ON GROWING UP AND GETTING LOST

I'm Getting Married!

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 19:33:00 +0000

Yep, it's true. I will be marrying Chelsea Lane Campbell on January 7th, 2010.

I will probably post some wedding stuff here, but go here for all the info, including an introduction to both of us, FAQ's, and a blog.

Be sure to sign the guest book, post comments, and check back there for updates, pics, and videos.

I love you, Chelsea.

Just Because Other People Do Doesn't Mean I Can't

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Tue, 25 Aug 2009 03:28:00 +0000

So, I came to grips with this whole blogging thing when I realized that as long as I was trying to make it worth the few minutes friends and family spend here I was okay. I remembered through the comments that I am in charge of what I put on here, and that maybe I should just lighten up a little. Of course, school started today and I didn't write on this thing while I was on a break.

In the latest Twitter news, Michael Beasley was checked into rehab after taking a picture of his new back tattoo while forgetting to take the weed of the counter, and then posting suicidal thoughts on Twitter. I don't think it is a great idea for someone that high profile to have a Twitter or Facebook, because something like this is bound to happen sooner or later. It seems that fines in the big three sports have tripled since Twitter came about, and that all these athletes seem to think they are now on reality TV, but I am debating here whether Twitter actually helped Beasley in this case. Who knows what would have happened with the drugs as far as the league is concerned, but thanks to his very public thoughts on suicide he is now in a rehab clinic.

So there you go.

Just Because You Can, Doesn't Mean You Should

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Mon, 03 Aug 2009 03:21:00 +0000

So, nobody really blogs anymore, which leads to nobody commenting (no comments on this entire page), which leads again to no one blogging because nobody is reading them. I blame Twitter for all of this. Everyone is now getting their thoughts out too quickly, and there is nothing to write a more than 160 character message. I was on Twitter for like a week, but I'm sorry, I have a hard time not getting angry when someone thinks that where they are eating lunch is interesting information, or that I want to know how many hours of sleep they got, or that they aren't doing anything (but should be). At least with blogs the narcissism built up enough to hopefully create an interesting human experience when it was typed out.

I have often wondered if having a blog is a good thing for someone who likes to write. Sometimes energy that could be used for writing in my notebook is spent here instead, and maybe sometimes those thoughts and ideas should ferment before being shared. Not that it wouldn't be alright to use ideas in a story that have been blogged about before, but you would just be re-hashing old ideas, and I have noticed that when I write about something and it is read, those ideas leave my brain and no longer evolve. Maybe they should just be kept inside until the right time. After seeing the world of Twitter, I am seeing more clearly the merit of someone who doesn't say anything unless it's worth saying.

I was actually planning on this being a June and July recap, but I think I talked myself out of it.

Johnny X's May

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Tue, 02 Jun 2009 22:38:00 +0000

This is going to be lame. I only have a few minutes.

I am back in school, but don’t really feel like talking about it. I can sum it up with two words: Broken Air-Conditioning.

You know what bothers me? The phrase “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Like when you tell people something about yourself and they say, “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that.” I hate when people say this to me. I KNOW there is nothing wrong with it, that is why I am that way, or am doing whatever it is I am telling you about. When you say there is nothing wrong with it, you are implying that I need to be reassured that there is nothing wrong with it because there are plenty of people out there who think that there is something wrong with it, and really, most likely, you do think that there is something wrong with it, but are showing that you are an accepting person and don’t judge, so even though there is something wrong with it, you are still okay with it, but when you say that, you are doing the opposite, it seems to me. *Breath* Anyway, it’s annoying.

It it it.

Retro-quote: After the war, I was dateless again. That Viet Cong girl dumped me.
– Mr. Belding, Saved by the Bell

I thought this was pretty interesting. Gas Saving Prius? vs. BMW M3. Not what you drive necessarily, but how you drive.

Everybody Knew but Me

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Wed, 20 May 2009 21:22:00 +0000

Do you ever have those nights where you lay in bed and you think about one time in your life? Just one. You think about what it means, and what you can or did learn from it? Maybe you didn’t learn anything from it; it just feels like you should have?

I was lying in the room I spent a good deal of growing up in the other night, and I don’t know where it came from, but I had a flashback to a night when I was sixteen. I was in my parent’s basement with a girl I knew from work named Annie. I had never had a girlfriend up to this point and I was really hoping that was going to happen with Annie.

You know Charlie in High Fidelity? Annie was kind of like my Charlie: the kind of girl I thought I wanted to meet (which, honestly, meant to a sixteen year old me that she was hot), and “she liked me, she liked me, she liked me…at least I think she did,” and in hindsight I can see that she was awful. If I had never heard that she thought I was cute, I would have never attempted to humiliate myself, by trying to go out with her, but, as it goes, she did think I was cute, and I did hear about it.

