Talkaholics Anonymous

BFF Kristen Bell

2012-02-01T21:31:00.002-07:00

My wife introduced me to Kristen Bell when she played Veronica Mars on the TV show of the same name.

Both of us loved her and the character she played so much that we are willing to watch almost any movie or TV show with her in it.

Her interview on the The Ellen DeGeneres Show had us in stitches, and we are convinced that if she ever got to know us that my wife and I would be her instant BFFs.

(Because we are so unbelievably awesome. Obviously.)

If you haven't seen the interview, please watch the following video.

(And if you don't like her, you have no soul.)

Train Wreck

2011-08-26T18:20:00.003-06:00

My nephew just sent me this video saying that it was funnier than it was probably supposed to be.

It reminded me of this video. I'm trying to find words to describe it, and none come close.

Train wreck?

Awesomely bad?

A comedy of errors?

Yeah, nothing is strong enough.

Enjoy!

Nathan vs. the Little Giant

2011-08-25T18:29:00.003-06:00

My parents have officially moved to Utah. Have I said that already?

The other day, I was helping them hang pictures, and I had to hang one at the top of a stairwell. As tall and thin as I am, it was pretty much impossible to do without an extension ladder.

Since my parents don't own one, I skipped over to the neighbor's to borrow theirs.

The wife said they had a Little Giant and took me into the garage to get it.

(Tangent)
This was my first encounter with a Little Giant. I thought it was going to be awesome to use such a versatile ladder. I had no idea it would weigh 485 lbs.

... And that one small fact is the source of my shame.
(End Tangent)

It was mounted on a couple hooks and tucked in a corner right in front of their family suburban. I walked up to the ladder without any real concerns and heaved upward.

It didn't budge.

As my face slowly turned a beautiful shade of crimson, I adjusted and heaved upward again.

I think it shifted about an inch.

As I tried to deny my defeat and try again, the wife shyly said, "Oh, my husband can get it down."

Yes. I know I don't have an ounce of muscle mass.

Yes. I know most 5-year-old girls can beat me in an arm wrestle.

On my third attempt, I managed to get it off the hooks and onto the ground. It was touch and go there for a minute as I almost staggered backward into their suburban, but I managed to avoid any lasting property damage.

As I stumbled away under the weight of the heaviest ladder ever made, she asked if I'd like her son to help me.

Trying to recover the last vestiges of my pride, I told her I was fine and made it back to my parent's house. It wasn't until I got there that I saw the bruise.

Little Giant: 1
Nathan: 0

Film Crews and Mortification

2011-08-11T08:24:00.002-06:00

My sister-in-law just got a nice check for letting a popular TV show film a scene on her doorstep.

A few months ago, she heard a knock at the door and found a guy who wanted to know what her interest would be in letting her house be the scene in an upcoming episode. They own a cute little green New England style home in California with white trim. At first she was a little hesitant, but once they mentioned compensation, she jumped at it.

(Tangent)
And wouldn't we all jump at the chance to get paid just for picking the right house and enslaving ourselves to a mortgage?
(End Tangent)

I should mention that this sister-in-law has four children under the age of six (within five years of each other), including a set of twins. Needless to say, she is a busy woman and life can get pretty crazy.

When the guy came back to draw up the contract (specifying what the crew is allowed to do and where they are allowed to film), my sister-in-law nervously started mentioning that if they needed to plant any flowers in the yard or if they needed to spray paint the lawn green, she would be just fine with that.

The guy sort of shrugged and made a vaguely affirmative grunt.

When the fateful day came, my sister-in-law, brother and their kids were away on vacation, so her brother was on site to represent the homeowners.

The TV crews arrived along with the actors. At one point, my sister-in-law got a phone call from her brother.

He said, "Yeah, I don't think you need to worry about planting flowers or spray painting the lawn. It's a white trash scene."

My sister-in-law was mortified and suddenly extremely grateful she was anywhere but her house.

Later, her brother mentioned that when they saw the couch in the living room (which has more than a few rips in the fabric), the crew enthusiastically said, "Oh! We should put that out on the porch. It would look perfect."

Personally, I can't wait to see the episode.

Walmart

2011-08-05T12:09:00.002-06:00

Yesterday, I was walking out of Walmart when I noticed a guy vigorously scrubbing his underarms with the disinfectant wipes they supply to clean the handle bars of the carts.

I used to say that if you want to get an accurate snapshot of humanity in all its forms, the best place to go is the DMV.

I think Walmart might be a close second.

And regarding the nice gentleman attempting good hygiene? At least he gave it the old college try.

Next week = Death and Mayhem

2011-07-08T09:41:00.004-06:00

So ... I'm in a masters program right now, which I'm doing on the side of my full-time job.

I'm currently enrolled in a class with weekly deadlines, and next week I'll start an intensive class taught all day, every day of the week.

I hear it is horrible with major class work during the day and then a nightly paper before getting up and doing it all again.

But since I seem to love doing stupid things, I figure this isn't anything out of the ordinary.

So, hopefully I don't die.

Fingers crossed.

Special Agent Nathan

2011-06-29T09:43:00.000-06:00

Last night, I was on the phone with my sister, and I missed a call from my brother.

(Tangent)
This is the popular brother with all the nieces and nephews. He scuba dives, he got certified to sky dive, and he used to work for the Secret Service. Now he works for another government agency.

Anytime he's around, all the kids want to see his gun or his badge, while all I have to offer is my business card or the report I just edited.
(End Tangent)

When I called him back, he said he already got what he needed.

It turns out he is tracking a pedophile who fled authorities in Utah and is currently hiding out in California. They have his cell number, and they are going to find him by getting his location from it, but first he had to find out if it was still active. He wanted someone with a Utah number to call him, pretending to have called a wrong number. Before I called him back, he found someone to do it for him.

I was THIS CLOSE to having a part in a covert op.

THIS. CLOSE.

The Perfect Day

2011-06-08T16:29:00.004-06:00

Do you remember My Big, Fat, Greek Wedding?

(Tangent)
I love that movie for many reasons, but one of them is how similar it is to my family and my in-laws. My family is falling out all over the place with too much noise and everyone talking over each other. When we go to my wife's family, it is nice and quiet, and I can actually get a little reading done.
(End Tangent)

Do you remember the scene when she is finally working in the travel agency and happy, peppy music is playing in the background and she's spinning around in her chair, filing documents, making reservations, and using all the military terms for repeating letters (Alpha, Charlie, etc.)?

That is me today. It all started with hearing Good Life by One Republic on the way into work this morning.

All day, I've had a breezy attitude thanks to the vibe of the chorus, and all my appointments have been with students who have been doing what they should and getting good grades because of it.

Now I'm just waiting for the moment when (metaphorically speaking) I get up from my chair and get whiplash because I'm still attached to my headset.

(That was a poor excuse for a segue back to My Big, Fat, Greek Wedding, for the majority of you who probably couldn't read my mind.)

Pockets: A girl's best friend

2011-06-06T14:31:00.004-06:00

My daughter has a thing for pockets recently. If we go somewhere, she has to stuff half her bedroom into her pockets.

Well ...

The other day, she wanted to wear the following dress:

Do you notice a problem?

Yep. No pockets.

But that doesn't stop someone like my daughter.

She discovered a handy place to stuff all her junk.

Can you guess where it is?

(scroll down)

That's right. All afternoon my daughter waltzed around the house looking ... mature for her age.

Fortunately, she was oblivious about what she looked like with the extra ... padding.

I can't even do this with my hands.

2011-06-03T13:24:00.000-06:00

Unstoppable

2011-06-01T08:37:00.000-06:00

You know that movie Unstoppable?

It's about the train that won't stop.

Yeah, it sounded boring to me too.

I heard it was about colliding trains, and I thought, "Great, a two-hour movie about a 5th grade word problem."

At 7:30 a.m., an express train traveling at 60 miles per hour leaves Santa Fe bound for Phoenix, 520 miles away. At the same time, a local train traveling 30 miles an hour carrying 40 passengers leaves Phoenix bound for Santa Fe ...

Well, my wife and I watched it the other night, and I have to admit ...

... 5th grade word problems are more intense than I thought.

Stunted Development

2011-05-30T08:45:00.000-06:00

When I was 11 years old, my parents moved to Utah for 3 years, which really did a number on my friend quotient.

This is one example of what happens when a tween has too much time on his hands. For more stories, go here, here, here, here, here, here or here.

Having no friends during the "tween" years can be risky. It means there is no one around to tell you to stop wearing a cape or to put the LEGOs into storage.

The term "late bloomer" doesn't even begin to cover it, and I can only hope that the photographic and video evidence of this time period is at a minimum.

One example is my miniature replica of the U.S.S. Enterprise from Star Trek. I got it for Christmas, and this sucker is about 1 1/2 feet long and has buttons on it to make photon and warp speed sounds.

Yeah, pretty much awesome.

