The End Draweth Nigh

Next week Thursday is the last day of winter quarter classes. Five minutes ago I turned in my penultimate assignment of the quarter. The final assignment is due two weeks from tomorrow. I have no finals. Spring quarter doesn't start until March 26th. I love the quarter system.

A thrill rushes through me at the thought of free time and all I can do with it--the books I can read, the audiobooks I can finally transfer onto my MP3 player, the loose ends in my music library's organization I can finally tie up, the brilliant works of staggering genius I can finally write. All of this won't happen, of course. Free time, even without the burden of school, really only means the two or three hours between my children's bedtime and my own, and experience teaches me that this time passes all too quickly, usually wasted with random internet browsing, dishwashing, or some other pointless distraction. (I honestly don't mind doing the dishes; it just kills me to do them during that sacred time when the children are in bed and I could be doing something else.)

For someone who values downtime as much as I do (as a teenager and young adult, I honestly could spend hours and days on end doing nothing but reading and rereading comic books), I don't live a life that actually includes very much of it. I lament this fact often, but I don't really regret it. The children--the primary timesuckers in my life--are worth it, and I remind myself frequently that they will not always need one or both of their parents to pay attention to them each and every moment of the day (and often into the night). School, also, will not last forever (much as it feels like it already has), and it too will be worth it. I chose librarianship over English professorship, after all, not only because the two PhD programs I applied to rejected me, but also because it's a shorter program and leads to a profession that does not require me to do homework (in the form of lesson plans and grading) for the rest of my life. Eventually, I will get there.

In the meantime, I'll enjoy my spring break.

A Very Brief and Only Vaguely Sexual Scene in the Fobcave (specifically, the Fob bedroom)

SCENE: Master Fob and FoxyJ are lying in bed, a foot or two apart and facing each other. Master Fob's right hand lies palm up , pointing toward Foxy. Foxy lays her right hand on top of Master Fob's, interlocking the thumbs, effectively imitating a handshake.

FOXYJ: Is this what they call missionary position?

Funding Options for 07-08

Plan A: Get a FLAS grant, which is where they pay me (tuition plus a nice stipend) to take Spanish classes in addition to my LIS classes. This would mean, basically, that we're set, and it has the added advantage of not requiring me to work, which opens up time for FoxyJ to get a job, which leads not only to extra money but, more importantly, added sanity for the whole family.

Plan B: Get the graduate student assistantship with the iSchool that I just applied for. This would pay tuition plus a nice stipend, but they'd actually want me to work for the money. Still, though, not a bad option.

Plan C: Get rehired at the admission office next winter. This would pay tuition plus the nice stipend for winter quarter, but I'd have to fend for myself as far as fall quarter goes. The nice thing, though, is that while the other two options require me to stay through June (the end of spring quarter), this option means I could be be done with school in March (the end of winter quarter, as in a year from now).

Plan D: Get rejected by all of the above options and resort to selling my body for sex and/or scientific research. This has the benefit of advancing the field of science and/or sex.

God

I read the following in an application this morning:

"I never thought I could be close to God because I am gay."

I know a lot of people who have expressed similar sentiments, but I honestly can't say I relate. While many things have changed and continue to change regarding my feelings about religion and sexuality, the one constant has always been a God who loves me and accepts me for who I am. If God didn't approve of homosexuality, then of course he would make a way for me to not be gay; if experience showed me that there was no way for me to not be gay, then obviously God loved me as I was because I have never been able to conceive of a supreme being who is anything other than loving and accepting of his creations.

I suppose I have my upbringing to thank for this. Thank you, upbringing.

Unbias

In my job as an admissions reader, I am completely unbiased and impartial. If I were partial, though, I would be partial to the following applicants:

• Kids from Hawaii
• Kids who are gay
• Kids who are or ever have been Mormon
• Kids who want to be writers when they grow up
• Kids who write about superheroes (though I have yet to see one)
• Kids who write about Lauryn Hill (again, haven't seen this one yet but when I do he or she is definitely getting in--based on his or her other merits, of course)

I'm trying to figure out what the connection between all these things is, but I can't quite put my finger on it.

