Wonderland. I did. the post that follows was written in a heated moment after an argument with a friend. its one side of my opinion. paragraph 3 of this post is the other side.
My thoughts on Alice in Wonderland: BOO! things that bugged me(no spoilers): Johnny Depp was terrible and boring; the story telling was scattered and erratic; AVATAR did it first, and better; and, adding to that, all the things that people complained about with AVATAR apply to ALICE IN WONDERLAND, perhaps even more so. but because it has Depp in it and Tim Burton's name on it, no one will mention these things. no one will talk about how the story was tired and over done, the visuals unrealistic and distracting, the acting sub par at best, the theme scattered and irrelevant. no, that was AVATAR. Tim Burton is a GENIUS! how could he possibly make a movie that has all the same problems as AVATAR? its not possible. he is the leader of the neogothic, Nightmare before Christmas wannabe herd, and we will be damned if we let anyone sully his good name.
that having been said, there were things that i loved about it. the idea of alice returning to wonderland was brilliant, and a great way of bringing the same story back with out just remaking the film.
alice's costumes were AMAZING. they did a very clever thing with them. from the beginning of the show, her costumes don't fit correctly: either there are things out of place, the color isn't right, etc. once she gets to wonderland this becomes even more apparent. as alice seeks to discover who she really is, her costumes alter. at the beginning, they are torn and ill fitting and Asymmetrical, and as she develops to becoming her true self, they become more flattering and symmetrical. its neat.
the cheshire cat was my favorite character.
incorporating the Jabberwokki into it was also really neat.
so there it is. my scatter, doesn't make any sense opinion of a movie.
I did enjoy the movie Alice in Wonderland. I did. the post that follows was written in a heated moment after an argument with a friend. its one side of my opinion. paragraph 3 of this post is the other side.
My thoughts on Alice in Wonderland: BOO! things that bugged me(no spoilers): Johnny Depp was terrible and boring; the story telling was scattered and erratic; AVATAR did it first, and better; and, adding to that, all the things that people complained about with AVATAR apply to ALICE IN WONDERLAND, perhaps even more so. but because it has Depp in it and Tim Burton's name on it, no one will mention these things. no one will talk about how the story was tired and over done, the visuals unrealistic and distracting, the acting sub par at best, the theme scattered and irrelevant. no, that was AVATAR. Tim Burton is a GENIUS! how could he possibly make a movie that has all the same problems as AVATAR? its not possible. he is the leader of the neogothic, Nightmare before Christmas wannabe herd, and we will be damned if we let anyone sully his good name.
that having been said, there were things that i loved about it. the idea of alice returning to wonderland was brilliant, and a great way of bringing the same story back with out just remaking the film.
alice's costumes were AMAZING. they did a very clever thing with them. from the beginning of the show, her costumes don't fit correctly: either there are things out of place, the color isn't right, etc. once she gets to wonderland this becomes even more apparent. as alice seeks to discover who she really is, her costumes alter. at the beginning, they are torn and ill fitting and Asymmetrical, and as she develops to becoming her true self, they become more flattering and symmetrical. its neat.
the cheshire cat was my favorite character.
incorporating the Jabberwokki into it was also really neat.
so there it is. my scatter, doesn't make any sense opinion of a movie.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Theatre Heals
I just got out of SUU's "Dog sees God" today, and I will talk about the actual show in a later post, but I want to talk about what happened AFTER the show
After watching the show, my friend and I went wandering and exploring around SUU campus: so many fond memories from high school days associated with that place. and while we were exploring, we got to talking about those old times.
My best friend, Alex Sousa, and myself, have been friends since the 9th grade. It has been quite a journey together; we have gone through a lot. Not all of it was pleasant. Times when we didn’t speak, and times when it seemed we spoke to no one at all.
And I arrived at a conclusion tonight: theatre heals. we talked about insecurities and fears being overcome; we spoke of injuries and emotional wounds finding resolution in the chaos of a high school stage; and we talked about the many small, large, and even astronomical events that happened in, on, around, behind, under(long story) the stage that led to the formation of a friendship that is one of my most prized possessions.
I was in a show with a girl who, in high school, was one of the most ridiculous, horrible people I had ever met. Working with this girl honestly was painful: she thought she was better than everyone, and loved to gossip. I don’t think there was a single person in the cast that hadn’t been offended by her. It was TERRIBLE. And she was my love interest in the show. Traumatizing experience.