We started hanging out. We spent most of our time with her friends who were like her and were mostly rich preppies, dumb jocks, and cheerleaders. They listened to Limp Bizkit, and Kottenmouth Kings, and drove $60,000 cars their parents bought for them. I had nothing in common with them, and I hated hanging out with them. Eventually, I got her and a couple of her friends to come hang out with my friends. That didn’t quite work, either. Just about everyone in my life could see the kind people they were except me. The one time we hung out with my friends it ended with Annie’s friend, Jessica, crying, and her other friend yelling insults at everyone, and an awkward twenty minutes of me driving them home early.

Despite everyone asking me why I was hanging out with her, I plugged on hoping it would all be okay soon. I never did kiss her, though. I wussed out every night I hung out with her, which was probably my subconscious holding me back more than it was being a wimp. On the last night we hung out I walked her to her car and we just stood there having that awkward moment before a first kiss. I chickened out again and she got in her car. I finally got the balls and asked her to get out of her car for a second, which she wouldn’t do. She said we could do it later. Embarrassed, I said, “Okay, well, I am going to go inside and hang myself now.”

She told all her friends about me trying to get her out of the car, which led to me getting made fun of all day at work. I was too embarrassed to keep trying.

Anyway, the night I was thinking about was when the two of us were laying down in my room. Something was in the air, something heavy, and it could have been romance for all I knew, but I started spouting out some feelings. They had to do with fear mostly, I mean I was sixteen, seventeen, and soon high school would be over and I was getting on in years. I was afraid of the future and that was what I was telling her, and she had no idea what I was talking about. She didn’t understand how someone could be afraid. I didn’t know how to explain fear to her, and I felt a little silly, but mostly I felt confused. How could someone that age not feel at least a little fear? I began to realize that she was not really in touch with reality. Maybe she was too sheltered, or was ignoring it, but I felt kind of sorry for her. At least I knew what fear felt like. At least I knew it was something to be felt, and was real. And I know now that that particular fear has been conquered, and I know how much I have learned while doing it. I know now that since I have moved on to much bigger and scarier fears in my life, that it is necessary, and that I wouldn’t be the person I am today if I wasn’t afraid of certain things. I know that if you are unable to feel fear then you probably aren’t able to feel a lot of the other things life is.

And life is a lot of things.

She got married about three years later. Her husband was an ex-boyfriend of hers at the time I was attempting to date her. I met him a couple of times and they are a match. I wonder how you can get married without a concept of what it is like to be afraid? Of course, now that I write that it seems like a lack of fear would make it pretty easy, and maybe that is better. But maybe it is like the back-up quarter-back syndrome where the first-string guy goes down and the back-up QB does an incredible job for the first few weeks because he doesn’t know how hard it is supposed to be…but it does eventually catch up to him.

I guess what I can get out of that night is that I am glad I am a person who feels. I am glad I have had ups and downs and know that I always will, that at times I will be afraid, but, at others, so happy I could pee. I am glad I don’t blissfully float through a naive life waiting for the human experience to catch up to me.

You Screw Up Two Little Words and Everything Changes

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Fri, 15 May 2009 17:09:00 +0000

http://www.cnn.com/2009/WORLD/meast/05/15/iraq.oldest.soldier.dies/index.html?iref=mpstoryview

"A Vietnam War veteran killed in an Iraq roadside bombing this week has become the oldest American service member to be killed in both Iraq and Afghan combat, the Pentagon has confirmed."

I mean, you'd think after he died the first time he would have gone the hell home.

Brain Dead

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Tue, 12 May 2009 18:46:00 +0000

It has been a while. I have been trying to finish up the semester by writing two papers that were kicking my butt. I turned them in on Friday and then was out of town over the weekend.

I don’t really have an April summary other than: Waiting for Godot, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, Pedro Páramo, The God of Small Things. Those were the books I was writing my papers on. If you want to read a great contemporary novel, read The God of Small Things, by Arundahti Roy. I think it is amazing. It was the last book we read in my global lit class. It was our reward for getting through the semester. I am no good at doing reviews, so, if you can, just trust me. I think Reena Jana from Salon.com said it best when she said Arundahti Roy is “butt-kicking good.” If you are into literature, read it. If you are the kind of person who doesn’t take suggestions just because they aren't your suggestions, then, if we see each other or you post a comment here, you don’t have to admit to hearing about it through me. You can lie and rub it in my face and say you were way ahead of me, and that you read it ten years ago if you want. I don’t care. Just read it.

I can’t think of anything else to say. School starts again a week from today. I think my brain really is taking this week off.

Johnny X's March 2009

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Wed, 08 Apr 2009 16:01:00 +0000

My Newest Book I Have to Wait Two Years to Read

A Devil on One Shoulder and an Angel on the Other: The Story of Shannon Hoon and Blind Melon

Favorite Email

Zach: I have a little snag in our plans for Thursday night. My calling is coaching the young men's basketball teams in my ward. It's region time and the priest team is doing very well and has a game Thursday night at 7 pm, semi finals. The games are an hour, or less. I can be at Cam's at 8. Don't let that stop you guys from going to dinner, or getting together earlier. I'll get there at 8 though. Thoughts?

Cam: My first thought is, Bummer. My second thought is, who the crap made you a basketball coach?