Anyway, despite what is socially appropriate for a kid my age, I spent months flying that thing around my house, pretending to shoot all the figurines and books lying around on the shelves.

The best thing that could have happened would have been for someone to snap it in half. However, I recently went through some personal history boxes and discovered my old, trusty U.S.S. Enterprise.

Is it bad that I had the distinct urge to pull it out and start flying it around again?

Fathers and Sons

2011-05-26T10:30:00.002-06:00

For those of you who don't know, the LDS church has a yearly tradition where fathers and their sons go camping overnight to commemorate the restoration of the priesthood. It usually involves scorched pancakes and runny eggs for breakfast and all the other typical camping shenanigans.

For several years, I've gloried in the fact that I don't have any sons and am therefore exempt from attending.

(Tangent)
It's not that I hate camping. I actually enjoy it.

But there is nothing fun about cowering by yourself in your tent while a bunch of 8 year olds run around shooting stuff with BB guns and the rest of the camp applies war paint to their faces to prove their masculinity in a rousing game of capture the flag.

In moments like that, I can't help seeing "Lord of the Flies" references.
(End Tangent)

Well, this year, our bishop (the local leader of our congregation), decided to be funny and put me in charge of breakfast.

As a result, I had no choice but to fill the back of my truck to bursting with pancake mix, syrup, eggs and juice and trek up the canyon.

While it wasn't the most painful experience of my life, I will say that it was just a little awkward to be all by myself and still have the biggest tent of the whole group. It's the only one we own, and we got it so we could camp as a family with enough room for whatever we would need.

I kept joking that I should have brought a flatscreen, a Wii and a generator.

... maybe next year.

Kids say the darndest things

2011-05-24T18:40:00.002-06:00

I can only imagine the number of mispronounced words I said as a kid. I'm betting my parents have a whole list hidden in a safe deposit box, just waiting for the day when they can bring it out to achieve maximum embarrassment.

Unfortunately, I don't have the patience to set up the same goldmine because I just heard the best one ever come out of my daughter's mouth and I can't help but post it for all the world to see.

This afternoon, I brought the mail home, and in the pile was the newest Friend magazine.

Immediately, she yelled:

"My fagazine, my fagazine!"

Best. Day. Ever.

Frilly Scarves

2011-05-05T08:42:00.000-06:00

Did I miss something?

Since when could men wear frilly scarves without the risk of getting an atomic wedgie or their head shoved in a toilet?

If I'd worn one of these, I wouldn't have made it through junior high.

And yet, I keep seeing these everywhere on campus.

Don't poop your pants ...

2011-04-20T08:53:00.003-06:00

This blogger posted the following video and I had to steal it.

My niece and brother-in-law just ran a marathon over the weekend, and I'm betting most of this went through their head at some point.

I, myself, have never run more than half a mile and don't plan to unless I'm chased by a bear. And even then, I might try out that fetal position trick instead (that's how much I hate running).

In any case, I'll never know what running 26.2 miles is like, but this video gives me a little insight:

This makes me happy

2011-04-18T08:11:00.000-06:00

So ... I know the lyrics mention "we're going at it tonight," which probably isn't the most wholesome message, but I can't help smiling when I hear this song.

I think it's the beat that yanks me into a good mood, despite all the horrible drivers on the road.

A little advice.

2011-04-15T08:14:00.001-06:00

The next time you have a major surgery and you get out of the hospital and your parents ask which fast food restaurant you want to stop at on the way home and the closest one is Burger King so you tell them to go there and you walk inside and you can see flies buzzing around everywhere and the guy behind the counter looks like he hasn't had a shower in months and probably doesn't even remember what a shower is and the people "making" the food look like they would rather be out pulling the wings off of butterflies ...

DON'T EAT THERE.

I didn't get that memo, and I spent the next two days throwing up (which probably did a number on the work done by the doctor).

My Surgery

2011-04-13T08:00:00.003-06:00

But first a little background.

When I was 14, I had a weird surgery.

The cartilage in my rib cage was ... extra productive, and it grew WAY to long. The pressure built up (unbeknownst to me) until I got thrown from a horse, at which point it began to buckle inward and push on my lung.

The fancy name for this is pectus excavatum.

(Tangent)
I'm convinced that doctors purposefully come up with random, convoluted names for things, mostly so they can sound smarter than the rest of us.

And it works.
(End Tangent)

In the hospital, the prep video they showed me the night before was for an open-heart surgery (since they didn't have a pectus excavatum surgery video). The doctor said the only difference is that they weren't going to lift my heart out of the chest cavity.

I spent a week of recovery in the hospital eating Jello.

(Tangent)
My first solid food was toward the end of the week, and even though the noodles tasted like soap, it was STILL heaven on earth.
(End Tangent)

Everything is fine now, but the doctor neglected to tell me one minor detail.

For the rest of my life, I'll have a numb spot about the size of a dinner plate on my chest. Granted, I still would have gone through with it had I known, but it was an unsettling feeling to realize I could no longer feel anything there.

I'm the Mommy

2011-04-11T08:44:00.000-06:00

My daughter likes to pretend.

A lot.

Practically every waking minute is spent pretending to be jellyfish or unicorns or She-Ra.

One day, she decided to give us a little role reversal. First, she told my wife that she was the daddy. So, my wife tried to deepen her voice and increase the frequency of cool and leaving off the "g" in -ing words in her vocabulary. Then my daughter turned to me and said, "Daddy? You're the mommy." Since I already have a high voice, it wasn't much of a stretch. So I tried to act sweet and nice and completely enthusiastic about everything she did.

A few minutes later, I took her on an errand to a store. All the way there, she kept saying things like:

"Mommy, are we going to the store?"
"I like your hair, mommy."
"Mommy, will you read me a story?"

This was all fine until we pulled into the parking lot and I realized the disastrous effect her little game could have once we were in public. So, I told her, "Ok, when we get into the store, I'm not mommy anymore. I'm daddy."

Fortunately, she picked those 30 seconds of the day to listen and actually got the message.

I can only imagine the looks I'd get if she kept referring to me as the woman of the relationship.

Stunted Development

2011-03-30T08:45:00.001-06:00

When I was 11 years old, my parents moved to Utah for 3 years, which really did a number on my friend quotient.

This is one example of what happens when a tween has too much time on his hands. For more stories, go here, here, here, here, here or here.

So, what does a boy do when he's bored out of his mind and completely friendless?

That's when he turns to his nephews and nieces. Fortunately, I had a gaggle of them living about an hour away, and their mother was willing to bring them up for visits. When I knew they were coming, all my creative juices would spring into action. While there were many more examples of crazy hyperactivity on my part, here are the highlights:

Creating a "haunted house" in our basement, complete with spinning flashlights, rooms strung with toilet paper and "eyeballs" and "brains" lurking in the double sinks of one of the bathrooms.
Hosting a bike parade on July 4, complete with streamers and flags to decorate the bikes.
Organizing a drive-in movie. This was the most cumbersome, because I had to collect boxes they could decorate and use as cars. We had duct tape parking stalls, an admissions booth with a ticket collector, play money and a snack bar.

I think they had fun, but I'm mostly impressed with my mother who let me routinely tear apart the house for each of these ... productions.

Living in a Dictatorship

2011-03-28T08:32:00.000-06:00

Sometimes I wonder who is really in charge in my house. I like to think that my wife and I are the ones making the decisions, but every once in a while, I start to second guess myself.

My daughter has started asking us our opinions:

"Mommy, Daddy? What's your favorite color?"
"Mommy, Daddy? Which crayon do you want?"
"Mommy, Daddy? Should I wear my pink shoes or my brown shoes?"
"Mommy, Daddy? Should I watch Dora or Sleeping Beauty?"

While I'm indifferent to these questions (except for the last one, which I will always emphatically resist Dora), no matter what answer I give, the response is always the same:

"No, you like yellow."
"No, you want the green one."
"No, I should wear the brown ones."
"No, I should watch Dora." (cringe)

In a small way, it's kind of cute to watch her exert complete control over her little tiny world.

Of course, it also makes me worried we're raising the next political dictator.

In my (not so) new job ...

2011-03-25T08:21:00.000-06:00

First, I have to tell you how much I love my new job. Not to rub it in anyone's face, but it is astonishingly fulfilling.

As an advisor at the local university, waiting for an appointment to arrive is a little like waiting for a blind date.

I feel like I'm sitting at a table with a red rose nestled in a copy of "Pride and Prejudice" or waiting at a park bench with a yellow ribbon in my hair.

(Tangent)
Aren't you proud of the subtle reference to "You've Got Mail" I just made? I'm hoping this establishes me as a sensitively masculine guy rather than a pansy.
(End Tangent)

When the student doesn't show up, I can't help but feel just a little bit rejected.

Still, my total number of "kept" appointments currently outnumbers my number of "no-show" appointments, so I don't feel like a complete and utter waste of space.

... yet.

