The Wood Pile

irony #1

2012-01-27T21:33:00.002-07:00

We are trying to be better people, but the most interesting characters are flawed.

Reading books about do-gooders is inspiring, I suppose, but real drama happens where there is suffering and imperfection!

InventioN!

2011-11-01T18:26:00.002-06:00

I invented breaded curry french sticks!

They taste like fish sticks but are made of potato!

Kids, God, and cakes that look like mashed potatoes

2011-10-17T09:28:00.002-06:00

Why I love kids: reason #1

Little kids are so easy to please. If you make them a cake, they will shout for joy, even if the cake looks like a mashed potato. If you sing them a song, they will say you have the most beautiful voice in the world. If you draw them a picture, they will smile and show everyone what you drew for them.

And then they grow up.

And then they learn about being "perfect."

And then they become parents, and they sing off-key and make mashed potato disaster cakes and draw stick people for their own children. Unlike their happy children, however, they get frustrated with themselves because they can't do anything perfectly, because nothing they do is good enough to impress anyone but their own children.

There's something wrong with that. There's something really tragic about that life.

I might be going out on a limb here, but I think God is like a kid. I think that God is happy when we do anything for him, even if it's out-of-tune or misshapen or looks like a Picasso without the genius. I think that, like our children, God receives all sincere gifts joyfully. He doesn't judge our offerings based on some objective scale or some abstract concept of perfection. Rather, he loves every offering with a sincere heart.

So what does that mean for today? It means that when you go do something for your family or your friends because you love them, it is a perfect gift. It's not perfect in an abstract, idealistic way, but it's perfect in the way that really matters. It's perfect because your heart is sincere.

Giving gifts isn't about impressing people. It's about showing love, and showing love requires nothing more than a sincere heart and a little time.

When you, a mother that is actually working 25 hours a day, or you, a single twenty-something who has been wearing the same pair of shoes for three years because you don't have any money, brings a lumpy casserole to your church potluck, do you think that God loves you less than your neighbor that brings a lumpy casserole and a side of rolls? God doesn't compare and receive. God is like a child with undivided attention (i promise it can happen). He receives each gift individually, and rejoices in the sincere gift.

Perfection isn't a measure of who makes the best food or who hosts the best parties or who has the most well-behaved children or who has the brightest smile. Perfection is between you and the person you're giving to, and it's a test of the sincerity of your heart.

Now here's a story, because I believe this, and because this is what gives me joy in life.

By the world's standards, I am a below-average musician. I know rhythm and scales and chords, sure, but I don't have much technical skill. Still, I love music and I love playing. At some point, I realized that I knew enough to play for others in a way that could make them smile. So I started. I learned some silly songs and wrote others, and I played when the opportunity arose. Now, I can't stress enough that these songs were performed pretty badly, despite my practice. But here's what happened:

One day I was strumming a chord progression when my niece came up and started singing along. Within a few minutes we had created a new song and she was absolutely beaming. It was pretty terrible by the world's standards, but she couldn't have been happier. We later performed it for the family around a campfire.

At my wedding reception, I played a song that I secretly learned for my wife. It was a song that she loved, and I saved it as a surprise. In the middle of the song I forgot the words completely. I strummed and strummed but nothing came! I skipped the verse and moved on. As I played I couldn't look too much at my wife, not because I was embarrassed, but because she was crying and I knew I wouldn't be able to finish singing if I looked too much in her loving eyes.

At that wedding reception I also played a duet with my wife, and the two of us played a song with a small group of friends and family to close the night. All of the songs were performed with flaws. And yet, speaking of that night, my father, holding back tears, told me how much he was touched by the music, because there was so much love in it.

Each of us can make another person happy, no matter how crummy our talents. The real measure of perfection is not found in comparison. It's found in your heart, and it's received with joy. God knows it, kids know it, and hopefully we will know it too.

Now, one year later...

2011-09-27T08:18:00.004-06:00

It's not uncommon to be swept away by a new album, but new albums often lose their appeal after a few good listens. How many of us have bought a new lp based on some good reviews and a few catchy singles, only to discover a month later that the album was just a novelty, and like too much sugar, any further indulgence makes you puke? With that in mind, I think a better way to measure the quality of an album is its staying power. After a month of listening, how do you feel about it? How about six months? Twelve? Heaven forbid you listen to an album longer than a year!

It's 2011. What albums from last year are you still listening to? Hopefully there is at least one album in your that made it past the holiday season.

Here's my list of albums from last year that I still listen to pretty regularly.

From least to most:

10. She & Him - Volume Two (a good one to listen to with the mrs.)
9. Joanna Newsom - Have One on Me
8. Surfer Blood - Astro Coast (sometimes you just need some good surf rock!)
7. Beach House - Teen Dream (this would be higher on the list, but I don't actually own it. I do stream it pretty often though.)
6. Sufjan Stevens - Age of Adz
5. Arcade Fire - The Suburbs
4. The National - High Violet (early in 2011 this would have been #1 or #2, but then I got less moody and got married)
3. Vampire Weekend - Contra (my wife likes this album a lot. we listen to it quite a bit.)
2. Deerhunter - Halcyon Digest (i have often left this album in my car for a week at a time.)
1. LCD Soundsystem - This Is Happening (seriously, I can't get enough of LCD Soundsystem.)

There probably aren't too many surprises here. It's kinda a list of essential hipster albums of last year (minus Kanye and Big Boi, probably). If you've missed out on any of these albums, however, I highly recommend them. Buying last years albums is also not a bad choice if you have a used record store nearby; people often trade them in for the new releases. Don't count on being able to find really popular albums used, though. Good luck ever finding a copy of Merriweather Post Pavillion used in Utah.

Experiment in Dance-Punk

2011-05-27T21:19:00.002-06:00

I was home alone tonight and I needed a break from studying, so I made this short sample. What do you think?

1&2 by drummermlw

I might extend it to be a whole song, and if I do I'll probably give it some real lyrics.

Maybe.

I really just want a good dance beat.

Resolution

2011-05-01T23:32:00.003-06:00

no more planning
no more thinking
no more philosophizing
no more wishing

without doing.

no more rationalizing
no more justifying
no more excuses
no more extenuating circumstance
no more exceptions

period.

questions: people and things

2011-04-29T23:55:00.004-06:00

There are so many amazing people that work hard and give meaningful contributions to the world, and I have been inspired by so many of them. Writers, musicians, philosophers, theologians, historians and others throughout the ages have given me so much and continue to shape my perceptions and understanding of the world. Their works excite and enlighten and lead me to wonder -- will I ever contribute in such a way?

The irony of it all is that the act of producing such a work might not itself be the source of fulfillment. Could it be that making those works is not life, but rather the reflections and philosophies of a life well-lived? Behind the subject of every painting and the thesis of every paper is a creator who lives a human life. Their works give us more insight into the human condition, but what is the relationship between the life and fulfillment of the creator and the work they produce? Does living a good life require one to philosophize and produce some great insight? If not, why do I feel the urge to create something that will be of value to mankind? Is it a matter of pride and validation, or is it something more noble? Is this feeling general? Does the creation and nurturing of a family satisfy these needs?

Viva La Science

2011-04-09T22:52:00.001-06:00

Hey guys. I made another song. This one is a rant from a scientist who's work was thwarted by scientific revolution.

Viva La Science by drummermlw

Animal House

2011-04-05T20:29:00.001-06:00

Hey guys, I made a song.

Animal House by drummermlw

Searching for reality

2011-03-21T23:18:00.003-06:00

This entry is a reflection on the phenomenology of Dorothy Smith, who focused on the dichotomy of concrete and abstract realities. Smith, writing in the 1960's, argued that women resided in the concrete world and men in the abstract, and because of this, the standpoint of women reflected true reality. It is a misreading of Smith to say that women have a superior essence; her argument is rooted in the dichotomy of the abstract and the concrete, not inherent gender differences.

Dorothy says there's no place like home.

Why can we not just live in the world of the abstract? Why is it important to be connected to the concrete world in some way? Is there really such a divide? Where does that divide fall? What is the concrete world, anyway? Will Dorothy and Toto ever make it back home to Kansas? The answer to the last question is yes. I'll try to address some of the others.... now.

I have often felt annoyed by the dichotomy of the abstract and the concrete and the dominant role that the abstract holds in the world today. Sometimes I feel that life would be the most enjoyable if I could just live in the concrete world and be a sustenance farmer, but usually these feelings are replaced by a sense of responsibility to 1) use the gifts and opportunities I've received and become a leader and 2) choose a life course that will enable me and my family to function easily in today's modern world. My reasons are not important. I share my feelings to point out that by feeling this way, I recognize that the ideas and disciplines that govern the world really are abstract, as Dorothy Smith argued. To be the man I want to be, engaging in abstract dialogue seems to be a necessary part. I suppose this idea is debatable, but I have yet to find a satisfactory alternative.

Accepting the existence of an abstract reality (ha, please notice the irony) and its supremacy in social and economic power does not eliminate our dependence on the concrete world, however. Not only do I feel a strong desire to be connected with the world in which I live, but I also find it necessary to sustain life. Looking past mere survival though, why else might we feel inclined to be more united with the “real” world of the concrete? Why do I feel that strong desire? I would suggest that one reason might be the different effects that abstract and concrete worlds have on people and their relations.

To engage in a dialogue in the abstract world requires training. It is inherently exclusive. Practicing law, for example, requires an undergraduate education, a law school education, and certification to practice law in a given state. Anyone can represent themselves in a court of law, but to do so effectively requires special training, and to do so professionally in behalf of another absolutely requires it. As students of the abstract progress further and deeper in their field of study, they find themselves increasingly alienated from those who do not reside in the same region of abstract space. If they travel far enough, they will find themselves utterly alone, speaking a language of one. Off in the distance they may see friends with whom they had once shared a common space, but they will see that these friends have also forged their own divergent paths leading to equally isolating spaces. Such is the phenomenon of Mathematicians who are unable to communicate with other mathematicians who reside in different areas of the “same” field.

In contrast to the abstract world, the world of the concrete is inherently inclusive and edifying. Feeding another person; caring for another's wounds; dressing a child; all of these actions belong in the real world, and are inherently for people. Real people. I do not believe it is coincidence that one of the most basic and successful social gatherings is a shared meal. In the act of eating together we find universal common ground. Diet restrictions aside, when we eat together we recognize that each of us are alike in that we need food to live and we find the experience pleasurable. Likewise, things like food or clothes are some of the most common gifts because of their universal applicability. Everyone is a partaker of these things in some form or another.

Though there is admittedly some abstract influence in the way we live in the concrete world, the final product or result is always something appreciated and understandable to all. I do not know all of the knowledge necessary for the construction of a well-designed and stable house, but I can still appreciate the finished product. As someone who lives in a house, I find relevance in the discipline of home-building. It includes me. This home fulfills a need, a need that most would argue to be universal.

In summary, the divide between abstract and concrete is a divide between alienation and edification. Things that alienate are abstract, and things that relate to people in a physical way are concrete. Though abstract occupying spaces does not necessarily prevent our social interaction, it is its inherent nature to be exclusive in some way and necessarily excludes to someone. The extent of its exclusiveness depends on its distance from the concrete world and its distance from common abstract space. Concrete things, in addition to satisfying the demands of survival, have greater potential to fulfill social needs and desires because of their universality and thus, inherent inclusiveness. Like Dorothy said, there is, quite literally, no place like home.

The Egg

2011-02-02T23:23:00.003-07:00

http://galactanet.com/oneoff/theegg_mod.html

This short story has apparently been circulating around the internet for some time, but I just came across it thanks to a friend. Finding things like this renew my faith in modern technology and its capacity to disseminate meaningful information to the masses. It reminds me that there are more results of modernism than just consumerism and empty distractions.

While I don't agree with all the ideas the story presents, there are some real gems in the dialog that are worth pondering.

How would you treat others, if every other person were you? Love thy neighbor as thyself? It's the old axiom with a dramatic new perspective. I like it.

