Monday I returned from my reconnectification (vacation) and on my third day back at work, I have come to the following conclusion: I’m never taking 10 days off again.

When I returned, there was a pile, nay, a plethora of work for me to do. While I was gone they decided to set a deadline for all my work to be done the day after I returned from my vacation. So, needless to say, they were beating down the door the morning I got back.

But that’s OK. It’s nice to be needed.

Now I’m using phrases like “head above water” and “coming up for air”. Someone told me I looked “samified.” I’m not sure if that means clueless, overworked, frustrated, or just dead sexy.

I finally got back to writing a blog 3 days after I returned. I’m officially sorry for not writing more while I was on vacation, but I was just having WAY too much fun to really post.

Somehow this story from my sister about my two year old niece puts everything back into perspective:

…Apparently [Kyla] was in [her room] needing to poop. So she got on her bed. Pulled off her pants and pooped on the bed. Then she put her pants back on. (leaving me a treasure in there from the aftermath) and went to the closet found some wipes got out 2 and picked up the poop into the wipes, crawled under her bed. Lifted off the vent cover (which is completely underneath her bed) and put her poop in the vent. Then she put the cover back on and played in her room. When I went to get her out to go pick up E and J at school to take them to gymnastics, i found poop on the bed. Took Kyla to the bathroom into the tub. put her clothes in laundry. Then looked for the poop. I knew it had to be somewhere from the streaks and residue on the bed but couldn’t find it, so I asked Kyla where it was, she got out of tub and showed me in the vent. So I had to clean out the vent. Meanwhile i realize that I am going to be late for the picking up of kids… oh the fun oh the joy…

Moments like this make me realize, my life isn’t so bad after all. At least my coworkers don’t deposit poop under my desk.


Vacations are amazing things.  They give us a break from the current rut we are in, offer enjoyment, pleasure, and typically involve going to a new or exciting place. 

My vacations, however, seem to defy all of these definitions. 

I typically work during all of my vacations.  I keep up on work email, and am often out promoting my side business.  I typically go to my parent’s or some other family member’s house, and I rarely go to a place I have never been before.  My vacations are enjoyable, but busy.  I try and see as many old friends as possible and catch up with all their goings on.  I think I sometimes return from vacation more tired than when I left. 

In a sense, I guess what I’m doing is reconnecting with my past; the people and locations that I love.  I’m not sure why I feel a need to do that, but it is a rewarding, positive thing to do.  Many great people and experiences make up the memories of my life, and why not re-experience them in some way?! 

Why do I write this?  What is the point?  I’m not really sure.  It just came out.  It’s one more little paradox in my life. 

Maybe I need to start calling my vacations by a new word.  How about returnifications or reconnectifications?  Sounds good to me. 

Someone should do this poll…

mitt-romney-for-president-3.jpgMany organizations have polled the question, “Would you vote for a Mormon candidate?” Well, I propose they try a new poll question, particularly among Mormons… “Would you vote for a candidate solely because he was a Mormon?”

When I talk to other Mormons about Mitt Romney’s candidacy, they typically don’t know too much about him. That is understandable because it is still early in the presidential race, and up until now he has been living and working in Massachussetts (which might as well be Timbuktu to some Mormons…). When I ask them who they are leaning toward, they usually say something like, “Well… I’d vote for Mitt just to get a Mormon in the White House.”

It’s basically the same logic that kept Sanjaya in American Idol for so long. People vote for the least likely candidate just to see how far he will go. (Well, the analogy breaks down when you realize that Sanjaya had no business in AI, whereas Mitt has qualifications to be President)

However… this is a dangerous position. You should get to know Mitt politically. Decide if he is the leader you want leading the country. I would be very curious to see how many Mormons would vote for their religion even if the candidate were Hillary herself.

While I’m on the topic of Mormonism, did you see “House MD” last night? I thought it was absolutely hilarious. One of the “applicants” for the new positions on House’s team is a black Mormon which House identified by a class ring from Brigham Young. This was funny to me because:

  1. BYU has no medical school… (and it is a well known fact that no doctors worth a hill of beans would get their undergrad at BYU… hehehe…)
  2. Class rings are not popular at BYU. I personally don’t’ know anyone who has one.

The character asserts early that Mormons now have a “very progressive” view on african-americans, then agrees to get slammed on Vodka as the “control group” for House’s latest medical test, after putting up a good fight contrary. (C’mon… wwjd if having a few shots cured a woman) I am really curious to see if this character will get anywhere in the series, and if House will continue to bash on his religious views. Who knows, maybe Mormonism will be the cure for House’s atheism! Um.. Not.

A New Definition of Pain

Saturday I was invited by my friend, Alan, to go to his gym and work out with his trainer Darche’. I have always wanted to experience what a personal trainer might have to offer, and Alan had said that he really liked this guy, so I gave it a whirl.

As a result, I have now experienced a new level of physical pain and suffering I have heretofore not experienced! In fact with the stroke of each and every key in writing this blog, small pains are shooting up my arms and shoulders.

Apparently, it was an “arms” day. We spent our time on bench press, incline press, decline butterflies, and cable butterflies. On each exercise we did 6-8 reps and 4-6 sets. By the time I got to set 4, I couldn’t push anything up anymore. I was beat.

However, I did learn that having a trainer (or even a partner who knows what he’s doing), is really worth it.

  1. They overestimate what you can do, while you tend to underestimate what you can do.
  2. They watch your form and keep you doing the exercise right.
  3. They spot you so you don’t drop things and kill yourself.
  4. They motivate you, push you, and get you to do the one or two extra you wouldn’t have done alone.
  5. They track your progress and help you see how well you’ve progressed.

My friend began a few months ago, and I have seen how noticeably huge he has gotten. In his first week he had lost something like 10% body fat, and gained like 3 inches all over. He is very dedicated and goes 6 days a week.

Overall, it was a surprisingly positive experience… yeah I know… I even astound myself… a positive experience at a gym is possible?!?! I left thinking “I may even repeat this experience sometime in the near future. ”

Until I woke up the next morning. PAIN. Agony. Hurt. I couldn’t move my arm up higher than my chest. Every arm movement cause new pain somewhere else. Simple and routine things like pulling a shirt over my head, opening a heavy door, and pushing yourself up off the floor suddenly become painful, and the creative solutions have to follow. Rolling up onto your feet rather than pushing up. Putting a shirt on one arm at a time.

Three days, hours of stretching, one massage, and 3 gallons of water later, the pain is now starting to subside.

Exercise really isn’t so bad… maybe.