Firsts and Lasts

Moving day is coming up very quickly. Chelsea and I went to Lake Powell recently, and during the trip someone mentioned that we were leaving in two weeks and it kind of floored me; I honestly didn't realize it was so close. We are now in the midst of having our last get-togethers with friends and family.

Saying goodbye to the young ones of the family is always the hardest part. I will miss the adult members of my family, too, of course, but I guess in those cases I know what I am missing. I have nieces and nephews ranging from eleven to two. For them, interests are beginning to form and solidify. Personalities are either beginning to shine through or are really starting to mature. I will miss a lot of their growing up these next three years.

I recently wrote a couple of paragraphs that are going to allow me to finally finish a story I have been working on for a while (and makes it so I have to change the tense of every single verb). They talk about the importance of firsts in life. Basically, they explore Gordie's assertion in Stand By Me that nobody has friends like the friends they had when they were twelve. You can meet all the people you can in your adult life, and tell them all the stories you want about the experiences that made you you, but no matter how well you tell it, they didn't experience it with you. Your new friends can never be there the first time.

When I say goodbye to the young ones I think about all the firsts I will miss, then I think about all the firsts I have already missed because maybe I wasn't trying to hard enough while I was still here, and so I vow to do better, and then I get angry because now I can't make good on my vow for another three years, and that makes saying goodbye that much harder.

On Turning Twenty-Seven Years One Month and Fourteen Days Old (I'm Back!)

The last time I blogged was in October and before that, August. Honestly, I shouldn't be blogging right now, either. I had planned in my head a triumphant return to the blog, but it turns out all I want to do is make the background white...

As you would expect, a lot has happened since my last post: an engagement, the holidays, like eight birthdays including my own and Chelsea's, the end of a semester, a wedding, the beginning of a new semester, moving etc.

First things first: Engagement/Marriage/Wedding

An interesting phenomena occurred when we were engaged. It seems about 93% of the people we told about the engagement (excluding friends and family) had nothing positive to say about marriage. Usually they just mentioned that they felt sorry for us, or talked about giving up our freedom and joy. I was told to run on several occasions. Many times these conversations happened in front of the spouse of the marriage basher (oh yes, forgot to mention that a lot of these people were married). Yes, they were joking, but a lot of times it was hard to tell, and hearing a husband tell us, in front of his wife, that he wishes he wasn't married, and we shouldn't make the same mistake he did, usually turned into words that we shouldn't have been present for.

We should have given them the finger for making us feel so awkward, but what can I say, we're nice people. I would like to give that overdue finger right now, however. Odds are if you are reading this you either fall into the friends and family category, or the 7%, but if not, just take it, you know you deserve it.

I would also like to thank the two stand-out acquaintances that were positive. An older gentleman from Chelsea's work responded "I love my wife." That guy kicks ass. A guy from my work who congratulated me when we passed in the stairwell said, "Marriage is a good thing. I dig it." To you two, I say thank you. Your change of pace made our days.

The lesson: When an acquaintance announces getting married try not to let your first words, or any subsequent words, be about how he or she is making a huge mistake. If the urge is too much, say congrats (or, if you can muster it, a congrats!) and walk away.

Because we wanted a ceremony focused on family we had my brother perform our ceremony. He doesn't have a marriage license, but, since having the state recognize the fact that Chelsea and I wanted to be together was secondary, that didn't matter to us. In order to fulfill said secondary objective, though, we needed to get married in the fancy state clerk's office the morning of our wedding day.

I know most people wouldn't consider getting married in the clerk's office as being a fulfillment of the best of two worlds, but for us it really was, and we did not expect it to be. We got to have the super private ceremony that we had originally planned for and then realized was not realistic, and a more public get together afterwards; we got to give traditional wedding vows, and say the "I do" which we weren't planning on and was pretty cool; we were legally married by a woman, which made my wife so very happy.

We had a great experience inside that office, and it just proves that, as my brother would tell us later on that night, All You Need Is Love. There was so much of it in that little room.