I went on my mission, came back and this girl and I both ended up attending UVU. And we went to a play. And started talking. Long story short, we ended up in tears, holding each other, both apologizing to and forgiving one another. And all of this stemmed from us seeing a show, and having a conversation about that show. It was pretty incredible, and she remains a good friend to this day.
I remember hating a boy in high school. Maybe I felt threatened, whatever, I hated him. I recall working on a project in a theatre class with him. We were assigned to work together by the teacher. And it made me SO miserable. We were trying to create an original concept for an Oscar Wilde piece. We started talking about how it made us feel. And the memories it evoked. And I realized something: I didn’t even know this kid. He told me stories about his past that made my jaw drop. It was unreal. That project became one of my favorite things we did that year, and he is still a dear friend to this day.
Maybe its the fact that you have to rely on them so fully in an ensemble piece; maybe its seeing people in their most vulnerable, open state. Maybe its learning the skills to walk in another persons shoes.whatever it is, theatre has drawn me to the best of people, helped me forgive people, and has healed many wounds in my life.
After watching the show, my friend and I went wandering and exploring around SUU campus: so many fond memories from high school days associated with that place. and while we were exploring, we got to talking about those old times.
So we walked. And talked.
My best friend, Alex Sousa, and myself, have been friends since the 9th grade. It has been quite a journey together; we have gone through a lot. Not all of it was pleasant. Times when we didn’t speak, and times when it seemed we spoke to no one at all.
And I arrived at a conclusion tonight: theatre heals. we talked about insecurities and fears being overcome; we spoke of injuries and emotional wounds finding resolution in the chaos of a high school stage; and we talked about the many small, large, and even astronomical events that happened in, on, around, behind, under(long story) the stage that led to the formation of a friendship that is one of my most prized possessions.
I was in a show with a girl who, in high school, was one of the most ridiculous, horrible people I had ever met. Working with this girl honestly was painful: she thought she was better than everyone, and loved to gossip. I don’t think there was a single person in the cast that hadn’t been offended by her. It was TERRIBLE. And she was my love interest in the show. Traumatizing experience.
I went on my mission, came back and this girl and I both ended up attending UVU. And we went to a play. And started talking. Long story short, we ended up in tears, holding each other, both apologizing to and forgiving one another. And all of this stemmed from us seeing a show, and having a conversation about that show. It was pretty incredible, and she remains a good friend to this day.
I remember hating a boy in high school. Maybe I felt threatened, whatever, I hated him. I recall working on a project in a theatre class with him. We were assigned to work together by the teacher. And it made me SO miserable. We were trying to create an original concept for an Oscar Wilde piece. We started talking about how it made us feel. And the memories it evoked. And I realized something: I didn’t even know this kid. He told me stories about his past that made my jaw drop. It was unreal. That project became one of my favorite things we did that year, and he is still a dear friend to this day.
Maybe its the fact that you have to rely on them so fully in an ensemble piece; maybe its seeing people in their most vulnerable, open state. Maybe its learning the skills to walk in another persons shoes.whatever it is, theatre has drawn me to the best of people, helped me forgive people, and has healed many wounds in my life.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Why i am not leaving Utah
Utah, and the inevitable Zombie hordes
So, a good friend of mine has been talking about zombies of late. In fact, we played Resident Evil 5 the other day, and it was brilliant. But as do all things undead, it got me thinking: this invasion is going to happen. Like it or not, at some point we are all going to have to deal with this. So I began to think of how. Thank goodness for people who are just as nerdy as I am and decided to write this:
A must read. But more importantly, the information gleaned revealed some really profound truths: Utah is the BEST place to be in case of zombies. And here is why:
So many reasons to live in Utah (from the perspective of a Zombie invasion)
Weather
Think about it. For over half of the year, our little piece of paradise looks something like unto this:
A zombie is NOT thinking about how cold it is. It is not thinking about frost bite, or hypothermia, etc. So every half year, there will be a major kill off. Frozen, brain dead zombies all over the place. No need to waste ammo or energy to blow them away. Just sit by the fire and listen to their bones crack in the freezing cold. And whatever you do dont see this movie, its false:
Guns
Here in good ole’ Utah, we have an entire weekend where our public schools shut down to celebrate the beginning of the deer season.(opening? Starting? Is it obvious that I am not a hunter?)