Stunted Development

2011-03-23T08:33:00.000-06:00

When I was 11 years old, my parents moved to Utah for 3 years, which really did a number on my friend quotient.

This is one example of what happens when a tween has too much time on his hands. For more stories, go here, here, here, here or here.

I don't know of a single kid who doesn't love a good cape. Strapping on a cape makes a kid feel invincible, even if the rest of him is dressed in footsie pajamas.

Well, I don't want to spawn a rash of jealousy, but I had the BEST CAPE EVER when I was little. It was made of some kind of satin material, so it billowed perfectly in the wind. It was wide enough, that I could stretch it out to both sides with plenty of room for it to swirl and swish. And, it was luxuriously long.

I still have nostalgic memories of strapping that thing on and running around the backyard. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear I flew a couple times.

The only problem?

I brought it with me to Utah.

As a result, it became my security blanket when I had no one to play with. I'd spend hours in the back yard, whooshing and twirling, fighting imaginary bad guys ... and I was 11 years old.

Years later, as I type it out, it stings just a little.

Part of me wishes someone had exercised a little tough love and ripped it off my neck. And yet, another part of me is glad they let me have my imagination for as long as I did.

But I still cringe when I think how many adults must have seen me glide and pirouette like a moron.

My New Best Friend

2011-03-21T08:26:00.002-06:00

I have a new best friend.

I call him Floyd, and he seems to go everywhere with me.

As cool as he is, when we walk into a room together, no one seems to notice me anymore because they're too busy staring at him.

I discovered Floyd a couple nights ago when my lower lip started to feel tender on the left side.

Now Floyd has blossomed into one of the biggest zits I've had in a long time.

I don't know how long he'll be with me, but he is going to be unforgettable.

You would think that now that I'm 30, the Floyd's of the world would leave me in peace.

Evidently not.

BFFs!

Wide Range of Emotions

2011-03-18T08:17:00.000-06:00

A friend at work showed this video to me. This kid goes through the full range of emotions in a matter of seconds, not unlike my daughter, the little drama queen.

Garth and Kat - IRL

2011-03-16T08:17:00.002-06:00

Have you seen Garth and Kat on Saturday Night Live?

I love watching Kristen Wiig try to guess what Fred Armisen is about to say.

Well ...

Last week I had an "In Real Life" Garth and Kat moment. I was driving with my daugher, singing every song I could think of with her, when she said she wanted to sing a song about the horse in the ocean.

Um ... ???

I told her I didn't know that one, so she said she would sing it for me. She proceeded to belt out a song about a horse falling into the ocean with a whole lot of other randomness thrown in.

Then she said, "Now it's your turn to sing it with me, daddy."

And off we went, my daughter doing her best Garth impression with me tripping all over myself trying to keep up.

As near as I can remember, here is how it went:

There was a hoooorrrrsssseee
Who fell in the ooooccceannnnn
He fell down and doooooowwwwnnnnnn
Into the oooooccceeeeeaaaannnn
It was daaarrrrrrrrkkkkkk
And we tried to find hhhhiiiiiiimmmmm
The horse was in the ooooocccceeeeeaaannnnnn
And when we found hhhhhhiiiiimmmm
We said we would keep him sssssaaaaaaffffffeeeee

I'm copyrighting these lyrics, so don't even think of trying to get it on the radio. I'm betting this will top the Billboard charts sometime next year.

Encore to Turning 30

2011-03-14T08:29:00.000-06:00

You may ask, "Nathan, what is the perfect gift for someone turning 30?"

Well, I can't answer that.

Instead, I can tell you what I got.

For the purposes of scientific analysis, I will divide the gifts into groups.

Good: Lots of chocolate, slacks and a dress shirt

Mildly Inappropriate (but still hilarious): Prunes and Depends for Women (because I get "ma'am-ed" all the time)

The last ones were given to me by my neighbors. He gave me the prunes and she gave me the Depends. She used to be my boss when I was a student, and I have to admit that I gave her the same package of Depends when she turned 40.

So, if anyone invites me to a white elephant gift exchange in the near future, you'll probably be able to guess what's lurking in the shiny, wrapped box under my arm.

I am now 30.

2011-03-11T08:22:00.000-07:00

... and it doesn't feel any different than 29.

Except I keep feeling the need to run around quoting Pinocchio.

"I'm a real boy!"

It feels like 30 is the official gateway into adulthood, and normally, I would get excited and think that now people will finally take me seriously.

But I don't think that will ever be possible.

Disneyland

2011-03-09T08:57:00.000-07:00

A couple weeks ago, we took our daughter to Disneyland.

We scheduled out day at Disneyland on the Friday before President's Day, and that just happened to be the one weekend of the year in Southern California when it decided to rain almost the entire time.

(Tangent)
The next time you take a vacation, ask which weekend I would choose and then DON'T go that weekend.

I have an uncanny ability to summon bad weather whenever I want to do something outdoors.

But hey, at least I can add "controlling the weather" to my list of possible super powers.
(End Tangent)

Despite the rain, it was absolutely magical (and I'm not just being cheesy in the hopes that Disneyland will read this and cough up a couple free passes for next year).

I could go on and on all day, but I only have time for one comment about the Disney princesses.

A miracle occurred that day, and I don't think any of them were aware of the profound experience they got to witness.

On that day, the 18th day of February in the year 2011, the sight of Cinderella, Snow White and Ariel left my daughter speechless.

Just let that sink in for a moment. The daughter (who takes after me in the chatty department) was speechless.

Disneyland really is the place "Where Dreams Come True."

There is also something special about a location where my daughter insists we all dance to the music down Main Street.

It was a perfect day, and it was wonderful to watch a little girl discover such a magical place for the first time.

Temple Grandin

2011-03-07T08:51:00.001-07:00

I just saw the movie Temple Grandin.

For anyone familiar with Autism or Aspergers, it is a must see.

It is a true story, and it was amazing to see how much she overcame, both in dealing with Autism and in leaving her mark on the cattle industry.

And for all those people convinced that Claire Danes is a bad actress, all I have to do is point at this movie. She was amazing and captured Temple Grandin perfectly.

A Request

2011-03-06T14:24:00.002-07:00

There is a friend of mine who is pregnant and currently on bedrest. She can't get up to do more than take a quick shower, and as a result, she is EXTREMELY bored.

... so much so that she has burrowed through my entire blog history and read every post.

Can you believe the dedication that takes? I can't even fathom how painful it must be to overdose on the ramblings of Nathan's mind.

The fact that she is still coherent probably means she has an industrial strength brain and should be studied by neuroscientists.

Obviously, she is testing her mental limits because she just sent me an email requesting more posts.

So, Jessie, because you asked and because it breaks my heart to think that you are bored enough to WANT to read this drivel, I'm going to make a greater attempt to increase my blogging regularity.

Think of your email as my blog Metamucil (despite the horrible mental image that phrase just conjured for me).

Pretty Much Awesome

2011-02-08T17:04:00.003-07:00

I know it has been a while since I've blogged, but I can't apologize when I'm having so much fun at my job.

However, here is a song/singer that I think I really like.

She also sings this song that I keep playing on repeat.

I think I know where she gets it ...

2011-01-14T13:04:00.002-07:00

By now you all know I'm a spaz.

Evidently, my genetics in this area are pretty strong because my daughter is following gloriously in my footsteps.

My wife and I just barely started her in dance classes.

(Tangent)
This is mainly because when she saw her first example of a dance troupe performance during the holidays, she was MESMERIZED.

I kid you not, her eyes were glued to the stage for at least 30 minutes. That was followed by a slightly breathless request, "Mom, can I do that too?"

Normally, I would say the only time we've seen her hold that still is when she is asleep, but I'd be lying.

Even when she sleeps, she tosses and turns like she's in a wrestling match.
(End Tangent)

Well, her new dance class just had a performance, and we got two free tickets to attend. Using it as a Daddy/Daughter Date opportunity, I took her to the concert.

It was more fun to watch her during the performances. The entire time, she sat on the edge of her seat, giggling excitedly during each dance. When they finished, she would immediately clap as fast as her little hands could handle. Then she'd look at me with these pleading puppy dog eyes and ask, "Is there going to be another one, daddy?"

I'd reassure her that another one would start in just a minute, and when the music kicked in, she would squeal delightedly and grab my arm.

She was more excited about this than when Santa gave her one of those ridiculous unicorn pillow pets for Christmas.

Like I said, she is definitely a spaz, and I'm pretty sure I know where she gets it.

Josh Groban is my new favorite person

2011-01-10T09:33:00.001-07:00

Anyone who does something like this should be named king of the world for a day.

Glorified Monkey

2011-01-06T13:00:00.004-07:00

So, there is a part of my job that involves printing letters to students.

A LOT of letters.

All at once.

On a tight deadline.

These letters are generated at another location and sent to my printer remotely. I have now participated in this process twice, and I can now say with complete authority that every time, something (or multiple somethings) goes wrong.