Jamaican Friends

2011-01-30T23:45:00.002-07:00

What's the best way to spend a Sunday evening? I don't know, but making silly reggae beats with a friend is a pretty good option.

Jamaican Friends (Alan) by drummermlw

Rocks

2011-01-03T17:39:00.002-07:00

rocky

rockin'

rock solid

rock bottom

rock n' roll

on the rocks

between a rock and a hard place

rock a bye baby

under a rock

to be rocked

rock the boat

off one's rocker

rock one socks off

it's language, it's not rock(et) science.

Artists?

2010-12-04T01:02:00.004-07:00

I always looked up to artists

people that could channel their emotions

into something beautiful

something new

something novel

and yet,

familiar.

Beach: Music 1

2010-11-09T22:39:00.003-07:00

Life is a relentless tide of new experiences. With terrific force, each wave crashes down and transforms the beach on which one stands. The old geography is washed away, pushing the old beach into memory and drawing out of the sands a new reality. It's not necessarily sad - each new wave reveals parts of the beach that were previously hidden - but so many waves can knock one of his feet and drag him into the depths.

How does one remain upright in the midst of such a tide?

This is a topic on which I would like to spend considerable time. I will probably return to it periodically from different angles. Tonight, however, I want to focus on the role of music.

Like an old friend, good music consoles and inspires in times of trial and change. Good music is ever ready to listen; its interpretation and creation bow to one's emotions and cognitions. When creating music, the result is an expression of the self and becomes an understanding friend. When listening to music, the interpretation is also an expression of the self and bridges the space between the observer and the performer.

Good music also plays the role of the persuasive friend. Its character, whether bright, energetic, thoughtful or tranquil, can invoke cheerful thoughts, stimulate activity, prompt serious reflection or generate calm acceptance. Just as a diverse pool of friends enriches our life experience, so too does a diverse music collection. With each new friend, we are able to see life in a new and different way.

As the tides of life come crashing down, music reminds us of our unique nature and gives us strength to stand firm.

Music is not a replacement for God, but it is one of his gifts. There are so many things which we have been given to help us stand firm and upright in the tides of life. For me, music is but one. When I feel heavy with emotion or sorrow or concern or stress, my musical instruments invite me to share what I am feeling. They respond to my dictation, and the creation becomes an expression of the inexplicable reality. What I could not express through words takes shape in the form of a melody or rhythm and affirms the reality of my emotions. Being able to hear the expression of my feelings fosters acceptance, which gives me strength to carry on and move forward.

What role has music played in your life? Are there any artists or songs or albums that have been especially influential?

Night With the Philosophers: A Case Study

2010-10-02T00:08:00.001-06:00

Hobbes, Locke, And Kant

In the following dialogue you will observe the actions of three characters: Hugo, Lucy, and Kris. Each of the three represent the idea of *human nature expressed by the philosopher whose shares their first initial. Pay close attention to their actions and observe how they interact.

*Hugo is a human in name only.

2:13 AM. A cozy little home in suburban Provo. Hugo is climbing out of the front window with a very full knapsack hung over his shoulder. He quietly shuts the window behind him and tiptoes across the lawn.

Hugo: That was some haul! I love Provo! Not much cash, but there's always plenty of food storage. Good thing APX hasn't completely taken over the neighborhood yet.

Just then, Lucy walks by. She looks over at Hugo suspiciously.

Lucy: um... what are you doing over there?

Hugo jumps, nearly dropping his knapsack.

Hugo: Oh! Well... I'm doing what Hugo does best!

Lucy: And that would be...?

Hugo: Well duh! Preserving my life! Fulfilling my self-interests!

Lucy: By stealing food storage? Don't you think that's a little ridiculous?

Hugo: I don't understand... you're weird.

Lucy: Well, what about God?

Hugo: who?

Lucy: God. You know, the ultimate enforcer? The Punisher? G-O-D. God!

Hugo: Sorry, I'm not reading you.

Lucy: Well, aren't you afraid of getting punished?

Hugo looks around, then back to Lucy.

Hugo: Well who's gonna stop me? You?

Lucy laughs nervously.

Lucy: Ha! I'll let God take care of that.

Hugo shrugs... He looks back up at Lucy, and stares. A creepy smile.

Hugo: I like you. You're mine now.

Lucy: Wha... what?! Look, I'm all about self-interest, but if you do that you're gonna be in big trouble.

Hugo: Why are you out here anyway? It's 2:00 AM!

Lucy: I had a nightmare, which wasn't very pleasurable, so I decided it would be in my best interest to take a walk. I figure that's what God wanted me to do. Besides, I've never been up at this hour before, and I wanted to see if it really existed. Now I know that 2:00 AM is real, because I experienced it for myself.

Hugo: Well, better for me. I'm going to take advantage of you now.

Hugo approaches Lucy, who screams and tries to run. Suddenly, a shot is fired and Hugo falls to the ground, dead. Lucy gasps and turns around. Kris walks slowly over to her, smoke floating up from the end of her pistol.

Lucy: … um... thanks

Kris: Anytime. I'd never shoot a man, but he forfeit his humanity.

Lucy: um... what?

Kris(rolling her eyes): Categorical imperative! Hello! It's what makes us humans! Rational thinking?

Lucy: That's funny, I thought acting in our own self-interest is rational.

Kris(under her breath): ...dog.

Lucy: What was that?

Kris: Nothing.

Lucy: So... how can I repay you? Want to get some frozen yogurt?

Kris: Hmm... let me think... can I will frozen yogurt upon the whole world?

Lucy: Yeah, it's delicious.

Kris: Okay. Let's go.

Kris and Lucy walk down the street toward the yogurt shop. A bat flying by sees the two ladies, gets distracted, and flies into a pole. He spirals down to the ground and stops moving.

Lucy: Did you see that?! That bat just ran into the pole!

Kris: You don't know that.

Lucy(taken aback): Uh, yeah I do. I just saw it. Hello?

Kris: No, you can't really know what happened. You just saw a phenomenon that our universal category of mediation allowed us to see.

Lucy: … um... I saw the bat hit the pole. Really. That's the way it is.

Kris: Whatever.

The two continue walking in silence. They enter the yogurt shop. The screen fades to black. A disembodied voice chuckles in the background...

Voice: Ha ha ha! Doesn't she know that categories of mediation are contingent on culture?

TO BE CONTINUED...?

a spooky tale (or, things that happen after midnight that wouldn't happen during the day)

2010-09-20T01:34:00.004-06:00

I was up late writing in the kitchen because I couldn't sleep. It was a long day, a long weekend, and I had a lot on my mind. I looked lazily out the window to my left...

and froze in terror!

I gasped, and jerked my eyes away from the figure staring at me from outside the window.

Then, summoning all my courage, I turned back to examine the figure more closely...

And you know what? It was my own reflection.

Heaven help me.
I must be a wreck.

getting old

2010-09-13T22:13:00.003-06:00

I will only be 22 for a couple more hours. My friend says that it's my last day being young.

Bring on the old years! ha ha

Getting old is what we do
Our joints get stiff
Our bones get brittle
Our brains get full and then they get empty
Our families grow, or do they shrink?
Our clothes get worn and out of style
But getting old is what we do
So I will do it
Will you do it too?

But let's do it together
'Cause it's totally hip.

splode

2010-09-09T00:07:00.003-06:00

Sometimes I feel like being philosophical and figuring out questions. Other times I want to throw it all out the window.

Sometimes I feel proud of what I have produced. Other times I want to burn it.

Happiness

2010-08-05T23:18:00.007-06:00

Happiness is:

knowing what you need when you need it
fulfilling those needs
not doing things you don't need that you might do out of peer pressure

recognizing and helping to fulfill the needs of others

but if those needs are in conflict with your own?

putting others' needs before your own

but what about necessary competition, like work placement?

are there some needs that cannot be compromised?

"i will do anything for you save...?"

then what are those needs/values?

Another Poem

2010-06-14T21:52:00.002-06:00

MAN HANDS

On every man
there is a hand
a hand that can
change the world
or walk a dog
or wash a pan

Be a man
use your hand
wash a pan
for all the girls

And don't forget
to wash your hands
before you hold
your girlie's hand
for if you wash
your hands and pans
you may become
her biggest fan.

(and mine too)

Michael Wood

Garbage

2010-05-21T00:08:00.002-06:00

In every piece of stinky trash

Discarded histories lie within.

Symbols of triumphs, memories of failures,

Regrets, hopes and things that had-been.

A scribbled note has a story to tell:

This grocery list was essential in preparing a meal

Who was the guest? How was the food?

At the end of the night, how did it feel?

The best journal keepers are those we despise

The pack-rats that save everything and take up our space.

Their lives are knots of stinky memories

And in their rotting mounds of compost, everything has a place.

Memories are garbage.

Memories are precious.

We learn from memories

And memories bury us.

A Video Eulogy

2010-04-09T23:46:00.006-06:00

To commemorate the end of winter, here are a couple short videos showing two of my favorite views of the season. The quality isn't the best, but I hope you can get a sense of how beautiful winter can be here.

The first was filmed at the "Grand Canyon" of Monte Cristo, UT

The second was at the top of Wasatch Mountain State Park, UT (above Midway and Heber)

Never Say Never

2010-03-25T23:20:00.004-06:00

I've become a bit of a food snob during these past few months, and this week I ate it. After catching a nasty cold at the beginning of what was supposed to be a very busy week, condensed soups and boxed mac n' cheese became very appealing.

I have Mak to thank for that. Before she left, she happily gave me most of what was left in her pantry. There was a lot of food, some appealing and some not. Despite her generosity, I didn't plan on ever using the "lower-quality quick meals," and for three months they were pretty much ignored. All I can say is that I've been humbled. It may not be the tastiest or healthiest stuff, but when you're head could explode at any moment, you'll take pretty much anything.

...with that said though, I have to add that I can't wait to get back to making real food again.

18 months

2010-03-25T23:08:00.004-06:00

Tomorrow will mark 18 months since I returned home from my LDS mission in Boston, MA. Amidst all of the emotionally charged writing from that time, I found this little excerpt describing events of the night before flying home.

That night we stayed up in the mission home. I say that because we only slept for about an hour. Elder Torgeson, Harmon and I played Phase 10, talked about good ol' times, and snuck downstairs and ate President England's beloved blueberry swirl ice cream. We left a thank-you note in the carton.

President England loves ice cream.

What a great finish to two years of serving under his guidance. :) One year later I saw President England again. I asked him about the ice cream and the note, and with a smile he told me that he had not forgotten. It was some of the best ice cream I've ever had. President always had good judgment (and his wife too, for that matter).

I cursed a stranger, and then...

2010-03-19T17:10:00.003-06:00

It is not uncommon to witness unkind gestures or insults directed toward strangers. It doesn't take a sleuth to see daily incidents of road rage, restaurant incivility, or snarky censuring. To those who are guilty of such an offense (and I submit that all of us are), have you ever considered the possibility of meeting that person again?

Last night I went to the Vampire Weekend concert in SLC. The performance was great and the energy was high. The venue was packed with happy concert-goers from all walks of life. There were the prepubescent high school kids, the drunken adults, the poverty-stricken college kids that spent their week's food money on admission, the cautious parents escorting their underage children, and so on. Now, I'll be the first to admit that when a band I like starts to play, I don't hold back. I'm a terrible dancer, but I dance like I know what I'm doing and I try to spread the bug. My guilt lies in bumping into people that don't want anything to do with it.

So there I am, dancing and singing and having a good time, when a tall white man taps me on the shoulder. "Are you gay?!" he spits out vehemently, his eyes bearing down on me from his great height. A little taken back, I reply, "No, are you?" Either purposely or for not having heard me, he ignores my question and says, "then STOP THAT." Probably I bumped into him on accident while moving to the music. I couldn't have been the only one, however, because later I looked back and saw him there, standing like a stiff lighthouse in a kinetic sea of bodies. I would have felt more sorry if I hadn't been one of hundreds of dancing fools. It was a general admission concert after all, and we were fairly close to the stage.