So considering that THIS guy is everyones neighbor, you have a virtually limitless supply of ammunition and weapons. I mean for goodness sakes, with Gunnies up the street, and Cabela’s just a few miles away, I have no fears of running out of bullets.
Food
Lets face it. There are Mormons EVERYWHERE in this valley. And there is nothing wrong with that, I am one myself. And because the good Lord is going to want creamed corn when he returns, most of them have amassed or are amassing some form of food storage. So with a population of over 2 million, and with somewhere between 50-72% of those people being mormon, you will have all the instant mashed potatoes and green jello your little hymn singin’ heart could want.
Women
I have been in many parts of The United States, and have oggled women at every turn. And they just plain don’t make them like they do here in Utah. So whether its a Zombie running after me screaming, or its a ass-kicking, world saving partner, I would much rather have :
Than:
So, a good friend of mine has been talking about zombies of late. In fact, we played Resident Evil 5 the other day, and it was brilliant. But as do all things undead, it got me thinking: this invasion is going to happen. Like it or not, at some point we are all going to have to deal with this. So I began to think of how. Thank goodness for people who are just as nerdy as I am and decided to write this:
A must read. But more importantly, the information gleaned revealed some really profound truths: Utah is the BEST place to be in case of zombies. And here is why:
So many reasons to live in Utah (from the perspective of a Zombie invasion)
Weather
Think about it. For over half of the year, our little piece of paradise looks something like unto this:
A zombie is NOT thinking about how cold it is. It is not thinking about frost bite, or hypothermia, etc. So every half year, there will be a major kill off. Frozen, brain dead zombies all over the place. No need to waste ammo or energy to blow them away. Just sit by the fire and listen to their bones crack in the freezing cold. And whatever you do dont see this movie, its false:
Guns
Here in good ole’ Utah, we have an entire weekend where our public schools shut down to celebrate the beginning of the deer season.(opening? Starting? Is it obvious that I am not a hunter?)
So considering that THIS guy is everyones neighbor, you have a virtually limitless supply of ammunition and weapons. I mean for goodness sakes, with Gunnies up the street, and Cabela’s just a few miles away, I have no fears of running out of bullets.
Food
Lets face it. There are Mormons EVERYWHERE in this valley. And there is nothing wrong with that, I am one myself. And because the good Lord is going to want creamed corn when he returns, most of them have amassed or are amassing some form of food storage. So with a population of over 2 million, and with somewhere between 50-72% of those people being mormon, you will have all the instant mashed potatoes and green jello your little hymn singin’ heart could want.
Women
I have been in many parts of The United States, and have oggled women at every turn. And they just plain don’t make them like they do here in Utah. So whether its a Zombie running after me screaming, or its a ass-kicking, world saving partner, I would much rather have :
Than:
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Merry Thanksgiving
Do you ever think that we think about ourselves too much? That maybe we are, deep down, more controlled by our id than by our soul? And that maybe, in the grand scheme of things, nothing we do for yourselves will really matter?
I spent some time in my life (not much, seeing as I am still very young), but some time being completely dedicated to others. For a 2 years and 4 days, I lived, ate, breathed, and cried over the needs of others, to the exclusion of all else. I watched as peoples homes were burnt to the ground, then stepped in with a shovel to sift through the ashes and a shoulder to cry on. I sat on the dirt floor of hovels that didn’t seem like they could possibly belong in America, listening to the tales of woe offered up by the poor souls who called that hovel a home, and offering them the only thing I had: a hope in the divine. I couldn’t offer them money; I had none. I couldn’t offer them a job; I myself was unemployed. But I knew that there were more important things, and so that is what I offered them.
Then I came back to the real world, and was told to start taking care of myself: Go to school, get a job, find a wife, they said. Be successful, keep the faith, make fat babies, they said. And so here I sit, making myself miserable trying to worry about someone who doesn’t matter to me too much, and who honestly needs nothing from me, thereby garnering no satisfaction.
I bring this up, not to blow my own horn, but to mention the lesson I learned: worrying about yourself sucks the happiness out of life. If all you ever do is worry about you, if all your ever plan for is things for yourself, you end up spiraling inward, convoluting like a snake eating itself until you are stuck with nowhere to go, and with no way to satisfy that inner hunger for... Something more.
