Mr. Sniffles

1. Sprite told me how to fix the commenting problem.
2. I memorized The Jabberwocky, by Lewis Carroll a year or so ago, and recalled all of it this morning.
3. My mom said she'd help my wife and me get the bag together to take to the hospital.

Well, the seasons are officially changing now.  Birds are chirping, rain has fallen, grass is growing, and it's obvious mold is growing too.  How do I know?  Because I went through about a hundred tissues this morning.  Okay, maybe a slight exaggeration, but every year my wife and I know that going from spring to summer is the time I start going through the Kleenex.

My allergies developed while I was on my mission in Minnesota.  I guess I had to take the good with the bad.  I'm not sure if they would have developed if I hadn't gone to the land of 10,000 lakes, and there's no way of knowing, but regardless, I have them now.  The reason that I've come to the conclusion that it's an allergy to mold is that my nose only starts dripping the day after it rains, and it's warm.  So, rain falls, moistens mold cultures (or whatever they're called), the sun beats down, giving a perfect growing environment, they release spores and make Paul feel like he's seven again, begging the teacher to let him have a tissue before he starts eating his own snot.

There really seem to be no other side effects besides a runny faucet, which makes me think I should stop complaining.  Other people deal with hives, or itchy eyes, or death.  All I deal with is a little germ propulsion (sneezing), right onto other people.  Oh yeah.  So, it's not like I have it too bad, but it is mildly annoying and kind of embarrassing when I'm talking to someone important and have to quickly excuse myself to snort and sniffle into a facial wipe, and then try to explain that it's allergies and isn't contagious.  Good times.  But again, I know that some people eat strawberries and their throats close off, so I'm not too mad about being Mr. Sniffles.  Anyway, just thought I'd share how things were going with my nostrils, because I knew you were interested.

Have a nice day.

I can't leave comments

Hey all,
So, Blogger has stopped working for me, and I cannot leave comments on others' pages, nor can I leave them on my own.  While it may seem like I'm ignoring your comments to me, or that I'm not reading your blogs, because I don't leave my usual lame witty comments, I am in fact reading.  Just a heads up.

I Got Duped. You Don't Need to Tell Me I Did

1. I have a cousin who actually wants me to go to his high school performances.
2. My wife starts having weekly check-ups now (it means the time comes swiftly).
3. My condo has two bathrooms.

Today's post will kind of be a bash on myself.  My buddy posted this hilarious thing on facebook.  It looks a little something like this:

To say the least, I laughed pretty hard when I read it.  It makes you imagine a scene of three marines kicking the trash out of a criminal, and I'm juvenile so that's funny to me.

I commented about how I thought that it was funny, and shortly after my comment there's one of his friends who posts something about how this news article is fake, that a guy did stab a Marine, but nothing else happened.  Even the guy's name is wrong, and it has been floating around the Internet for years.  I really didn't care so much if it was real or not, it was a funny story.  I wasn't going to google for a source.  But it did take away some of the magic.  Even if it didn't happen, it could have.  Reality was suspended by wires of humor and this guy clipped those wires, allowing the story to plummet and robbing it of its comedic value.

Now, I'm not saying I haven't done things like this before.  When I know something is fake I like to sound smart just like the next guy.  I like to show that, unlike all the rest of the morons, I have not been duped.  Yet, in my arrogance, I'm taking happiness from people.  It's not like there's going to be some random cult that pops up because of these images.  People's lives won't change for the worse just because they read this.  If anything, it will instill a love for country and servicemen, and why is that so bad?  I need to just chill out, and so does everyone else.  Not all stories need to be true to be funny or important.  Not all truth needs to be pointed out.

A note to my family and friends:  This post does not mean that I want you to point out when I'm a kill joy.  I know when I do it, and I'll call myself out on it.  I'll be fine without help on this one.

So, if you find that you're a kill joy, lighten up.  Life is long, life is good, and people don't always tell the truth.  That's life, and we might as well be happy about it, even if we aren't the ones being duped.

