Question of the day...

Question: Is there such thing as a stupid question, or just stupid people?

Many of you know how I love Christmas. My cohort in spreading Christmas Cheer (Ri-Bone) has been taking a lot of heat lately, but I am here to back him up with a wonderful Christmas memory to share with all of you. Hope you enjoy…

The month was November, the year 2004, I was young and confused. I didn’t know what was best for me. I was enrolled at BYU. Don’t worry – that only lasted one semester. Because of people like this…

We were sitting in a classroom waiting for our Physical Science lab to start when it started snowing. I can remember the excitement I felt as I was sure that the Christmas celebrations would start early. It was snowing the nice, big flakes. It was beautiful.

I was not the only one in the classroom that was excited. I did not voice my excitement, because I really didn’t care to talk to anyone in the classroom. I did however overhear this conversation happening very close to me…

Girl 1: “Oh look, it’s snowing.”
Girl 2: “Wow, I have never seen snow before – does it hurt when it hits you?”
Girl 1: “No, where are you from?”
Girl 2: “Arizona.”

The conversation continued, but I couldn’t continue to listen. Anyway, there you have it. One of the many fond Christmas memories that I have. If you are lucky, you may be blessed to receive more lovely Christmas memories.

Warning: Contains Michael Scott Humor...

Seriously Mom, you may want to just check the other blogs...

Our last day of class, one of our instructors decided that a big group therapy session was in order. He passed out papers that asked us "The thing that I will never forget about my experience in Nursing 2110 is..." We then wrote what we would never forget and handed them back.

You can imagine the many lame responses that were then read back to us. Think about 40 women at the completion of a two year project - most of the responses included something about either the 'wonderful experiences' had or the 'wonderful friend' that were made. I couldn't believe that this was actually happening.

Not all responses were incredibly lame. Some were pretty funny. I will now tell you of one that was potentially the funniest moments of my life.

My instructor read one response "I will never forget getting a big shot right in the butt by a nervous, shaky, and sweaty student."

My instructor then puts on his reflective face and says longingly, "Oh yes, I remember my first time..." then pauses...

Uh...

Now, many things happened at this moment. One was that in my head I reverted back to a now famous saying by none other than Michael Scott. I was not the only one that this happened to as those gentlemen around me and I exchanged glances and try not to burst into laughter.

My instructor then proceeds to tell the story of his first time... giving a shot that is... Wow.

Who is Lazarus?

No, I am not dead. No, I did not sustain life threatening brain trauma from dominating the turkey bowl... I am actually surprised that I am still living. You all know the depths of my laziness. You must understand that I have been relatively busy of late and thus have put blogging on the back burner. There were many a day that I felt I might actually collapse from having to actually work. I know, I know, blah blah blah... waa, waa, waa, but I am working around 60 hours a week and doing school another 15, so I have a decent excuse.

But none of that matters. I have neglected the updating of my blog for long enough. I am currently at the residence of Ri-Bone because Payson is gay. By the way, Comcast and Dish Network are gay as well. I will not even begin to explain... long and freaking stupid story. Oh, and insurance companies are gay too. Just so you know.

Bottom line is this, we have dish network at home. Awesome. We do not have the Internet, lame. I have one more paper to write that is due Friday and a final to take on Monday. I have done a little math and found out that I can still pass the class if I get 10% correct on the final, so no stress there. It really feels pretty nice.

This may be the single worst post of my career, but it is a post. If you would rather, I could post about super awesome stuff like girls soccer or about how I can now tell people "your mom" in sign language. But I won't. This post is over, I am back... for now.

Learned or Inherited?

Today’s post is about an epiphany I had recently… Let me just put a couple pictures in your mind…

1. Me, on the tee box with Driver in hand and a tee sticking out of my mouth.
2. Me, sitting on the porch passing the time.
3. Me, not having cable or the internet.

Ok, so there are a few problems. I still have not reverted to calling water ‘rocky mtn. punch’, nor have I begun to manually signal a left turn while entering the freeway. But I do continue to live in the Stone Age. My old man now has caller ID and HDTV. He also enjoys the luxury of the World Wide Web (even though he still just plays solitaire). The point is that I have limited access to the internet and I have not really done anything about it.

So, you can call this an excuse for not blogging. It does increase your blogging potential by having the internet in the confines of your home, so that will be coming soon, thanks to Comcast. Also, school sucks and it takes a lot of my time these days – have you ever taken out an NG tube – it’s gross. And who would blog instead of embarrassing JROD and Tikes on the course?

Anyway…

The Christmas celebration begins in a mere two days. That is something that we all can blog about.

War me plugging the blogs to the nursing staff that I was working with yesterday.

My Fatness, er... Fitness Program...

There are a couple things that need to be brought up before this post gets going too far. 1- I am fat. There are many levels of fat, from slightly overweight to Jabba the Hut, but rest assured… I am fat. 2- I like football… a lot. I think football is my #1 sport both to watch and to play. Just for the record, co-ed softball ranks around 47. Just behind cross country and just before NASCAR. Anyway…

You may remember that last year during this time I was known to many as Benedict Hub. I bailed on the football team I had played with for years for the promise of fame and fortune as a member of the Iron Pigs. We were a good team, but we could not get over the hump. Our quarterback situation was one that was not conducive with winning it all. Alas, we fell short.

Fast forward, or rewind, to my last post about football entitled "Called Out Of Retirement." I was brought back to ensure a championship victory. I have since gone back to the origins of my flag football career. Yes, I am once again a member of a dynasty. The team formerly known as Pirate Motorsports has me on their roster playing D End full time.

So, I hope that I can get into better shape. It is pretty bad right now. I cannot sprint for two plays in a row. Now, if the football doesn’t get me where I want to be, I have a sweet backup plan. I have signed on to play P-town league basketball with none other than Kid Rock himself. I am pumped. League starts Nov. 10th. I am almost as excited at the blogging prospects that surely will present themselves during the games as I am about actually playing. But for now, the drama of Flag Football will have to do.

My Battle Against Boredom...