Zach: Jesus, Cam. Jesus.

Favorite Youtube Video: It's Just Like a Mini Mall

I often say that I work with some of the dumbest people in the country. I am not sure if people actually believe me, or if they take it as an exaggeration as I am blowing of steam, but it's true.

Exhibit A: I work for a company that does insurance inspections on homes. Some insurance companies require that the inspector take a photo of the number of the home to confirm the address, so that they know we saw the correct home.

We got a report in the other day where the inspector took a picture of the request the insurance company sent us. So, to confirm that the address was correct he took a picture of a piece of paper, and sent it in labelled "Address confirmation," which of course makes no sense at all. It doesn't confirm that he saw the right house, it just confirms that he could if he wanted to.

How can you possibly think that that is the right thing to do? That you are going to send this to the QC staff, and they will look at it be like "Yep. The number on the request he took a picture of didn't change when he printed it," and send the picture of your clipboard to the insurance company? Awesome. Quite professional.

I was going to post this picture, but I would have to black out most of it (name, address etc.), and it wouldn't be worth it.

A pet peeve of mine that has formed because of my job is the word barbecue being spelled BBQ, bar-b-que (seriously! What is that!), or barbeque.

Whenever an insured has a built-in BARBECUE we need to list that in the report, and the spelling needs to be changed 98% of the time, and it drove me nuts. This doesn't have much to do with my work now, but I could get a well-done (pardon the pun) report, but if they spelled barbecue wrong (which, like i said, was 98% of the time) I would be super upset, and was always sure to let the inspector know.

I don't know why it bothered me so much. It appears that I was the only one in the office correcting it, and that 4% of the English speaking population actually knows how to spell the stupid word. I have gotten emails back from underwriters with it spelled incorrectly, so obviously the people I was fixing it for didn't know the difference, and the pricing tool I am currently working with has it built-in as 'barbeque,' and I can't do anything about it.

Maybe I am just sensitive becuase I was going to get 100% on a spelling test in the fifth grade once, but I didn't, because I spelled barbecue with a 'q.'

Anyway, a friend recently told me to try Jim Beam sunflower seeds, which I did. Although, it gave me pause when I saw that they couldn't spell it either. It is much more offensive to me when you sell barbecue products (flavor, or grills) and don't know how to spell it. You should be able to spell your own product

Really. How did this word get a pass by everyone? How is it that it gets five different spellings when other words have one?

Piece of Lit

Then he heard the weeping. That was what woke him: a soft but penetrating weeping that because it was do delicate was able to slip through the mesh of sleep and reach the place where his fear lived. - Pedro Páramo, Jaun Rulfo

Six Hours of Driving and a Jazz Game

The Freshmaker

Being overly excited, but it's the people in the back that make this a keeper

Some Guy With Bagpipes

I had to pee so bad!

SO BORED

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 01:32:00 +0000

. . .so it is time for another play by play post.

4:29 – Decide to write this post.

4:30 – Debate with myself if I should mention things like “Took a drink of water.” Still not sure, but, either way, I just took a drink of water.

4:31 – Received this IM from Cam explaining why we couldn’t IM each other this afternoon: I begged Bill to sabotage the system. So to play a joke on me he shut down my internet, that's what was wrong

4:35 – T.O. to Buffalo? Haha, that is going to be awesome to watch.

4:37 – This was earlier, but is noteworthy. I got this in one of the reports I was working on today: The insured was there, they let out the dog, the dog wents nuts, they got upset with me, and asked me to leave. Therefore I did not do a interview.

4:56 – You know what really bothers me? Lists that give you five or ten tips on something that is difficult. The idea behind these lists are good, but they hardly ever have any tips that actually help. Take this one I have in front of me that is Five Tips for Job Hunting during a Recession. The first tip is “Stay Positive.” Really? That is your number one? Number five is “Be Persistent.” So I shouldn’t give up? EVERYONE ALREADY KNOWS THESE THINGS! It is like reading a dating tips list, and it tells you to “Be Nice.” Oh, okay. So, I should NOT headbutt them in the nose, tell them they are ugly and have an unpleasant smell, and then ask for a second date? Hmm, thank goodness they are getting the word out.

You don’t have any programs or websites or. . .SOMETHING that the lay person might not already know simply by the fact that they are alive? By the look of these shoddy lists, you need just as much help as the rest of us, but apparently writing shat that everyone already knows is recession proof.

5:06 – Calming down.

5:12 – Came home from my mission five years ago today. . .wow.

5:49 – Just asked my friend, Lacey, how Spain was, but she is in the Philippines. Whoops.

5:54 – Off to Harmons.

6:17 – Back. Some old Pennywise came on my ipod and I thought about when I went to California with my buddy Clay when I was fourteen. I could talk about this trip for a very long time, but I want to save it for later.
7:32 - Shuttin it down.

Sixty Cents for a HandiSnack? A Knock Off At That. Really?

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Wed, 04 Mar 2009 18:46:00 +0000

Johnny X's February

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Sun, 01 Mar 2009 20:14:00 +0000

“What is with the stop in the “stop, drop, and roll” bit? When I catch fire, the last thing I’m going to be doing is stopping.”