Have a nice day.

Maybe I Should Stop Learning this Stuff, for The Kid's Sake.

1.  It's high school baseball tournament time again.
2.  Canucks are in the Cup.
3.  A writer here in Utah informed me that the publisher I was going to start going with isn't really a good one. (Good info, and I'm looking at it on the positive side)

So, I don't have much time to blog today, but I was thinking about an issue my kids may have in school because their parents are educated.  That is, they'll say err correctly.  Some of you already know where this is going, but I feel like sounding smart, so indulge me.

A common phrase that this word is used in is, "Let's err on the side of caution."  Are we all together and know what word I'm talking about?  Good.  So, most people pronounce the word in the same way they pronounce the word 'air' right?  This would make sense, even in the dictionary it references error as being linked with err, and error is pronounced 'air-or.'  So, how do you pronounce err?  Like this, 'uhr.'  like the beginning of the word urn.  Yep.  That's the correct pronunciation.  So, I'm sure my kids will say it like that in school, and some English teacher will not understand what they mean, and once they do understand, they'll tell my kid he/she is saying it wrong, and I'll have to think about how to tell my kid his/her teacher is wrong without saying his/her teacher is an idiot... good times.

On a related note, ignorance is bliss.

Have a nice day.

You've Gotta Work for Your Dream... There's No Way Around it.

1. My mom made white chili and invited us over yesterday.  (so good, cannot even tell you).
2. I have the means to go to college.
3. I have a supportive wife.

Do you have those dreams that you know won't come true?  Mostly because you won't ever put in the time and effort, or take the risk to try them out?  Well friends, I have an acoustic Fender sitting in the corner of my office.  Everyday it beckons to me, and I know how to play a little.  I know all of the acoustic version of Cute without the E, or Cut from the Team

I know how to play Dammit, by Blink 182 (The edited version of course)

And I also know most of Freshman, by The Verve Pipe

Now, I never said that I played them well, but I do enjoy playing and my wife is kind enough to listen.  What I really dream of though, is being a rock star.

Hear me out on this one guys.  Wouldn't it be awesome, to do a job that people loved so much that they paid two hundred a ticket just to watch you do?  I mean, I can't imagine people paying money to cram into my tiny condo to watch me write about dating. But, to be able to stand on a stage in front of hundreds of people, playing my guts out, and them freaking out because I'm so awesome, sounds pretty great.

There are a few reasons why I know this is just a day dream though.  #1. I think more about what I'd say in between songs than what I would actually play.  In my opinion, Def Leopard had the best rock show beginning ever, with the lead vocalist screaming, "I said-a welcome to my show!  We've got the whole damn night to fall!"  Yeah, I want to scream that into a microphone SO badly (and to have it actually be my show, of course).

#2 I don't practice enough and I really didn't start early enough.  Kurt Cobain practiced something like five hours a day, playing lefty on a right handed guitar after school each day... in high school no less.  He then started his own lawn care company to fund his band, and practiced with any other time then too.  I, on the other hand, pick up my guitar and play every few days for fifteen minutes or so.

#3 I'm just not talented enough.  I know that sounds annoying, because hard work can often make up for talent, but I've tried to write my own tunes, and I get about as far as two chords and then realize I'm just playing a song I already know.  I suppose that I could work through that issue, but that would take #2 not being true.

Some of you are probably thinking that I should have a #4 reason, that of me being a Latter-Day Saint, and me having a family, but neither are really reasons not to be a rock start.  The drummer (I think) for The Killers is a Latter-Day Saint, and I imagine there are good dads in rock bands, I just don't know who they are.  Eric Clapton might fit the bill I guess...

It's cool though.  Writing is really my passion.  I throw my ideas into the world that way, even though I will never have a hoard screaming people trying to watch me type the next word, and it suits me just fine.  I just enjoy day dreaming about me saying, "On drums, so-and-so, on bass guitar, what's his face, and me, Paul, on lead vocals and guitar.  Are you ready!" (in a British accent too... why?  I'm not British).