As a student nurse I have learned many things over the years. The important things I have, of course, forgotten. But I do remember some of the ‘interesting’ stuff. Now when I say ‘interesting’ I mean knowledge mostly concerning the bowel. So, I have built up an immunity to feeling the least bit embarrassed or grossed out when discussing poo, the formation of poo, or the elimination of poo. On that point…

I like to take my sweet time on the throne. Think what you may. Some people take long showers, I take long growlers. Don’t worry about it. I always have some reading material handy as well (you can’t just sit there). Usually it is the Reader’s Digest or a golf magazine. The other day, however, I came to a figurative wall. I had read both these two sources, leaving me alone and exposed. What could I do?
Quickly the idea came to pull out my phone and play a quick game of whatever game the phone came with. Unfortunately, all of the ‘games’ were just demos. Gay. I could play for like 30 seconds and then it would ask if I wanted to purchase the game. No, thanks. I knew that, eventually, I would have to break down and buy a game on my phone.

I did and you all wish you had my phone right now. I am rocking Guitar Hero 3 on the LG. I have already passed the normal difficulty 5-staring every song and am well on my way to doing to same in expert mode. I guess my legendary skills from the real GH3 combine with my above average texting skills to create a god-like power to melt faces with just my phone.

Note: The actual game isn’t that good, but good enough - And GH3 blows Rockstar out of the water.

I once was lost, but now am found...

As yet another golf season is coming to a close, and a Christmas season is fast approaching (less than 1 month until the celebrations begin), I need some closure. I think it necessary to ‘come clean’ about my secret bout with OCD.

It all started around 2 months ago, I was in prime golfing shape, and I was going 3-4 times a week. It was an addiction that could not be quenched. Many of you know that I am not really good at the sport I so love, therefore, I was losing a lot of golf balls. Usually what I would do when this happened was go the Wal-Mart (they got your back) and buy some used Titliest golf balls that would last me another couple weeks.

I don’t remember exactly when it happened, but I was on the course, and I was running low. I thought to myself, “I can just buy some more, no big deal” but I continued, “or I could just look for some in the weeds and scrub oak where I have lost so many and then I could use the money I would have spend on balls, and buy another round.” I committed then and there. I was not going to buy another ball.

I had always thought that if I lost a ball that I would go look for it and find an extra, thus preserving my count and adding to it. But I kind of had a mental break at that time. It was on hole 8 at the local course. I hit one into the really rough stuff to the west of the green. I parked the cart and headed in. I found my ball and others, I kept looking, and something snapped. I couldn’t stop. It was addicting, I not only searched there, but on the other side of the fairway. By the end of my search of around 20 minutes (luckily it was not busy that day), I had nearly 40 golf balls. Ya, it was on.

Not only was my addiction changed from playing to looking for balls, but I had to clean and categorize each individual ball. My wife can attest that I should have taken some anti psychotic meds. Don’t believe me? I can prove it. Here is my current inventory of golf balls by brand…

64 – Titliest
56 – Top Flight
30 – Callaway
26 – Nike and Maxfli/Noodle (52 total – 26 each)
11 – Precept
8 – Taylormade, Wilson, and Dunlop (8 each)
7 – Pinnacle
5 – Alien
3 – Slazenger
2 – Srixon

10 – Colored balls (red, blue, yellow, etc… these don’t really count)
10 – Random (currently in my bag) I know there is a lazer in there, for what it’s worth.
29 – Old PRO V1s and Nike ONEs. (Used for when I am feeling lucky)

303 – Total

So as you can see, it was bad. I have since lost my craving for more balls and am living a more mentally healthy life. I am, however, on constant alert, weary of signs and triggers of relapse. So the moral of the story is this, you don’t need to buy any more golf balls. I have plenty, of whatever brand you would like. You are all free to come and take as many as you need. Consider it for my own good. I fear that it is like when you move old people that have crap that they never use and never will, but can’t part with it – You may need to work out something with Ash… just have her sneak you out some.

Note: Most of the balls in my inventory didn’t actually come from a course, but from surrounding areas. For example, across the road from Hobble and the park near Spanish Oaks, etc… This is embarrassing.

My Recruitment...

Yes, I am being recruited. Neither Bronco nor K-Witt have come to my house and said, “You are old and fat, but we want you to play football for us.” No secret agents from Tikes’ dreams have asked me to leave my old life behind and serve my country as a CIA operative. This time there was no trade show exhibits convention to recruit me to a school. This recruitment is for less stressful.

I am a nursing student and as such, many people want my services in the future. This is why I am being recruited. Now, the decision on where I work comes down to more than just how much money I will make, or where I will actually be working. I am far shallower than that. That is why Mt. View Hospital has unofficially become my next home away from home.

Some representatives from Mt. View have recently visited our nursing class and bribed me with such extravagant gifts as chap stick, carabiners, pens, and the best yet – muffins and juice. Yes, they had me when they handed me my free super cheap carabiner. It is now an essential part of my keychain.

The representatives from the hospital talked to everyone in the class, but I know that it was just so that the other students wouldn’t feel bad if they had talked to me and me alone. So, I have decided to apply sometime in the recent future to begin work as an LPN at said hospital. Future details are forthcoming. Just know that I am important and I got some seriously sweet stuff and you didn’t. Oh, I almost forgot to mention their biggest bribe… 4 grand in cold hard cash over the last 4 semesters. I am contractually obligated to work for Mt. View, Timpanogas, or St. Mark’s for around a year post-graduation.

None the less, they continue to shower me with gifts and plead for my services.

Note – the U.S. Army has also recruited on 4 separate occasions. They provide pizza, but no carabiners. What does that mean? No deal... Sir.

Not so update...

Yes, it has been a while. A long while. I knew that something had to be done when your mom told me that I could “come over anytime to use [their] computer to blog”. When your mom is telling me to blog, it is bad. That is like your dad telling me how to pass someone on the freeway. And now that there is an Amber alert out – I knew today was the day.