Six More

By request:

1. I am more concerned by my daughter's bum touching a public toilet seat than I am by my own. For her, I use a disposable paper cover thingee if the seat is at all suspicious-looking. For myself, I just wipe it off with toilet paper.
   
2. I can make my tongue into a W. Can you?
3. For some reason IMing and chatting stress me out, but I have no problem with having a two-hour conversation via a series of one-sentence emails.
4. Cryptic anonymous comments disturb me. Are you laughing with me or at me? I have no way of telling if all I know about you is that you live in Florida.
5. There was a missionary (not a companion, but an apartmentmate) who I would punch and wrestle with as an excuse for physical contact. I did so frequently enough that my motivations were probably obvious to anyone paying attention.
   
6. I lie to myself when I don't like the truth. My freshman year of college, for example, I realized that I really didn't like the Doctrine and Covenants, but I had not allowed myself to consciously admit it because I didn't think it was acceptable to dislike a work of scripture.
   

Apparently I'm supposed to pass this assignment on to six others now, but I hate to make anyone do something he or she doesn't want to, so instead I'll say that the first six people to comment saying the words "I accept the challenge, Master Fob" are invited to write six interesting facts about themselves on their blogs. I encourage you to do this especially if you secretly want to but are embarrassed to admit it. I promise, I won't tell anyone--not even myself.

The Polls Are Closed

Well, technically, they closed sometime yesterday, as I had to decide what I was going to indulge in.

The results:

• Chocolate -
  
• Fat -
  
• Swearing -
  
• Yelling at small children ||
  
• Sloth -
  
• Procrastination -
  
• Bad posture |
  
• Bad oral hygiene (i.e. failure to floss regularly) ||
  
• World hunger -
  
• War ||
  
• Misogyny -
  
• Misandry -
  
• Gerontophilism |
  
• Narcissism |
  
• Lust -
  
• Narcissistic lust -
  
• Gluttony -
  
• Pride -
  
• Excessive listmaking -
  
• Excessive questioning of the status quo |
• Vegetables |
• Yelling at old people and lusting after small children |

And when I add my own three votes, we get:

• Gluttony |||

But I am willing to give up more than one thing for you, my electorate, so in addition to giving up gluttony (in the form of eating large portions and eating out of boredom), I will give up bad oral hygiene, yelling at children, and war.

Yesterday I celebrated Mardi Gras by eating a pastry, two Hostess cupcakes, three cookies, a large yummy dinner (prepared by the amazing FoxyJ), and a molten chocolate cake with Haagen Daas vanilla bean ice cream and whipped cream (also courtesy of the foxy one). I also failed to floss, yelled at random children on the street, and invaded three small countries. I hereby repent of these sins. Until Easter.

And now I present, at no added cost (and I assure you, no added benefit), my answers to Tolkien Boy's inane questions:

The sweet kind or the sexual kind?
Is there a difference?
Yours or other people's?
Yours.
What the hell?
What indeed.
Yours or other people's?
Yours.
Actually, I read that most sloth meat is poisonous. Are you addicted?
I don't appreciate you mocking my addiction.
Don't you think it's taken you long enough to come to this resolution?
No, I think I'll put it off another year.
If you give this one up, does it give me permission to punch you in the stomach every time I see you slouch?
You, as well as anyone else who chooses to, always have permission to do so.
Are you aware that no one flosses except movie stars and the children of dentists?
Are you aware that you are the only person in the world who doesn't floss (as of today, now that I've started), and therefore should feel deep and lasting shame?
I gave this up in the spring of '89. Does it need to be given up again?
"...I would ask, can ye feel so now?"
In Bush's America?
Last I checked, Bush doesn't own the country. You must be thinking of Bill Gates.
You are aware, of course, that as long as you interact with women and maintain your Y chromosome, that this is impossible?
What makes you think I intend to do either?
Don't you know how cute the anders are?
Oh, believe me, I know.
How old is old?
40 and up.
You're giving me up?
Heh. Funny you should ask.
See last question?
See last answer?
Okay...that's weird...does this explain your need to wake at unholy hours to lift heavy weights?
Yes. Why is that weird?
A poll taken by Sir Jupiter and myself concludes that this is not something you deal with. Or are you talking metaphorically?
I am always talking metaphorically.
But not prejudice?
No, I never really had a thing for her. Apparently you didn't read my 100 Essential Facts carefully. Do so now; you'll notice he merits two facts but she, none.
Why not add excessive questioning of the status quo?
I did, but you were outvoted. Sorry.