Have a nice day.

It's Gettin' Real.

1. My Internet started working again.
2. My mom threw my wife a great baby shower on Saturday.
3. I got the amazing opportunity to ordain one of my friends an Elder in my church.

As the second thing that has been going right says, my wife had a baby shower on Saturday.  We got all kinds of awesome stuff, that now sits in our house, still in the bags, and waiting for us to write down who they are all from so we can write thank you notes.

Looking around my house now, us having a baby seems all the more real (not to mention that I am learning to find the head, back and feet of the baby, still in my wife's womb).  I'd like to go into a rant about how it all freak me out, because that would likely be funny, but I make it a point to make this blog as honest as possible, and it doesn't freak me out at all.  I'm really excited to be a daddy.  I want to explain the world to my child and help them decide what they think about it.  I want to go to tee ball games and try my best to teach them to stop on ice skates.  Even when it's still a baby, I'm excited to hold it, and learn what I am supposed to do to take care of it.

Now, don't get me wrong, I still don't feel ready.  I'm still nervous and dont' yet see myself as a dad, but that doesn't really scare me.  I've done lots of things that I didn't feel ready for and this is just another one to add to the list.  Sure I'll mess up.  Sure I don't exactly know how to change a diaper, but I'm not scared to learn.  It'll be one more adventure in my life, just like marriage was.  It'll be a change, and changes can be fun with the right outlook.  I'll get to have a minion of my own who will probably look a little like me.  Let's be honest here, who doesn't want a shorter version of themselves to do their evil bidding?  Most people have to make them in test tubes, or buy expensive robots that are constantly in the shop getting fixed anyway.  Sure, mine will be expensive, and will think for itself, but I'm still pretty sure that I can get it to mow my lawn, and take out garbage, you know?  My evil bidding.

Anyway, it's just starting to seem more real and I'm stoked.

Have a nice day.

I've Got it Pretty Good

1. My wife's Baby Shower is tomorrow.
2. Which means that my dad, my brother, and I will be driving a bunch with my brothers dog.
3.  And in the end, we already discussed getting DP Cheesesteaks.  I don't post on Saturdays, so I thought I'd gloat today. :)

After reading The Jungle, I've been thinking about other books I've read and movies I've watched that tell a similar story.  The Grapes of Wrath, Of Mice and Men,  Far and Away, Cinderella Man etc.  They are all stories about real groups of people.  People for whom the question of, "What are we going to eat tonight?"  was said with a little more reverence, and a very different meaning.  When someone died, they really did have to discuss how the funeral was to be paid for, and a 'Pauper's Grave' was something that was a real option.  I know they're all just stories (except Cinderella Man, he was a real guy), but it seems fairly accepted that they portray real life for some people.

Then, I think about myself, and I think about how I sometimes say that I'm poor.  And in comparison to many people I am, but these kind of stories make me pause a little before saying it.  My wife and I looked at baby gear before we even 'pulled the goalie.'  We wanted to make sure that we could pay for another little person before we made one.  So, we made a spread sheet and started doing our homework.  We discussed car seats, with features and safety ratings, that snapped into matching strollers, that were called 'travel systems.' We looked at neutral colors (because we don't know what we're having, and we want to be able to use the gear for our next child).  We discussed pro's and con's of high chairs and 'pack'n'plays.'  We talked about cribs and their different features.  In all, we looked at a spreadsheet and the total was around a thousands dollars (which didn't include diapers, or wipes, or anything of the like).  We saved for a long time, and we knew that the baby shower would come and people would ease the burden, but we wanted to make sure that the baby's well being was on no one's shoulders but our own, so we saved and got ready.