I will spare you with the details of the comedy of errors that occurred this time (over multiple days) and favor you with my favorite train wreck.

Once I finally got the letters printing, one group kept coming out on two sheets of paper, when it should have fit on one. With more than 1,000 letters shooting out of my printer, I didn't want to be accused of singlehandedly cutting down the entire rain forest, so I tried to cancel the print job and re-run it.

It sounds easy, right?

Unfortunately, because it is sent remotely, the only way to cancel it is to hit the little orange button on my printer. Usually, these particular jobs are sent over in batches. So, pushing the button once cancels an entire group of letters from printing.

But since this is me we're talking about, that didn't happen. The universe always likes to throw me curve-balls, just to see if I'm paying attention.

In this case, all of the letters came over as individual print jobs. That meant that to cancel the 1,000+ letters, I had to hit the cancel button 1,000+ times.

In between each button press, I also had to wait while the printer processed my command. As a result, I spent my afternoon doing the following:

"Press"

... pause ...

"Press"

... pause ...

"Press"

... pause ...

"Press"

I felt like one of those chimpanzees trying to get into the space program at NASA.

Stunted Development

2010-12-28T10:17:00.002-07:00

When I was 11 years old, my parents moved to Utah for 3 years, which really did a number on my friend quotient.

This is one example of what happens when a tween has too much time on his hands. For more stories, go here, here, here or here.

It was Valentine's Day. In elementary school, this was the day to find out just how popular you were. It laid bare the truth of what people thought of you, based on the quantity of Valentine cards and the quality of candy attached.

As a brand new Utahn, I felt a driving need to make a real splash my first year. I knew I was lost in the obscurity of the cliques and carefully arranged social hierarchy.

I also had pretty much every afternoon free from annoying distractions like friends or a social life.

The result?

I decided to make the biggest possible Valentine box. The inspiration came from one of the wardrobe boxes my parents used to move to Utah. Have you ever seen those things? For an 11-year-old kid, it looked like you could fit a whole car inside.

I decided to make one to look like the Tower of Big Ben. I used poster board to make the roof, and after drawing on the clock, I knew it needed a little something extra.

That's when inspiration struck. I decided to make a face and have the mouth be the slot for the cards. I also decided it would "Super Fun" if I used light bulbs for the eyes and nose. Then I could have them flash on and off whenever a card went through the slot. (I used one of those long skinny bulbs for the nose.)

Because I still hadn't brushed up on my electrician skills, the only way I could make the flashing face work is if I was hiding inside the box and flipping the switch each time.

So ...

I got permission from my teacher to come in early from recess to deliver my own Valentines and slip into the box unnoticed. Once all the kids started delivering their own, I had to flip that switch like crazy. It was thrilling to see how many times something came through the slot. I began to daydream about all the popularity I'd achieved with my Big Ben wardrobe box and how I'd be showered with praise once I finally revealed how it worked.

What I didn't know was how the kids kept testing the light bulbs. They were so amazed that they shoved anything they could into the slot: pencils, pens, paperclips, candy wrappers, garbage.

I had an amazing pile of stuff that year, but half of it belonged to the school or had to go right into the trash can.

And for the record, despite their interest in my box, I still wasn't carried around on their shoulders or invited to any after-school parties.

"You too"

2010-12-15T07:33:00.003-07:00

I have this nasty habit of saying stupid things.

I know.

It's a shocker, isn't it?

One of the most common is when I reply with "you too" to someone helping me in a store or some other customer service situation. It just comes flying out of my mouth, even if it is completely inappropriate. It's as if I have a very specific form of Tourette's.

You can guarantee that if someone says any of the following, I will inevitably follow with an enthusiastic "you too!"

"Enjoy your movie."
"Good luck with your interview."
"Enjoy your purchase."

I also have the uncanny ability to say "you're welcome" before anyone has a chance to say "thank you."

It's a gift.

Sinking to a new low

2010-12-06T08:57:00.002-07:00

Those who were around in 2009 may remember my nearly constant problem of getting mistaken for a woman on the phone.

I call it getting "Ma'am-ed."

Well, last week, I hit an all-time low. By now I'm used to hearing "ma'am" all the time, but this time, I called the LDS distribution center.

This is a store where Mormons can pick up Mormony things, like scriptures, hymnbooks, pictures of temples, etc.

I wanted to know if they had a particular book in stock.

(Tangent)
You know when people are really happy and peppy on the phones?

Whenever I'm confronted with someone like this, who probably has a massive sugar high from eating a dozen jelly-filled donuts, I unconsciously try to match their energy level.

My voice inflection becomes like a roller coaster at Disneyland, and my volume rises to the point that I sound like I'm stuck in a wind tunnel.

Well, this lady was EXTREMELY friendly, and I didn't even realize how enthusiastic I had gotten on the phone. I'm surprised the world didn't implode from the joy of our little conversation.

This may or may not have had something to do with what happened next.
(End Tangent)

When she got back on the phone, she said:

"Okay, Sister. It looks like we have several in stock."

Sister.

To fully understand the crippling embarrassment of this word, you have to understand Mormon culture. In the Mormon church, Brother and Sister are used as prefixes, just like Mr. or Mrs.

In the many years I've been getting Ma'am-ed, I've never been Sister-ed.

Now I'm going to go console myself with a dozen jelly-filled donuts.

Nathan's OBGYN Appointment

2010-11-30T14:16:00.002-07:00

Yep, you read that title correctly.

For those of you who don't know, Mormon boys are encouraged to go on missions for the LDS church.

It's actually a pretty cool experience that not only helps the little 19-year-old twerp grow up a little, but it also allows them to share something with others that has brought them a great deal of joy and peace.

Before any of them can go, they have to have physical with a doctor to sign off that they are capable of the rigorous physical activity often required.

I was one of those 19-year-old twerps once. And I had to get a physical just like everyone else.

For the life of me, I can't remember the situation, but for some reason, I had to make a last minute appointment with my brother-in-law's father.

He was an OBGYN.

Needless to say, it was a little awkward going to his house for what could potentially be an unpleasant experience from someone who knows me and my family.

We sat down across from each other in his office, and all he asked was: "So, do you feel healthy?"

I said "Yes," and he checked off the paperwork. He had to take a blood sample or something (I honestly can't remember), which had to be analyzed by a lab, so he asked that I pick up the completed paperwork a few days later at his work.

That day, I wandered into a surprisingly large waiting room filled with women in various states of pregnancy. I told the nurse why I was there, and she asked that I have a seat.

I figured they would do the logical thing and bring the papers to the front desk for me to pick up. That is why I was so flabbergasted when a sweet nurse opened the door to the back and called, "Nathan? ... Nathan?"

As I got up and crossed the room, I could feel the eyes of every women in that waiting room on me. Questions like, "Why is that guy seeing an OBGYN?" or "Is that really a guy?" or "If that is a girl, how can that skinny little thing actually be pregnant?" were probably eating away at them.

Red faced, I went through the door, and she took me back to see the doctor. He was sitting at his desk, and when he saw me, smiled pleasantly and handed me the paperwork.

Are you kidding me? Did I actually have to go through that walk of shame just so you could hand me the paperwork yourself?

To this day, I still think he did it on purpose just for the comedic value. I'm positive I was a popular story at their office Christmas party that year.

... Thanks ... Scooby Doo.

2010-11-22T13:58:00.002-07:00

So, this probably won't be funny to most people, but it is indicative of my daughter.

The other day, my daughter came up to my wife and asked:

"Mommy? Does Jesus fight the Holy Ghost?"

This may baffle most of you (it baffled me when my wife told me), but in context, it makes perfect sense.

My daughter is a huge fan of Scooby Doo right now. HUGE.

Since most of the episodes are of them fighting some type of monster, and since many times it involves some sort of paranormal entity, my daughter has developed a certain contextual association with ghosts.

Now begins the uphill battle of trying to explain that not all "ghosts" are bad.

Best prank ever ... or at least the most devious

2010-11-15T09:22:00.000-07:00

So ... my bishop (that's Mormon-speak for my local church leader) is also a colleague at work. And he has a sense of humor.

On Sunday last week, I got a phone call from him where he announced himself by his official title, which was an immediate clue that something was wrong. When he hesitated a little and told me this phone call was particularly difficult, my nerves nearly forced me to lay an egg. (He probably deserves an Oscar for that performance.) He then told me that it had come to his attention that my daughter had punched another little girl in the face during church. (This is the assault I referenced last week.)

I was mortified.

He went on to explain that he was going to have to address the situation with me and figure out what we were going to do about it.

At this point, mortification wasn't nearly enough of a word to describe how I felt.

Then he started laughing.

It turns out it was all a big joke. My daughter had in fact hit another little girl, but he was playing a prank on me for making it a bigger issue than it was.

... So, I decided to get him back.

I found out that his son had been a little bit of a stinker in elementary school, receiving two action slips last week, one on Monday and one Wednesday. If a student gets five action slips in a school year, they must have a mandatory suspension.