“Good point.”

“I tell you what, I am going to go ahead and skip the stop part, and just go straight to roll. Drop and roll, man. Or really, just roll. I mean, if you are going to roll, isn’t the dropping implied? You have to drop to roll, and I believe everyone can do the drop math when needing a roll. It’s a good thing we’ve never caught on fire before this.”

“It seems like I heard someone else talking about that the other day.”

“Probably."

“Did you watch Flight of the Conchords?”

“No, I don’t like it.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, it’s not like I don’t like it, I guess, or would like it, rather, but I just get so sick of listening to everybody talk about it that it makes me angry. Yes yes, you like it, everyone likes it, now shut-up about it.”

“You would like it.”

“Probably.”

“Well, I haven’t watched the new one yet, you should come over and see it. I know you’ll like it.”

“No.”

“Why do you not like stuff on the count of other people liking it?”

“It’s not that. It’s the fact that I could probably quote the entire series and I have never even seen an episode. I liked Napoleon Dynamite and Borat when we first saw them, but then all I heard for the next six months were awful impressions everywhere I went. There is a girl at my work who can’t even talk normal now because all she did was do Napoleon Dynamite impressions for a year, and now her voice is stuck, like how you weren’t supposed to make ugly faces when you were little because they would eventually just set.”

“Well, you’re missing out.”

“I’m sure I am. You know what I want to do? I want to find a good barber.”

“A barber?”

“Yeah. Go in, get a cut and a shave, and then he takes the razor to the back of the neck and gives you that powder stuff. I have only been to a barber once, and it was awesome.”

“Hey, that kid kind of looks like that Diggable Dave guy?”

“Who?”

“That guy. Right there.”

“Oh. I never met Diggable Dave.”

“You don’t remember Diggable Dave?”

“I remember him, I just never met him. That was before I got home.”

“When Rob and I first got home, we went to his house to play Ping-Pong. I was pretty confident going in, but then I noticed he had to change into his Ping-Pong shoes; I then refused to play.”

###

Favorite Onion News Ticker: MARINE BIOLOGISTS DISAPPOINTED AFTER DISCOVERY THAT THE NEW SPECIES OF 8-ARMED DOLPHINS IS JUST AN OCTUPUS

February YouTube Vid: You know when he falls apart/he listens in the dark/to the records turn/I'll never learn

Favorite Piece of Literature: She was alone and still, gazing out to sea; and when she felt his presence and the worship of his eyes her eyes turned to him in quiet sufference of his gaze, without shame or wantonness. Long, long she suffered his gaze and then quietly withdrew her eyes from his and bent towards the stream, gently stirring the water with her foot hither and thither. The first faint noise of gently moving water broke the silence, low and faint and whispering, faint as bells of sleep; hither and thither, hither and thither: and a faint flame trembled on her cheek.

—Heavenly God! cried Stephen's soul, in an outburts of profane joy.

He turned away from her suddenly and set off across the strand. His cheeks were aflame; his body was aglow; his limbs were trembling. On and on and on and on he strode, far out over the sands, singing wildly to the sea, crying to greet the advent of the life that had cried to him.
Her image had passed into his soul for ever and no word had broken the holy silence of his ecstasy. Her eyes had called him and his soul leaped at the call. To live, to err, to fall, to triumph, to recreate life out of life! A wild angel had appeared to him, the angel of mortal youth and beauty, an envoy from the fair courts of life, to throw open before him an instant of ecstasy the gates of all the ways of error and glory. On and on and on and on. - Portait of the Artist as a Young Man, James Joyce

Mostly Cloudy

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Mon, 26 Jan 2009 21:59:00 +0000

He couldn't think on cloudy days. His thoughts needed room and the clouds smothered them. They needed to at least reach the sky; he didn't know where the sky began, but he was sure it was somewhere above those clouds.

The man turned around, walked home, and thought small.

A Weird Thing Happened to Me Today

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 05:10:00 +0000

I was walking to class and went to enter the doors to the OSH building. They were glass doors and there was an older couple next to them with their backs to me.

As I went to open the doors I found they were locked, and at that moment the couple started walking away. The guy turned around, and I was hoping he was going to open the door for me with a very simple push. He stopped, we made eye contact, and then he kept on walking.

On Turning Twenty-Six

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Wed, 14 Jan 2009 18:32:00 +0000

This year was—good. The reason I pause before my good declaration is because this was a year of extremes. “Aren’t they all?” Well, no, not really, at least at this stage in my life. It is a weird time; it’s a time that you can’t really understand unless you are in it or have gone through it. “Yeah, one of those things we all go through.” Umm, not at all actually, especially in this culture, it seems like the majority of people don’t go through this.