And looking back on it, I remember making what I like to call 'sacrifices.'  I stopped myself from buying games, movies, or books that I wanted.  We ate out less, and made more meals.  Yet, as I look back at the immigrant workers, or the people of the Great Depression, or the people of the Dust Bowl, I can't help but see how blessed I am.  Sure, I went without a few niceties so that my kid could come into a house that was ready for it, but that's all they really were, niceties.  We discussed something called a pack'n'play, a cage for the child.  I can't imagine anyone of any of the categories talked about previously ever even thinking about buying a pack'n'play.  I've never truly been poor.  I don't know what it's like to not have food, or lodging.  I don't REALLY know what's it's like to fear losing my job.  Sure, I've never wanted to lose it, but I always knew that I'd be taken care of.

As I write this, I wonder what my point is.  I guess what I'm really trying to say here is that I don't have it too bad.  I have my piddly little problems that I deal with, but I don't know if I know what bad problems really feel like, and I'm grateful for that.  I've had a good life, just thought I should admit it.

Have a nice day.

Book Review for The Jungle (I Promise it's Not Boring)

1. Upton Sinclair wrote "The Jungle."
2. I have more than enough to eat everyday.
3. It's raining again!  Yay rain! :)

Well, I'm almost done with Jungle, and should probably wait to write this post until I'm done, but don't think I would write anything different if I did wait.   To say the least, I like it.  It reminds me a great deal of The Grapes of Wrath, in that it is about people going through especially hard times while living in a system that refuses to allow them to do anything else.  I'm coming to love Sinclair's monologuing.  It has a fun flair about it that was hard to get used to at first, but is really fun once you've been immersed in it.  I like his lists.  If you pick any of his monologues, he'll go through lists of people, or jobs, or meat products, or whatever, to paint a very clear and broad picture of what he's talking about.  It's just fun to read.

In rebuttal to my doctor, I would argue that the book is not so much about capitalism, but how corrupt men can do evil things with unrestrained capitalism.  Hey put out an unsanitary product, and made their workers work in conditions that were not just 'unpleasant' but downright harmful.  And paid them so little, while bringing in so many that they could make them earn a wage only big enough to barely keep them alive, and then when the dangerous job finally hurt them enough, they were easy to replace by the throngs of workers the business men had tricked into moving there.  That's not capitalism's fault, that's evil men's faults.

The language is beautiful, and the story is interesting.  My only real complaint is that there seems to be no ending in sight.  Every stroke of good fortune is taken away two pages later, and the one 'good fortune' he has for a couple of chapters is really just him screwing his friends over.  This may have been a tool used by Sinclair to help the reader feel some of the same feelings as the main character though, it just makes me tired and want for Jurgis to quit.

All in all a good read.  I would definitely recommend it, but also warn that it is sad... the whole way through.  So if you're looking for a pick-me-up, don't read it, if you're looking to have your mind blown and to think about the evils of society, go right ahead.

Have a nice day.

Back on Schedule... Almost.

1. Only four more weeks until week forty.
2. I got some awesome information from an author friend of mine about publishing.
3. I don't have to work in an old fashioned meat packing plant. (The Jungle has me all sad for those people.  Assuming it's accurate of course).

So, I had to wake up at eight yesterday to go to the doctor.  The night before I stayed up until three, or so, because my body is used to staying up until that time.  I was tired at the doctor, but excited because I might be able to get back on a normal cycle.  Last night I felt extremely tired at about ten.  "Yes," I thought "I might be able to actually get to sleep and wake up at a normal time."  Sure enough, I slept like a baby and when my wife woke me to make her breakfast I thought again, "YES!  I for sure got myself back on a normal schedule."  Then I tried to go back to sleep, couldn't, wandered the house for a bit, came back to bed, read a couple chapters of The Jungle and laid back down.  My alarm went off at eight thirty and I thought, "Oh, I'd like to wake up at more like nine, but with how great I'm feeling I shouldn't need an alarm."  I woke up at around one to my wife calling and asking if I was dead, because she had texted me thrice (don't I sound cooler just from using that word?), and I hadn't texted her back.