(Tangent)
To be clear, this boy is absolutely adorable. He's not a troubled child, and his parents give him all the love and support he needs.

But as my mom would say, he just likes to march to the beat of his own drummer.
(End Tangent)

So, I got a friend to call from a number that would display as a school district number on my bishop's caller ID, and read the following script:

Hi, is this Mr. Johnson? (Names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent)

This is Sylvia Barnes with Fieldcrest Elementary. I'm calling to let you know that your son, Timmy, received another action slip this morning. I don't know if you are aware of our policy, but if students accrue three action slips in one week, they are required to have a 3-day suspension and must meet with the school social worker.

We tried calling your home, but we weren't able to reach your wife. Timmy is currently in our office, and we will need you to come pick him up.

It worked like a charm. Thankfully, I told his wife last night, because by the time I got to his office, he already had her on the phone, telling her he just got a call from the school district.

Once I told him it was a joke, he burst out laughing while telling me he was going to get me back.

I have two words for him ...

Bring it.

Stunted Development

2010-11-09T09:43:00.001-07:00

When I was 11 years old, my parents moved to Utah for 3 years, which really did a number on my friend quotient.

This is one example of what happens when a tween has too much time on his hands. For more stories, go here, here or here.

If you grow up in the snow, you instinctively know when snow pants are needed and when they will just get in the way. Since I grew up where the lowest temperature was 50 degrees, I was blissfully ignorant by the time we had our first snowfall.

So, when I got ready for school that morning, I pulled out the bin of all the winter gear my mom purchased, intending to find a way to strap all the pieces onto my skinny little body ... because if they sell this stuff, it must be important to wear, right?

(Tangent)
Have any of you seen "A Christmas Story?" That kid who couldn't put his arms down has got nothin' on me. Click here to view (the clip I found won't allow me to embed the video).
(End Tangent)

So, after becoming my own version of the Michelin Man, I headed off to early morning choir practice.

At school, all the little choir geeks had to sardine themselves into the room (I believe they called it a kiva), and started going through warm up scales.

The janitors were a little overzealous with the thermostat settings, and it wasn't long before I felt like we'd all been transported to Egypt. I was roasting in my layers of thermals, sweat pants, jeans and snow pants.

As the practice extended into the eternities, I started to wonder if I hadn't been very good in life and mysteriously died during the night. That would certainly explain the torture I was being subjected to at this moment.

After I had sweat my own body weight in fluids, they finally dismissed us, where I went to the bathroom and peeled out of the 18 layers, swearing off snow pants for the rest of my natural life.

I'm back ... I think

2010-11-08T10:53:00.000-07:00

It's amazing how student paperwork deadlines (and the weeks afterward with students panicking about missing the deadlines) sucks up all my time.

I feel like my head is still spinning.

The other day, my wife was outside with our daughter, when she went up to my wife and said:

"Mom, I'm a Sleeping Beauty Monster."

My wife immediately thought, "I can't think of a more concise way she could have described herself."

And I agree. That brings her completely opposite personality types into perfect oppositional clarity.

(Tangent)
And since we just received a report that she slugged another kid in nursery at church yesterday, I'm wondering if the Sleeping Beauty part is just that. Sleeping.

Let's just say our daughter is becoming an expert at time outs.
(End Tangent)

How To Article of the Week

2010-10-30T08:03:00.000-06:00

This week: How to Make a Simple Sound Pipe from a Plastic Straw

I can only imagine how this sounds. The alternate title for this one could be: How to Lose Friends and Irritate People.

How To Article of the Week

2010-10-23T09:35:00.002-06:00

This week: 9 Tips for People Watching without Being Creepy

Since it's impossible for me to read a book in an airport (because I always end up people watching for 40 minutes at a time), this would be seriously beneficial for me to read.

Deadlines and Drama

2010-10-22T09:48:00.002-06:00

It's amazing what happens to this blog when I have giant deadlines at work and midterms for my first graduate class.

(crickets)

Hopefully it will calm down by next week.

Men and Women: Mars and Venus

2010-10-18T10:26:00.000-06:00

Recently, my wife got a book as a gift from her sister-in-law. She finished it, so it is my turn to read it.

This morning, I read a paragraph that made me laugh, and for all the men out there, I feel the need to post it here. It's from Enchantment by Orson Scott Card.

Disclaimer: This is not how I feel about my conversations with my own wife ... (Love you, dear!)

"Maybe she'd tell him what this message meant. Though, more than likely, Mother would simply go enigmatic on him, give him one of her inscrutable smiles and tell him that if he didn't already understand, he never would. Women always said things like that, and it made him crazy. It's as if every conversation with a woman was a test, and men always failed it, because they always lacked the key to the code and so they never quite understood what the conversation was really about."

I immediately had visions of spies trying to decipher encrypted messages without a codec.

So, to all the men out there, be careful. It's a war zone.

How To Article of the Week

2010-10-16T09:04:00.000-06:00

This week: How to Save a Wet Cell Phone

I have severe toilet issues, so I don't know what would happen if I ever dropped a phone in the toilet.

I'd probably just move.

Too Much Love

2010-10-15T10:46:00.002-06:00

At my previous job, I had a good friend who was also a client. We talked on the phone regularly.

One day, I was in a particular hurry with a project, and he called to discuss. As we were wrapping up, I was affirming answers to his questions while simultaneously drafting an email.

(Tangent)
At this point, you should be seeing red flashing lights and hearing a loud buzzer with a computerized voice yelling, "Danger! Danger!"

I've never been the most gifted at doing two things at once. When I write a paper for school while watching TV, I inevitably start quoting the cast members in my homework.
(End Tangent)

We were just wrapping up, when the following came spilling out of my mouth:

"Yep ... K ... Sounds good ... Yep ... Ok ... K, Love you, bye."

How's that for professional?

I should write a book or something, so I can gain my rightful place as the Miss Manners of the business world.

The guy was really good natured about it, which was a double-edged sword. On the one hand, he quickly forgave me. On the other, I had to deal with months and months and months of emails and phone calls from him where he would always say:

"Love you too."

That's just a little too much love spreading around for my taste.

Encore: Extrovert with a Capital E

2010-10-12T11:35:00.002-06:00

You know how I'm an extrovert? With a capital E?

I found out from my neighbor (a college professor) that he uses me as an example of extreme extraversion in his classes when they take and discuss personality tests.

Evidently, when we first moved into the neighborhood, he and his wife would always be able to tell when I got home from work to find my wife still running errands because I would always call them or drop by with some inane question or random comment.

Now, in order for them to see a pattern, this would have had to occur ... often.

Often.

What's worse, I have no memory of this, and I like to think I'm at least marginally self aware.

I'm thinking of getting a paper bag permanently attached to my head. It would be fitting, since who knows how many other people I keep hounding when (heaven forbid) I have to spend more than 2 minutes by myself.

Lost in the Maze

2010-10-11T07:48:00.002-06:00

Our church building is ... unique.

I think at one point it was a functional/logical building, but those days are a dim memory. It has all the typical features of an Mormon meeting house, the chapel, the gym, the classrooms, the offices for church leadership, and pianos all over the place, but sometime during its long history it got remodeled.

My best guess is that a chimpanzee got a hold of the blueprints.

Now, it's like a rabbit warren, and anytime there new family starts attending, they get completely lost. My wife still has a hard time telling which way is north once she gets into the labyrinth of hallways.

But my favorite part is that whoever drew up the plans forgot one of the hallways. There is a classroom connecting two parts of the building, but if the room is being used, people have to trek outside to get around it. As someone who hates the snow, I'm not looking forward to this winter.

How To Article of the Week

2010-10-09T09:29:00.001-06:00

This week: How to Do Laughter Yoga

I'm sure this is helpful, but the first time I heard of this, I lumped it into the "Oxygen Bar" category.

Extrovert with a Capital E

2010-10-08T09:37:00.002-06:00

We took a personality test in my class, and we just went over the results.

When I opened the packet, the first page had a scale showing how far to one side or the other I scored in the four categories.

One of them was Introvert/Extrovert. When I saw my score, I was just a little embarrassed. I was as far over to the Extrovert side as the test allows.

According to the results, I should be one of those manic spaz-oids on a permanent caffeine high.

But then I thought about it and realized it's probably right.

I spend all day talking to students. When it's time to go home and I'm in the car by myself, what's my first impulse?

Call someone on the phone.

When I get home and my wife and daughter are out running errands, what is my reaction?

"Dang it. I'm by myself."

When my wife and I are in bed reading, what inevitably happens?

My book ends up on my lap while I continue my verbal diarrhea. My wife either makes a noncommittal grunt of acknowledgement every once in a while or she politely sets down her book and smiles at me with a strained expression, waiting for me to finally run out of steam.

I guess the title and subheading of my blog are just as applicable today as they were when I was a kid.