We were frightened of being left alone for the rest of our lives. Only people of a certain disposition are frightened of being left alone for the rest of their lives at twenty-six; we were of that disposition. - Rob, High Fidelity

The mid-twenties in the Mormon culture are freaking weird. All my best friends, save one, are married and have been for quite some time. Watching each one get married sucked. I am sure I have never said that to them before, but their weddings sucked. I don’t mean that they weren’t wonderful and beautiful and that I wasn’t happy for them, but seeing a best friend get married while all you can do is stand there and watch everything change, except yourself, is a bit depressing. As I watched each one get married I knew that that would not be me for a very long time. I wasn’t ready to be married, nor did I want to be, and you would think that knowing that about yourself would be comforting. It’s not. All knowing that does for me is confirm that I have been left behind, and no matter how many times someone tries to make me feel better by saying people move at different speeds, and that timing is different for everyone, it will always just make me feel worse. It just conveys to me that I am slow, and somewhere along the line my progress has been retarded.

I’m not moping, I am just trying to explain why this time in my life is weird. Hmm. . . I was going to say that one reason it is weird is because in the rest of the country not being married at 26 would not be weird at all. I was going to say that I am in a rare circumstance where not being married by now causes all sorts of anxiety and pressure, mostly applied by other people, but I just read an article in USA Today that said the average age to be married in the U.S. is 26 for women and 27 for men. I thought it was more like 31 or something like that, so maybe it’s not as weird as I thought, but I still maintain that not being married by now in most circumstances would not cause as much of the aforementioned anxiety and pressure. Also, I would think that the average age for a female Mormon to get married is much much lower, which always brings the thought that if I go on like this for a few more years I may be looking at either insta-family or marrying a ninteen year old, and nineteen year olds bug the bejeebus out of me.

Anyway, I could go on and on about this subject, and maybe I should so all of you who got married at twenty-two get a better feel for what it is like and stop asking all of us late-bloomers what is wrong with us every time a relationship fails, or whenever we don’t want to go on a second date, but I won’t, because I need to get on with the post because I am forgetting what the point to this was supposed to be.

Oh yeah, year of extremes. Since all my friends have been married, and good times are fewer and further between, there haven’t been as many peaks and valleys in my life. I have felt more like I have been flat-lining somewhere in the middle of the Rockies and Appalachians. It hasn’t been all bad, sometimes the line was cruising along higher than others, but there were just no really great times or really bad times, and it didn’t really feel like living. This past year, however, started with a gigantic spike downward on my twenty-fifth birthday. A relationship failed that day and sped toward rock bottom at terminal velocity (remember that Charlie Sheen movie?). The reason this particular dumping was so difficult was because along with the end of the relationship came loads and loads of embarrassment. Embarrassment because of why it ended, and because so many people in my life and her life thought we were making a mistake; we assured them we weren’t and kept on going. Well, turns out we were and I proved everyone right and felt like an idiot. Of course, in hindsight what I did wasn’t really embarrassing, I was just coming to a realization, and it was actually great. Bloody wonderful, really. At the time, though, I would have none of that positive talk, or any talk really. I locked myself up in my room. I didn’t return phone calls, texts, emails; all I did was listen to ESPN radio because it was the only thing that didn’t really make me feel.

Even after I bounced my ceiling wasn’t very high at all. I just kind of vibrated between rock bottom and ceiling for a couple months. I started talking, but not about anything important. I started listening to music, but only a few certain songs by a few certain artists. Eventually, much to my chagrin at the time, I had a breakthrough. I was driving down 27th South listening to Avail when I first felt entirely okay. The song was Simple Song. It was as perfect for me at that time as it could be without actually writing it myself. I realized I was still capable of feeling good, and that kicked me out of my funk. That was a good day.

The first day of school was today (13th). While not the best way I can think of spending my birthday, it is pretty fitting. I moved around a bit the past year and a half or so, and haven’t been in school because I didn’t know exactly where I was going to be. Then I had some trouble getting going at the U, and missed another semester. This past summer, I finally got back in school, and it's good to be back. I started my third semester at the University of Utah on my twenty-sixth birthday, and it is a reminder that I am not where I was a year ago, and, in this case, that is a comforting thought.

There were a couple of funerals in the family this year, both coming much sooner than they should have, but the actual services get counted among my high points of 2008. They were both very life assuring and uplifting, and made me think about the quality of my own life and how I am responsible for it being good or bad, there is no fault to be slung around if it is bad, and I thought about the impact it had on others when it was good. I count those two days as good days.

After the funeral of Grant, my father’s cousin, I went to lunch with my family. With the exception of my sister’s baby boy (and the restaurant employees who swarmed around my nephew) it was just a meal with my immediate family, something that I don’t think has happened since I was in fifth grade. Outside of what it was, it wasn’t particularly special; we talked about football, about my brother’s new job, and my family found out I like sushi. It was lunch at a place called Crazy Jim’s, and it was special to me.