The wedding was amazing. It went off almost without a hitch; we got about as close to 100% success as can be expected, I think. It was a great day. I don't think I have or ever will feel that loved in one particular moment in time again. There were so many of our loved ones in one spot, and they were there just for Chelsea and I.

Our families worked so hard getting the place prepared before the wedding. So THANKFUL for all them. We later saw in our unedited video footage our families taking care of things the people from Noah's (reception center where the wedding took place) said they would take of, like setting up the tables, taking care of messes etc. The employees mysteriously disappeared after the ceremony. The playlist that I spent like 12 hours on, then deleted and re-did, and was so excited to listen to on my wedding day, couldn't be played because the system got screwed up and we couldn't find anyone to help fix it, and for that same reason Scene-It couldn't be played.

In the time I haven't been blogging I think I have done more growing up than I have in the past five years. My life is very different now, and so much better than what it used to be.

Speaking of growing up, I am twenty-seven years old now. Tony Kornheiser made a joke on PTI the other day, and Wilbon said that 18-24 year olds around the country are laughing hysterically. It is still weird to not be a part of that demo anymore. I didn't get the joke either. It was stranger than it should have been probably.

All right, I better get going, but stay tuned because I have a lot more I was planning to put in this post. I will do my best to get it up here ASAP.

On Turning Twenty-Six

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.

Intermission - The Secret Garden

We will get back to Chile in a bit.

Hale Theater is currently doing The Secret Garden, and my brother, Strude, is playing Dr. Neville Craven. Today on the news they did a bit on the play, and my brother talks a little about the it and then sings Lilies Eyes. Check it out. They are the 2nd and 3rd video clips in the middle of the page. But, you should also just go see the entire production. I saw it on Saturday, and it was awesome. If you do go, go on Monday, Wednesday, Friday, or the Saturday matinee to see Strude. There is another cast on the other nights. For real, just go. Get a little culture people!

Also, if theater is yo thang, my brother and his wife run a web site called On Stage in Utah. Check that out as well.

Happy Pops Day

Troughout my life I have met a lot of people who tell me I have had an easy life. Some say it with envy, others say it like I just lost some contest, and I will have to admit that it is true. I don’t think anybody’s life really is easy, but what I think brings about these comments is the fact that all my faults and troubles are pretty much self-inflicted. I can’t blame anything on my parents. I would like to thank them, and especially my dad, today.

On my first New Years in Chile, while I was on my mission, it was our turn for my comp and I to go to the office downtown and pick up everyone’s mail etc. Most of the trip is spent on the subway. We were the only ones on the train, and when we got to street level we found the usually very noisy and crowded Santiago to be empty. New Years fell on a Monday, and being the prolific wine drinkers that they are, the Chileans had spent that Sunday night doing just that. So while the city slept their holiday away, we walked the empty streets of Santiago. I got a picture of me standing in the middle of an empty Pedro de Valdivia, a street that is usually bumper to bumper with busses, taxis, and collectivos.

When we got back to our train I started opening my mail. I found a letter from my dad and started reading it. He told me about how he had been able to come home for Christmas one year when he was in Vietnam, when he didn’t think he was going to be able to, and how he surprised his family. I knew that he had felt just as lonely as me once, as I sat on an empty train during the holidays in a place where a hundred degree heat brought in the new year instead of a white snow. That was the most powerful letter I ever read. I knew he missed me, and more importantly I knew he was proud of me, although those words didn’t appear on the paper anywhere.

I read it again.

While I was growing up, he always wanted to make sure I was ahead of the game. For example, I got the birds and the bees talk a good year and half before most of the kids in my school. That way when it was time for all the kids in my grade to go the famous ‘Maturation Program,’ it was old news for me. I think today I am ahead of the game in a lot of ways. I know my dad had fun as a kid, and I was allowed the same privilege. I never needed to worry about getting what I needed (and I got a good portion of things I wanted) and that freed me up to be a kid, have fun, and make choices for myself. Because of how I was raised I was able to discover, amidst the ups and downs, what life was supposed to feel like, and now I know what I am looking for. How many people can say that?

Thanks Dad. I appreciate it.