"No, I say it by myself"

2010-10-06T11:18:00.003-06:00

That is what my daughter told me this morning when I tried to help her with prayers.

She has developed an independent streak recently, and for those of you who know her, you may find this laughable.

"But Nathan, she was already stubborn/independent/bullheaded/insert-your-own-word-here."

Yes. I know.

We thought her previous "tude" was as pronounced as it was going to get. Evidently, the universe wanted to show us just how wrong we were (which seems to be a common theme in my life).

Needless to say, I wondered how well this prayer would go and how soon it would degrade into a monologue about her favorite toys and her current duties as a princess/queen/prince/mommy/dragon/monkey/frog/insert-make-believe-character-here.

Instead, we were pleasantly surprised when she rattled this puppy off:

"Dear Heavenly Father,

Grateful ah Food,

Grateful ah Dresses,

Grateful ah Shirts,

Healthy and Strong,

Grateful ah Rainbows,

No Kitties,

Grateful to color the knight, the elephant princess, the king, and the zebra queen,

In the name of Jesus Christ, amen."

(The reference to coloring has to do with some wood cutouts my wife got at the store for 49 cents. They are a hippopotamus knight, an elephant princess, a lion king and a zebra queen. Don't ask. Just nod and smile.)

Mustaches and Skinny Jeans

2010-10-05T08:52:00.000-06:00

Evidently, I have missed another memo.

After spending a few weeks on campus, I've noticed a much higher percentage of mustaches going past me in the halls. Most of the ones I've seen around here are scraggly ones that are either completely uneven or not full enough to constitute more than peach fuzz.

Now, don't get me wrong, I have a good friend who's dad has a mustache and he looks just great. There are a few people (i.e. Tom Selleck) who can pull one off, but for the majority, it looks like one of those fuzzy caterpillars crawled up and took a nap on the guy's upper lip.

When I asked a kid who is completely up to date on current fashion, he told me it was more than a local thing. Mustaches are coming back everywhere, right along with skinny jeans.

Thinking about this is about as soothing as staring at this picture:

You're welcome.

How To Article of the Week

2010-10-02T09:07:00.000-06:00

This week: How to Sew an Elephant Cushion

... because I've always been wondering how to make an elephant head cushion.

If only I had this kind of creativity

2010-10-01T08:21:00.000-06:00

I recently discovered an artist named Kumi Yamashita. She does all kinds of stuff, but she works a bunch with creating artistic shadows.

Go here and click on "Selected Work" for more examples (and be sure to read the descriptions of each one to see what materials she used (i.e. military boot prints to create portraits).

Stunted Development

2010-09-30T09:07:00.000-06:00

When I was 11 years old, my parents moved to Utah for 3 years, which really did a number on my friend quotient.

This is one example of what happens when a tween has too much time on his hands. For more stories, go here or here.

It was my first winter in Utah. My first winter with the chance of snow. My first winter dealing with temperatures below 50 degrees.

Watching snow fall for the first time outside made me feel like I'd accidentally chugged a bottle of cooking alcohol. I couldn't stop running around the house, looking out through all the windows. Finally, I yanked on my black sweatpants, which I stylishly paired with my black sweatshirt and accessorized with the trendy moon boots my mom bought for me at K-Mart.

(Tangent)
Let's just say that there are pictures of this fashion crime against humanity, and they will never see the light of day. EVER.
(End Tangent)

Then, I bounded outside into the snow, armed with a shiny new snow shovel. After my mom burned through a couple rolls of film, documenting my embarrassing wardrobe choices for posterity, I got to work.

... And the fun lasted for about 5 minutes.

Once the snow started to melt on me and soak into my remarkably absorbing ensemble, I got pretty miserable and had to head back inside ... with the walkway only half finished.

This was the beginning and the end of my love affair with snow. However, it was not the end of my poor cold weather fashion choices ... (Was that foreshadowing? Maybe I should write a book or something.)

Head Scratching Compliment

2010-09-29T08:30:00.001-06:00

The other day, my wife and I were talking about how many people say our daughter is pretty. These comments happen regularly and are usually sparked by her curly hair.

Below is the joke I made and my wife's response:

Nathan: ... But, she could still turn out like this (Doing my best "The Price is Right" impression to display my face).

Wife: No, you would make a pretty girl.

Nathan: Um ... thank you?

But seriously, I'm just glad my daughter takes after her mother in the looks department. It's going to make her life much easier.

Guaranteed Entertainment

2010-09-27T09:15:00.001-06:00

I'm completely impressed by the music videos for OK Go.

How To Article of the Week

2010-09-25T09:11:00.001-06:00

This week: How to Build a Simple Wood Truss

I don't think words like "simple" and "wood truss" should ever be in the same sentence.

Real Life Super Powers

2010-09-23T09:26:00.000-06:00

I'm jealous.

One of my old co-workers has a wife with an astounding super power. He told me about it, and I would normally have immediately assumed he was lying. But this kid makes Mother Teresa look like she had a shady past. So, I have no choice but to believe him.

Which means I'm jealous. (And with that jealousy, let's just be glad I didn't compare him to me and stuck with Mother Teresa.)

His wife has a super powered nose. She can smell when ants are in her house. She can also smell when people are getting sick.

Are you kidding me?!? How cool would it be to be able to go around telling people that they are about to get sick?

When all you sing is a D ...

2010-09-22T08:58:00.000-06:00

Carrot Jello posted this video, and I had to steal it.

My wife and I have a running joke that in our hymn book, the alto's favorite note is the D above middle C.

The tenor line is usually better, but it's been known to get stuck on the G.

Stunted Development

2010-09-21T08:53:00.003-06:00

When I was 11 years old, my parents moved to Utah for 3 years, which really did a number on my friend quotient.

This is one example of what happens when a tween has too much time on his hands. For more stories, go here.

When I got to Utah, I was in the final year of elementary school (6th grade), and my social studies teacher had a unit on the medieval period. We had all kinds of projects, and one of them was to draw a picture of a medieval castle.

I went home fully expecting to dazzle her with my crayon skills, but when I got done with the picture, it was only 3:30 p.m. and I found myself facing 6 hours of either watching paint dry or playing Skip-Bo with my parents.

In an effort to fill the void, I decided I wouldn't just settle for a drawing of a castle. I would make one out of sugar cubes. My mom (the saint that she is) went to the store last minute and cleaned them out of every box of sugar cubes they had. She also had to load up on Elmer's glue.

Once I had all the supplies, I got to work, and 5 hours later, I had a file box sized replica of a medieval castle.

But I didn't stop there. Then came the accessorizing.

I dragged out my LEGOs and set the stage for an epic medieval battle on the walls and in the courtyard of my new masterpiece.

I may have even reenacted a few scenes (allegedly).

The next day, I proudly staggered in under the weight of 8,000 sugar cubes, and I seriously don't think my teacher knew what to do with me. I got an A on the assignment, but I'm sure there is a note lurking in my permanent file about how I need some help socializing with the other children.

Hand Tap Dancing

2010-09-20T08:29:00.000-06:00

This video makes me want to find a hand tap dance class.

Thanks to Kate for posting it on her blog.

How To Article of the Week

2010-09-18T09:11:00.000-06:00

This week: How to Use Assure, Ensure and Insure

My mother, the grammar queen, would be thrilled to know I'm taking up her torch.

Easy Listening = Slow Death

2010-09-17T08:52:00.000-06:00

For about three weeks, the speakers in our office ceiling haven't been working.

I've been giddy the entire time.

(Tangent)
Don't get me wrong. I'm a big fan of music, but the only thing that comes through those speakers is easy listening. This wouldn't normally be a problem because I can appreciate all kinds of music. I get that from my mom who loves all kinds of music and even owns an album called (and I'm seriously not kidding about this) Deep Breakfast. One of the songs on the album is affectionately called Celestial Soda Pop.

For those of you bored enough to click on the link ... you're welcome. Your ears will never be the same.
(End Tangent)

Yesterday, the speakers suddenly switched back on, and by the 8th rendition of "Have you ever been in llllooooooovvvvvveeeee?" by Celine Dion, I was about ready to declare martial law in the office and start stringing barbed wire around my door.

When I worked in this office as a student employee, I became convinced that the radio station had a tradition of playing Bette Midler's "Wind Beneath My Wings" every hour on the hour. I kept a tally one day and during my 4 hour shift, I remember hearing it 6 times.

And in case you don't remember some of Bette's finer moments during that song, the parts that made me wish I was tone deaf were when she went sliding slowly into some of her notes toward the end. "Ffflllllllyyyyyyyy! ... Fffllllyyyyyyyy! Fly high up in the sky!"

*shudder*

Pardon me while I go look for a blankie and one of my daughter's old pacifiers. I feel the sudden need to curl up in the fetal position.

Huff and Puff

2010-09-14T11:28:00.002-06:00

My daughter loves when my wife tells her the story of the 3 Little Pigs. In fact, she'll often ask my wife to blow down several of her imaginary houses per hour. This means my wife spends much of her day getting lightheaded and nearly passing out.

