Interent diet

What a week...

I've been doing too much internet browsing and such instead of doing work lately. It makes me feel useless and slothful. Since the outcome of my education is directly dependent on the output of research and literal work I accomplish, I felt it necessary to really begin chipping away at the large tasks before me. No internet (aside from chatting with friends-- I'm not inhuman, you know). This means no blogging, no message board participation, no ESPN.com scores/articles, no news.google.com, no random browsing of Wiki, no fish stuff, no nothing. Nada. Rien. Zip. Nil.

The results have been mixed.

On one hand, I'm getting tremendous amounts of work done (in comparison to previous quotas.) On the other hand, I'm kind of cranky. Work is more intense, I concentrate more, and I play less. I come away feeling like I'm not having any fun because I'm not doing exactly what I want when I want. (I am an adult, aren't I?) I also end up more tired and mentally exhausted because what used to take me a day or to complete takes me one day. You'd be amazed how much you can get done when you stick to the task rather than stopping every 10-15 minutes to see what your message board has to say.

So posts will probably be one a week from here on out. It feels weird, and I'm already suffering pangs of hunger from this internet diet.

sister site

A type-o led me to my sister site:

sixline.blogpsot.com

Very informative.

why uncle sixline doesn't belong in the upper crust

I like classical music. A lot. I like opera music. A lot. Don't ask me to identify it, or tell you my favorite. I have no clue. I can turn on classical music of any kind and really like it. I especially like Mozart's Requiem. I bought a CD of it off amazon.com. It was $9, shipped to my hizzy. I nicked the mp3s off the web, and it's high time I paid for them. (10 down, and about 1000 more to go...)

At any rate, when I shared this news with a friend of mine who's partaken of the upper crust having been an opera singer from New York. (It's also reported that she wears a monocle from time to time, but these rumors have yet to be confirmed.)

Her reaction was typical of 'her type.' (The cultured type.)

Her: Who directs it?
Me: Huh? I'm not sure, but Berlin Philharmonic performs it. (I only knew that having read the description on Amazon.
Her: I don't trust anyone other than Neville McStuffyshirt with Mozart. (OK, so his name isn't McStuffyshirt. But he's British, cultured, involved with upper crust music types, and is probably vitriolic against Americans.)

The problem with the upper crust is that they wish it was the Dark Ages again. When Lords were Lords, Vassals were Vassals, and Serfs were guys like me.

Looks like it's back to potty humor and other low-brow activities for me.

Gandalf's Wisdom

Many that live deserve death. Some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo? Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment. Even the very wise cannot see all ends.

The first time I heard that quote it really stuck with me. I don't consider myself a judgmental person, but I think I've been too hasty (eager, perhaps?) in dealing out judgment. One of the redeeming virtues of the Atonement is that Christ did suffer all things in order to understand them fully. His judgments are not one-sided. Complex issues are easier for us to understand if we can dismiss the facets and aspects that don't fit our current mindset and style. There's simply less to cope with.

Humans form opinions. For whatever reason, we like to pat ourselves on the back and be proud that we have a firm handle on things. We know the right answer; and relatively little changes our mind. The natural man is unteachable, he is prideful. To him, being right is more about ego than it is about understanding and compassion. Compassion leads one to explore other opportunities and see the relationships that cause people to do the things they do. When we bump into something that doesn't mesh with our opinions that have been hitherto cemented into our psyche, our pride will cause us to tweak the perception of the issue so that it matches our prejudices and preconceived notions.

Perhaps this is why pride is such a strong tool. We limit our thinking and convince ourselves that it's right to do so. Limited thinking is the product of the natural man, the latter is the product of the adversary.

As such, I think there are several people and social groups that deserve my apologies. I have been quick to judge others that don't march the same line I do when it comes to the Gospel. I still hold onto (for better or for worse) the ideal that being critical of any aspect of the Church is a dangerous road, but surely those that do it do not deserve my scorn and bitterness.

After all, judge ye not unrighteously, lest ye be judged.