Fast forward one day. I'm at the career fair at school looking for possible marketing internships. Amidst all the colorful business shirts and suits I see a tall white man in a black t-shirt. I couldn't believe it! It was the man from the night before! A dozen possible scenarios ran through my head. I could waltz on up to him and say something like, "Hey... fancy seeing you here!" Or, "Hey! Vampire Weekend! Yeah!"

That dark little spot deep inside wanted to confront him so badly. I wanted to embarrass him the same way he tried to embarrass me. I wanted him to feel like an idiot for the sake of my own amusement and the amusement of my friends. I wanted to... but I couldn't. The truth was, I didn't really want to offend anyone. Yeah, it was the perfect opportunity, but if I had, what would that say about my own character? In the end, I didn't have the courage or desire to act the way my devil wanted to. I left the career fair with hypothetical memories and a clear conscience.

But man, that would have been so perfect. Poetic justice. Something right out of a Hollywood script.

I recognize the possibility (albeit remote) that that same man find this blog and read what I've said about him. To him I say, "I like your taste in music." Maybe next time my dancing will be better and you won't think to question my sexual preference based on what you see. Maybe you will also dance next time and you'll understand that straight men can dance too. Maybe next time someone is offended, we can be a little more kind.

Personal Reflections / Learning Not to Take Yourself Too Seriously

2010-02-28T23:42:00.002-07:00

This evening I drove up to the Y Trailhead above Provo to take some time to reflect and meditate. It took me a few minutes, but eventually I found a parking space separate from all the couples "enjoying the view." I turned off the car, pulled back the chair and enjoyed the silence.

For the next hour or so I read through past journal entries, remembering poignant memories and wide-ranging emotions. As I read I was impressed with the many good people that have come into my life during the past few years and I felt a strong desire for their welfare. I saw how many good things have happened to me, and I realized how great is my need for gratitude.

Satisfied with the outcome, I ended the session with a prayer and got ready to head home. I put on my seatbelt, turned the key.... and nothing happened.

I tried again. Nothing.

I looked out the windshield and saw what I should have seen an hour before: two fading lights coming from the front of my car, sucking all the life out of my battery. My battery was dead, and I was alone on the mountain. "Well, God," I said, "You've sure got a sense of humor." Fortunately for me I wasn't far from home, and my wonderful roommate came to rescue me. I'm just glad that I have a cell phone.

I love it when mishaps like this happen in times like this. Life should be funny, and not too serious.

When my roommate arrived with a friend, they asked me where the girl was. "She ran away," I replied. In reality, I probably could have seen her 'home' from up there.

A long overdue entry

2010-02-09T00:07:00.007-07:00

Where do I start?

Most of my friends and family are well aware of the difficult and emotional events of my life during the last few months, and to them I offer my sincere gratitude. Without their support and friendship, I would be in a pretty pathetic place right now.

At the end of 2009 I said goodbye to my best friend as she left to serve a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Without going into too many details, I'll just say that independent of any personal wishes or dreams, she and I both knew that this is what she needed to do. Learning to accept that was the first challenge. Learning to live with it is the next.

In some ways the darkness of separation has brought new light to what once was. I have learned for myself, for example, that more than anything, the most valuable dimension of that relationship was the true and selfless friendship that she offered me. Her patience with me and dedication toward our joint happiness was a gift more valuable than I had ever realized. Priceless is the friend with whom you can share everything. Invaluable is the friend who, after knowing all your faults and flaws, chooses to stand by you.

With that said, I recognize that there are still many invaluable friends in my life that have stayed with me and have been a strength to me during this challenging transition. In them is hope, not just for me, but for all who suffer. There are people in far more dire and poignant circumstances than I, many of whom face threats that challenge their very physical survival. Still, no matter the tragedy, healing begins with the kindness and friendship of others. In Haiti or in our own homes, persons are lifted as far as they have a friend who is willing to reach out.

Wood

2010-02-06T22:36:00.004-07:00

I didn't do much today, but I spent a lot of time communicating and catching up with each of my family members. It was one of the best days I've had in a long time.

put your hands up

2010-01-22T23:48:00.001-07:00

There are a bunch of single ladies downstairs dancing to Beyonce.

Life is full of surprises.

Snow

2010-01-22T16:50:00.003-07:00

Snow is falling like stock prices.

(fast and hard)

Time to go outside.

Music! On my blog! Cool!

2010-01-11T22:28:00.002-07:00

On Facebooking

2009-11-05T00:25:00.000-07:00

Do you ever get sick of Facebook groups? I do. I get really tired of requests like, "If this group gets 500,000 members I will name my child Bobba Fett!" Or, "Join this group to cure diabetes!" I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but how on earth is clicking a nice little "join" button going to cure one of the most perplexing diseases of mankind?! Well, at least they provide some entertainment.

On Creativity

2009-10-31T01:08:00.002-06:00

The following e-mail exchange is one of my proudest accomplishments. On my last History of Creativity exam I lost four points on the take-home portion for not "illustrating" my booklet. In these e-mails, you will see me pleading and arguing like an idiot for those measly points. The miracle is, it worked.

Dear illustrious teaching assistants,

You are wise. You are just. You are creative.

It is because of these attributes that I come before you to plead my case. I pray that my words will have reason in your ears.

I had an exceptionally pleasant experience during the last exam, especially while completing the take-home portion. For my project, I designed and constructed a pamphlet for a fictional organization called the Society of Modern Gods. I wrote an introduction to the pamphlet, gave vivid descriptions of five of the gods that govern our modern world, and included a professional conclusion inviting the reader to learn more, suggesting that the pamphlet was not a stand-alone book, but a single reference in a vast collection of knowledge about modern gods. My pamphlet was generally well-received, but four points were withheld from me. The explanation left by the illustrious assistant was just one word; one question:

"Illustrations?"

My claim is that I did, in reality, illustrate my pamphlet, and thus, I deserve those four points withheld from me. To illustrate my claim, I point to the ambiguity of the following statement:

"Illustrate your gods using any method you see fit and turn in the completed
project as a book or pamphlet. Have fun with it!" (emphasis added)

These are the closing lines of the instructions for the take-home portion of the first exam. The instructions were clear, for the most part, but that word - "illustrate" - is ambiguous. Below are two definitions of, "Illustrate," together with their sources:

–verb (used with object)

1. to furnish (a book, magazine, etc.) with drawings, pictures, or other artwork intended for explanation, elucidation, or adornment.

2. to make clear or intelligible, as by examples or analogies; exemplify.

3. Archaic. to enlighten.

"illustrate." Dictionary.com Unabridged. Random House, Inc. 29 Oct. 2009. http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/illustrate>.

v. tr.
To clarify, as by use of examples or comparisons: The editor illustrated the definition with an example sentence.
To clarify by serving as an example or comparison: The example sentence illustrated the meaning of the word.

To provide (a publication) with explanatory or decorative features: illustrated the book with colorful drawings.
Obsolete To illuminate.
v. intr.
To present a clarification, example, or explanation.

"illustrate." The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition. Houghton Mifflin Company, 2004. 29 Oct. 2009.

Obviously the noble teaching assistants considered the first definition of "illustrate,"referring to furnishing a book with drawings, pictures, or other artwork; however, these dictionary definitions illustrate quite clearly the variance in meaning of this fine word. And is there any doubt that I illustrated my gods? Or said another way, isn't it clear that I presented explanations of my gods, that my vivid descriptions created clear mental images of how these gods live and how they influence our world today? I included histories, interviews, and scientific theories. Did these not illustrate my gods, according to at least one of the definitions I have included above?

And then there are the next words:

"Illustrate your gods using any method you see fit." (emphasis added)

As the creator of this pamphlet, I saw that my method of illustration was adequate. My descriptions were detailed and my imagery was good. According to the instructions, that should be sufficient.

In closing, I wish to say that I have enjoyed this class immensely and I feel that my personal creativity is becoming enhanced as a result of the things I have learned. I believe that my pamphlet was quite creative, in that met the requirements outlined in the instructions while employing a very lateral form of thinking. Please do not punish me for my creative efforts. Reward me. You have taught me well.

Thank you,

Michael Wood

***

Michael,
The noble TA's have heard your plea. Because they are wise, just, and creative, they have graciously decided to reward you with the points you so eloquently and humbly requested from them. They are impressed with your ability to wrest the words of their otherwise simple take-home project instructions. Do not be surprised or alarmed if they contact you when they need to eek points out of their less wise, just, and creative professors and TA's in other subject areas. They commend you for your language abilities and exhort you to put your creativity to wise and good use during the remainder of this course.

Skadoosh.

On Cleaning

2009-10-24T12:18:00.003-06:00

Question:

What do you do when there is an unclaimed bowl of chili in your kitchen that has been left to rot for a whole week?

Answer:

Let the chili speak for itself.

Three Rules You Must Know!

2009-10-10T13:56:00.006-06:00

The following paper was an assignment about status for my social inequality class. Before you read, please know that while there is some truth to these rules, they have been highly exaggerated. The dinner group I was a part of, while excellent, was made up of fun, wonderful people who really loved food.

And so without further ado, I present:

A Guide to Fabulous Flavor:

How to Woo your dinner group

During my time at BYU, I have seen the rise of informal organizations known as “dinner groups” among students and newlyweds of all backgrounds. Although many of the less-informed claim that the purpose of the dinner group is purely economical, the truly educated understand that it is much more than that. The dinner group, ideally, is a rich cultural and social experience – an opportunity for sophisticated chefs to gather and counsel together and share wisdom. For some, the idea of such a group seems daunting, and perhaps it is for the hopeless mac-and-cheese aficionados. Nevertheless, I will attempt to outline a few of the morals we hold high in our kitchens.

Rule 1: Only use the best and freshest ingredients.

If you ever hope to impress the other members of your dinner group, you must never use anything that comes in a can. Similarly, frozen or processed foods are also despicable. When preparing vegetables or using herbs, only use the freshest produce available. Don't even think about using dried spices! Whenever possible, buy locally at the farmer's market. Buy organic, even if it costs twice as much. You are a sophisticated chef, and you cannot afford to use second-rate ingredients. If you do, your guests will surely be disappointed, as their palates have been trained to detect such sloppiness.

Rule 2: Use recipes from a trusted source.

Your dinner group is well-versed in cooking literature and is up-to-date on all of the new recipes outlined on the cooking network. They have memorized last year's cookbook from America's Test Kitchen and they have marked The Pioneer Woman Cooks as their home page. Follow a recipe from a chef they admire. If you must be creative, prepare an unusual ethnic dish that you learned from a native. I, for one, found success by preparing baked chicken wrapped with bacon and drizzled with a tomato cream sauce served over warm rice with a hint of garlic and a side of slow-simmered beans. And a salad.

Rule 3: Be informed and engage in enlightening conversation

This rule, while important, is not as important as the previous two. Fortunately for you, assuming you have obeyed the first two rules, you will have an ample list of topics from which you can draw. In essence, you have gathered all the essential ingredients, making it a simple matter of reading the recipe. Tell your friends about the special ingredients included in your elegant meal. Like Homer of old, assume the role of the bard. Relate your epic search for the whole native pepperberries used in your cream sauce, or share your technique employed in the preparation of the basil chiffonade. When you have exhausted your ingredient-stories (which is unlikely) you may move on to the next subject – the chefs and shows that serve as inspiration. Have caution here; conversations like these can last the whole night. I know.

I wish you the best of luck as you seek to earn status in your very own dinner group. Remember: Fresh is best. Learn or burn. Share if you care. Follow these and you are guaranteed to succeed. Now, excuse me – I must return to the kitchen. My ramen is burning.

An Opportune Moment.

2009-09-09T21:08:00.001-06:00

909090909

|, ||, |||, ||||...