I want a family of my own someday. I do. I think 2008 really helped solidify that desire; I don’t want it right now, per se; I want to do a good job, but that is something I am moving towards. I heard about an online service the other day called Ashley Madison. It is a dating service that is supposed help married people cheat on their spouse anonymously. I guess in the seven years it has existed none of their customers have been caught, and there have even been marriages that have come as a result of it; the ass said that as if there were no irony in that statement. I hear about things like this and I think of my own family and how sacred all those relationships are to me and how every time we all get together for a birthday or a holiday I am reminded and at how full life can be, being single sometimes I can forget. I’ll never forget how dark I felt while listening to that interview, or how sad I was that so many people are eager to screw with their families while saying that they are doing it for “the sake of the marriage,” or that Darwin made them do it. I will always remember, though, how it made me so sure about what I wanted for my life and the people in it.

As I turn twenty-six, I am in a relationship with an intensely wonderful person. Spending time with her is like walking the cobblestone streets in one of those venerable classic towns feeling timeless and welcome. I really wish I could see her today.

So, until next time. I am going to start off my twenty-seventh year phones in, making my way through the rest of my beloved winter. I think I will start with Serenity, by the Bouncing Souls. After that, we’ll see.

Go Eagles.

Go Utes!

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Fri, 02 Jan 2009 17:41:00 +0000

It is when the U beats BYU 48-24 that this kind of thing doesn't bother me.

Photo taken in a grocery store in Tooele.

In Case You Were Interested 2

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Wed, 26 Nov 2008 01:58:00 +0000

I have had a lot to say lately, I just haven't had the time to say it. Going back and writing all the stuff that I previously had to say is very daunting, so you will just have to settle for new stuff.

I have been hyper-observant all day. That may not be the correct term because it is not like I have been noticing tons of things that I wouldn't notice when I wasn't being hyper-whatever-the correct-term-would-be-if-observant-isn't-the-correct-word; it's more like the things noticed have meaning, or more meaning depending on what they were.

It didn't start when I saw the girl microwaving bacon this morning. It didn't start there, but I think that is what primed me for it. I went into the break room to fill my mug up with hot water and saw one of my co-workers microwaving bacon on what I think was a single layer of paper towel. The grease was exploding and causing an obnoxious ruckus. She opened the microwave and muttered something. This something, I believe, was supposed to communicate to me that she was confused as to why everything was so loud (her thinking I didn't know what she was cooking), but really conveyed to me that she was embarrassed that I had walked in on her boisterous disgusting act and was feigning confusion as an excuse to stop the microwave and wait until I had left to continue permanently ruining the microwave (I had pizza rolls today cooked in that microwave—no bueno). She didn't have a plate; she took the greasy crap to her desk to eat in paper towels (where she found the paper towels I have no idea; they somehow elude me), and I can only imagine what her desk looked like when she picked them up to throw away. You know when Willow hit the troll with the wand and it starts to turn into the two headed dragon? Of course you do, but in case you need to be reminded here it is. Her mass of nuked pig looked kind of like that. I told whomever was online what I had witnessed, and my mind was prepped for noticing other things throughout the day.

Before we move on can we take a look at this clip from Willow? It is so freaking awesome.

How awesome is:
The music, especially during "Can you ride? Let's ride!" part?
The catapult part?
Madmartigan and his troll kick?

I love:
Madmartigan's face when he turns around and sees the dragon for the first time.
How everything the skull faced guy says throughout the entire move is shouted. "Destroy the Beast! Find the Baby!"
When Madmartigan realizes he is standing with the bad guys

Why:
Does the dragon's head explode?
Do trolls sound like steam whistles?
Is there a talking goat? What!? You need to watch Willow! Now! You think I'm joking?!

Great Lines:

"Go in the direction the bird is flying!"
"He's going back to village!"
"Ignore the bird. Follow the river."

Madmartigan: "I love you, Sorsha?" I don't love her. She kicked me in the face.

Favorite line when I was little:

"We stole the baby from you, Daikini, while you were taking a pee-pee!"

Moving on: It started when I realized I didn't have a pen for class. Me. Not having a pen. I have no excuses. I don't know what happened. I am a wonder when it comes to writing instruments. It is not uncommon for me to lose a pen a day for seven days in a row, and have been known to lose upwards of three in an 8 hour period. Where they go and what they have going with the paper towels is a bloody mystery. I usually just buy a couple large packs of Bics and pour them into my backpack. Unfortunately, my backpack, along with my spare pens, had been stolen (part of the old stuff) and so I had no pen stash to fall back on.

I eyed the floor as I walked to class hoping to capitalize on someone's loss. Unfortunately again for me, nobody had lost and I walked into class naked. . .no, the reason I did not have a pen was not because I wasn't wearing pants. I had pants on, I mean I felt naked because I always have a pen in the left pocket of my current waistwear. So, I walked into class feeling as though I was naked still searching the aisles of the stadium seating. I took my usual seat, third row, left aisle, and looked at the floor around me—no pen, but I did find a torn piece of blue paper, a AA battery and a Junior Mint. That is when I started thinking of story ideas about finding things you aren't looking for and thought of a line and went to write it down in my notebook I keep in my left rear pocket and reached for a pen. . .Seriously? Did I just look in my pocket for a pen. Yes, I did. I sat back hoping I would remember the line (which I have forgot) reached in my bag and pulled out Carver and began to read the story "What do you do in San Franciso?" After I read the line "That was Saturday, as I said, the day before Memorial Day," I realized I must pee.