Drinking from a Starbucks cup at BYU

This morning my good friend and I went down to BYU to visit their technical/engineering oriented career fair. Since BYU is a bigger school than mine (Utah State) they tend to garner a bit more interest. As such, we got up at the crack of dawn and drove the two hours to get there from our town to Provo before 9AM. We arrived around 8:30AM. My friend's wife, who was born and raised on the east coast, got me introduced to Starbucks brand apple cider with caramel froth. Don't be impressed: It's $3.50 for piping hot Treetop brand apple cider with some kind of caramel froth. The magic was gone when I spied the bottle behind the counter. Regardless of taking your average grocery store product and selling it at an unbelievably high markup, I find the drink quite tasty.

Now normally, a nice little Mormon guy like me wouldn't go into Starbucks. Why would I go there? They sell coffee. I don't drink coffee. Hence, I have no reason to go there... Normally. Now that my life has been enriched by the apple-y goodness of said drink, I found 8:30AM on a chilly February morning to be the perfect environment for me to walk around with my drink. I looked very professional in my new suit with shiny shoes holding what looked to be coffee in a Starbucks cup. At least I must've looked that professional, because I got quite a few stares from the BYU student body in the Wilkinson(that's the one, right?) Center.

I suppose that if you were to take away my coffee/cider, I'd look exactly like any other Joe down there at BYU. All the attention made me smile. Maybe it wasn't the anomaly of a student drinking coffee, though... Maybe I'm just that good looking.

My blog sucks!

Bah!

Who am I kidding.

No one's reading this. The only one that does usually hears me blab about my latest post ANYWAY... Bother my lack of audience and bother my need for one to post something that's worth half a penny.

But I don't want to quit. Maybe I should just start perusing other blogs, commenting here and there to try to generate some people that come and visit mine. I also should remove all tracking code so that I don't get depressed that no one comes. Leave a little magic to it, you know?

Oh well. My mom thinks I'm cool.

A plug for the Swiss

This guy off my Utah Jazz message board lives in Zurich. Nice guy-- as evidenced by my parcel in the mail this morning. I was chatting with him about Mirador and Farmer Croc-- two EXCELLENT Swiss culinary items. The former is a sort of spice, the latter is a cereal. They are very good, and made for heavy staples in the missionary diet when I was serving in Neuchatel. I missed those foods quite a bit, and I humbly asked if this friend of mine could send me a box of this.

He sent it a good 3 weeks ago. It arrived with some USDA markings on the box, and had been opened and re-sealed. But I had Farmer Croc cereal this morning. So good. When we have pasta next, I'm gonna put some Mirador on it. Oh man that stuff is good.

Nice guy. Next time you see a Swiss person, tell them they're great.

finally

After 3 weeks of having a living room comparable to a hurricane disaster area, it's finally clean.

That's right, it's clean. My poor wife did every scrap of laundry yesterday, leaving a mountain of clean clothes on our bed. I did half the dishes (I got too pooped to do the rest. Mrs. Sixline said she'd cover the rest today, Lord bless her.) and together we got the bathroom in working order. I even took an old (clean) rag, dipped it in piping hot water and did a little mop job in there.

But the big ticket was that living room. Since we live in a house that was built in 60's, our basement carpet is blue. It's kinda cool, but it's kinda dirty. Tracking snow and ice in there makes the carpet an almost brown color. This is disgusting. How can blue turn brown?! Anyway. In addition to the floor that's dirty and hadn't been vacuumed in the last 3 weeks, I had my fish crap EVERYWHERE. Remember last week, when I thought I'd be done? That tank was filled with water and rock and sand and the stupid thing cracked. So I had to wait another week to get a replacement tank. In the meantime there's been PVC pipe, wood shavings, scrap pieces of PVC, paint cans, tools, drills, drill bits, buckets of sand, buckets of salt, and a big tub of water and rock hanging out in my living room. Not only that, but our little table that we eat on (strange apartment layout, no room in the kitchen for eating so we put the small table for two in the living room.) It was pushed out of the way and just made things difficult and clunky in that room.

Yesterday I got the new tank in place, emptied the sand from the bucket and took care of said bucket, placed the rock in the tank and removed its tupperware container, cleaned up all my tools, disposed of all excess PVC and trash, put away all other chemicals, cleaned off the fishtank stand, and vacuumed. Then I moved the table back. We finally have a house in working order.