2009-09-02T23:42:00.005-06:00

I told some friends that I would post something tonight that would change their lives forever, so here it is: my thoughts on tally marks.

I do not claim to have a knowledge of tally marks used around the world, but I know that in the United States we rarely see anything other than the traditional "four vertical lines and a dash" method. This system, while useful, has some inherent flaws. Difficulty in creating parallel lines, limited spacing, and high repetitiveness create errors in both the reading and writing of the tally marks. Have you ever incorrectly included a sixth mark in a set of five marks? I certainly have. How about in the classroom - have you ever felt like you were taking (and failing) an eye exam as you tried to count the number of parallel lines on the other side of the room?

For anyone who has ever been frustrated with tally marks I present an alternate method, taught to me a few years ago by a Brazilian friend.

Instead of drawing four parallel lines, one counts to five by outlining a box and then drawing a dash through the middle. It is easy to read and distinguish any stage, even from far away. The drawing of the box makes it easy to keep track of where you are, eliminating those mysterious sixth tallies. And finally, the boxes are totally enclosed, reducing the likelihood of misreading two separate sets as something combined.

But don't take my word for it! Try it! I think you will find this method easier and more aesthetically pleasing. In short, it will bring you more happiness, which is what I'm all about. :)

Do you know of any other ways to mark tallies? Do share!

Saturday

2009-08-30T00:29:00.005-06:00

I love:

morning hikes
hearty breakfasts
farmer's markets
fresh vegetables
community events
libraries
music and dancing
old friends
new friends
pizza and salad
laughing
s'mores
late-night conversations

Saturdays.

This I Believe

2009-08-24T01:32:00.011-06:00

Reach Outward

"To find real happiness, we must seek for it in a focus outside ourselves. No one has learned the meaning of living until he has surrendered his ego to the service of his fellow man. Service to others is akin to duty, the fulfillment of which brings true joy."

- President Thomas S. Monson

UVU commencement exercises, 1 May 2009

***

"Do you want capability, safety, and security in dating and romance, in married life and eternity? Be a true disciple of Jesus. Be a genuine, committed, word-and-deed Latter-day Saint. Believe that your faith has everything to do with your romance, because it does. You separate dating from discipleship at your peril. Jesus Christ, the Light of the World, is the only lamp by which you can successfully see the path of love and happiness. How should I love thee? As He does, for that way 'never faileth.'"

- Elder Jeffery R. Holland

New Era, Oct 2003, 4

a bit of wisdom

2009-08-22T10:05:00.000-06:00

If you can smile when things go wrong,

And say it doesn't matter,

If you can laugh off cares and woe,

And trouble makes you fatter,

If you can keep a cheerful face

When all around are blue,

Then have your head examined, bud,

There's something wrong with you.

For one thing I've arrived at:

There are no ands and buts,

A guy that's grinning all the time

Must be completely nuts.

-Boyd K. Packer-

2009-07-17T21:46:00.002-06:00

No one, neither smoker nor non-smoker, can enjoy Brazil without a cigarette.

Twilight Scramble

2009-06-18T01:11:00.004-06:00

I do this every time.

I put off packing until there is no time to sleep. I will be boarding a plane in 12 hours.

I'm so excited/nervous/tired.

A Happy Fool

2009-06-13T00:04:00.003-06:00

Some people have called me oblivious to the world around me, and I think they are correct. Fortunately, that is not always a bad thing, as was proven tonight. My friends threw a surprise party for me and it was a great success!

I had no idea what was going on. I thought we were going to go out for dinner, but my friends kept delaying so I waited patiently, killing time by waxing philosophically with my roommates and listening to one of them remix songs on his laptop. That's just what we do here. True story.

After a while my roommates slipped away one by one. I hardly noticed, until there were just two of us left in the apartment. My one remaining roommate said, "I'm gonna go see what's up," and so I decided to follow him. He went straight to the apartment of the friends I was waiting for, so I tagged along, thinking that this was a good opportunity to investigate the delay. My hunger was eating my patience.

The apartment door swung open and my roommate jumped inside. I followed him inside, but to my surprise, there was no one in sight. Suddenly, the silence was broken by a chorus of "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow" coming from the kitchen. A small choir marched around the corner into the entryway where my roommate and I stood and continued singing. Now here's a testament to my own obliviousness: I joined them in singing, completely clueless as to what they were singing for! It wasn't until I saw one of them holding a cake with the Brazilian flag on it that I understood and shut my mouth...

I have such wonderful friends. :)

Display on the wall in colorful letters were the words, "Farewell, Mike! We <3 You!" In addition to a beautiful and delicious chocolate cake, a full spaghetti dinner had been prepared. They said they wanted to cook for me for a change, and they did a tremendous job. I don't think I've ever eaten a meal prepared more lovingly than this one.

Thank you friends, for exploiting my weakness in a most loving and extraordinary way. :)

An invitation.

2009-05-24T23:30:00.002-06:00

Hello. My name is Michael. I like rain. I like umbrellas too.

Jumping is what I do.

Will you jump in the rain with me?

One book, so many victims

2009-05-23T22:57:00.002-06:00

Who do you pity? The insect, the book, or the college student who scraped the corpse off the stained page?

Or perhaps you pity the author, who although dead, had his work defiled. What about the reader, who closed the book at an untimely moment and has had to live with the guilt of destroying so many a happiness?

What about those who will yet read this book and find this stain, not knowing its bloody history?

Or what about you, who is reading this page and looking at a picture of a smashed bug? I pity you.

Foo'

On sowing.

2009-05-02T10:00:00.003-06:00

I played the drums growing up, which led me to listen to very technical music with syncopated rhythms and lots of heavy hitting. My favorite of these groups was Dream Theater, who I would argue has the best rock drummer (and possibly guitarist and keyboardist) in the world. Listening to a Dream Theater album is an experience; it's like reading a good novel, taking the audience through a colorful and richly detailed world. You can't listen to single tracks on a Dream Theater album by themselves -- that would be like reading a single chapter out of a book. The music is masterful and demands appreciation.

I shared my interest with a few of my friends, but due to the heaviness of the music and general pop-unfriendliness few became fans.

And then I went on a mission, and Dream Theater dropped from my thoughts for more than two years.

Upon returning, I find out that one of my friends to whom I introduced Dream Theater has become a superfan. Not a fan, but a fanatic. I spent some time with him and another friend last night. We played Risk, and whenever we weren't talking about our ill-fated strategies, we were discussing Dream Theater. Actually, that's not accurate. He was talking to me about Dream Theater. I listened, and the other friend ignored us completely, absorbed in his diabolical scheming to wipe the red and black pieces off the board.

After he successfully annhilated our distracted armies, my uninterested friend began to clean and I continued discussing Dream Theater with the first. After two hours, my friend's kitchen looked like an immaculate set on a cooking show, worthy of Rachel Ray or Martha Stewart. He had cleaned the floor and all the dishes until they reflected light and had began searching corners for lone dust bunnies. And still my other friend discussed the technical genius of Dream Theater.

I had many conflicting feelings that night. First, I thought, "neat, he's really taken my musical suggestion to heart." Then, I thought, "Oh no, he's really take my musical suggestion to heart!" The second feeling was reinforced when he pulled up his T-shirt and showed me the Dream Theater symbol tatooed on his upper back. "And it was all thanks to you!"

At 2:00 AM I finally pulled away and went home to sleep. I fell asleep quickly, but all I could dream about was a flower that grew taller than its gardener and became a weed.

And for some odd reason, I felt like listening to Dream Theater.

idealistic vandalism

2009-04-30T22:28:00.000-06:00

Fish

2009-04-27T10:49:00.003-06:00

you have been flayed
you have been flavored

and you have been found delicious

summertime foci

2009-04-26T00:00:00.003-06:00

We are all familiar with New Year's resolutions, but now that Spring is here and classes are over, how about some summertime goals? Another semester at the university has taught me how precious time is, so I think it's a good idea to capitalize on the "break." I say it with quotations because I'll be working full-time until mid-June, and then I'll be abroad, studying.

So without further ado, here is my list of springsummer goals. (They are subject to modification.)

Learn how to bake bread.

I love homemade bread and have wanted to learn how to make it for a long time, but fear of the unknown and laziness have stifled my learning. The time is now, and the place is Provo. Prepare for delicious homemade goodness, preceded by not-so-delicious disasters.
Read a book a week.

Huzzah! No more assigned reading! What better way to celebrate not having to read by reading of my own volition?
Cycle more, drive less.

I recently purchased a bicycle for this very purpose. And I love being outside. And I love to do healthy things. It seems like a good combination.
Watch good movies.

Many people have suggested that I see certain films, and I want to do that. Quite simple, really.
Go to Brazil.

June 18th!

Most of these items aren't entirely new endeavors. In fact, I should probably write "foci" instead of "goals." The latter word has such a negative, modern connotation in my mind too. Eww.

To all of my friends and acquaintances and kids that I met without learning their name, I write "Have A Great Summer." I hope I didn't just spoil it with a horrible cliche. Sorry. Call me, we shud hang out, man.

Winterspring

2009-04-16T22:30:00.008-06:00

I knew that there would be snow when I woke up this morning, but I still marveled at the volume of wet, heavy slush that had glazed everything in the city. At first I saw it as an annoyance - I was late for a study group and was not particularly grateful for the opportunity of scraping four to five inches of sludge off my car. It slid off easily and splattered on the asphalt like a clumsy child's ice cream cone.

My negative emotions quickly dissipated when the fog cleared from my windshield and I saw how beautiful the morning was. Unlike a typical, dismal winter morning, there was green and purple under the snow and yellow above it from the bright and naked sun. I considered skipping my study group completely in favor of a morning photo shoot before the scene disappeared for another year, but I ultimately followed that innate wisdom who called me back to reality.

I left the study group a little early and practically ran to my car to grab my camera. The snow was melting quickly and increased my sense of urgency with each drop. I had already missed some opportunities and I saw that time was against me. I felt it, actually. More than once falling masses of white sludge hit me square in the face. And not just me!

Once I had my camera I was drawn to the stone path that runs along the southwest hillside through the most wooded area of campus. The path is seldom used, and today it was completely deserted. Not 10 seconds after entering it, however, I realized why no one would want to be there at that moment. The canopy formed by the interlocking branches bowed under the weight of the heavy snow and sweat and shed huge globs of slush in random places. Before long I was exceptionally wet and had taken some exceptional pictures.

I can only hope that a future female counterpart enjoys such absurd and beautiful scenes as much as I do.

Everything was beautiful and fine and dandy while I was taking pictures. Then I went back to my car. I reached in my pocket and - * gasp! *- no keys! At some point during my wandering in the vacuum of winterspring photography, I dropped my keys in the real world. Crud.

I ran back to the stone path, although this time it was an unfriendly gauntlet; taunting, expectorating globs of cold, unwelcome slush. I dashed through it looking neither right nor left nor up. My eyes were focused on the wet ground below; I just wanted my keys.

I didn't find them until much later, by which time much of the snow had melted. Only after the temporary fantasy world was all but gone, I found my keys to the real world which I had so innocently and carelessly abandoned. I picked them up graciously and drove home. Would I miss the snow? Yes. Would I welcome spring? Yes. And for one day, I got a bit of both. It was a good day.

Spring Snow

2009-04-16T19:06:00.003-06:00

I had such a wonderful morning.

I'll write more about it later.

The Thrifty Mr. Disney

2009-04-11T01:39:00.006-06:00

Do you love Disney movies? Do you ever get a sense of Deja Vu while watching them? Well you should. See for yourself.

Walt: "Well folks, looks like we've got a bit of a problem here. We need to make another film, but I spent all of our budget on the electric parade. Unfortunately, we can't afford to make any new animations."

Animator: "No sweat, Walt! I'll just dig up the old Snow White and Jungle Book animations from the vault and change the characters. And, if it works O.K., we can do it a few more times!"