Fellow bloggers, what's the deal with me?  How could I possibly have slept that long.  It's not like I've been up for days at a time and my body finally decided it was time to crash.  I got to bed at a decent time.  I shouldn't have been four hours tired.  But alas, I will probably have a hard time sleeping again tonight.  Why does my body do this?  Do I really need that much sleep and I just don't know it?  Or has my sleeping in on weekends trained my body to get as much sleep as possibly while it can?  Either way, I feel a little disappointed that my body might be back to the same old schedule of staying up til three and waking up at noon. I sure hope not, but if it is, it will be no one's fault but my own.  Oh well, life goes on and I don't have it as bad as some people.

On a happier note, I think I'm close to being done with my book.  I really just need to do research and an incredible amount of editing, but at least the gist of what I want is down on paper... well, on laptop anyway.

Have a nice day.

The Jungle

1. I can read.
2. I'm married to a beautiful woman.
3. My dad stuck around to help raise me.

So, in the contract I made for myself (because I'm employing myself as a writer), I am supposed to read a lot.  In turn, I've read a bunch of books lately and am now reading The Jungle, by Upton Sinclair.  I'm only on page four, but I can tell it's going to be sad, and I'm going to like it.  How can you not love a guy who loves his family and repeats the phrase, "I will work harder" when times get tough (can anyone else see the connection to Animal Farm?).

Anyway, the reason I felt like writing about this today, and not Bossypants, 1984, or Animal Farm (which I've also read recently) is that I went to the doctor today and brought the book to read while I waited.  The doctor noticed it and said that he read it in high school and didn't like it.  I said that I didn't expect everyone to like it; it certainly wasn't happy.  He then said that it wasn't that which he didn't like.  He didn't like that it was anti-capitalism.  He said it was taught to him as a book that changed America in the way we slaughter animals, but that it was really about an immigrant family who gets squashed by Capitalism.

Now, I can see where he's getting that.  In ways, I could come to that same conclusion.  I see it more as the book being about treating your workers like humans instead of like the cows and pigs that are being slaughtered.  I only said that I think today's Capitalism is better than it was back then and left it at that.  He said something about safety nets and we moved on.  ( I needed my heartburn medicine and wasn't going to lose it over a discussion on the importance of The Jungle)

Either way, I haven't really finished it yet anyway, so I dont' know as my opinion has any real weight.

Have a nice day.

One Interesting Dream

1. Blogger didn't actually destroy my posts.
2. I get to write about the three strikes rule of when to give up calling a girl today.
3. My wife loves me (not everyone has this).

So, my dream last night was interesting.  It did show me that I'm interested in my line of work though, which was nice.

I went to my elementary school.  I walked to where my old sixth grade class was and saw a different teacher than my own.  I then saw a teacher who taught there when I was younger giving me the stink eye.  When I looked at her she quickly said, "Are you a student?"  I shook my head no, "Then you need to check in with the office!"  and pointed a long finger toward the doors that lead to the office.

Looking on the dream now, I know that I didn't really walk toward the office, but where I walked looked to be an office.  I saw my old sixth grade teacher there and said hi.  She said hi back and asked why I was there.  I honestly didn't know.  I remember thinking to myself in the dream, "Yeah, why would I come here?"  A thought then popped into my head, and I said, "Well, I'm a writer.  I'm looking for my next story."  (this really isn't surprising.  My brother in law asked me last night what my next piece was going to be after finishing the two I have going)

She then walked back into a room and brought out a brown piece of paper, grotesquely cut into the shape of a human.  On the little person were four holes around its neck, they each shone a different color, then she told me to put them to my face and they all became one blinding light.  I then read what the child had written on its stomach.  I don't remember exactly what was written but it alluded to domestic violence (that's right, I can read in my dreams, not just get impressions but read actual words).  Then I thought, hey, maybe I could write a book about some kind of insane doll or something.  When I woke up I remembered there were already a bunch of those.  Oh well, still a weird dream.  I might still make it into some kind of story.