You may all be wondering about the picture. I guess it could have two meanings. You could say that my favorite actor ever represents me and my inability to type freely. However, I have chosen this picture not to represent myself (no picture is that awesome) but to represent my college experience so far this semester.

I have done a clinical rotation at the Utah State Hospital. I know that this is a very popular place to take pictures as there is a ‘castle’ behind the hospital that is a very pretty place. I now have peeked into the depths of the beast as it were and am here to report…

Let me start by telling you that I know, as do most of you, two employees of the hospital. One is much better known than the other; he is my age, his name in Mike, and his older brother is my land lord’s brother-in-law. Clear enough? Anyway, he has been bitten, yelled at, threatened, scratched, and yes, kicked in the gonads while at work. I knew this going in. I was pretty nervous.

I am happy to report to you that after 33 hours with mentally ill patients, I was never in physical danger. I did witness a "take down", a patient ‘changing the oil’ on the benches in the hallways. I also saw a patient sprinting up and down the hallways and lifting imaginary weights while grunting as if he were in the Olympics, all to ‘release aggression’. I also saw a pt pushing on the walls exclaiming “I can hear it cracking, I’m busting out of this place.” Now, I don’t mean to make light of their condition. Mental illness is serious and deserves understanding and respect. This whole post seems more like a response paper than a decent post, but, I thought that I needed to post on something pronto, or my family might have me admitted.

From Rags to Riches, or Vice Versa...

Yes, it has been many a day too long since I have updated in the Hub. There has been a pressing issue on my mind the last couple weeks, though. I believe that you all deserve to hear it…

My wife and I have decided that it is time to move back to the land of our forefathers, or at least back to the land of my childhood. You read correctly. P-town, the most awesome person to ever grace your streets is returning to his old domain. I wish I could tell you that we found a house, but when I asked our income if that were possible he just started laughing. After he finished, he asked if that was a serious question. I just let go at that point.

But we are moving in the coming weeks and I expect all of you reading this to give me a call and be there for the big day. I am thinking it will probably take around 3 hours as there is not a whole lot of junk to move. The distance between our future residence is also pretty close, so that helps. Of course, if you are not there to help I will understand that you hate both my wife and me and that you hope never to see us again. For those of you who are there, I believe a round of golf on me is appropriate as payment.

FYI, this place is located 2 blocks from your mom’s house. Just up the hill. The landlord used to live next door to your mom’s house before the shirtless leaf blower moved in. Maybe you know the place.

Some benefits of the move include, but are not limited to:

Cell phone reception
Electricity
Civilization
Stores within 10 miles
Natural Gas
No animals

Forgive Me Father, For I Have Sinned...

The first annual family migration to AZ is almost upon us. This trip will be filled with awesome stuff including, but not limited to; 18 holes of golf in hell, good food, GH3, dunkball, pool lounging, and the Braves vs. Diamondbacks game.

I now have a confession to make. I do not follow the Braves as closely as I should, I don't own a Braves jersey, the only Braves shirt I have was given to me by Ri-Bone (thanks). You could say that I am a Braves fan by default. However, due to a terrible season and a devastating and contagious something or other, the team has been riddled with injuries. Now, that is not my fault. "I did not break the pace car" (Rome). But my problem now is that I only know the name of 1 player on the team without looking it up, and I don't even know how to spell it - Frenchy. I know that they have a new cf because the dough boy has been traded to LA. I know, it's ridiculous how little I have learned.

Now, I am excited to go and watch the game and I will cheer on the Braves. I am just asking for guidance from those who know more than I, and that have been there through thick and thin. I need to know what to watch for - if there is anything left. So I ask you, faithful Brave loving blungle members, to teach me to walk in the light of Bobby. Who is decent? Who is fat? Who even plays? Can any of them hit? I now am going to do a little research as it is the second step of my repentance process.

I found it. The next big thing is almost within my reach. I have been shopping the last couple days in order to find my next putter. I am currently borrowing Tikes old one, and it has treated me well, but I feel the urge to plunge myself deeper into golf debt.

The winner of my putting affection is…. the Odyssey White Hot Sabertooth. It is money, it hits the ball smoothly, and it looks cool (maybe its most important feature). I figure that if it is good enough for Rocco, then it is good enough for me.

There is just one catch… It retails at a cool $169.99. I saw the price tag and started thinking…

Birthday – no, just passed.

Father’s Day – nope, also just passed.

Christmas – no, too far away.

Half birthday – no, again too far away.

Since I have 0 excuses to buy it and 0 dollars in the ‘buy more golf stuff’ fund, I am in a pickle. But I don’t give up so easy. I get to thinking again… I can perform slave labor for someone that could use my (relative) youth. I ponder for a bit, and Boom, Ralph Ricardo is the answer to my predicament. Yes sir, he always has something going on in one of his two yards. And right now is no exception. His latest leveling/sod laying project is already underway… and I am a part of it. The very same man that funded buying my Rams is going to come through in the clutch and hook me up once again.

Now when I eventually (it could be days, weeks, or even months) buy my sabertooth; I can really say that I paid for it with blood, sweat, and tears. Tears of joy, of course.

The End Of An Era

I guess it was bound to happen sometime… As you know, I own a pair of golf shoes. You also know that I don’t ever stay strictly in the fairway. If you put those two bits of knowledge together you can understand that I get a bunch of mud and gunk stuck to my shoes. Anyway, today just so happened to be one of those days; and by ‘one of those days’ I mean holy I am terrible.

So we get to the 18th green and I pull out my putter to putt for bogey. I then notice my shoes. I think back to earlier in the round as I left the sand that I gave a swift wedge chop to my shoes to clean them of any residual sand. This chop was much like you see baseball players do to clean their cleats.

So, without thinking I decide that a couple swift putter chops to my shoes might clean them… it didn’t work. I then decide, again without thinking, to chop again – only harder. This time a bit of mud and some grass come off. I then decide to continue this action until I feel the majority of the crap is off my shoes. My putter had other ideas.

Pretty much I busted the head off my putter. Yes, I am a retard. Yes, I have learned my lesson, and yes, I am accepting any Scotty Cameron putters that you may have lying around the house. Consider it a charitable donation. It will go to a worthy cause.