"Huff and puff, mom."

Little does my daughter know that her father has started huffing and puffing too.

Now that I have a new job, I've decided to park my car in a lot that is not right near my building. This forces me to get out and walk for a minute before I sit down to my desk.

Being as skinny as I am, I forget how out of shape I am until I have to walk more than 3 feet. I can only imagine how comical I look as I stagger up the last flight of stairs, doubled over and wheezing as if I'd just completed a marathon.

Still, I'm crossing my fingers that someday I'll be able to walk up a hill without feeling like I should have invested in one of those Life Alert necklaces.

How To Article of the Week

2010-09-11T09:31:00.000-06:00

This week: How to Check a Microwave for Leaks ... with your cell phone

I had no idea you could do this, but I think I'm going to try it out.

Insight into Asperger's Syndrome

2010-09-09T09:17:00.000-06:00

I may or may not have mentioned this before, but I have a bunch of nephews and nieces with some form of Asperger's Syndrome or Autism. They are both on the same spectrum, and they are both social disorders. If anyone knows someone with these disorders, you'll probably enjoy this Q&A of a little boy and his mother. This is from Story Corps, which is a group that has placed sound booths in various public places and encouraged people to use them to record anything they want.

Then they put a few into videos and added animation.

Here is the Q&A:

And in case you want to see another one, this one is pretty good too:

Stunted Development

2010-09-07T11:08:00.003-06:00

I grew up in California, but for about three years, I lived in Utah with my parents. These three years were right during those awkward "tween" years (from ages 11 to 14), and I moved into an area where none of the groups of friends wanted to take a chance on a lurpy kid severely lacking in any athletic ability.

So, I spent a lot of time by myself. This was socially dangerous because it was right during the time when kids help each other move beyond pretending, wearing capes and playing with LEGOs. I didn't get the memo that these things were suddenly not that cool anymore, so I had a grand time being a kid for longer than I should have and was probably a major embarrassment to all my older siblings.

The result?

I could fill an encyclopedia with all my embarrassing/stupid stories from this part of my personal history.

(Let's just say that some of them really do involve a cape.)

In the coming weeks, I'll try to relate some of these stories (similar to my other series, "Cult Chronicles" and "Office Outtakes"). These won't be as funny, but I'll put them all under the title, "Stunted Development."

I need a translator

2010-08-30T09:53:00.002-06:00

My daughter usually speaks pretty clearly. Granted she has a few speech impediments that are typical for a 3-year-old:

Negs = Legs

Spwaenet = Bracelet

But in general, she is relatively easily understood.

... until she's on the verge of tears.

This morning, she woke up crying, and when I went into check on her, she said (with crystal clarity): "I want sdfalkmweoinoasd."

Me: "What do you want?"

Her: "I want qoinwoefmzxedn."

Me: "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I don't know what you're saying."

Why is it that tears automatically make kids tongue tied?

How To Article of the Week

2010-08-28T08:37:00.000-06:00

This week: How to Plop Your Hair

I think they need a name change for this method of hairstyling.

Go Tell Aunt Rhody, Dismiss Us with Thy Blessing

2010-08-26T11:00:00.002-06:00

Have you ever noticed that "Lord, Dismiss Us with Thy Blessing" has the same melody line as "Go Tell Aunt Rhody?" (At least it does in the Mormon hymn book)

Every time we sing the former in church, I can't help but think of dead geese.

If you hadn't thought of that before, you're welcome in advance.

How To Article of the Week

2010-08-21T09:05:00.001-06:00

This week: 9 Tips for Making Running More Enjoyable

Tip #1 should be: Don't go running.

Wow.

2010-08-20T12:38:00.000-06:00

This video makes me realize how easy I have it.

Potty Training

2010-08-19T11:29:00.002-06:00

News: My daughter has been completely uninterested in potty training. We finally coaxed her into it by bribery for a good job. Unfortunately this didn't work for "Number 2."

Yesterday, however, I got a call telling me my wife and daughter finally had success.

I'm grateful. I was just about to start looking into the social ramifications of Depends for 18 year olds.

I still feel like I'm floating about an inch off the ground

2010-08-18T11:01:00.004-06:00

The last few weeks have been a new level of crazy. Between shutting down my old job responsibilities and training for my new job responsibilities, I've completely neglected everything that wasn't essential.

However, despite all the craziness, I'm still on Cloud 9.

My job is perfect, and I couldn't be happier.

However, after seeing about 8 iPads in two days, I kind of want to bring my Nerf bow and arrows to work tomorrow so I can take shots at all the students who think they are now superior to everyone else, just because they have a flimsy computer that has a retail price tag exceeding the amount anyone would pay for my own life.

I'm all for people getting cool gadgets. It's when they start to believe it entitles them to super-human status that I start to wonder if they should be taken down a peg.

And the Nerf Avenger might be just the guy to do it ...

The Dirt about My Job Change

2010-08-09T11:10:00.002-06:00

Ok, so here’s the scoop (it’s pretty boring and lacks my usual sarcasm, so feel free to skip this one).

My current job is great. I had a number of clients, and it was always thrilling to help them be successful. I worked for a public relations agency in Provo. One of the things I always appreciated about the company is the work ethic exemplified by the company’s partners. In other agencies, it seems like the main item on partners’ calendars is their golf schedule. In this company, the partners are the busiest people of anyone getting a paycheck.

I also loved (and I mean LOVED) the people I worked with. Over time, these people became like family and my job slowly seeped its way into becoming part of my identity.

But then my neighbor told me about a job at the local university. He currently works in a department where I used to work as a student employee.

I worked there for three years, and I can truthfully say that I felt like skipping to work every morning. When I graduated, I jokingly told my boss that if she could give me a salary and let me work full time that I would stay, even though I knew that was impossible.

When my neighbor told me about this job, the impossible suddenly became possible … even probable.

There were some definite cons to the job (reduced salary, less vacation time, less flexibility regarding work hours or work location, etc.), but there were also a number of pros (getting my masters for free, working in an amazing environment, doing work I never thought my current education would allow, etc.).

In the end, my wife and I prayed about it, and it felt completely right. The peace of that decision washed away all my anxiety about losing part of the identity I’d cultivated for the last four years. Even now, as I stand on the edge of making the flying leap into a major career change, I feel completely calm.

What will I be doing? Academic advising for students on academic probation.

When is my last day at my current job? August 10.

When do I start my new job? August 11.

While I’m sad about what and who I’ll leave behind, I’m a little giddy about what is ahead. Okay, more than a little giddy.

New Job

2010-08-03T08:29:00.002-06:00

So ... I have a new job. Or at least, I will next week.

I'll have more details in a little bit, but right now I'm running around trying to get all my clients transitioned to other employees.

It's crazy, but the bottom line is, I'm thrilled and couldn't be happier with the shift ... although it will be sad to leave my current job behind.

Until I come up for air, it may be a little sparse on here.

How To Article of the Week

2010-07-31T09:16:00.000-06:00

This week: How to Make Sunscreen

Any project that involves putting on a pair of gloves and a face mask is probably not the best idea for me to try out.

Senseless to you, but sacred to me

2010-07-29T09:32:00.000-06:00

Last week, Holly, who has this amazing ability to balance witty humor with thoughtful insight, saw this article and wrote her thoughts about her own sacred places.

(Shamelessly stealing her description of the article)

The article, which you really should read even though I know you probably won't, is about how we all have these specific sacred places that are related to a life-changing memory.

She shared some of her own personal sacred places, and I was so moved, I thought I would share some of mine.

The huge tree in my backyard when I was young that had a perfectly shaped branch for sitting and thinking up near the top.
My upstairs childhood bedroom where I spent a night on my knees, talking with my Maker.
A little house in Atikokan, Ontario where I struggled to figure out how to get some of the most bitter members of the LDS church I'd ever met to cooperate. This was also the house where I felt like the words of my prayers were not only heard but listened to with perfect attention.
The picnic table where I first told my future wife I loved her.
The hospital room where I saw my baby for the first time.

"... Cry Baby ..."

2010-07-28T09:17:00.000-06:00

This video had me in stitches, mainly because I sometimes wish I could do this to someone else.

Read this now ... No, seriously. NOW.

2010-07-27T09:31:00.002-06:00

Katelin over at Blah Blah Blog posted this, and I was literally compelled to steal it and post it over here.

I haven't laughed this hard in a while. Read through the entire thread, but don't scroll too fast or you'll see the pictures early and ruin the surprise.

From: Shannon Walkley
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 9.15am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Poster

Hi
I opened the screen door yesterday and my cat got out and has been missing since then so I was wondering if you are not to busy you could make a poster for me.

It has to be A4 and I will photocopy it and put it around my suburb this afternoon.

SHANNON: This is the only photo of her I have she answers to the name Missy and is black and white about 8 months old. Missing on Harper Street and my phone number.