Thank you for playing, please come again.

Lenten Votes

Tomorrow is Fat Tuesday. For those of you not up to par on your Catholicism (and I don't claim to be, except in this minor instance wherein I adopt a form of pseudo-Catholicism), that means that I will spend tomorrow indulging in an orgy of something, after which I will give up that same something until Easter. Last year I gave up ice cream (except in instances where it was offered to me by true friends). This year I am considering giving up the following:

• Chocolate
• Fat
• Swearing (though I'm not sure that counts because I've already mostly given up what little I ever did)
• Yelling at small children
• Sloth
• Procrastination
• Bad posture
• Bad oral hygiene (i.e. failure to floss regularly)
• World hunger
• War
• Misogyny
• Misandry
• Gerontophilism
• Narcissism
  
• Lust
• Narcissistic lust
• Gluttony
• Pride
• Excessive listmaking

I'm having a hard time deciding which sin(s) to give up, so I need your help. Please vote below. I expect no fewer than 52 comments--surely gerontophilism is as controversial as circumcision.

How Well Do You Know Master Fob?

As I'm sure you often wonder how good a Friend of Ben you are, I provide this unique opportunity to measure your fobby knowledge. Count how many of the following 100 Essential Facts About Master Fob you know, then score yourself out of 100. Report your score in the comments section in order to win the grand prize: a romantic evening with yours truly*.

1. Before I was Master Fob, I was Slappy White.
2. AKA White-White Boy.
3. AKA Whitey.
4. The guy who named me Slappy White referred to himself as Chief Little Nuts.
5. Chief, myself, and my friend Dandypratt were also known respectively as Crazy, Sexy, and Cool. Mostly by ourselves.
6. I started out college wanting to be a psychologist/psychiatrist/counselor of some sort. Then I served a mission and decided I didn't want to spend my life dealing with other people's problems.
7. Off and on over several years I thought I wanted to be a teacher, but then I spent a year teaching and decided I wanted to have a job that was done when I went home.
8. After some kind of career fair in middle school I decided I wanted to be a landscape architect. This desire didn't last long.
9. I took a career aptitude test in middle school that told me that I was best suited to be a gas station attendant. No joke.
10. I never actually went to anything called middle school. In Hawai'i it's called intermediate school.
11. I spent my first semester of seventh grade at Niu Valley Intermediate, then transferred to Stevenson Intermediate. We had moved to downtown Honolulu from a suburb, but I could have kept going to Niu Valley if I wanted to, as my sister did not switch high schools. After a month or two of commuting, though, I realized that I pretty much hated everything about the school I was going to so there was no reason to stay.
12. The new school wasn't any better.
13. I spent large chunks of my childhood staying home from school because of a mysterious condition we referred to only as "my legs." For weeks at a time I would have intense pain in my leg muscles that only got worse if I tried to walk on them. The only thing doctors found after a series of painful tests was that my white blood cell count rose dramatically when this happened. Or maybe it was red blood cells. Or blue--I don't remember.
14. I hate hate hate blood tests.
    
15. I get queasy just talking about blood.
16. The aforementioned blood tests suggest that "my legs" was not completely made up, but I do recall specifically that I knew when another bout was coming on because this always corresponded with an intense desire to not go to school or otherwise deal with life.
17. Once, after spending a couple weeks at home because of "my legs," I really wanted to catch the bus to the comic shop, so I decided that I was better and went.
18. During all this time spent home from school, I got addicted to my sisters' favorite soap opera, Days of Our Lives. Every once in a while now I read blurbs about what's going on on Days and I'm always amused to find that it's basically the same plots they were using fifteen years ago.
19. Soap operas were strictly prohibited in my home.
20. My first exposure to comic books, even before Batman, was Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I loved the cartoon and the action figures, so when I came across the comics in the library I had to have them.
    