War Tikes and Ri-Wie owning extra putters.

Another Small Peeve...

Many ‘guys’ have been spoken of in the blungle. There is ‘softball guy’ and even worse, ‘likes to walk in softball guy’. There is ‘biker shorts guy’ and ‘jogger guy’. There is even ‘white trash no undies cook guy’. The list goes on and on. A couple days ago something happened to me that opened my senses to not another guy, but a lady… ‘Way too much grandma perfume lady’. Let me explain…

The other day I am walking down the hall (not at home) and as I pass by the drinking fountain ‘WTMGPL’ walks by in all her glory. She is apparently unaware that the entire building can smell her coming. Are you kidding me? What is going on in her head as she is getting ready for the day? Does she stink really bad because she has hairy pits? Does she like the sound the little perfume bottle makes? Or does she just lose track of time as she sprays herself down for 10 minutes prior to exiting her home?

The worst part is that the perfume doesn’t even smell good unless you are above the age of 70 when the chemoreceptors in you nose start to deteriorate. Now, I don’t have a problem with perfume, cologne, candles, potpourri, peach air fresheners for your car, flowers, or any other pleasant smelling substance, I just have a problem with any lady that puts on 6 times the legal limit of perfume that belonged to her great grandmother. You can’t tell me that it doesn’t bug you too.

Shown Up By A Girl, Again...

Ashley is a stud mini golfer. I don't know where her massive skill comes from, but I have never beaten her on a miniature golf course. I haven't even come close. Now, my putting skills are terrible, but that is besides the point. Some of you reading this may recall Fiesta Fun in St. George a while back (maybe 2-3 years ago?) when we went couples best ball and Ashley smoked you all to bring the free dessert our way? I do. It was awesome.

Fast forward to yesterday. We went golfing. A co-worker's wife wanted to take him for his birthday and we got the invite. Basically, I was forced to go golfing again. I know, a sacrifice that had to be made. Anyway, Ash had told me beforehand not to make her swing a club at all - she was just the cart driver and caddie.

So we went out the back and I was not even good. I three putted the 10th green starting with a double bogey. I pretty much 3 putted a lot. So I finally start picking it up on 15. A sweet tee shot and a decent approach leave me with a birdie putt that I shank - of course, and another sweet tee shot on 16 get me to the green in regulation. I then 2 putt for 2 pars in a row. I am feeling it. 17 comes along - after taking a quick bath, my ball is on the front fringe about 10 feet from the hole.

At this point 1 of 3 things happen inside Ashley's head. She either thinks 1- Holy moley J-stew if I have to watch my husband 3 putt one more time I swear... 2- This has been fun, I would like to try my putting skills, let's have a go, or 3- I dominate with the putter; let me show you how it's done.

She walks over to where I am standing with her hand outstretched - doesn't say a word. I say "are you putting for me now?" "Yep." "Ok." I stand back, watch, and wait. Ashley then asks, "how do you hold the putter?" I coach her, "however feels comfortable." She then lines it up, looks at the hole, and sinks it. Just like that. At this point I am thinking about just turning my clubs over to her and watching her golf on TV. It was awesome.

18 comes along. Another sweet tee shot, another in the water (going for the green it two - sliced it right, so another putt from maybe 15-20 feet - I just give the putter to Ashley - no questions asked. She again lines it up, looks at the hole, at putts... perfect speed, downhill by the way, she leaves it about a foot left. Taps it in. I am hoping for some lessons at a discounted rate sometime next week. I've got to get my pride/manhood/ego back.

Please Remain Calm, This Is Only A Test...

Yes Sir, 3 days in a row...

So I took my big test that I have been avoiding/rescheduling for the last 4 months. The test is adaptive so if you answer the question right, you get a harder question; if you answer the question wrong, you get an easier one etc… There are a total of 205 questions with a minimum of 85 (if you do really well, or you really suck – the test ends early). So I got to 85 and braced myself for the end but, it didn’t come. I kept answering question after question until finally, at number 178 the test stopped.

I looked up my score online today and found out that, just like Tommy Callihan's D+, I passed. I am not sure how, but I now have an active LPN license. Pretty much you are all jealous of me because I can now go to a hospital and clean up human fecal matter (sometimes still warm) and get paid to do so.

I am still unsure about when and where I will be working in the next month. I talked to the HR director at Mtn. View and he said that as of right now neither Mtn. View nor Timp were currently hiring LPNs, so... we will see if I will even work as an LPN or what, but don’t worry – I will keep you all up to date. I am on a roll at this posting thing. Believe it.

Adding Fuel To The Fire...

If this isn’t the most fitting follow-up post ever, I don’t know what is…

First off, I vote that all shoe companies should get together at a big BBQ and resize all their shoes so that they are all the same. I hate that a 12 in Nike in too small, but ok in Adidas etc… On top of that whole issue is that fact that my feet, although beautiful and never stinky, are both too big and too little. My shoe size is a 12.5. Is that a crime? No. I swear there are no stores in the county that order this size. I am too lazy and impatient to order a pair online, so I am forced to squeeze into a 12 or flop around in a 13. I hate it. Boo-hoo-hoo, I know that you all care.

Anyway, back on track…

I just finished fueling my growing addiction/problem. How, you ask? Well, as you probably already guessed – I bought some golf shoes. I will test them out tomorrow morning bright and early. I am hoping that they cut like 10 strokes off my game, but I am not counting on it (go ahead and re-read my Michael J. Fox post and insert shoes instead of a SUMO driver). Anyway – I will be sure to post my score and let you know how it went.

Oh, and these are the shoes that I bought for $55 bones (tax included). Size 12 – and they fit pretty well. They are just a smidge tight around the metatarsal-digit joints. They had another pair that I really liked - Nikes for $45, but they only had size 12 (too small), no size 13’s (that would have been perfect). So… your mom.

Holy Ridiculously Long Time Without Posting, Batman...