Walt: "Genius! I'm sure glad I hired brains like you to help me manipulate the masses to spend vacations standing in long lines and buy overpriced merchandise while believing that they're at the 'happiest place on earth!'"

Animator: "Oh.. so that's your plan?"

Walt: "Well duh."

Animator: ... :(

psychoanalysis

2009-04-04T16:22:00.003-06:00

MY COMPUTER IS DEAD.

I donated blood.

I'm reading frantically.

I will do something unknown as of yet.

These are totally unrelated.

... or are they?

o_O <- this is how I feel

O_O <- this is me after studying.

-_- <- this is me while studying.

But I have had a tiptop time with family and friends.

That is a good thing. Yes. No need to be over dramatic. You are in good condition. Now, go and finish the fight, little bugger. That will be $100 dollars. Don't forget your shoes.

A Bisection of a Year

2009-03-27T00:22:00.004-06:00

Yesterday, 26 March 2009, was a special day for me as it marked six months since I returned home from Massachusetts. What have I done during this time? Let's take a quick look.

Work
For a few days I worked for a man in my neighborhood installing sprinkler systems. The labor was difficult, but the pay was good and it gave me something to do before I found a more permanent solution. I continued searching for work - unsuccessfully. Then one day, my neighbor called me with a job offer at the church office building. I jumped at the offer, and until the end of the year I worked in the church history department. I made many good friends there and learned a lot about church history and archives and conservation. I had some great work luncheons there too.

At the beginning of January my job in Salt Lake ended, but the friendships I made there helped me get a job in Provo. I now work in the Harold B. Lee Library, repairing books with scalpels, presses, guillotines, and glue. It's quite enjoyable, and using all those tools is oddly satisfying.

Vacation
In November I went to Las Vegas with my family to see my younger sister's soccer tournament. I didn't see much there due to the demands of the tournament, but it was just nice to spend time with my mom and sister (my dad was sick in the hotel). Surprisingly, we made it through the trip without any feuds, slap battles, or tense negotiations with elevated voices. Wait, that's a lie.

Yesterday I bought my plane ticket to Brazil. I leave on 18 June for a study abroad program (not exactly vacation) and return on 16 August, a week after the program ends. I don't have solid plans yet, but I plan to visit a few places around the country and meet up with friends during that week. Maybe I should get a tan before I travel around the country, alone.

Social
I've spent time with a lot of my old friends, but most of them live lives apart from me. Fortunately, the relationships I returned to are even stronger now, and I've made a lot of new friends in new environments. I usually always have someone to talk with/play with. I've gone on... dates.
...and we'll leave it at that.

I've had a lot of fun reconnecting with friends from the various periods of my life. Provo is a good place for that. Yes, I've had many of those "Hey Elder!" moments on campus.

Education
My academic standing turned out to be much less of a problem than I orginally thought. My unpleasant freshman past is no more than a memory, and my sophomore present is looking good. I still haven't settled on a major, however. I'm considering sociology and possibly an mls degree; I've been researching the fields and exploring carreer options. Blah Blah Blah.

I learned about Newton's laws and the periodic table this semester, as well as pre-modernism, modernism, post-modernism, the quickstep, and the waltz. I learned quite a bit about Jesus too.

***

These six months have not been without challenges, but all in all they have been happy and productive. Looking back, it's hard to believe that so much has happened in so short a time! Assuming that I continue at this rate until the end of my days, my life should be pretty awesome. I think I'll stick with it for a while.

And I want to give a special thanks to anyone and everyone who has helped me along during these last six months. Without your help and support and friendship, I would not be in so favorable a position. I would probably be really weird too, most likely working at a grocery store and spending all of my free time playing Dance Dance Revolution. Ha! Like I would ever do that!

Splitting the Pie: observing a cultural artifact

2009-03-20T23:44:00.003-06:00

As I have begun thinking more about gender issues, I have seen some interesting things. I wish to write about a pie that I saw today.

My Physical Science professor brought a homemade pumpkin-pecan pie to class today in response to an anonymous student comment, who in a note complained about always being hungry in class. The pie was cut into 12 equal slices and offered to students who answered questions correctly. Out of the seven pieces given away during the lecture, only one went to a female. At the end of the lecture, five pieces remained. The professor said that anyone who wanted a piece could come and get one. Within seconds, all of the pieces were in the hands of four eager males.

But weren't there five pieces left? Yes, one man was carrying two pieces. It's not what you think, however. When this man reached the table where the pie sat, he turned to his sister and asked, "do you want a piece?" She nodded, and he took a piece for her.

Now, how does this relate to gender issues? I think it's a good example of what is happening in many parts of our society today. In many issues, men and women have equal opportunities, at least in theory. Like my story, the pie is cut evenly is offered to each person. Why then does the pie end up in so few female hands? Do women not like the pie as much as men? Are they not as hungry? Perhaps, but I think the answer is more subtle.

When a suppressed party gains freedom, does it automatically become a 'normal' functioning member of society? Are there no traditions, ideas, or behaviors that carry on? Perhaps for some this is the case, but for the majority, change is slow. In other words, women, who were seen as inferior for so many centuries, may still be hesitant to take advantage of many of the freedoms and possibilities granted to them because of the culture from which they came.

Consider females in the classroom. While there is a small number that participates in class lectures, the majority remains silent. In my story, only one girl received a piece of pie by participation. (And I should point out that there is no shortage of women in the class.) When the five remaining pieces were offered to everyone, only men took them. I know that running to get free food is looked down upon by many people, both male and female, but could it be that females also are reluctant to compete with males for a piece of the pie? Was it lack of interest, or lack of confidence that kept them from claiming a piece of the pie?

I don't think we can point the blame to any one party, but I do believe that both can improve the situation. Like the male who offered his sister a piece of pie, men should be more understanding and mindful of their female counterparts. They should encourage women to stand up and speak out and claim a piece of the pie. To overcome cultural artifacts, they must do more than cut the pie evenly and offer it to all. They must prove to the women that they really do care about equal opportunity and reassure them that it exists.

Women, on the other hand, need not be afraid to claim a piece of pie. If there is something you want to do, do it! If there is something you want to say, say it! If there is something you want to be, be it! There have been many courageous women that have reached out and taken their own piece of the pie. Women can follow their examples and make an increased effort to get what they want.

Now, before someone misinterprets my point, let me clarify. I am not suggesting that women should compete against men. I am saying that just as men compete for a piece of the pie, so should women, with the men. We are obviously not there yet, but if men acted with more understanding and thoughtfulness and women acted with more courage, we would be well on our way. Doing so would break down the cultural artifacts that continue to suppress women in our "equal opportunity" society.

One Fine Day... to eat George Clooney

2009-03-18T23:53:00.003-06:00

Introducing: Clofu!

Yes, friends. Edward Cullen's fantasy is now available to you. You can eat the heartthrob of your life, and it's totally O.K!

Now, I don't like to poke fun at people's morals, but honestly...

"Newkirk, a big fan of Clooney, told us yesterday that the towel was offered by a PETA supporter with the idea of auctioning it off, but she immediately thought of using his perspiration for bean curd." (emphasis added)

Okay, yes, that's great that you have George Clooney's towel, but what kind of person sees, "sweaty towel" and thinks, "bean curd!"? Sounds like someone's starving, or has been reading way too much Stephanie Meyers.

And poor little George... Peta certainly wasn't very ethical towards that particular mammal.

I wonder how much clofu sells for, anyway.

In other news...

2009-03-16T00:00:00.007-06:00

I found my autographed poster of D2 The Mighty Ducks, the movie that sparked my fascination with bubble gum and Iceland. It will have a place on my wall.

Women!

2009-03-15T23:05:00.003-06:00

I attended a very enlightening career exploration class last week that I've been wanting to write about ever since. It's not one of my typical topics, but I feel that it deserves some focus.

At the beginning of the class the students were divided by gender. Men sat on the left, women sat on the right. Our professor sat on a desk at the front of the classroom and faced the women. He initiated a discussion about gender roles and forbid the men to participate.

I took two things away from that discussion. First, feeling that your voice isn't wanted is an awful feeling. It has been shown that the large majority of female college students keep their mouths closed during classroom discussions. There are different reasons for this, but in class it was suggested that perhaps the student feels like her comments are undervalued, or perhaps the professor subconsciously prefers to call on males. I found this hard to believe, so I asked several women from my class as well as outside my class how they felt about the issue. Although a few said that they felt comfortable making comments in class, the majority said that they did indeed feel some degree of anxiety.

The second realization came to me by listening carefully to the discussion at the other side of the classroom. Before coming to class, each of us read an article written by a professor of then-Ricks college. In the article, she says that many young women, influenced by mormon subculture, plan their futures according to an as yet unrealized life with some husband. In other words, they do not plan for careers, but married life. But what about the large number of unmarried/divorced/widowed women? What are they to do when they must join the workforce to support themselves? What about the women are married, but still have to help support a family, along with their husbands? The author suggests that women prepare for careers, and by doing so, they will be better prepared for life ahead. If a man indeed comes along, plans can change accordingly. If a man doesn't come along or is lost to some tragedy, then she will still be capable of supporting herself.

My purpose here is not to argue one point or another. That was the purpose of the in-class discussion. What I want to point out here is that for the first time, I was able to see the real issue that women and mothers struggle with their whole lives. Women seek education and prepare for a career, and yet keep in mind the possibility that they might never reach their professional goals because of motherhood. Those mothers are satisfied with their choice, but every now and then, perhaps they wish to have been able to do more. I gained a lot of respect for young women preparing for the future, as well as single women and mothers who had to make difficult and decisions.

Even though I grew up with four sisters and a mother, I am starting to understand that there is a whole lot more to womanhood than I ever imagined, hidden in the supressed voices of its own.

As a man, I say that such understanding is humbling.

"Nnnnggghrhnnnhhghrhgh..."

2009-03-04T23:05:00.008-07:00

We all know that falling asleep during lecture is bound to happen from time to time. How many times a day do we see Susan gazing into the eternities of the blackboard, her eyes unfocused and her jaw slightly dropped? How about Bobby, whose sloppy notes are used to soak up the pool of drool expanding from the corner of his mouth? How many times have we been Bobby or Susan? The picture below is a scan from my Portuguese workbook. I attend that class at 8:00 AM, and occasionally I behave like the sleepy Susan (thankfully, I usually don't share Bobby's symptoms). Let's take a closer look. You may need to click on the image to see the full resolution.

1. I fill in the first blank, and then a sudden heaviness falls upon me and disturbs my equilibrium. I fill in the second blank, though not without significant effort. I circle the vowels several times, just to be certain that I wrote the word correctly.

2. Realizing that I am losing consciousness, I snap awake and answer the question with a sudden burst of energy. All is not right, however. My handwriting fades as I progress through the Sentence. The sentence, translated as, "the children didn't know that the adults were tired," beautifully foreshadows of the next stage,

3. complete unconsciousness.

4. ...

5. Caught in transit between Neverland and BYU (accessible via pixie dust), I attempt to copy the answers as they float by me. The writing is difficult. I don't want to write. I just want to fly. Fly and think happy thoughts.

"When I was young I always went to bed at 8:00 O'clock."

6. My last happy thought fades and I touch down at BYU. Still not quite fully conscious, however, I'm hit with a bout of dyslexia and write not Portuguese, but Greek.

"Where did you get such beautiful pants?"

An Introduction to Chemistry

2009-03-01T23:09:00.004-07:00

In nearly every science class I have taken the professor has reproduced the exploding balloon experiment, much to my satisfaction. This time, I snapped a couple photos.

Notice the burn marks on his shirt. Where did they come from?

:)

Not Another Melodrama.

2009-02-25T22:53:00.005-07:00

I was feeling mellow tonight and was tempted to write a long, melodramatic reverie, but I decided to read from my most silly creation instead. It's one of those lengthy questionnaires that your friends send you during the summer instead of calling or writing about what's new in their lives. I received this one on "21:00, April 24, 2005" and finished "14 July 2006 2:52 AM." Here are some excerts of my 15-month project.