What do you cats think?  Could it be a story?

Have  nice day.

I Want to Think of Something Else to Write About, but I've Got Nothing

1. I get to write the "getting her number" part of my book today.  SO EXCITED!
2. My wife only has reviews and tests left and then she's done teaching for the year. (She teaches high school, I don't know if I've mentioned that).
3. Cell Phones.  Not to sound old or whatever, but I don't remember what we did without them.  I know there are annoyances associated with them, but I'm focusing on the conveniences today.

Okay, I think this happened to some of you too, and maybe Blogger will fix it, but two of my pages are gone.  I know it doesn't matter in the grand scheme, but I really liked them.  The first was about how I got all mad about getting my wife's food and how I didn't know if I should feel guilty about it, and then I got some wicked awesome comments about how I shouldn't and about how there must be something to it because I felt guilty.  The second was me explaining that I shouldn't feel guilty, but that I did because I had super human expectations, and how AC brought this to my attention, and how my wife told me that there were lots of people who didn't want to go to work, but they did it anyway and that sometimes it's just the doing, not the wanting that matters.  They were posts that taught me something about myself.  I worked through some of my shortcomings in those two posts, but I know I can't recreate them.  I'm a different person today than I was two days ago.  I can't fully express exactly what I was feeling, only vaguely what I remember.

Anyway, I don't mean for this to sound all dramatic.  I won't lose my mind over it, but it does bother me a little.  I guess I just wanted to preserve what I could remember, knowing that I'll probably not have the two posts back.  Anyway, as I said in the things I'm grateful for, I'm writing the digits part of the book today.  I'm most excited because that's the part I loved most about the dating game.  It was pure adrenaline, walking up to those girls and asking them out.  I remember sitting in the food court at the University with some buddies.  One of them commented on the attractiveness of a girl, and I asked why he didn't ask her out.  He gave me a funny look and said that was stupid.  So, I got up, walked over to her, and asked.  She had a boyfriend I think, but the look on my friends' faces was classic.  The rest of the time until our next class was filled with them picking out girls and me asking for their numbers.  I was an adrenaline junky of the worst kind.  So uh, I may not like what happened to blogger, but I'm excited to get to writing, so I'm going to do that.

Have a nice day.

AC Helped me See Deeper Into Myself, Now it's Your Turn

1. Awesome blog friends who help me see clearly again.
2. Family who is doing Myfitnesspal.com and asked me to do it with them again (I fell off the band wagon and have really wanted to get back on).
3. A supportive dad who read my chapter 2 manuscript, said he liked it, and marked it up a bit so it sounds better.
4. A supportive wife who reads my book through with me and tells me what isn't coming across right.

That's right.  I had four things to be thankful for.  Don't expect this to keep up, I'll probably stick to three; I just happened to have four come easily to me this morning.

So, Antares Cryptos made a very interesting comment on my blog yesterday that opened my eyes a little wider to myself (see AC, you totally deserved that award).  He pointed out that I seemed to be feeling a little guilty for not wanting to wake up, though I really didn't need to.  This got me thinking.  I did feel guilty, but I wasn't sure why.  Every one's comments made sense; it was human nature to want to stay in bed.  The more I thought about it, the more I reflected on who I wanted to be, and how maybe who that was wasn't a real person.

Who I wanted to be was a completely selfless husband, apparently one who does not feel tired or need sleep.  I wanted to be a perfect father, who, when doing something for his child feels no pain.  The more I read the comments, and thought about great dads and husbands who I actually know, the more I realize that the person I seem to want to be is not human.  He's this insane robot who doesn't dream, but only powers down, then jumps right back into the thick of it as soon as he's needed.