Wow. Welcome back, me. So I would like to confess to you all about an addiction that I have been struggling with for quite some time. This addiction started even before the first power outage here at the ranch. This addiction has caused me to give up the essential and basic things that are essential to sustaining life. I have given up money, I have given up sleep, and I have given up food. Yes, I have a problem… but I like it.

This problem is golf. Golf has, in one way or another, kept me from faithfully posting on what should now be known as the ‘wheretheresghosttown’ blog. But I have ripped myself away for these brief moments, to update you.

My problem is not just that I golf every once in a while. It is Wii golf, it is real golf, and now it is golf on the XBOX. I have even started walking. Yes, you read right – walking.

Anyway, Ash got me a pass for a buy one get one free at Gladstan and it has been on ever since father’s day. On top of that, I splurged and bought ‘Tiger Woods PGA Tour 06’ for the XBOX for a grand total of $5.38. By the way – it is sweet.

So for all of you that are upset right now or thinking that this is long overdue - you are just jealous that I play golf in one form or another for like 3 hours a day, easy.

Welcome to the 1700's...

Ok, I have been compelled to post about this. I am doing this not from home, but from another computer. Why? All in good time…

I would like to start out by thanking one of my good friends Benjamin Franklin. After all, he is credited for discovering electricity. Without him I would not be able to watch television, play XBOX, blog, stay cool in the summer, or do many other things that require electricity.

I always thought that electricity would be there for me. Many of you know that Ashley and I have not always lived out in the boonies. We once lived in the middle of a city filled with springs, it was a good time. We were there for a bit more than 3 years. The electricity went out on us once. It sucked. However, it was nothing compared to what I would later have to later endure after moving to far, far away.

We have now been in our current residence for about 8 months. Now, take a guess at how many times the electricity has gone out. Go ahead… 3? 4? No. Six. Six freaking times. It is ridiculous. The latest time this happened (before today – that is why I am posting from somewhere other than my house - no electricity) I was playing FIFA. I thought, ‘ok, no big deal, I’ll just turn on the TV and see… er, well, maybe I’ll just go check the blogs… er.’ Then I start to panic. What am I supposed to do for entertainment? Read? Play with Tyler? Go for a walk? Don’t be crazy. Every time it happens feel like I live in the 1700’s. We have to find and light some candles and some lamps and wait until the problem is fixed.

Of course, I exaggerate. The problem is usually fixed in a relatively timely manner. I just can’t believe that it happens so often. What is going on here?

Anyway, I had to let you all know. There are benefits of living far away from the freeway, far away from grocery stores, far away from golf courses, and far away from civilization. Just a fair warning to you all – you will also be far away from electric efficiency.

Well, I guess that answers that question...

What question, you ask? The last one I asked myself on the previous post. Seriously. I am going to go look for some super glue. For the record - the week they lasted was great.

Corneal Warming...

My fellow Americans,

I post today about the latest and possibly greatest global threat out there. What could that be, you ask? I will tell you one thing that is NOT a threat - global warming. Global warming doesn't even exist, but that will have to wait. The real threat is called corneal warming.

It all started yesterday. I was in Delta doing some work as the sun beat down relentlessly. I think the temp. got up to like 88 degrees. I know - but wait - it gets worse... after I was done with the work that had to be done (finish your chores and then you can play), I found it appropriate to test out the local golf course. For those of you who are wondering - it was not wonderful (don't believe what you read online, 'some of the best fairways and greens in the state' my butt). Anyway, the sun continued to beat down. I then headed home and found it appropriate to hit the links again. This time at Gladis and Stanley's. The back 9. It was sweet, but not really cold. After that, I played in 2 softball games. Of course we won both. So, it was a pretty awesome day. By the way - after all that - my wife still loves me, I asked her.

So by the end of the day I felt as if the sun had personally picked me to torment and torture. Rays of the sun, which usually heat the entire planet were focused solely on me, and in particular, my corneas. I got home and asked Ash if she would perform minor ophthalmic surgery on my left eye. I had a trifecta of problems. 1- corneal warming had burned my eyeballs. 2- I had an inverted eyelash. 3- light colored eyes (blue) are more sensitive to light. Although I have a built in brim on my skull (Ri-bone knows what I mean - the protruding brow) it's not quite enough to shield my eyes. So my eyes are already preheated to the point that I am worried that my aqueous humor is about to boil, melt away my corneas from the inside, ooze down my face, and scar me for life. On top of that I have this pesky inverted eyelash that is scraping off layer by layer of sclera.

Thanks to Ash, I made it through the night to see another day. I then decided that it was time to fight back in the war of corneal warming. How much was I willing to sacrifice? What is the price that I was willing to pay to protect myself and my eyes from this epidemic? $5.38 at Wal-mart. 100% UV protection never looked, or felt so good.

Note: Those of you living in Arizona, New Mexico, or other states in which the temp is already 115 and above - you may want to wear you shades inside. You will get double the protection and you will be freaking hard at the same time.

Note 2: I payed $5.38 for my shades - what is the difference between the plastic on my sunglasses and the plastic on sunglasses that cost like 100-200 bones? I don't get it...

Sorry to do this...

but even I am tired of seeing that same post each time I've checked your blog--it's getting old.

Honey, next time you want to pick up that Wii paddle or the XBOX controller think of your lonely blog and that the blungle is missing you.

And yes, I remembered your sign in. Love you!

One of those days you HAVE to remember... or else...

Happy 25th Birthday Ashley. I love you.

Hey Shawn Marion - Michael J. Fox Called, He Wants His Jumper Back...

Who can forget the memorable role that Michael J. Fox played in "Teen Wolf"? That's right, no one. Who can forget how terrible he looked when he attempted to shoot and dribble the basketball? No one. Just like Charlie Sheen trying to throw a baseball in "Major League" there have been many an actor that has taken an athletic role and not done all that well.

Now, picture Mr. Fox playing basketball. It looks bad, really bad. That is because he is really bad. But, what if - just what if Mr. Fox were to put on a brand new pair of MJ IV's? He might not even have needed to turn into a werewolf to dominate the court. Just the act of him putting on those shoes could have propelled his game to new heights. He could have, in all reality become Michael J. Jordan.