21. My mom bought me a tracing pad so I'd have something to do with all that time lying on the couch, and I used it to trace all my favorite Ninja Turtle poses. Thus began my interest in art.
22. My true first exposure to comic books was actually G.I.Joe, which my brother and I bought from the local Waldenbooks with money we made delivering newspapers.
    
23. My brother and I had a G.I.Joe club when we were kids. We were the only members.
24. I always thought General Hawk was sexy.
25. And Flint.
26. My sister gave me a BB gun for my tenth (ninth?) birthday, but I used it only once or twice because I was politically opposed to guns.
27. I am still politically opposed to guns.
28. And they scare me.
29. I am also terrified of heights.
30. And the dark, wherein I imagine all sorts of hidden evils, both worldly and otherworldly.
31. When I was very little I had a recurring nightmare wherein I was taken to some dark, underground haunted house.
32. I had a related (in my mind, at least) recurring nightmare wherein I was in trouble for doing something bad and hiding from my dad, who was punching through a wall to get me. My mom finds this odd because it was not my dad who punched through walls but her first husband, who I never lived with or knew, really.
33. Perhaps my earliest memory is of staying home from church with my sister because I had chicken pox, then hiding when everyone came home.
34. I read a study recently reporting that the smell of male sweat triggers arousal in straight women and gay men, but I am grossed out by the smell of either gender's sweat.
35. I don't tend to sweat a lot myself, or have very strong body odor.
    
36. I do tend to make other unpleasant odors, though, such as the rancid gas I frequently pass, particularly in the morning. Sorry to those who have to suffer through it.
    
37. I often cut my own hair because I hate to waste the money paying someone else to do it. I don't do a very good job.
38. I currently have a faux hawk. Sort of.
39. I have a large mole right below my sternum, making a great bullseye.
40. I have had two spots of skin cancer removed--one from my forehead and one from my right nostril.
41. I have a birthmark on my right buttock, just below the Speedo line, to the amusement of the girls on my high school swim team.
42. I have very dry skin that cracks and bleeds even in Washington.
43. Once when my mom slapped me because I was being a brat, I slapped her back. I still feel bad about this.
    
44. In second grade I attempted to pull the trick wherein you take another's hand, announce that you are about to kiss the hand of the person you love most, then pull the other person's hand toward your lips, only to flip it around at the last second and kiss your own hand. Except somehow I forgot to do the flip and really did kiss her hand. The embarrassment has only faded away in the last few years.
45. The first boy I fell in love with was named Kevin and he was my best friend in fourth grade.
46. The first man I fell in love with was named Mr. Spinney and he was my principal in second grade.
47. I was 5'6" and otherwise prepubescent through my sophomore year of high school. I spent the summer between sophomore and junior years in Wisconsin with my dad and brother and came home about 5'11" and otherwise postpubescent.
48. I came home from my freshman-to-sophomore summer in Wisconsin with a new wardrobe of baggy skater clothes to replace my previous nerd attire. The cool upperclassmen in my French class looked at me the first day of school and said, "Whoa, Jean Luc, what's up?!" but other than that I was still a nerd.
49. My name in French class was Jean Luc.
    
50. I am not nor have I ever been a Trekkie.
51. My senior year of high school I graduated from nerd status to somewhat-respected crazy guy status by miming a murder in my drama class.
    
52. In sixth grade I graduated from nerd status to somewhat-concerning crazy guy status by writing my "How To" paper on "How to Commit Suicide."
53. For a year or two during elementary school I had special meetings with Mrs. Young, the school counselor (I think), because I was socially inept. She gave me M.U.S.C.L.E. Men for making small steps to overcome shyness. She knew how to motivate a kid.
    