Once this hit me, I started thinking about some research Kris Doty is doing.  She is one of my teachers and often speaks of something she's sees a lot in the women of Utah.  "Toxic Perfectionism" she calls it.  She sees women who want to be perfect in every way, and when they fall short they go into a depression, which then only leads to them noticing more imperfections and so on and so forth.  I felt, if for just a brief moment, what she was talking about.  I wanted to be who I thought was a perfect individual, but in that perfection, I think I would lose some of the cool that I am.  I have feelings and dreams and thoughts that are my own, meaning that the selfish side of me is bound to show his ugly head occasionally, and that's okay.

I talked to my wife about all of this last night and she reminded me of something that I had forgotten.  There are bunches of people who wake up every morning dreading going to work.  They work so that they can support their family.  If they hate their job, does that mean that they really don't care about their family?  No.  It just means that what they have to do to support their family is not fun for them, but because they love their family, they do the hard thing.  Waking up in the morning and getting my wife's meals for the day together really isn't too hard, but I don't particularly enjoy it.  Just because I don't enjoy it doesn't mean that I don't love my wife and child, it just means that don't enjoy it.  She said that what was important was not loving the thing, but loving her and Baby J enough to do the thing, and I do the thing.  So, I guess I'm not really too bad after all, and even typing that feels pretty darn good.

Have a nice day.

Does this Make Me a Bad Person?

1. I learned to read when I was younger.  I'm not just saying this because most people of the world can't read, but because
2. I finished Bossy Pants by Tina Fey in one night.  Yep, I'm exhausted, but what a good read.  I noticed that the parts I liked best were about
3. SNL doing the news update.  How many laughs did I get from that?  I'll probably never know.  A lot.

That's right.  I was up late reading Bossy Pants until about three.  I remember it being somewhere around two or so when I thought, "Meh.  Only forty more pages and I'll have finished it in one evening.  Let's do it."  As I may have bragged about on here before, I've been making my wife's breakfast (code for: putting milk in a container so she can have oatmeal once she gets to work, along with some fruit snacks and a piece of fruit or two).  Well, this morning, when she woke me up to 'make breakfast' she asked if I was awake, and I said "not really," or something of the like, with an air of, "Could you grab your own milk this morning."  I'm not sure what question she followed up with, but I do remember thinking, "That wasn't really a question, that was a command in question form."  So, I got out of bed and 'made breakfast.'

My reasons for starting making breakfast are two fold, and may rest on your philosophical beliefs about human nature.  On the one hand (if you believe humans have agency and genuinely care about each other) I was sad when I heard about how my wife would get sick during the day because she ate no breakfast.  On the other hand (and this one is for all you die hard Darwinians) I also heard that eating breakfast was a part of having a healthy, happy baby.  So, with both of my hands, I decided to start pouring milk into Tupperware making my wife breakfast.

I've been doing it with little complaint until this morning, but this morning's thoughts made me think, "Does me not wanting to do this make me a bad person?"  I mean, I was super tired, but it would seem that one would want to make their spouse happy right?  This then got me thinking about what actually would make someone a bad person.  Where is that line?  Or was Rodgers right all along and there really aren't bad people, just bad actions and labeling them as bad is a great way to label ourselves as bad, which will only lead to a belief that we cannot change our bad actions because they make up who we are, and who we are is a bad person.  I personally like Rodgers's ideas, because I don't like thinking that people are bad, because I'm a soft hearted dork.

So, I guess what I'm getting at here is, should I feel guilty about this morning, or chalk it up to part of the human experience and realize that waking up at six thirty will never be awesome when you've stayed up until three or four reading, no matter how much you love your spouse and unborn child.  I don't know.  To be completely honest, I'm kind of over it.  I'm just blogging about it because I find it interesting and want to know what people think.  To be honest, maybe it was bad of me to feel that way.  To be even more honest, maybe Rogers was full of it and it really does make me a bad person.  In any case, I'd like to know what you think.

Have a nice day.