Hitting home

Mrs. Sixline and I rarely visit my family. My older brother is in the Air Force, currently stationed at Holloman AFB in Alamogordo, New Mexico. My little sister lives with her husband in Provo, where my little brother is staying until he moves into his apartment in the next month (Provo as well.) My parents and my eldest sister live in West Bountiful, however my dad works for the government checking baggage at airports and hence travels everywhere in the US.

This past weekend as a rare time when all of us could congregate in one city for an extended period of time. My older brother's wife, sadly, couldn't come up from New Mexico. We missed her, but it was fun all the same.

I know we're not as social as I'd like to be, and this has its ups and downs. When we are together, we don't fight or have episodes between us. We never see each other; why would we waste the few moments we have with fighting?

On the other hand, my wife's family is very close, and every one of them live in a 25 mile radius. As such, not only do they see more of each other, but I think it causes a bit of tension and your average family drama episodes pop up more often than with us.

I can't tell which way I want it. I like the closeness of my wife's side of the family, and I like the space my side of the family has. I just wish there were more good moments like this weekend to share.

A plug for Mrs. Sixline

I got us a swanky dinner date for Valentine's Day, but I can't remember where... I figured we can go to a chain restaurant any old day, so this is for a local place that's supposed to be nice. I have a surprise for her beyond that, but I'm not sure how I'm going to pull it off. I'll release details later, as I know that some of Mrs. Sixline's friends read this blog, and I prefer not to leak any details of the operation.

I really have to breathe a sigh of relief I'm with Mrs. Sixline. In some ways, I know she's lucky to have me. I do quite a bit of cleaning, I'm trying to be a righteous husband, and I'm doing my best to bring home the bacon.

I come up short far too often for my liking, and I don't depend on me the way she does. She's a rock. She's never disappointed me. I'm not talking about minor things, like towels on the floor, toothpaste caps, or cupboard doors being open. I'm talking about big things. When I need her. She's completely dependable, and stronger than I am. I feel like hanging my head in shame when I compare my track record to hers. I get teased because she's the only one who could put up with my personality and quirks, but I think it goes beyond that... She's able to support me and love me in the way I need.

Please, don't feel I take advantage of her. I'd hate to be guilty of that. It is true that I'm on the receiving end of a lot of things. (She's let me watch every Utah Jazz game this year.) Her example makes me want to do better. In a lot of ways, I've come very far, but... It just doesn't seem like it's enough. She deserves someone better, and I want that to be me.

My fish tank cracked.

This weekend was a huge buildup to setting up my reef. It was a real project, I had two pumps, a network of PVC pipes going everywhere, the tank on the stand and the other tank (the one that holds equipment and the like) underneath in the stand and I had everything ready. I did a test run to check for leaks and I had a few. I tightened those down, put teflon tape on a few connections, and tried again. No leaks. I was getting seriously excited. So I added a bunch of salt, got the salinity right, and then began to add sand and rock.

At this point paranoia got the best of me and I checked the back of the tank again to make sure that with the pumps running I still didn't have any leaks and that all my fixes were holding.

They were, but there was still water. Huh? How could that be? I saw water down near the lip of the tank, but my angle prevented me from seeing the crack at that time. I just figured I had spilled some water while putting rocks in. Then I looked back a second time, noticed more water, and decided it had to be coming from somewhere. But still, there was no visible source, no pipe sticking out, no pipe overhead, nothing.

Then I saw the crack.

Luckily I got everything out before the crack got so bad that it didn't hold water but man... This bites.

I don't have time to re-do it for another few weeks. I keep having family obligations down in Salt Lake (I know I want to see family and everything, but sometimes I just want to be left alone) and so weekends are eaten up with being down there.

*sigh*

It's depressing.

spontaneous combustion

When I get really stressed, sometimes it's like I must go through the cycle of:

1. Thinking about the things that stress me
   
2. Having them weigh on me
   
3. Blowing up (last night was a doozy)
   
4. Relaxing
   
5. Re-structuring/prioritizing life in order to finish what needs to be done
   
6. Having confidence it can happen
   
7. Making it happen
   

I'd really like to be able to eliminate all but the first, and the last three. 2-5 just don't add anything to my life. Humans are such creatures of habit. Even though I'm aware of this cycle, I feel like I'm powerless to stop it in one coup. Sure, it can stop. But it'll take a while. I heard once that our brains have thought patterns and processes, like the order the neurons fire, and that our brain gets used to doing it that way-- almost like the way asphalt gives way to tires running on it all the time. Our brains literally develop a groove, rut-- if you will, and that makes habit breaking extremely hard.