So I have decided to quit. My life is relatively in order. I am in school, am working to pay for it, and am working on perfecting my craft. And so I leave it at that. How would the world be if everyone only worried about themselves? How would my life be if I had only ever worried about me?
So I offer this up to everyone who never reads this blog anyways: I am here to help. I want to help, even need to. And I suggest you do the same. Instead of lengthy lists of things we want, or things that we are grateful for, in order to assuage our latent guilt for being selfish, lets keep a private list, a list of the people that we have lifted up, and the things we have done to improve the lives of those around us.
A dear friend of mine submits that everyone is miserable, and we are all just hiding it. And he further declares that this misery is what defines us, and the hiding of it that makes us happy. Maybe he is right. I don’t know. But I think that this is a solution. If we stop living through ourselves, and start living for others, that misery can be replaced.
End of rant.
I spent some time in my life (not much, seeing as I am still very young), but some time being completely dedicated to others. For a 2 years and 4 days, I lived, ate, breathed, and cried over the needs of others, to the exclusion of all else. I watched as peoples homes were burnt to the ground, then stepped in with a shovel to sift through the ashes and a shoulder to cry on. I sat on the dirt floor of hovels that didn’t seem like they could possibly belong in America, listening to the tales of woe offered up by the poor souls who called that hovel a home, and offering them the only thing I had: a hope in the divine. I couldn’t offer them money; I had none. I couldn’t offer them a job; I myself was unemployed. But I knew that there were more important things, and so that is what I offered them.
Then I came back to the real world, and was told to start taking care of myself: Go to school, get a job, find a wife, they said. Be successful, keep the faith, make fat babies, they said. And so here I sit, making myself miserable trying to worry about someone who doesn’t matter to me too much, and who honestly needs nothing from me, thereby garnering no satisfaction.
I bring this up, not to blow my own horn, but to mention the lesson I learned: worrying about yourself sucks the happiness out of life. If all you ever do is worry about you, if all your ever plan for is things for yourself, you end up spiraling inward, convoluting like a snake eating itself until you are stuck with nowhere to go, and with no way to satisfy that inner hunger for... Something more.
So I have decided to quit. My life is relatively in order. I am in school, am working to pay for it, and am working on perfecting my craft. And so I leave it at that. How would the world be if everyone only worried about themselves? How would my life be if I had only ever worried about me?
So I offer this up to everyone who never reads this blog anyways: I am here to help. I want to help, even need to. And I suggest you do the same. Instead of lengthy lists of things we want, or things that we are grateful for, in order to assuage our latent guilt for being selfish, lets keep a private list, a list of the people that we have lifted up, and the things we have done to improve the lives of those around us.
A dear friend of mine submits that everyone is miserable, and we are all just hiding it. And he further declares that this misery is what defines us, and the hiding of it that makes us happy. Maybe he is right. I don’t know. But I think that this is a solution. If we stop living through ourselves, and start living for others, that misery can be replaced.
End of rant.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
People who make you want to be better.
Not people who make you think “oh man, I have to seem like a better person in order to be around so and so”. Thats not healthy at all. But every now and then, you meet people who inspire you; who make you see life in a different way. These people make you want to be a better person for its own sake, and for yours. These people are a rarity. They don’t appear often along the trail we take. But when they do, they are like a cool spring to your weary soul; a place to clean up, drink, rest, and then have another go at life.
In my life I have had an unusual compliment of these people: whether because I needed more of them than usual or I just got lucky, I don’t know. Either way, fortune has planted them in my path exactly when I needed them. And it is amazing where they come from.
The first instance that comes to my mind is my father. He served a mission when no one else in his family would. He came home, had a job that he lost, and had 2 kids. So he dusted himself off, worked at macey’s while going to school so he could get a real career. He gives and gives and gives to us kids, and sometimes I feel like we are just leeches, and just feed of his selflessness in a parasitic frenzy. But he has never quit. When I grow up, if I am half the dad that MY Dad is, then I will feel most accomplished.
There is a man in my ward named Ken Robinson. Ken is a great, humble man. He has a son, Ryan, age 34-ish, who is incredibly handicapped. Cant walk, talk etc. Every day for 30 years they have taken care of him. Every week they would help him into his wheel chair and bring him to church, sitting in the back row. Now he is too sick to come so they take turns staying home or coming to church. And he always had a smile, always accepted callings.