8. Favorite Movie:
CITIZEN KANE!
Considered by many to be the best film ever made, this is the story of Charles Foster Kane. The film opens with a long shot of Xanadu - the private estate of one of the world's richest men. In the middle of the estate is a castle. We see, inside the castle, a dying man examining a winter scene within a crystal ball. As he drops it, it smashes, and one word is heard - "Rosebud..." What follows are pieces of newsreel-like footage detailing how Kane amassed his fortune, and turning around full circle at the end.

Actually, I've never seen it before, but wow, it has, "kane" in the title, and KANES ARE SO COOL.
CLICK HERE TO SEE AN AWESOME KANE

***Please don't click this old link. Apparently, it has spyware now.

19. What is your point of view on LIFE:
Man I hate this game. I always end up being sterile or having too many kids to fit in the car, and I have to squeeze them in but then I lose some while traveling. And one time while playing in the park, some inconsiderate child threw a watermelon at me. It broke and made a big mess. BUT THE TAXES! DON'T GET ME STARTED ON THE TAXES. And sometimes I eat donuts while playing.

24. Laughed So Hard You Peed Your Pants:
No, but I've peed so hard that I laughed.

****Girls Fill Out About Guys****

These sections are really stupid, so I'm going to simplify it.

~~31. Tall or Short:32. Nice Car or has Money:33. Six-pack or Muscular arms:34. Body or Personality:35. Ear Pierced or not:36. Sporty or Outdoorsy:37. Good Guy or Bad Guy:38. Long hair or short:~~ ARE YOU A SHALLOW GIRL? No.

****Guys fill Out About Girls****
40. Tall or Short:41. Long Hair or Short:42. Dark or Light Eyes:43. Light / Dark Hair:44. Ears Pierced or Not:45. Curly or Straight Hair:46. Good Girl / Bad Girl:47. Hair down or up:48. Sporty or Classy: ARE YOU A SHALLOW GUY? No.

*******Which One Is Better****

50. Coke or Pepsi: **NEWSFLASH** COKE AND PEPSI ARE THE SAME THING, AND THE COMPANY CEO IS ACTUALLY GEORGE BUSH, WHICH IS WHY COKE/PEPSI LOOK AND TASTE LIKE OIL. NOT LIKE APPLE JACKS, WHICH IS FALSE ADVERTISING.

ahahahah more fiction again. I am on a roll.

51. kFC or McDonald: I will answer this when I figure out who kFC and McDonald are.

52. Cats or Dogs: I saw a movie once called Milo and Otis. It was a heartwarming story about a cat and a dog that wandered through the wilderness together in order to find their way home. In the end, Otis (the cat) died, and milo ate him. The cat was very nutritious, so Milo made it home alright and became the fave family pet. So yea, dogs.

******Favorite******

65. Place to hang out: Nicklecade, where all the ladies go.

66. What Do You Want To Be: more ambiguous than these questions.

69. Favorite Days Of The Week: FUNDAY! Quailman made it. Really, it was on Doug, but my boss still gets mad at me and tells me I am missing shifts. I tell her that there are eight days in the week, but I guess she is slow and hasn't caught on.

72. Does it matter to you what people think about you? Only if they have a gun or a pair of tongs.

73. Who Is Most likely not to send this back: Me, because I don't usually reply to my own mail.

That's it folks. Congratulations, you have now seen into my 2005-2006 personality. I hope you enjoyed the view.

Wait, Wait... Don't Mind Me

2009-02-18T00:41:00.005-07:00

I walked around campus today while listening to "Wait, Wait... Don't Tell Me" on my mp3 player. As enjoyable as it was, I will probably not do it again. Wherever I went, people looked at me, puzzled by my dumb grin and suppressed laughter.

The episode included interviews with comedians as well as jokes about Sesame Street. Sesame Street! How was I to stay composed?

2009-02-13T00:45:00.002-07:00

That is all.

Charles Darwin re-united me with old friends.

2009-02-12T23:47:00.003-07:00

I've always been fascinated by the lives of great scientists and thinkers. Today was Charles Darwin's 200th birthday, and BYU had a special lecture in his memory. The lecture was enlightening, but most memorable for me was waiting in line to get a piece of birthday cake after the lecture.

In the line I met a girl that I had gone to high school with and had not seen for several years. I was also standing next to a friend that I lived with in Helaman Halls during my freshman year. Those two are both biology majors and began to chat. Soon after this meeting I found someone that served in my same mission and who happens to be in my ballroom dance class. Just then, two more friends from high school arrived on the scene and joined our conversation. Those two began talking with my mission friend and discovered that they had a mutual friend from Massachusetts that served a mission in Guatemala, where one of them served. As my mission friend left he signaled to my friend from freshman year, indicating that they also knew each other.

We all have many friends and acquaintances, and running into them unexpectedly is not uncommon. The fusion of social circles, however, is a peculiar experience. I often forget that the mental compartmentalization of persons is no more than the brain's attempt of organizing data and does not necessarily represent the possibility or impossibility of certain social interactions.

I traveled through five years of history in a matter of minutes as I conversed with these friends from the different periods of my life. I looked at each of them individually, then collectively, and thought, "These people represent my life." Not entirely, but they make up a significant portion. Neat!

I imagine that funerals must be very similar, except you aren't available to make introductions. Unfortunately, forcing different social circles together without a common, living link is just awkward. Heck, it's usually awkward even with an introduction! Maybe I can hold my funeral before I pass on to make the occasion enjoyable for all. It would be wholesome fun, and everyone would be invited. Then, when I really die, everyone will already be friends so they can focus on me instead of feeling awkward around each other.

That's probably still a long ways off, though, so in the meantime I'll keep making friends and preparing for my living funeral preparation party. If you're reading this, you're invited.

My Happy, Brazilian Surprise

2009-02-08T00:42:00.002-07:00

Remember how I said that I didn't think I was eligible to apply for the study abroad, but I would speak with someone just in case? Well, I spoke with someone, and it worked. I'm going to Brazil on June 22.

While I'm there I'll take two classes and visit many historic sites around the country. Our group will be centralized in São Paulo, but we will go as far as Rio de Janeiro and Bela Horizonte. I've been told that we will also see the Iguaçu falls, as pictured here.

I expect to see rainbows just like this. I bet they're permenant.

I know I sound nonchalant about this, but I couldn't be more excited. When I found out that I was accepted I could hardly contain myself. I wanted to dance around campus and shout glad tidings to every creature. I probably would have, had I not had to work. I still shared a brief vocal outburst with a friend, but I mostly kept it in. I was floating the rest of the evening.

Thoughts of Steve Carell from Get Smart flashed through my mind as I sought a way to express my contentment.

Eyeballin'

2009-02-05T18:40:00.003-07:00

I'm going to tell you about the risotto that I made tonight. It changed my life. After taking the first bite, I threw back my head and shouted for joy. It was euphoria.

I looked in the fridge, hoping that the dishes from the Food Network would be inside. Instead, I saw a container of cooked rice and a container of sauce. It wasn't the lamb burger wrapped in prosciutto that I was wishing for, but it was a start.

The sauce was made with a jar of pasta sauce and a can of creme de leite (table cream). I first poked a hole in the can of cream and drained the liquid, leaving a nice, thick cream. I then added the cream to the pasta sauce, heating on the stove.

So, here is what I did... Are you excited? Isn't food exciting?!

I sliced and cooked an Italian sausage in a frying pan, and then I added the rice and sauce. I added some oregano, and when it was finished, I sprinkled it with an Italian blend of shredded cheese. Simple! And yet, it was one of the most delectable dishes I have ever designed. Try it today!

What's in a name, anyway?

2009-02-01T21:22:00.010-07:00

I've had many nicknames over the years, but few of them have stuck. Here are the ones that I can remember.

Michael, Michael Motorcycle - Some poetry-loving kids called me this in elementary school. I never rode a motorcycle, but it sure sounds cool.

Michelle - Derogatory. Used by mortal enemies. Annoying enemies. Annoying, stupid, detestable enemies. No offense to girls named Michelle. It's a nice female name.

Woody - A classic. A few of my friends in Massachusetts said that I look like him too. I'm not sure how I feel about that.

Jalepeño - "He's small and red and packs a punch!" I was shorter then.

Cuz - A friend of mine calls me this because we found out that our grandmothers were second cousins. True story!

Enemy - A different friend had a shirt that said, "I am not the enemy." I insisted that he was, and from that moment we were. Whenever we saw each other, we shouted, "ENEMY!" and grimaced, while shaking a fist in the air.

Wizowski - My roommates call me this today to avoid confusion with another Mike.

Woodpile - My 8th grade Spanish teacher thought this was funny. I never understood.

Michael Jackson Tiger Woods - The best of both worlds. A Brazilian man came up with this one and was absolutely tickled.

Elder Wood Face - That same Brazilian man came up with this one too. In Portuguese, a common phrase is "cara de pau." It translates to "face of wood" and is used to describe someone with no shame. Cheeky. He translated it to English with the utmost pride.

Krunchy - Upon joining the local DDR community, my best friend chose the alias "Krispy." At that point we wanted to do everything in pairs, so I chose to be "Krunchy." Not my best idea.

Injan Turtle - My old xbox live gamertag. No one picked up the joke.

Woodrow - My MTC professor and fellow missionaries called me this. He was thinking "Wilford Woodruff" but "Woodrow Wilson" came out instead. At any rate, it stuck.

Madeira - Wood, in Portuguese. All the Brazilians in my mission called me this. I like it.

Cheeks - Undoubtedly the most embarrassing. The story involves a copy machine.

and of course...

Carrot Head / Carrot Top

Thinking Green.

2009-01-30T19:58:00.003-07:00

I enjoy using air dryers because they make me feel good about myself. The other day I was in the bathroom thinking, "I'm a good person. I'm saving trees by using the air dryer." I smiled and savored the self-righteous moment. Just then, a man exited a bathroom stall and walked out the door behind me.

"Oh."

He saved paper, electricity, and water.

One More Reason to Do Good in School

2009-01-23T18:25:00.002-07:00

My freshman year was an important learning experience for me, but it wasn't without a considerable price. Two-and-a-half years later, I'm still paying for the decisions I made as a lazy 18-year-old.

I did not take classes seriously during my second semester at BYU (in part because I was discovering how much I disliked computer science) and earned the stamp of "ACADEMIC WARNING." I felt awful, but I figured that I would come back after my mission, study, and return to "good" standing. No big deal, right?

Today a woman came to my Portuguese class and announced that the study abroad program was seeking to fill two openings for classes in Sao Paulo, Brazil. The program would be at the end of this summer and would last approximately six weeks. I requested more information and began the application process when I got home from work.

The more I learned about the program the more excited I became. I've wanted to go to Brazil ever since I began communicating with Brazilians, but before now I hadn't done any more than dream about it. The prospect of studying abroad changed things. It seemed reasonable and within my reach. Could I really make it there by the end of the year, and further my education at the same time? It sounded like a dream come true.

These thoughts were going through my head as I began filling out the application. Then, I read the following words and my heart sank:

"International Study Programs will not accept applicants who are not in good academic or Honor Code standing at Brigham Young University."

Will not accept. Good academic standing. Brigham Young University. The words ripped at me like claws tearing at a healing wound. I understand that the application process is what it claims to be and chances are that I wouldn't be accepted anyway because of my past grades, but to be denied the privilege of being considered was depressing. Maybe I can work something out. I don't know.

In the meantime, I have a GPA to raise. This certainly gives me more motivation to study more this semester.

Life

2009-01-20T01:29:00.003-07:00

Kylie, my five-year-old niece, screamed with delight as we slid down the cabin driveway on a broken, gray sled. When the sled came to a stop Kylie jumped off my lap and with the most sincere enthusiasm, yelled, "Let's do that again!"