Or not.

He probably would continue to look as foolish as he did. The shoes probably would not improve his jumper, his ball handling skills, or his overall basketball aura. I am, however, positive that those shoes would have given him a boost in one two key aspects. 1 - He would look like a BDass, and 2 - He would know that he looked like a BDass.

Now, what the heck does that matter?

Well, my fellow U.S. Americans not of the Iraq therefore such as, you all can call me Tiger from now on. That's right. Thanks to my new favorite President of the United States (George W.), I will be sporting a Nike Sumo Square Head Driver (8.5 degree) from now on. Will it cut 20 strokes off my game? Will I hit every fairway off the tee box? Will my swing be perfect? The answer to these questions is... No, Guaranteed. But, I will look pretty good pulling that bad boy out of my bag until I swing it.

I am actually pretty pumped to give it a whirl. I swung it a few times today at a few different stores before I pulled the trigger and bought it. Just consider this your warning: beat downs were included with the purchase. I will start distributing them tomorrow... hopefully.

Some of you may think that I was foolish to just throw money that I didn't earn away for a golf club - let me just say shame on you. I am only trying to fulfill my duty as a citizen of this great country. The economy needs a boost - and as long as I get money for nothing - I will spend some. Believe it. Don't worry mother, some is going into savings, sheesh.

Fresh as a Daisy...

You all might wonder what in the world this is. No, Tyler does not have severe diarrhea while potting training using Tupperware. Let me explain...

You may have all read that I was going to the range to 'tighten up' my swing. I had a couple theories that I though might give me that extra boost that I need. I thought that I could go and try a couple things out and add some distance and maybe even straighten out my shot. Unfortunately, I was wrong. After testing out my theory, I found out that pretty much no matter what I do, I am not Tiger Woods, no, I am not even Ranger Rick.

So, I came home and decided that I needed to rekindle the friendship that I once had with my clubs. You might even say I had a PGCI (personal golf club interview) with each individual club. I taught them about the game of golf - what was supposed to happen, some of the commandments that they needed to follow, and the joy that could be felt when achieving a birdie. They were golden investigators, and they all decided to change their ways, become converted to good golf, and be washed and cleaned in my kitchen. Thus, we see the filth and the sin that was washed from them into the Tupperware of hot, soapy water.

Now, I just have to talk to my swing.

Calling All Clones...

As all of you should know, this Friday is a very important day. As is customary every year, the smack-off is coming to a radio near you. It is this Friday. 10:00-1:00 mountain standard time. You may tune in on either AM 1280 or AM 700 here in the valley. "I have to work" is no excuse. As Rome suggests - start coughing around the boss tomorrow - kick it up a notch on Thursday with the 'feeling sick', and then BAM - call in sick Friday and plan around it. Check for the affiliate near you at jimrome.com if you need to. For those of you who don't know - it will be awesome. For more info, listen to this, or check it out at the previous address.

A few side notes -

This post will now push the infamous "Spicy Buns" post off of my blog. Can't say I haven't been looking for an excuse to get rid of that thing.

Took my final today - I am done, and happy. Not a coincidence.

Ate at Bajio today as well. Had the Mexican Pizza. The flauta still reigns supreme. Followed by the stuffed quesadilla, pizza, and then the burrito/chimi. Sorry Ri-too pansy to eat the best Bajio. Also - new Bajio in AF. The theory holds true - new Bajios pile on the fixins. So good.

Called out of retirement...

Yes, it's true. My mad flag football skills have paid off once more. How? Well, let me tell you. Monday I was driving around (working) when I got a call from a long lost friend. Let's call him Nick. You all know him. Anyway, he proceeded to tell me that his flag football team was in the tourney and that they needed my help. He said he was going on vacation and that I should take his spot. After much discussion, I agreed.

Fast forward to tonight. I get to the field and receive the "prodigal son has returned" and the "look who came out of retirement" and everything else I was expecting. After last nights debacle - their minor jabs were nothing.

So I ask, "how have you guys done against the teams we are playing?" They went 1-1 and 0-2. The first team - you may know them as 'game over' - you remember the Paris Hilton rat wannabe dog that I blogged about so long ago - yep... it was there. Too bad we handed it to them. Once again, game over for game over. They were actually pretty cool this time, though.

OK, back to the important stuff. We end up winning the championship. Yes, I know. The team that served 2 consecutive beat downs to my previous team was overtaken in a barn burner.

Now, I would just like to point something out here. The combined record against these 2 teams during the regular season was 1-3. With me there, it was 2-0. Now I don't want to give myself too much credit, but can you say X factor? That's what I thought. Don't worry about how Alan is a freaking stud and Peer bone is crazy good. I accept full credit for the win. My 0 sacks, 0 receptions, 0 touchdowns, 0 yards, and 0 knockdown definitely pushed the team on to victory (for the record I did have a number of tackles and some hurries resulting in incomplete passes).

Oh, and by the way - can anybody see anything wrong with the above picture? A 55 yard line? Since when has there EVER been a 55 yard line? And how can that apostasy be on the cover of a play book? "OK Billy, here's what you are going to do: run a post to the 55 yard line - I'll get you the ball." How is that going to work?

Now Hold On...

My fellow Americans...

Wow. That came out wrong. I have gone and edited the previous post. I have added a bit of explaination. For some reason I feel that the damage has been done and deleting the entire thing will not really undo anything, so... it is what it is. I blame the media. Even my wife threw me under the bus. I applaud team awesome for their swift and decisive disses. I would expect nothing less. My only wish is that I could have somehow been on the attack instead of getting, truly, murdered by text.

Right now I am trying to imagine your (Dr. P, Tikes, and Ri-Bone) faces the next time I see you all. I can imagine you laughing and me standing there like... uh... ya... you know what I meant. This is going to suck for a long, long time.

Caution: Extreme Disgust Ahead...