I Gots Me Some Awards

1. My mom and I are doing lunch today.  It's gonna be great.
2. Yesterday's writing went smoothly.  Better than I thought it would really.
3. It's been raining.  Which I usually don't like, but I sure do like how it makes things smell, and I figure it's part of life, so I might as well just learn to like it (I have a lot of time to experience it).

Here we go.  While in my absence, my awesome blogging friends did not forget about me, and like the title says, "I gots me some awards."

First off, from The Coolest Fairie I Know comes the great commenter award.

This award kind of explains itself.  As we all know, comments are validation that people do actually read your blog and don't just stumble upon it, so I owe a lot to these kind souls.

1. DBS  I know I always give this guy awards, but he was really my first follower (aside from a couple of friends who I actually know), and he really is one who takes time out of his day to read my stuff and give solid feedback.

2. Vinny C I know, another regular.  But Vinny really has been a great commenter.  On many occasions he's been able to help me see another side of things that I simply hadn't before, along with backing me up on things I needed support on.  Super awesome.

3.Oil Filled Trash I think I'll probably always have issues with his name, but OFT (as I like to call him) is always good to throw in some of his own witty humor to the comments he leaves, and I think we could all use a little more witty humor.

4. Antare Cryptos or AC for short.  I know Sprite already gave him this award, but honestly, how can one not give it to the guy who basically had his own blog through comments until we forced him to create a page.  His comments always hold exactly what the writer needs.  Humor on the funny ones and support on the hard ones.

Okay, thank you all for your comments.  As you can read I chose you all for a reason.  Now let's run off to AC's page to get my other award.  He actually also gave me the commenter award along with:



Which I am going to start by giving to the people listed above, mostly because they all deserve these awards too.  Now, it looks like I need to give these to ten people in total, and I have just the folks... below. :) I'm not sure how this is going to look once published, but that is one creepy looking smile...

1. Kev D.

2. Sprite

3. Average Girl

4. Shelby

5. Missy

6. CB Michaels

So there you have it.  You've all been notified and are asked to pass these awesome awards along.

Have a nice day.

I'm Back!

1. I got a 4.0 this semester.
2. I found out that I have some awesome blogging friends who noticed that I was gone.
3. My baby has been moving around a lot, and on the last mid-wife visit, it was head down (which is good).

That's right everyone, I'm finally back.  I took a week off after finals because I'm lazy like that, and am not committed to being back in the thick of it.  Today is actually my first day as a professional writer... well, not in the literal sense.  I don't yet get paid for what I do, but I have hired myself to write my first book this summer and try to get it published.  It will be a dating book.  I plan on trying to get it published by a company that publishes books that relate to my church, but trust me, it'll be good advice for everyone anyway.  Lately, the leaders of my church have been talking a lot about how young people don't date, but need to, so I thought I'd strike while the iron was hot.

I feel like there is so much to tell, but can't decide what should be on this new post back, and what can wait.  The baby is doing fine (as stated before).  It's due near the end of June, so it'll only be a few weeks from now and I'll be a daddy.  I'm pretty nervous, but it should be good.  I'm really excited to be writing full time... for myself.  Some other people applied for the job, but my boss (me) said that I was willing to work for the cheapest (free until my book gets published).  Really, I just set out some clear goals for myself to make sure that I'm getting closer everyday to obtaining the goal of sending the manuscript in by the end of the summer.  It'll probably be sooner though, I don't plan on it being long.

Apologies to all of you for not reading your blogs.  Again, I had no time during finals, and really tried to pretend I was on a complete vacation for the past week.  I won't catch up, but part of my job is reading, and I'll include your work in it.  If there's anything especially good, let me know in the comments and I'll do my best to read the work you're most proud of (I know I like my best stuff to get read a lot anyway).

To be honest, I don't have much more to say right now, and I was up late last night because my brain wouldn't shut off about the stuff I wanted to put in my book.  So for the moment, I'll say that I'm done for the day, but will continue tomorrow, starting with the two awards I received in my absence.  Remember that life is awesome, and I'll see you tomorrow.

Have a nice day.