54. I have worked in public service for most of my adult life. The part I enjoy most is when I don't have to interact with people. This is why I'm considering a switch to cataloguing.
55. I have a half-brother in Germany who's a bodybuilder. I've never met him.
56. My two oldest sisters (actually half-sisters, but only technically speaking) are half Seneca. Besides making great apple juice, they're also good at sitting crosslegged and giving things, then taking them back.
57. FoxyJ and I own a set of nice silverware we got as a wedding gift, plus a few odds and ends we brought from our previous lives. I always choose the nice silverware over the old stuff except when I am packing a meal to take to school or work.
58. When I was a kid we stayed in a motel for a night or two while our house was sprayed for termites. My mom brought one of the good knives and left it in the motel trashcan. I learned my lesson.
59. When my best friend across the street's house was sprayed for termites, a couple of his favorite spongy toys were accidentally left and had to be destroyed. I was not supposed to tell him this but of course I did.
    
60. My best friend across the street and his sister and I were part of a detective club, not unlike Scooby Doo's Mystery, Inc. We spent most of our time trying to figure out who the invisible man hiding in their tree was. Turns out he was a glare caught by our binoculars.
61. I am suspicious of any dessert not bearing chocolate.
    
62. The first superhero I created was a black-cloak-wearing (as opposed to a Black cloak-wearing) mystery man called the Shadow. I had no idea at the time that there existed a similar pulp hero of the same name. Mine was based on Darkwing Duck.
63. I spent much of my childhood watching Disney Afternoon and TGIF.
    
64. I spent a good half a year confused because when Sledge Hammer was caught in that explosion it said "to be continued next season" but, living in Hawai'i where we don't have seasons, I wasn't too clear on when I could expect to find out poor Sledge's fate.
65. I argued in the fourth grade that yes, you can get pregnant by kissing, because that's what I saw on Look Who's Talking.
    
66. Though I do remember from watching the oh-so-touching tv movie Baby Em that if you want to have a boy you should do it standing up.
67. At some point in my formative years my mom checked out a molestation-prevention video from the library for us to watch during family home evening. I was rather embarrassed by the corny guitar-playing man singing about his private parts.
68. We were one of the first families on the block to have a VCR because my dad got us one. We had VHS, but to this day I associate Beta with my dad because that's what he had at his place. (I think.)
69. We were one of the last families on the block to have a computer. My mom finally got one my senior year of high school.
70. Our Mac had some kind of database program that I thought was ultracool. I used it to catalogue my comic books not just by publication date but by chronological order, no small feat considering that I was dealing with multiple characters across multiple titles.
71. When I told one of my sisters that I was gay, she expressed concern that the scantily-clad female superheroes in my comic books had desensitized me to the feminine form. I'd hardly noticed that there were females.
    
72. I am righthanded but I write like a lefthanded person (but with my right hand).
    
73. My lefthanded sister once had a mug that said, "Hire the lefthanded--it's fun to watch them write."
74. I have no idea what the difference between ravens and crows is.
75. I got a 34 on the ACT. I would score this on a college application as Exceptional.
76. I always score higher in math than language on standardized tests. Even on the GRE, which I took six years after my last math class. I never pursued math because I never liked it.
77. I am a slow reader.
78. I am also a slow writer.
79. I hated Heart of Darkness when I read it in high school and I hated it again when I read it in college.
80. Mr. Darcy is the first and only literary character I've ever fallen in love with.
81. Colin Firth is no Darcy.
82. My back is pretty much always sore.
83. My nose is pretty much always stuffed.
84. My eyes are pretty much always tired.
85. In my sophomore PE class I made the mistake of sitting in the wrong seat one day and for the rest of the year I was called La La Boy. I still have no idea where that came from. I hated it.
86. When I am driving in the carpool lane with no other adults but two small children in car seats, I have imaginary conversations wherein I defend myself boldly to any who would dare accuse me of violating lane restrictions.
87. I spend too much of my time thinking of all the self-righteously vindictive things I didn't say to the Angry Feminist but should have.
88. I have an underbite and a crooked smile.
89. I pick my nose when I think no one's looking.
90. I am thrilled every time another human being touches me. Particularly attractive ones, but I'm not horribly picky.
91. My idea of heaven is sitting alone in a comfortable place, perhaps wrapped in blankets and pillows, reading comic books. I spent much of my adolescence in just such a position.
92. I also spent much of my adolescence attempting to crack the code of comic book chronology--how many years of real time, for example, correspond to a year in comic book time? Is it directly proportional or on some kind of sliding scale as you move from 1938 to the present? I was convinced I would find the answer if I looked hard enough.
93. My hips are wide for a man. No matter how much I trim off fat and add muscle, my hip-to-waist proportion--dictated not by fat or muscle but by bone shape--will always be greater than I find attractive in men. This is a source of constant annoyance to me.
94. My favorite underwear is the Tommy Hilfiger briefs I bought in high school.
    