Lies, deception, deceit, filth, imposterness, poserness, and grossness. They are all adjectives for Wendy's new spicy barfinator. It was that bad. You all know that I am in love with the Jalapeno Burger from Carl's Jr. and that I love a little spice between my [hamburger] buns (on the way in (my mouth) - not on the way out [my butt - pooping flames]- OK, OK, I know what you are all thinking or have thought (and commented) about. What I said, in not so many words, was I like spicy hamburgers. I like to eat hamburgers with jalapenos on them. They are spicy and the meat and jalapenos are between hamburger buns. I do not like to poop fire. Therefore, I like spice (spicy hamburgers) in my mouth - I don't like spice on the way out (As Dr. P) commented on his blog - it sucks when your pooping molten hot lava = anyway.... So I am always on the lookout to prove that the JB from Carl's is the best. It has once again been proven.

Why did I wait so long to try the spicy grease glob burger? I tried the original baconator many moons ago and nearly died from atherosclerosis. My arteries were clogged 35% within 5 minutes. Even I thought that it was too much bacon. Did I finish it? Of course, but I will never try it again. So with the past experience I was very hesitant to try the new one. But the temptation was too strong. I succumbed. The fall was great indeed, my friends.

The bun was soggy with grease. No joke. The jalapenos were just hot. No taste - I HATE that - all it means is low quality jalapenos. How dare they?! The kicker is that they put this sauce on it that has no business being on a burger or anything that is going to come in contact with the human tongue or near the chemo receptors in the nasal passage. I only say this to let you all know that if you go to Wendy's in the near future, the only things worth your moolah are the JBC, Spicy Chicken, and the taco salad. That is pretty much it. Again, did I finish it? Yes. But I didn't like it.

Just Don't Pull a Memphis...

The end is in sight. I can almost taste its deliciousness. That is right. I finished writing my last paper today. I cooped myself up at the UVSC (soon to be UVU if they haven't crammed it down your throat already) library at got 'er done. It ended up a 26 page monster about Pancreatitis. My advise to you is this: don't drink your liver and pancreas away. It will hurt, burst, and bleed internally everywhere. You will get an infection, respiratory problems, or develop some other complication and die. Just an FYI. So tomorrow is my last clinical and the final is on the 22nd. Yes, that is only a mere 15 days from now. I know that you are as pumped as I am. My scholarly goal has now morphed from "Study and get good scores" to "just don't choke it away, dude."

Guitar Hero and Golf... get ready 'cause I'm coming for you.

And Ashley and Tyler - I am looking forward to being home a bit more, too.

Clinical Update...

For those of you who don't know - that is an IV syringe. That is what health care professionals and health care not so professionals get to poke you with whenever we find it necessary. Pretty sweet, huh? I was in the ER for my clinical today - don't worry - no bloody trauma stories. I did, however, go a perfect 3 for 3 on IV insertions. Yes, I was en fuego. I did my first before shift change for Pete's sake - talk about walking in ready to roll. It was awesome. There is nothing quite like seeing the blood flush back into the syringe. It's a beautiful thing.

Also of note - we had a lottery type thing last time in class and we picked where we would do our preceptorship or mini residency type deal for clinical next year. I got my #1 choice - Mt. View Hospital ICU. I was pretty excited about that. Hopefully by the time I become a nurse in December I will be competent enough to help people more than hurt them. Baby steps...

My adventure in the "Big City"

I am currently in the process of scheduling my LPN test. This process consists of 3 steps.

1. Register online. This is easy and convenient - as it should be, it's 2008 for crying out loud. Total price in U.S. dollars to complete step 1... $200. Yep. Lame.

2. Print out the application to take the test, fill it out by hand, and run it by the DOPL in Salt Lake. Lame. What happened to the Internet? Anyway... I get around to driving downtown in SLC to drop off the application. I find the address easily enough and it hits me... "Oh crap - I'm going to have to pay for parking." I should have known way before I got there. I don't have any change on me for a meter. I think to myself that maybe, just maybe there will be a parking lot where people can park to take care of government business. I get to the other side of the block and bingo - nice parking lot. I go to turn in to read a sign that said,

"We, the owners of this property are Gay. We know that hundreds of people are forced to park here everyday and we choose take your money -ha ha. Does the government or anyone else care? The answer is no, in fact - they enjoy it as we give them a cut. Your mom."

Ok, so it really said "You must take a ticket, blah, blah, blah... hourly rates, blah, blah blah..."

Anyway, so I park, find an ATM, withdraw $20 (for a fee - of course) and run in to turn in my application. Oh, and a check for $95. Ya. Lame. Got my fingerprints taken for a background check (good thing I am not a felon like some of you are). I then proceed to my car and leave after paying the weirdo in the booth $3 for the 15 minutes I occupied that space.

I then get the wonderful opportunity of driving for an hour and a half to get home. I then take 4 quizzes and decide to go past the point of procrastination to just turning things in late. The paper that is due tomorrow is just going to have to wait until Wednesday. Good thing the semester is winding down. I don't know how much more gas I have - or how much more I can afford with these trips to Salt Lake.

Oh, step 3 - schedule a time to take the test. By the way, the testing center is in Draper. Lame.

Anybody have a Kleenex I can use?

My unfruitful (sort of) search...

For class there are a certain number of movies that we can watch for credit. One of these is "Wit". We saw a few clips in class on Thursday and it looked pretty good, so I decided to rent it. It was, however, not as easy as running to the local blockbuster. I first called home and asked my dear sweet wife to do all the work for me. She later confirmed that neither the blockbuster nor Hollywood video had it. She suggested UVSC's library at which I replied, "Ya, I was going to go on Monday, but if I could get it earlier blah, blah, blah." So I'm on my way home when I have an Epiphany. Why don't I check the Payson City Library. I decide to stop on the way home.

For those of you that heard the 'twilight zone' story - go ahead and skip the next few paragraphs.

So I get to Payson and Main st is closed. I notice a bunch of hay and flags and roosters and there is some band with "B" in their chests and a big bus in the middle of the road. I now start to think that there is some band competition going on and that there are a bunch of people here standing around waiting for it to begin in the park maybe?