Thanks, Shan.

DAVID: Dear Shannon,
That is shocking news. Although I have two clients expecting completed work this afternoon, I will, of course, drop everything and do whatever it takes to facilitate the speedy return of Missy.
Regards, David

SHANNON: yeah ok thanks. I know you don't like cats but I am really worried about mine. I have to leave at 1pm today.

DAVID: Dear Shannon,
I never said I don't like cats. Attached poster as requested.
Regards, David

SHANNON: Yeah that's not what I was looking for at all. it looks like a movie and how come the photo of Missy is so small?

DAVID: Dear Shannon,
It's a design thing. The cat is lost in the negative space.
Regards, David

SHANNON: That's just stupid. Can you do it properly please? I am extremely emotional over this and was up all night in tears. you seem to think it is funny. Can you make the photo bigger please and fix the text and do it in colour please. Thanks

DAVID: Having worked with designers for a few years now, I would have assumed you understood, despite our vague suggestions otherwise, we do not welcome constructive criticism. I don't come downstairs and tell you how to send text messages, log onto Facebook and look out the window. I have amended and attached the poster as per your instructions.
Regards, David

SHANNON: This is worse than the other one. can you make it so it shows the whole photo of Missy and delete the stupid text that says missing missy off it? I just want it to say Lost.

DAVID: Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Poster

SHANNON: yeah can you do the poster or not? I just want a photo and the word lost and the telephone number and when and where she was lost and her name. Not like a movie poster or anything stupid. I have to leave early today. If it was your cat I would help you. Thanks.

DAVID: Subject: Awww
Dear Shannon,
I don't have a cat. I once agreed to look after a friend's cat for a week but then he dropped it off at my apartment and explained the concept of kitty litter. I have attached the amended version of your poster as per your detailed instructions.
Regards, David

SHANNON: Thats not my cat. where did you get that picture from? That cat is orange. I gave you a photo of my cat.

DAVID: I know, but that one is cute. As Missy has quite possibly met any one of several violent ends, it is possible you might get a better cat out of this. If anybody calls and says "I haven't seen you orange cat but I did find a black and white one with its hind legs run over by a car, do you want it?" you can politely decline and save yourself a costly veterinarian bill.
Regards, David

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Awww

SHANNON: I didn't say there was a reward. I don't have $2000 dollars. What did you even put that there for? Apart from that it is perfect can you please remove the reward bit. Thanks Shan.

DAVID: Subject Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Awww

SHANNON: Can you just please take the reward bit off altogether? I have to leave in ten minutes and I still have to make photocopies of it.

DAVID: Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Awww

SHANNON: Fine. That will have to do.

"Rebecca has some fat thumbs."

2010-07-26T09:26:00.002-06:00

This is a video of the Harvard Sailing Team doing an encore of Boys Will Be Girls. Just like the first one, there are so many lines that crack me up.

Thanks for letting me mooch off you, Mindi.

How To Article of the Week

2010-07-24T08:55:00.002-06:00

This week: How to Juggle Three Balls

I've always wanted to know how to do this. They make it look so easy, and yet when I try, they always go flying in all directions.

P.S. Happy Pioneer Day to all you Utahns!

I think I'm a fan

2010-07-23T09:21:00.001-06:00

This is the music video for Brandon Flowers' new single. He's the lead singer of The Killers, and I must admit I may have watched this a few times, trying to get the song stuck in my head.

My 15 Minutes of Fame

2010-07-22T09:10:00.000-06:00

I just read about dentists, singing geriatrics, brownies that are hard enough to chip teeth, music from the 50s, clean dishes and dirty laundry on Carrot Jello's blog ... all in one post. It gave me a flashback that I thought I'd share:

Once when I was in middle school, I donated $5 to the local classical station. They were having their donation marathon, and I had it set as the station for my alarm (don't judge).

A few days after I sent in the donation, I woke up to hear them talking about me on the radio, essentially saying that if some 12-year-old boy could donate $5 then surely "you" could find some money to contribute.

And that's how I wasted my 15 minutes of fame.

My Sister-in-Law is a Saint

2010-07-20T09:17:00.002-06:00

Last night (or more accurately, early this morning), my sister-in-law arrived in Utah with her four kids for a visit while her husband is in training for a new position in the federal government. She is going to spend the week in a condo my parents own.

Because she was traveling without a spouse, I wanted to make sure to be there to help her unload. After she got there, I saw something seemingly insignificant that (to me) shows what an amazing person she is.

To give you a complete picture, she wasn't able to get on the road until 5 p.m. and due to delays, wasn't able to get into Utah until 5 a.m. Two of her kids have social disorders (one has Autism and the other has Asperger's), and then she has a set of twins ... all under the age of 5.

After helping her get all the bags inside, she had one sleeping baby left. I came up the stairs behind her while she cradled her little girl in her arms. When she got to the front doorway, she paused to wipe her feet.

Normally, this wouldn't have made me look twice, but knowing the exhaustion she must feel and and the lack of rest she is going to get today, I was impressed.

She is truly one of the sweetest people I know, and it shows in how considerate she is of using my parents' home away from home.

Oh yeah? Well, I work in a cubicle and type on a computer.

2010-07-19T08:51:00.002-06:00

That is the only thing I'd be able to come back with if I ever met this guy (Diego Stocco). I can't even imagine how cool it would be to have his job.

I guess he is a sound engineer who works on music scores for movies and video games, but he specializes in finding music where people don't traditionally look. He also creates his own instruments.

Most of his videos are kind of wacky, and it's hard to see what he's doing, but these two blew my socks off.

This is him playing one of his manufactured instruments (bassoforte):

This is him playing a tree (Yep, you read correctly. A tree.):

And in case you want another one, here he is playing a Bonsai. The best is when he starts flicking one of the leaves:

How To Article of the Week

2010-07-17T08:53:00.001-06:00

This week: How to Turn Your Jeans Into Earth Friendly Slippers

Don't get me wrong. I love to recycle, but the term "earth friendly" (when attached to jean slippers) made me gag a little.

... And I got what was coming to me.

2010-07-13T08:10:00.001-06:00

Even before Shawn got back into the office, one of my coworkers decided to get me back.

Well played, mystery co-worker. Well played.

I'm asking for it.

2010-07-12T07:50:00.003-06:00

This guy I supervise at work went on vacation all last week. By now, if someone goes on vacation for an extended period of time they know there is a certain risk.

If I'm not swamped, part of my brain automatically starts thinking about what I can do to their desk. For me, teasing is a Pavlovian response.

This guy is amazingly fast at all his projects. Every time I give him something to do, I have learned it will take about 2 hours less than if someone else did it.

That may or may not have influenced what I ended up doing.

It's nothing big, but here is the finished product:

How To Article of the Week

2010-07-10T08:07:00.000-06:00

This week: How to Escape from Killer Bees

By the time I was 11, I had been stung 6 times.

Needless to say, I hate bees.

Is it bad that I identify with this statement?

2010-07-09T10:10:00.001-06:00

"I have CDO. It’s like OCD but all the letters are in alphabetical order … as they should be."

Tetris Funnies

2010-07-08T09:05:00.000-06:00

Over the weekend, Super Happy Girl posted another of her famous Silly Saturdays.

In the midst of all the hilarity was this Tetris cartoon:

When I pointed it out to my coworkers, one of them showed me this one:

Just thinking about how to get a full row to line up on this makes me cringe.

It's too stressful and I have to avert my eyes.

Dryer Sheets: The New Toilet Paper

2010-07-06T11:34:00.001-06:00

(Tangent)
I just read the title of this post again, and it has an entirely different (and somewhat disgusting) connotation than what I intended. For the sake of freaking out my minuscule readership, however, I'm going to leave it as is. You're welcome.)
(End Tangent)

It is now 11 a.m.

I've been sitting at my desk for several hours, and I just looked down to find one of these laying on the floor by my left foot.

Realizing I've been walking around with one of these shoved up my pant leg all morning is similar to finding out I have a strip of toilet paper stuck to my shoe or a giant piece of lettuce in my teeth.

Klassy with a K.

How To Article of the Week

2010-07-03T08:56:00.001-06:00

This week: How to Clean Crayon out of a Dryer

Honestly, this has never happened to me, and I hope it never does.

Like Nails on a Chalkboard

2010-07-01T09:21:00.000-06:00

I'm not a mean guy. I may be a little on the spastic side, but I like to think I don't get terribly angry all the time.

However, there is a short list of songs that have amazing powers. Hearing a few bars of them causes such a violent reaction in me, that I have to restrain myself from punching a hole in the wall (or breaking my fist while attempting to do so).

There used to be two, but recently, a third has made it to the list:

"Fly" by Sugar Ray
"Wonderful Christmas Time" by Paul McCartney
***New Addition*** "Ridin' Solo" by Jason Derule

I know many may disagree with me, but these are so epically bad, that I have to leave the room when they are on, or I risk getting a second view of my lunch.