95. When I feel stressed or frustrated with life I listen to angry rap music because somehow it vindicates me even though generally the source of my stress or frustration is not racist white police officers who oppress me. One of my favorites lately is "Shock and Awe" by Chuck D.
96. I have large feet. Size 12.
97. I played Batman in a movie I made in high school called Batman: Twisted featuring Clueless and the Craft. If you haven't seen it then you are missing out.
98. I have never danced with the devil in the pale moonlight.
99. I am not above spending five hours on a single blog post.
    
100. I am an introvert. If anyone--wives, mothers, best friends, and therapists included--scores more than fifty on this I'll be surprised. Many of these things I've not told a single soul before this--even some of the things that were actually worth telling.
     

*Void where prohibited. Valid only in the case that you, the grand prize winner, are married to Master Fob. If the grand prize winner is not in fact married to Master Fob, "yours truly" will be replaced with whoever is truly yours.

Sleep

Last night I got eleven hours of it. I did not have to struggle to stay awake today in class, or even this evening when I was reading on the couch. I'm thinking I should do this more often.

Small Blessings

As I was thinking that I did not feel like going to work because I have a headache and a stomachache and a body ache but not sure of how to justify such a decision, I got an email from a supervisor saying that there are no files for us to read, so there is no reason to come into work today. Now I'm going to lie down and "read."

To All the Girls I've Loved Before Conclusion

I've told the story of meeting FoxyJ on my mission, then courting her when we came home. Some of the elements of previous installments in the saga of my interaction with girls play out in this one as well: the decision to like her was somewhat of a conscious decision, and as with Red, I prayed to receive confirmation that I should marry Foxy long before we were at that point in our relationship, or even had a relationship to speak of. The reasons I decided to like FoxyJ, though, unlike Dandypratt's sister or Shannadoodah, were not founded in people or situations surrounding her but in Foxy herself. I loved that Foxy was incredibly intelligent and committed to the gospel. I loved that she had a good sense of humor--for example, she was known in the mission for winning burping contests with elders.

I return to the story of our courtship frequently, looking--as in the case of "Getting Out"--for evidence of God's approval of our marriage or--when I'm seeking excuses to get out in the more obvious sense of the phrase--for evidence of God's disapproval. It's easy, for example, to see what I interpreted as personal revelation as the result of my own neuroses fueled by years of Mormon brainwashing. I need to remind myself in both cases that none of this matters. Whether I chose to marry Foxy because an angel appeared to me and told me to do so or because the devil made me, ultimately the choice was mine and I made it. Success or failure will not come because of something I felt or didn't feel five years ago, but by what Foxy and I choose to do today. We will stay together because we choose to work through the weaknesses in our marriage and build on the strengths, or we will not stay together because we choose not to.

Today we choose to stay.

Brief Observations Made Over a Weekend Spent With Each of the Current Members of FOB

• Tolkien Boy will someday be a great father. S-Boogie always has a lot of fun with him and he worries, for example, about the fact that she looks like a little movie star. On the other hand, I tend to assume that this only means she will be happier than ugly people.
• Weed will someday be a great marriage and family therapist. He is great at listening and empathizing without making value judgments. After spending Saturday afternoon with him I felt happily therapized in a marriage and family sort of way.
• Sir Jupiter will someday be a great hot dog vendor. Or something. In the few months we've known him, he has been very generous to us, and his generous gifts have often involved food of some sort. Last night he made us a yummy dinner of Chilean-style hot dogs with tomatoes, avocado (he won me over with the avocado), and mayonaise.
  