I stood up and left while taking advantage of my trip to the men's room scouring the floor for pens. With the rush of writing ideas, and with the few pages I read of Carver, my mind was attaching stories to almost everything I saw. A seated woman dropped a paper right in front me and I picked it up and handed it to her in stride and wondered what I would have done if she had dropped a pen, and then thought about saying, "Hey, since I did you this favor you should lend me a pen."

I walked into the bathroom and saw a kid spiking his very long black hair straight up, and as I settled into my chosen urinal I noticed the kid next to me was texting with his left hand. Couldn't wait 20 seconds, huh? Have to text mid-stream? What if he dropped it in the urinal? That would be awesome, that's what.

As I walked back I coveted a pen that someone had laid down while he was reading. Could I get it? I walked by two offices hoping to notice someone away from their desk. No luck. In the second office, Student Government, I saw a pen cup FULL of sprouting eager pens. Look at them in there with their orgy of pens and happy-go-lucky attitudes. I thought I could just go in there and start writing in my book vigorously and then pretend to put the pen back and walk out with it; a plan that was sure to work except I kept walking while thinking about it and ended up back in third row, left aisle penless.

I lucked out, though. The only thing during class that came close to really needing to be written down was a thought that I should title a previously written story "Aubade x4," but then decided that it was astonishingly awful and decided against it. Of course, what needed to be forgotten is now recollected.

Ugh

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Wed, 05 Nov 2008 17:31:00 +0000

I just now, just this second, heard someone complaining about winter because "(They) have no clothes for snow." I understand we can't all love winter as much as I do, but if your beef with it is because you have no clothes fit for snow, then that's a you problem. I know you have lived here for at least a few years but I am guessing you have been here all your life, YOU MIGHT WANT TO LOOK INTO GETTING SOME WINTER APPAREL! Winter comes at the same time every year, you know.

That being said, it is really coming down outside and I am very happy.

WTD?! (What the Dump)

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Fri, 17 Oct 2008 02:23:00 +0000

People pick the oddest things to care about sometimes. The building that shares a parking lot with my office fenced in their dumpster today. Why? I really really want to know why. I imagine some people in my building put stuff in that dumpster from time to time instead of going around back to use ours, but so what? I have been here for five years and have never seen it so full the lids wouldn't shut all the way, and Salt Lake County's finest are eating across the street at Crown Burger EVERY NIGHT till it closes and park right next to the dumpster, so I am doubting bums are sleeping in there. (Let me say again, EVERY NIGHT and EVERY LUNCH. I imagine they aren't the same cops every time or else they would be dead, but still, I have yet to see one that looks in shape. Also, WTD is up with all these fat cops? Isn't being in shape part of your job?)

So other people may use your dumpster from time to time. Is the waste company charging you per pound now? Does this change your life in any way? Putting a fence around a dumpster is not going to affect you at all. It is going to affect the guy who now has to get out of his truck to unlock and lock the stupid thing. And I bet normally you are just a joy to be around.

In Case You Were Interested 1

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Thu, 16 Oct 2008 16:39:00 +0000

I see the Unicycle Kid every Tuesday after class. The Unicycle Kid bothers me.

Other than feet there are two main modes of transportation on campus: the bike and the skateboard. Why would the UK choose the unicycle to get around campus? The answer, of course, is to show everyone that he can ride a unicycle. There really is no other practical reason. It’s definitely not as convenient as the two wheeled version, especially since the campus is set on a slope, there are no handle bars for weaving through pedestrians, no brakes, no gears. And if you are going for image, the image is uber-dorkiness, which last time I checked is not something to be desired. What does someone who rides a unicycle during the week do on the weekends?

First Problem—If there really was something to check, and it wasn’t just a saying, I’m sure I would want it burned immediately because I would think that if someone did do something that didn’t check out on that list, I would say that is all the more reason to do whatever they were doing. But what the UK is teaching me is that I would say that as long as I agreed with what that person was doing. If I didn’t agree, I would use said list to prove my point. I don’t want to be that person. I think people should do what they like, but he shows me that I have exceptions, and that ticks me off.

There are right and wrong reasons to do certain things. Right reasons to ride a skateboard around campus: it’s fun, relaxing between classes, helps you feel more confident. Being that there are so many skateboarders on campus they are all kind of lumped in together, and unless you know one specifically it would be hard to tell why they ride around campus on a skateboard. There is no way to tell, so they get the benefit of the doubt and don’t get scrutinized. However, since the UK is not part of some mainstream grouping he pisses me off. What? Now that one really doesn’t sound like me.