I picked up the sled and with slightly less energy, followed her up the hill. She walked proudly with her chin pointed to the sky. Her eyes were not aimless, but focused, as in deep thought. She stopped and turned towards me, and said with a smile, "I'm living the life."

:)

Yes, Kylie. You are.

Thinking of things in Lime Canyon.

2009-01-20T00:38:00.003-07:00

It's 12:40 AM and it's been a long weekend, but Patrick says I need to update my blog. So here I am.

I commemorated Martin Luther King (Jr.) day by going snowmobiling in the mountains, where there was an impressive lack of colour. There were a few brown (or were they red?) pines, and a lot of gray scrub oaks, but the majority was white. A bright, endless, sea of white. It spread in every direction, washing out all the other colors, or perhaps absorbing them.

The sun shone brightly and we felt its heat as we rode through the canyon. The snow felt it too and began to melt under its influence. Here and there, little patches of snow fell off of trees, exposing the hidden branches. Blades of grass broke through the layers of ice and reached up toward the sunlight. Senses said that spring was coming, but reason told me that senses was lying. He told me that soon it would snow again, and all this would be forgotten. "Colours and Snow," he said, "cannot exist at the same time."

"Why not?" I asked.

"There are laws of nature that must be obeyed," said reason. "We follow seasons, and seasons doesn't like to mix things."

"Well it sounds like seasons is just lazy," I said.

"Maybe so," replied reason, "but seasons has power. For now, you ain't got nothin' but a dream."

Time passed. Days, months, seasons. Then something happened. Seasons changed. Something, someone, disciplined seasons and seasons began acting like the people wanted seasons to act. Something, someone, some people, somewhere, changed the very laws of nature. Seasons works harder now, but now, all year long, there is a beautiful balance of snow and colour.

"Well, reason, what do you say to that?"

Reason paused, then sighed. He looked up at me, shrugged his shoulders, and said, "Sometimes the dreamers get lucky!"

Not-so-subliminal messaging

2009-01-14T22:18:00.005-07:00

So I walked in Walgreen's tonight and playing on the radio was "I Wanna Be Sedated."

Mike vs. The Computer

2009-01-10T18:35:00.005-07:00

It's Friday night and Mike just got home after an enjoyable night out. He turns on the computer and opens the web browser.

Mike: "I just want to check my e-mail before going to bed."

The browser loads and Mike begins to navigate.

suddenly...

computer: "*click!* zmmm POWER OFF."

Mike: ...?!

Mike tries to turn the computer on, but the screen remains blank. After a few failed attempts, he gives up and goes to bed.

The Next Day

Mike: "Ah.. it sure is great to sleep for nine hours! Computer, are you ready for the day?"

computer: "No."

Mike: "Aw, come on. Please? I need to write a paper."

computer: "Sorry, I don't feel like doing anything today."

Mike: "Neither do I, but we're in college now and so we have to be responsible."

computer: "Hahaha."

Mike, in an effort to be responsible, drives to his parents' home to solicit the help of his father. His father touches a few things and presses the power button. The computer starts up and runs normally. Could it be running properly?

No.

After running for a few minutes, the computer dies without warning. Fortunately, this time it is more willing to start up. Perhaps it is intimidated by the presence of Mike's father.

Father: "You have an old anti-virus program. Let's try installing this new one."

Mike watches the screen with great anticipation as the installation begins. Everything is running smoothly until...

computer: "click."

the computer dies again.

Mike, his father and the computer: "That's not good."

The computer now refuses to load the operating system normally. Mike starts the computer in safe mode.

computer: "You know, I'm pretty sick and things are just getting worse. Maybe you should just let me die."

Mike: "Shouldn't you be fighting for your life?"

computer: "Perhaps, but what happens after I die?"

Mike: "You'll be replaced by a more cooperative machine."

computer: "American-made?"

Mike: "Most likely."

*pause*

computer: "Then I'm fine with dying."

Mike(angrily): "Why? Because you know I'm going to replace you?"

computer: "Well, Someone's got to save the economy!"

Transition of setting, not lifestyle.

2009-01-08T23:11:00.004-07:00

I thought about my life today as a student and compared it to my life as a missionary, and I decided that life hasn't changed much, which pleases me. While the setting and priorities have changed, many things haven't. A routine is still followed, study is still important, service opportunities are still prevalent, and the greatest joy still comes from helping others be happy.

Likewise, failure to do these things results in the same feelings of incompleteness and loneliness experienced by a missionary who has failed to reach his potential. The mission is, in a very real sense, training for life. It is not a detached experience but a pertinent learning process preparatory to the plunge into adulthood. I reflect daily on how wonderful the last two and a half years have been, and how they have helped prepare me for the present.

Let's continue, full speed ahead!

Be kind, but don't be too kind.

2009-01-06T21:14:00.007-07:00

On a scale of 1-10, I'd say life is pretty darn good! Classes have begun, new friends are being made and old friends have been remembered, and my snow tires are performing like the very persistent gappers of Frip (which I am reading for sociology 111). Well, my tires don't attach themselves to goats, but they stick to the ground real nicely.

I was feeling so good today, in fact, that I forgot that I was in the dark and dreary world and had a somewhat-embarassing moment. I was talking with a girl from my ballroom dance outside after class had ended. It was snowing softly and she said that she had to walk home.

"Oh," I said, "Would you like a ride?"

A little surprised, she stammered, "but it's the opposite of where you need to go!"

"It's not a problem," I replied, not catching the hint.

"Well," she said, "It's pretty outside. I'll just walk."

It was immediately after I said "okay" that I understood what had just happened.
"Aw crud." Maybe I'm still more of a missionary than I thought.

I don't think I'll be dancing with her next week. Ha.

The Test of Time.

2009-01-04T23:33:00.003-07:00

After a perfect weekend, it's time to start classes. I hope I can prove that I've changed since I was last here. Keep me in your prayers. And if you don't pray, you can think of me during a tribal dance.

More Gems from the Archive

2009-01-01T22:51:00.007-07:00

Happy New Year! Much has happened in the last week, but for now I want to share some extraordinary papers that I found while packing my things today. All grammar and spelling mistakes have been included.

Vocab 9

A common grade-school English exercise is to write summaries or short stories using a list of vocabulary words. It's good, in theory, but forcing so many unrelated words into a single page often produces ridiculous results. Vocab 9 is a prime example.

Romeo and Juliet has some difficult lines, but can be summarized. For example, Romeo tells the nurse to stay and get the tackled stair. What he's saying is meet at a rendezvous point and get a ladder. Poor nurse at this time was teased. The men mustered around her. Juliet thought that the nurse could come at supersonic speeds. Boy was she wrong. When the Nurse returned, she gave a plausible excuse. Juliet grew impatient, because the Nurse wouldn't give her a rejoindery. Whenever the Nurse started to talk Juliet would intervene. This Nurse was old, It seemed like she was unprecedented. After Juliet entreated the nurse, The nurse finally explained. Later In the play, Nurse tries to explain again. Juliet is bemused. When Juliet finds out Tybat's dead, she is irresolute about the situation

Little: The Smart and Dumb Monsters

Written 20 October 1994

Once there were two monsters. One was dumb and his name was Ed. The other was smart and his name was Ned. They always argued who was smarter. Ed thought he was the smartest because he could count to one. Ned knew he was smarter because he could count to a hundred. Even though they argued they were friends.

Scaly Potter

Doodles like this were far too common.

Ghost Writing: Halloween

It's disturbing for me to see that this story is so similar to the ending of The Castle.

One Halloween night a long time ago. Some kids went trick or treating. Their names were mike and eric. when they got home there was nothing inside the house only walls, carpet, and ceilings. They went to a neighbor, but when they went in a monster anserwd the door and said go away! They ran, ran, ran. They saw a haunted house. They went to a witches room. She said your things will be

Whiteout Christmas

2008-12-26T00:50:00.004-07:00

It sure was nice spending Christmas with my family this year. I enjoyed the Christmases spent in Massachusetts, but there's nothing like being home for the Holidays. I appreciate that more now.

Christmas Eve was uplifting and peaceful. There were only four of us, and we had the traditional Cornish Game Hen dinner and then read some scriptures about the Savior's birth. It was a good reminder of what we were celebrating before the Holiday began.

Christmas Day was simple, and chaotic with a full house. We ate lots of food, opened presents, and played with toys in good company. The most popular toy was our new Wii, which quickly found a home in our family room. To our great satisfaction, everyone played and enjoyed it, except for those on the extreme ends of the age spectrum. The little ones were content to stand in the path of wildly-swinging remotes, and the older ones didn't come down to see.

My gifts were designed to help me prepare for life away from home again. I received a slow-cooker, a food chopper, plastic containers, and a vegetable steamer. The steamer doubles as a toy, because when it's closed up it makes a convincing UFO. Fortunately I enjoy cooking. Or more accurately, I enjoy eating and I'm willing to cook the food to eat.

I also received an Amazon.com gift card, which I plan on using to buy some Brazilian cds. :D

Tomorrow we are leaving for the mountains, to spend the weekend snowmobiling at a cabin. With all of this snow, however, simply getting up there could be a real challenge. I hope everything works out.

Quem canta seus males espanta.

2008-12-21T23:42:00.003-07:00

It's always amazing to me how much of a positive impact good music can have on a person or an ambient. When I came home tonight I was very tired and was planning on going to bed early (it's obvious that that didn't happen). When I saw my family in the family room, however - stressed, down, troubled -I felt that we should sing some Christmas songs together. I asked one of my sisters to play "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day," while I sang with another sister. 45 minutes later, we had sung all of the Christmas songs in the LDS hymnbook, as well as the New Year's songs and various lesser-known hymns.

That's a lot of singing. Quite a lot for a family that almost never sings together. But the effect that it had on everyone was clear. While the issues at hand still remained, everyone had a brighter countenance and seemed genuinely happy. It was as if for a moment, we transcended above the mires of the world to a type of paradise, where our hearts were lightened and prepared to face adversity with hope and understanding.

We are not the best singers, but we did our best, and that's what counted. Surely the sincerity of the heart is not measured by the pitch of one's voice, or the ability to nail the absurdly high notes in "Joy to the World."

I think I'm ready to go watch Mr. Krueger's Christmas. Maybe even It's a Wonderful Life. And perhaps Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. Well, that last one could wait until Patriot's day or the Fourth of July.

Agar Mans

2008-12-18T21:25:00.007-07:00

When I was 14 I thought drums were "wicked awesome." In fact, I liked them so much that I included "drummer" in my e-mail address. Now, eight years later, I have the same e-mail address because I can't settle on anything else.

My father helped me come up with some ideas tonight, most of which were chosen out of a log-cabin magazine. After he saw that I wasn't going for "woodmaster" or "woodburningstove," he tried some other sources. His best idea was to use an anagram generator, into which I entered my name. Here are some of the results for "Michael Wood."

A Melodic Who
A Chowed Limo
Achoo Mildew (a description of work in conservation)
Ciao, Lewd Ohm (we're switching electric companies)
Ideal Cow Ohm (our new electric company)
Each Wild Moo (Great cheese comes from wild cows, and wild cows come from San Francisco)
Dim Whale Coo (unrelated to the intense whale coo, which is commonly heard by 12-year-old David Archuleta fans)
Ow Docile Ham ("Martha, this ham is absolutely... docile!")

And these include my middle name:

Mad Loco Wheelie
Dam Cool Wheelie
Old Coma Wheelie

Infinitely more interesting than my name, however, is that of our president-elect.

Maraca Kabob

Even our current president has a fitting anagram!

Bugger Hose

Mathematical beauty? Nonsense.

2008-12-17T18:55:00.006-07:00

1 O that I were an robot, and could have the wish of mine mechanical innards, that I might go forth and compute with the abacus of God, with a function to shake the earth, and cry proofs unto every people!

2 Yea, I would lecture unto every soul, as with the voice of Steven Hawking, algebra and the quadratic formula, that they should derive and come to a solution, that there might not be more mathematical errors upon all the face of the earth.