Maybe I should sell tickets to my panic episodes. Then I could at least generate revenue while trying to better myself.

suit riot

It costs too much to 'look good.' I wish I could be presentable without having to break the bank. It ran me well over $500 to get a suit, shoes, and two shirts at Men's Wearhouse yesterday. "So why'd you go to Men's Wearhouse, then? Everyone knows they're so expensive. You should have gone to ______" and insert your high-falutin' know-it-all answer.

Just because I whine doesn't mean I want to hear what I could have done. In some cases it's too late. (Like this one.) And don't tell me that everyone else in the world gets their suits and discount prices and no one but me ever EVER overpays.

I also don't like sales associates. The guy last night was decent enough, but I've been on that side of the fence. I know what some people are willing to say/do to get the sale. The actions of the rest of the crowd skew my trust in the good ones, so I end up defensive and hostile, which gets me nowhere.

I just hate feeling like I got screwed on the economic end.

Plateau

Recently I've felt a renewed sense of motivation. It's a welcome change to the otherwise blasé attitude I seem to have.

I think the key to continued motivation and personal progress is to not get too far ahead or behind. Just keep a pace-- whatever pace that might be-- and go.

As far as school goes, things are going fine. I was able to drill my fish tank (drilling glass is a trying endeavour) and I'm proud of myself for being able to do it successfully. My local Reef Club message board kept trying to convince me to take the tank to a fish store and have them drill it. Most fish stores want about $15 per hole. I have to drill 6 holes. The aquarium was free, why would I pay $90 to have someone else do it?!

Anyway, I rarely ever feel like I'm good with my hands, so this was one of life's little victories for me. They said I couldn't I proved them wrong. The only thing that bothers me is that they're not around to have me rub it in their faces.

Oh well. High road it is.

P.S. -- This is my 100th post.

Weird dreams.

I had two sports related dreams last night.

In the fist dream, I heard a lot of cheering in my apartment. So I walked up to the TV, to turn it on, and it was showing the Nets/Jazz game. The Nets players were going WILD. Then they showed the score, and I saw 94-29. I remember screaming at my wife that the Jazz could only muster 8 points a quarter. She told me to calm down, but I wouldn't hear of it. I got so mad I turned off the TV. I think this means that I'm upset with the way the Jazz are playing recently.

Then, you know how dreams suddenly stop and go to different places and you don't skip a beat, right? All of a sudden I was in Baltimore. I was standing next to Camden Yards. The sky was this greyish color, but where the sun was strong behind the clouds it was an eerie dirty yellow. There was a gothic style prison over a small hill with a large field between the prison and this dumpy old house. All this was on one side of an empty street with the stadium on the other side. In the far off distance behind the stadium I could see the shadowy outline of a city's skyscrapers.

I remember walking up to the house, going through the garage, and knocking on the door. It was Cal Ripken Jr's house, and I wanted him to sign my baseball. Trouble was, I didn't have a baseball. I had a baseball that was missing huge chunks of it, almost as though someone had taken a bite out of it.

Anyway, I knocked on the door and these kids answered. I asked if Cal Ripken Jr. was there. They said yes, and some guy with Cal's face came to the door. He was tall, fat, and had a mullet. (Cal's bald, for those who don't know.) He came out, and we all played catch. I kept wanting to ask him to sign my ball, but I was too afraid. His son started telling me about how he was going to go to college in Calgary, because they have a lot of schools there. Then Cal asked us to go to the baseball game with him. Instead of responding, I asked 'Cal, will you sign my--' and I woke up.

I have no idea what this one meant. Sometimes a baseball is just a baseball, eh Freud?

Very odd night, all together.

God is not dead.

So last night I got to thinking (doubting) about where I'm at in my 'career.' There's a lot on my plate. It's not my intent to turn this post into a whine-fest about how much I have to do. We all have our lot in life. Suffice it to say last night I particularly didn't feel up to the task.

I felt like something must give. Either I've got to feel like it's going in the right direction, and that I can find a boost of confidence, or I've got to stop.