Ever since my little stint in eighth grade where I tried to be a cool kid (which may be a topic for another time) I have, for a large part, believed that the majority is usually wrong. “But that’s un-American,” someone says. Is it? When Good Luck Chuck comes out in the theaters and makes four billion dollars, I know I shouldn’t see it. (How many What Happens in Vegas’s need to be released before people stop going to see them?! You know why there is hardly ever anything good in the theater? It is because we don’t support good movies. Movie makers don’t have to try any more because they make millions of dollars remaking the same BS over and over again as long as they put Jessica Alba and Matthew McConaughey in it. And because of our continual support of this kind of entertainment we are slowly retarding ourselves. Soon the only movies coming out will be an infinite amount of films entitled “Ow, my balls!"* where people just get hit in the nuts over and over again while bare-chested girls jump up and down and celebrate. Yes, I chuckled when I saw that Japanese game show where the contestants have to say a tongue twister and if they mess up they get whacked in the balls, but the reason that is funny is because it shows a complete lack of standards. I have heard very stupid people say that that is what's wrong with America; we don’t have game shows where people get wiener smacked for answering a question wrong. No, you idiot, that is what is right with America. There are still standards. Those game shows are cautionary tales, not something to strive for. But it seems that these standards are starting to slip away. For example, we now have Hole in the Wall, an asinine game show we imported to this country because we are all getting dumber. If all we support is crap, all we will be left with in the end is crap because people will know they can get rich by making crap. Stop it! While I’m here, do you think Ashton Kutcher or Brad Pitt would be where they are today if they looked like Paul Giamatti or Philip Seymour Hoffman? Do we really believe that Jessica Alba is in every single movie since 2003 because she is a good actress? Come on, people. Let’s do better, huh? (I apologize for this extra long parenthetical rant. Moving on)). Whenever I drive by a book store where six-hundred people are standing in the streets dressed as draculas waiting for a midnight copy of Stephanie Meyer, I know I shouldn’t read it (I am assuming you can imagine a similar rant here). The point is (as I am sure you have forgotten) is that when it comes to certain things the majority is almost always wrong. The cool kids may be a small elite group, but the majority accepts the fact that they are the cool kids. ANYWAY, ever since my little stint in eighth grade where I tried to be a cool kid (which may be a topic for another time) I have, for a large. . .dangit! Let’s see. . oh yeah, why am I looking down on the UK for not being part of an accepted group and because I can single him out? How come he doesn’t get the benefit of the doubt?

Riding a unicycle around the university campus just screams, “Look at me!” which we all know is annoying. I guess you could argue that a blog, Facebook, Myspace etc. are all performing the same type of function. I hope a large part of my blog is “read and share with me,” but just about everyone who has a blog would have to admit the majority of it is still “look at me and care about what I have to say.” How much of what we do is so people will look at us? My guess would be somewhere around the area of a lot, and is having people notice you and care about what you do or say a bad thing really? I can’t say that I care about the UK, but I did have to write a post about him and can any human really judge anyone for wanting to be noticed?

See, I don’t want to think these thoughts; I just want to be annoyed that some kid rides around campus on a unicycle, but he has somehow made that very difficult. I hate crossing paths with this unitard because seeing him makes me look at myself, and I don’t like having to do that once a week. You smug one-wheeled tart.

*Watch Idiocracy

P.S. The UK reminds me of the Tight Rope Kid. While living in the Marriot Library at SUU I would observe the TRK as he practiced walking a tight rope between two trees. I just have a hard time understanding spending that much time working on an activity where even if you became the best in the world you would still just be a carnie.

In Case You Were Interested

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Thu, 16 Oct 2008 16:21:00 +0000

The last few times I have tried to post something on here it turns into a super long random rant. I try to keep posts on here pretty short, and when I write things that just keep on going and going I never put them on here. I thought that if I just made a segment where stuff like that happened I could give it its own title and then people would know if they want to spend the time reading the long randomness or not.

And so, for your reading pleasure (maybe) I introduce In Case You Were Interested.

For What it's Worth

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Mon, 22 Sep 2008 22:13:00 +0000

The video mentioned from the cabin trip.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V1NyyLo55EQ

A Conversation Overheard at Harmon’s Between Mother and Son That Reminded Me of High School

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Mon, 22 Sep 2008 21:28:00 +0000

“Why can’t I go?”

“Because it is going to be packed in the mini-van. There will be no room with everyone. Plus, you need to stay in school, anyway.”

“Nuh-uh. Guess who's getting straight A’s?” The mother held up her hand and they high fived. “Awesome!” she said.

“Not! I’m failing foods.”

“How can you fail foods!”

They Grow Up So Fast

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Sat, 20 Sep 2008 01:02:00 +0000

The Skookumish Cabin McCabin Trip

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Sat, 20 Sep 2008 00:01:00 +0000

I had a video here of Rob busting his bumper off, but it froze my computer every time I tried to play it.

Almost everyone

Ryan explaining the difference between onesies and footsie pajamas

Sorens

Answer: Articulation. Question: Rob's Favorite Word.

Yup.

Remember Bomberman from when you were little? It's still awesome.

Brett and Boston

Getting ready to pitch to the Babe

Zach and Marjorie

Too Good to Be True?

noreply@blogger.com (Johnny X) — Wed, 17 Sep 2008 17:16:00 +0000

Yes. The show was cancelled. I'm depressed.