To All the Girls I've Loved Before Part VIII

Now, because all of you have been on the edge of your seats for the past few weeks, I will finally reveal the secret origin of the Spastic Wet Noodle's name:

That's what she called herself. Because she was spastic. And kind of like a wet noodle.

Which leads nicely to Girl #8, Waffle Chick, who did not call herself Waffle Chick. It was Fabio who named her, because she worked on the waffle bar at the Morris Center cafeteria where we ate, and because she was a chick (as opposed to a dude). Fabio named her because he was the one who noticed her, he being a straight male and all. She was pretty hot, apparently.

For months we talked about Waffle Chick while he watched her from afar, but I also worked at the Morris Center so it was inevitable that I would eventually meet her and learn her real name, which I did long after Fabio had moved on to other love interests. I liked Waffle Chick because I had been told that she was hot and because she laughed at just about everything I ever said, but mostly because it was obvious that she liked me. I have a tendency to like people who like me--it's good for my ego.

So a few months before my mission, as it was becoming clear that nothing was going to happen with the Noodle, Waffle Chick and I started hanging out a lot. Then, one night, as we were going for a walk, I asked her what she'd do if I held her hand. (I had never held a girl's hand before, so, unaware of the proper etiquette, decided on a straight-forward approach.) She said that she'd let me, but then we'd have to decide what that meant for our relationship.

I held her hand, then, while we walked, and I did not let go when we sat down on a bench or while we DTRed, or on the way back to her car. Her hand was bigger than mine. I was slightly bothered by this (but of course didn't say so). We decided that we would go home and pray about it, then get together again to decide if we wanted to start a serious relationship so soon before my mission.

I, honestly, did not need to pray about it. When I was honest with myself, I knew that I was only interested in her because she was interested in me and it felt good to be liked. She was an incredibly good and nice person, but there was simply no spark on my side. So we had lunch the next day (or perhaps the day after that?) at TGI Friday's (I think) and, thankfully, the answer she had received jibed with the one I didn't need to receive: the time was not right.

Incompetency

A few years ago the Social Security Administration arbitrarily decided that FoxyJ's birthdate is not the date she was born on, and it appears that no matter how many of their hoops we jump through, they are unwilling to change their minds. Every year we think we have this fixed until, once again, our electronic federal tax filing is rejected because we've supposedly entered the wrong birthdate. Argh.

The Joy of Children

Raising children is often unrewarding. They scream, they talk back, they poop in their panties, they get sick, and rarely do you as a parent feel appreciated for all your hard work. There comes a special time, though, when all that hard work pays off, and suddenly it's all worth it: tax season.

A Similarity Between UW and BYU

Professors swear a little more often here than they do there, but in both cases the students find it equally hilarious.

PROFESSOR: LCC is a good example of an enumerated classification system. Hell damn ass.

STUDENTS: Bwahahahahaha!!!

One of the Big Differences Between UW and BYU

Here, I am frequently congratulated for my effort to do grad school while supporting a wife and two children. There, that's half the student population.

Caught (up)

I was supposed to spend my time at the information desk tonight doing my homework. I agreed to let myself get caught up on blogs before I got to the homework, though, and as it turns out those things gather up in my reader when I don't look at them for a week and a half. Six hours later, I've made it through all the posts I hadn't read and now it's time to go home. Maybe I'll do homework next week.

Another Example of My Social Neurosis

I'm sitting alone in the reading room at work, reading applications. Another reader walks in and, since we're short on files to read, I give him half of my stack of twenty.

"When we finish these we can switch and do second reads," he suggests.

"Yeah, that'll keep us going for a while."

He sits down at the desk next to me and we both proceed to read. You better speed up, I tell myself. What if he finishes his ten and you're only halfway through yours? You'll look incompetent.

So I speed up. Five files later, I glance at his desk to see he's only finished two.

Crap. Slow down. You don't want him to think you're being sloppy.

Because, of course, he cares.

Our Decision

Keep the baby. Lose the ear infection.

Little Dude

is on the verge of wearing out his welcome. Which is a shame, because up until a couple weeks ago he was sleeping so well at night and we were thinking of keeping him.

Selling him to the mob would be a lot easier if he weren't so darn cute during the day.