I went into the living room so I could pray alone and concentrate. I asked the Lord if He would give me confidence. I felt the response immediately-- something that doesn't always happen during prayer-- No. I cannot make you a confident person. You must choose it, and I will guide you.

I ended the prayer and went back into my bedroom. Mrs. Sixline asked me how the prayer went. I related to her the same story you just read. As I told her, I started to think of all the people I've recently come into contact with. They've all been very aware of how I struggle with confidence and they've given me positive reinforcement several times now. My own patriarchal blessing, given to me 8 years ago, tells me that the Lord will guide me when it comes to my professional affairs. Any fear I had about being led to where I am now was quelled. He has guided me here, and it would be foolish of me to abandon His plans now.

I am reminded of one my favorite scriptures from the Good Book.

Proverbs 3:5-6
5 ¶ Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.
6 In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.

I am thankful that God answers prayers. He truly is mindful of us.

Old friends

So I got to talking to an old friend and realized that some people I've known for onwards of ten years.

My brother in law, Joe. He's the friend I've had the longest. I (obviously) keep in good contact with him very often seeing as how our wives are sisters. (That's a post for another day.) I met him back in Texas in... Golly, 1994? 1993? 14 years ago. I have other friends from Texas I've known that long but don't keep the greatest contact with... I'm a bit ashamed of that. Good friends are hard to come by.

Then there's the 'internet' friends who have been just as good of friends despite the distance. There was awhile when we all fell out of contact, but now that we are all on Google Talk, it's like we never skipped a beat. Wow. Those guys, all the 1994-1995 time as well. 12-13 years I've known them. Their links are over there on the right. For you lazy folk, they're Paulistano & SilverChic (married), Chancelot, and Peter.

These people I've known for 12-13 years. That's half my age. Wow.

Good friends are hard to come by. I can't say that enough. Treasure them. I have some very good ones now, people I've recently met, and I hope to be able to say the same things about them in 12-13 years.

Snow

I never thought I'd say this, but I really don't want it to snow. It's coming down right now, and I just shoveled the walk and driveway. Within 15 minutes it'll look like I didn't do anything at all. Since we've had such a mild winter this year I never bothered to buy ice melt. Now everyone in the valley will clean out the local suppliers and since I'm stuck at school all day I wonder if I'll be able to get some by the time the night is over.

Of course, St. Murphy, laughing at me from the Beyond, might not let it snow in the following weeks making my bag of ice melt a waste of money. I guess I'd rather be safe than sorry.

Or, we could buy some water softener. It says 'salt' on it, it's bagged the same way (size, weight) as ice melt, and very often it's stored on palettes neighboring the ice melt. Once Mrs. Sixline accidentally bought a bag, and we had it in the trunk for about a year before I finally just tossed it. Even though she got the wrong thing, it was pretty cool of her to take it upon herself to heft a 25lb bag of salt into the trunk thinking it would help me shovel the walk. Mrs. Sixline is pretty cool, ladies and gentlemen. She is pretty cool.

Emotional laxative, anyone?

I hate feeling like this.

I especially hate it when channels (such as a blog) are futile at helping me. Maybe I take myself too seriously and should just let it go. I don't mean to sound cryptic, but I guess I'm just having too rough a time right now. All things considered, my life is very good, and I don't believe that I'm really having 'difficult times,' as one would think of them as being. I just hate being challenged in areas where I'm unsure of myself.

For instance, when I play video games, the ones I enjoy the most are the ones I know I can beat. When I board games with friends, unless I'm very sure of myself competing/winning, I don't particularly enjoy playing. I hate competing when I'm not sure I can win. Trouble is, I can't seem to develop the mentality of confidence without prior experience. Doing new things precludes experience (duh), and so I hesitate with new things.

More trouble is, I'm working at a place where it's my job to do something new and different. I get a bit scared at it. I'm not sure what exactly I'm scared of-- failure, inability to do it (failure), needing help, how well I'll do, how long it'll take, or what. I just hate feeling like this and not being able to make it go away.

Episode XI: A New Semester

I started college in August of '02. I went to school that year, '02-'03, '03-'04, '04-'05, '05-'06, last year (Fall '06), and now '07. Plus I went in the summer of '04, so that makes this semester my 11th thus far.

I'm really tired of this.