My dear friends Alex and Trevor, each in a different way, make me want to be better people. It was in large measure thanks to their great example that I went on a mission. They consistently amaze me by their focus and dedication to their life choices.
Warren Murley, my beloved friend from Abbottsford, BC, made me want to be better from the moment I met him. Were we perfect? Far from it. But together, we lifted each other and a host of other missionaries to become the best that we could.
There are few people like Sam Holley. So focused, dedicated, and completely innocent. Not stupid, not ignorant, just innocent. Pure. I miss you Sam. Everyday I woke up and said to myself I want to be more like Elder Holley. I still do most days. Everything was wonder to Sam; everything an adventure.
I have a friend. An asian friend. With more talent and drive in her little finger than I have in my(stereotype edit). I love Anatasha. She changed my life. From her first announcement of “we are going to be friends” to her most recent “I love you, buddy”. I admire her drive, courage, and her ability to love. I want to be like her someday: proud, happy and brave. Julie is my most recent example. A long lost friend, flung to the past, thought never to be found. And then there she was. And every second with her makes me realize that life CAN be beautiful. That people ARE good. And that I CAN be better. That I could choose to be happier. And because of her, I do. If you can go through the things she has, and land on your feet with a smile on your face... Well I don’t know anyone else that could, but her.
In the end, life is what we make of it; thats the lesson I learn from these. That it can be beautiful and frightening and difficult and spontaneous and full of rapture and pain, monotony and bliss. And the trick is to learn from all those times, to capture those moments, and use them to become what you want to be. To be a better person. I wonder if everyone has these people in their lives, and if they notice and appreciate them. This is attempt number one at a blog.
In my life I have had an unusual compliment of these people: whether because I needed more of them than usual or I just got lucky, I don’t know. Either way, fortune has planted them in my path exactly when I needed them. And it is amazing where they come from.
The first instance that comes to my mind is my father. He served a mission when no one else in his family would. He came home, had a job that he lost, and had 2 kids. So he dusted himself off, worked at macey’s while going to school so he could get a real career. He gives and gives and gives to us kids, and sometimes I feel like we are just leeches, and just feed of his selflessness in a parasitic frenzy. But he has never quit. When I grow up, if I am half the dad that MY Dad is, then I will feel most accomplished.
There is a man in my ward named Ken Robinson. Ken is a great, humble man. He has a son, Ryan, age 34-ish, who is incredibly handicapped. Cant walk, talk etc. Every day for 30 years they have taken care of him. Every week they would help him into his wheel chair and bring him to church, sitting in the back row. Now he is too sick to come so they take turns staying home or coming to church. And he always had a smile, always accepted callings.
My dear friends Alex and Trevor, each in a different way, make me want to be better people. It was in large measure thanks to their great example that I went on a mission. They consistently amaze me by their focus and dedication to their life choices.
Warren Murley, my beloved friend from Abbottsford, BC, made me want to be better from the moment I met him. Were we perfect? Far from it. But together, we lifted each other and a host of other missionaries to become the best that we could.
There are few people like Sam Holley. So focused, dedicated, and completely innocent. Not stupid, not ignorant, just innocent. Pure. I miss you Sam. Everyday I woke up and said to myself I want to be more like Elder Holley. I still do most days. Everything was wonder to Sam; everything an adventure.
I have a friend. An asian friend. With more talent and drive in her little finger than I have in my(stereotype edit). I love Anatasha. She changed my life. From her first announcement of “we are going to be friends” to her most recent “I love you, buddy”. I admire her drive, courage, and her ability to love. I want to be like her someday: proud, happy and brave. Julie is my most recent example. A long lost friend, flung to the past, thought never to be found. And then there she was. And every second with her makes me realize that life CAN be beautiful. That people ARE good. And that I CAN be better. That I could choose to be happier. And because of her, I do. If you can go through the things she has, and land on your feet with a smile on your face... Well I don’t know anyone else that could, but her.
In the end, life is what we make of it; thats the lesson I learn from these. That it can be beautiful and frightening and difficult and spontaneous and full of rapture and pain, monotony and bliss. And the trick is to learn from all those times, to capture those moments, and use them to become what you want to be. To be a better person. I wonder if everyone has these people in their lives, and if they notice and appreciate them. This is attempt number one at a blog.
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