3 But behold, I am a man, and do sin in my wish; for I ought to be content with the things which the Lord hath allotted unto me.

Sometimes I feel like a robot. Not because I derive functions, but because life gets busy and days turn into checklists of tasks to accomplish. Sleep is not on the list.

It's good to be busy, though. My life is lining up in a way that I could not have imagined. All I have to do is hold on until January. "..almost there, stay on target.. staaay on target...."

*KABOOM!*

Just kidding. I'm the star, not the unfortunate side-character.

food for thought

2008-12-17T00:54:00.002-07:00

Today in the cafeteria I was struck with a profound realization:

"Out of the 3,000 people who work here, I am, quite possibly, the only one eating acorn squash for lunch."

It was delicious.

An attempt to make sense out of an incomplete story.

2008-12-14T22:27:00.003-07:00

This weekend I finished reading The Castle, by Franz Kafka. Unfortunately (or fortunately) the book was never finished because of Kafka's death in 1920. It literally ends in the middle of a sentence.

Did I like it? Well, that's hard to say. I don't think the book was meant to be enjoyed. Kafka was a Czech in the early 20th century who wrote about the dark themes around him. Bureaucracy and abuse of power make are the most obvious themes of the story, and reading about it for hundreds of pages can become downright frustrating!

Acquiring a disgust for the same and seeing it in a new light was a worthwhile result, but I wouldn't go so far as to say that it was enjoyable. I echo the words of another reader:

I would read it for a while, often with the mental chuckle of K.'s fight with bureaucracy. But when a story is being told by one of the village residents, it can drag. I couldn't Not read the book, but I couldn't continually read it, either. I stopped a couple times to read something else, then returned and persevered. Overall I liked the novel, but felt it was a chore to read it at times. This is not one of those books for lounging on the beach. I bet it would be most appreciated if read in a classroom setting or some other group where someone knowledgeable can help shed light when the storyline gets too confusing. Yet it's a recommended read for a wandering, realistic feeling window into the life of a government.

He specifically mentions that the story drags when told by one of the village residents. This is an understatement. Monologues with minimal punctuation are common and often go on for several chapters. During one monologue, the protagonist falls asleep while listening to the speaker ramble for two hours. I fell asleep with him.

I'm glad I read it, but it's strange. I'm not sure how I feel about it.

My contrubution to the economy. Sorry America, it's from Japan.

2008-12-13T21:49:00.005-07:00

I made an offer on this car today. It's a 1997 Acura Integra. Manual transmission, sunroof, cd player, and a cracked windshield. It will be my first automobile purchase!

This isn't a picture of the car I'm buying, but it's the same model and color. Do you like it?

Deep inside the stacks of Michael's archives...

2008-12-10T23:53:00.005-07:00

I unearthed some strange gems tonight as I continued to run through my cd collection. Instead of music, I found some data disks with home-made videos, A sonata that I wrote, ddr stepfiles, and this picture:

Your guess is as good as mine.

Moving Melodies and Ambitious Anchors

2008-12-09T20:35:00.007-07:00

Christmas music is so fun and uplifting. Last night I went to a local benefit concert featuring Marshall McDonald, Steven Sharp Nelson, my old high school's choir, and a Utah youth string orchestra. It was fun seeing "Brother McDonald," one of my former seminary teachers, on stage performing. He played very well, though he moved so swayed so much that I was surprised that he didn't fall off the edge of the bench.

The hostess of the event was a local anchorwoman, and when she began to speak I realized that news anchors voices aren't meant for large public settings without video clips. She seamlessly slipped into anchor mode as she rattled of statistics from the Utah Food Bank. "There are X# families in need right now.. Blah Blah Blah..." Oh look, there are oranges on that Christmas tree over there!

The most (and unintentionally) comedic part of the concert was listening to this anchor narrate the tear-jerking orphan story, "Christmas Oranges." Her breaking-news voice kicked in as she told about the flu epidemic raging throughout the town of the story:

"Many people, both young and old, became sick with the flu.
Many people, both young and old,

* dramatic pause *

...died."

I did have a tingly feeling at the story's resolution, however. Oh, and I loved the name of the orphanage - "Irongates."

And the music really was fantastic.

***

Now, quite different from the peaceful Christmas melodies of last night, I'm listening to my old music collection and throwing out the junky stuff. The first victim was a punk rock cd that I never listened to completely. The reason for that was soon made obvious. I threw it away with its five power chords, monotone vocals and unchanging drum pattern.

Michael made a pretty thing.

2008-12-06T14:12:00.008-07:00

I Photoshopped and framed this picture, and I'm quite pleased with the result. It will be available tonight at the Sub-4-Santa auction!

I also printed a picture of a sunflower, but I haven't found a frame for it yet.

The pictures are 5 x 7's.

Michael is tired of lame, sucky negativity

2008-12-06T01:42:00.004-07:00

Life is too toilsome and disheartening by itself, so I'm not going to contribute to its cheerless inclinations. I counterattack by annihilating these phrases:

"I hate"
"I suck at"
"___ sucks"
"I'm tired"
"I don't want to (insert verb)"
"No one can love me like Edward"
"The Dow dropped (insert amount) points today"
"That's (*insert negative word)"

*possibilities include but are not limited to lame, stupid, boring, sucky, dumb, and gay.

Negativity has so penetrated our language that simply substituting one of these words with an antonym does not invert its meaning!

"This movie sucks."
"This movie blows."

Together, however, they can make a compelling advertisement.

"My industrial vacuum sucks and blows!"

+10 points for whoever joins me in my quest for ANTS: Annihilation of all Negative ThingS. Maybe we can make hats and watch Mr. Krueger's Christmas and play with kittens. That would be so un-negative.

Positive, I mean.

2008-12-01T06:50:00.001-07:00

I also got a $35 parking ticket. Whoops.

Michael experienced the life of a soccer mom. Does that mean I can be vp?

2008-11-30T21:21:00.006-07:00

I'm back! The trip to Vegas was enjoyable, but definitely not what I had expected. I was more of a family assistant than a tourist.

Things started off rough when my father came down with a nasty cold. He was able to drive for much of the trip to Vegas, but once we reached the hotel, he stayed in the room, miserable, for the rest of the weekend. I washed my hands more than ever before during these past four days.

With my father sick in bed, my mother needed my help navigating the foreign highways of sin city. I drove to soccer games, restaurants, and even to the home of her old college roommate who she hadn't seen for 18 years. I didn't get to do the original activities I had planned, but it was nice to just get out and relax and be of help. Watching the soccer games wasn't too bad either.

After a long drive through the desert and battling through post-Thanksgiving traffic, I'm back home and ready to tackle the challenges of the next month. There's much to do before the year ends.

Michael is going back to school.

2008-11-27T01:41:00.004-07:00

It's super early and I need to sleep, but I wanted to share the news before we leave for Las Vegas. Tonight we had our Thanksgiving dinner and birthday celebration for my father, and after everyone left, I went upstairs and checked my e-mail. There was a message from BYU, informing me that I've been accepted for the 2009 winter semester.

Fantastic!

I'm happy that I got back into BYU, though I can't deny that I have mixed feelings. I've been home for two months now, and in that time I've established a comfortable life in Salt Lake. I have a job, I've made new friends - I even considered transferring to a school here if BYU didn't work out.

I suppose I'm being over-dramatic about this, it's not like Provo is very far away, but with the prospect of change always comes a sorrow for the past. I'm sure it will be the best for me, but I can't help but feel sad about leaving the life I have enjoyed so much.

I already registered for classes. I was very lucky/blessed - I was able to organize a decent schedule despite having registered so late. Now I have to find an apartment, buy a car, prepare to move, learn how to tune pianos... all in the next month.

Having a direction to take with definite goals is exciting!

Michael Just Wants to Dance.

2008-11-25T21:39:00.004-07:00

I am not a dancer. The extent of my dance background is Dance Dance Revolution, which is more violent than graceful(at least when I play). Tonight, however, I went far beyond that and learned some basic swing and salsa steps. Sorry nerds, but it was way more fun than arrow-smashing.

Being able to do those basic moves, no matter how ugly it looked, was satisfying and great fun! It was also nice to dance with a partner, instead of clutching a sweaty, metal bar.

I was still feeling the groove when I got home, so I pulled my mother away from the Thanksgiving turkey and we danced in the kitchen. No sooner did I take her hand than the groove seized her and she recalled the dance steps from a distant college memory. We danced for a few minutes and then, slightly embarrassed, she broke away by suggesting that I teach my younger sister. My sister didn't jump at the offer.

I enjoy dance and would like to learn (and see) more.

And I still love ddr.

Physics and Michael's Childhood.

2008-11-25T00:02:00.003-07:00

This evening while participating in a conversation about physics(don't think this is normal), my thoughts drifted to my childhood and my first hands-on experience with Newton's first law of motion.

One fine summer before the Fourth of July, my family and my cousins went camping near Provo before seeing a large fireworks show. Our camping site was located at the bottom of a large, sandy hill spotted with rocks and sagebrush. It beckoned us like the ice cream man, and we were at the top within 30 seconds.

All was fun and games until our parents called us down. I remember wanting to beat everyone down the hill, and unfortunately, I did. I moved one foot, the other.. faster. Faster! Oh no! No brakes!

My run turned into a roll, and I tumbled down the steep hill and landed in a well-placed sagebrush. I think someone took pity on my poor, ignorant self - I managed to avoid every rock and landed in the only sagebrush within a 20' radius.

So, remember kids, "A body continues to maintain its state of rest or of uniform motion unless acted upon by an external unbalanced force!"

Michael is getting reacquainted with childhood enemy.

2008-11-23T22:20:00.006-07:00

Last week I attended my younger sister's piano recital, and after being impressed, decided to start practicing again. I dug up the old Alfred piano methods and began playing "Goodbye, Old Paint."

It's a long road to glory. At least I have more patience now than when I was ten.

In the meantime, before my imminent rise to musical stardom, my father is going to teach me how to tune pianos. It's a skill he learned from his father, and has been a nice source of extra money. If all goes well, it will provide me with enough to stay afloat during school.

Mike is an odd size.

2008-11-23T16:03:00.004-07:00

I spent almost two hours shopping for jeans yesterday and didn't find what I wanted. Instead, I bought a bottle of cranberry juice and Thoreau's Walden. Maybe I'll find my size at a reasonable price next week, in Las Vegas.

Oh yeah, I'm going to Las Vegas to celebrate Thanksgiving! Can you think of a better place to count your blessings and spend quality time with family? The truth is that although we will spend the holiday there, the real reason for our trip is my younger sister's soccer tournament. It should be a memorable Thanksgiving. It certainly is different from what I'm used to.

2008-11-20T23:17:00.001-07:00

Patrick: no mike, no!

it's not christmas time yet!!

Michael catches the Christmas virus.

2008-11-20T22:20:00.008-07:00

I began listening to Christmas music today. I kicked it off with Sufjan Steven's Songs for Christmas, which I highly recommend. It's a nice break from the traditional holiday music you hear on a soft rock station. It even comes with an animated short, which you can see here!

Mike breaks down barriers.

2008-11-18T07:06:00.003-07:00

Some people say that Haikus are supposed to be about nature or birds, but I think that that's silly. I'll show how they relate to science.

PHYSICS

Three birds flew overhead
One fell and I measured its
acceleration.

BIOLOGY

This bird holds secrets
I'll solve them with my scalpel
Because it can't talk.

CHEMISTRY

This bird was poisoned
Inside it I found traces
of Alka-Seltzer.

Normal

Mankind is evil
It takes birds from the sky. ..but
we shall fly again.

Michael likes squares. And squirrels.

2008-11-17T21:54:00.005-07:00

My Brazilian friend is no longer at the Church Office Building, so I have to find other ways to keep busy during lunch.

Today I discovered that the wax paper by the pastries in the cafeteria comes in perfect squares. I couldn't resist the urge to grab a sheet and fold a squirrel. I was pleased with the result.