But it just got worse. I go up one side of the street looking for the library. All I see in the shop windows are things like 'Sheriff Dept.' and post office when I know that they are not really there. I go down the other side of the street and now am thoroughly confused. I look down the street to the north - Norm's is still there. I look to the south - the park is still there. Where am I? I swear it hasn't been that long since I have been there. I decide to call for back-up. Yep, I called your mom.

I explain my predicament and she starts laughing. She explains that they are shooting a movie and that I should go in the back door. She calls me a retard (not really but her laughing at me did) and told me that she would get the movie from BYU's library. She did. Thanks, mom. I love you too.

Oh, and I met some crazy lady that was watching me the whole time. She said something about reading my brother's blog and then just went away. Ya, I know. Kinda scary. Blog stalkers are real and they are in P-town. Just kidding - it wasn't weird. After all. I am one of the 4 cornerstones of team awesome. Who doesn't know who we are?

Does a Bear Take a... / One Crappy Day...

OK, so I had clinical again today. Yes, you will hear all about my clinical as my usual day consists of driving to work - driving around - and driving home. So anyway...

Here we are at the nurses station (most of the ladies) are gabbing about making "cute" things for their babies (3 pregnant nurses on the floor - holy moley J-Stew). Anyway, a call light turns on and the phone rings. Since it is one of our patients, the nurse picks it up, "May we help you? ... Ok, we'll be right in." I inquire "what's up?" She says, "she (the patient) needs some help getting to her bed from the bathroom". I think, no problem, help her get across the tiny little room, sit, and then lay down, adjust the bed, we are in and out in 30 seconds. Boy was I wrong.

My first clue as to how wrong I was happened as my nurse opened the door to the patients room. Did I see something out of the ordinary? No. Did I hear anything that would alarm me? No. Did I smell a stench so strong that it brought back thoughts of Jurassic Park 3 looking for a cell phone in a pile of dinosaur poo as if I were bobbing for apples? Yes. It was bad. I knew at that moment that we were in for it.

At this point we are 2 feet inside the door and the patient matter of factly says "I didn't make it". I take 3 more steps and peer into the bathroom... There is poo all over the toilet seat. Seriously all over. It was gross. But wait - there is more. There was poo all over the wall and all over the floor. How it actually got there remains a mystery. All I know is that the patient was promptly escorted directly into the shower to be sprayed off. It was all over the bed as well. So... you can take it from there. By the way - the patient had milk of magnesia a little earlier than when our shift started - she had diarrhea all shift long. Awesome. Welcome to nursing.

Ok, now for a second story. Yes. A second one. I get home and all is going great. I decide just before dinner that I will play with T-slob for a bit. I pick him up and put him up on my shoulders piggy-back and flip him over and what not. After a while I put him on my head and shake my head back and forth real fast in the act of tickling him. All is well, until... I pull him off the top of my head and he kinda rubs against my face. His shorts are a bit wet.

I think fast... oh no - did he spill some water or sit in some spilled water? He did just take a bath... or even worse - he may have peed through his diaper. I voice my concern to Ashley. She comes over as I am holding slobs at arms length. Ash checks his diaper. She finds that poo has exploded out the left leg hole of his diaper and down to his ankle, soaking his shorts. That's right. I had poo juices on my face. Welcome to parenthood.

CPR or CRP?

Ok, so I had a clinical on Tuesday in the Cardiac ICU, as stated earlier on this very blog. Anyways... it went quite well. In fact, I had quite an experience. The nurse I was with was caring for 2 patients. One of these patients was really fat and lazy and never moved. This fat, lazy patient needed surgery (Coronary Artery Bypass x3 to be exact) but was turned down because he was lazy and didn't move. It is impossible to recover from a surgery if you don't move. So they sent him to the cath lab to put stents in his Coronaries instead of bypassing them. So...

Here we are in the cath lab watching a routine procedure. There is the physician, the scrub, another guy helping out, and the lab tech that I was with back in the watching/monitoring/documenting area. Suddenly we see the patients heart stop. Yes, it stopped. Just like on the movies.

The tech sitting next to me in charge of documenting (a 10 year Resp. Therapist turned cath lab dude) jumps up and yells "He's blocked!" and runs into the lab. At this point 2 things happen. 1) I jump out of my seat and look around waiting for someone to tell me what to do, and 2) realize that CPR (cardio pulmonary resuscitation) should really be called CRP (crap right in you pants). I did not do this, however. [see previous notes on Dr. P's blog about emergent situations and pucker factors].

The tech that ran out of the room started to hook up the defibrillator while a tech from the next room ran in and started CPR. Ya. The scrub points at me and starts asking for various items from the shelves that he cannot grab because he is sterile (not that he can't have kids - he has gloves and gown and everything on). I gladly comply.

Soon enough the patient re-stabilized and everything was semi-back to normal. The techs muttering about how this patient shouldn't even be here, etc... I am back in my position with the tech monitoring when the physician says, "get RT in here - we're going to need CPR." The tech sitting there looks at me, "go do CPR." I put down my bagel and say, "uh, ok." and run out and start compressions. RT arrives shortly and intibates the patient. This equals me not doing mouth-to-mouth. I know you are all disappointed, but I did do compressions. Was it awesome? Yes. More techs and the nurse started filing in to help. CPR was stopped and I was asked to 'bag' the patient. For those you not named Dr. P. this means deflate the bag of oxygen that will be delivered to the non-breathing patient (this is a continuous deal). Was it awesome? Yes.

As I am sitting there breathing for the patient, an external pace maker was inserted as was a swan-ganz catheter. Very cool. Hadn't seen that done. Finally, the patient was transferred back to the CCU. After about an hour, the patient was stable, sedated, but stable. I drew some labs from the art line and swan-ganz, and continued to help my nurse. Was it awesome? Yes.

So, that was really long, and Dr. P bags patient every day, but this was my first experience and I thought I would share it with whomever cares. It was a bit long, but there were some details left out. Hope you all made it this far.

If you are still reading and you don't really care about any of this... I ate at Tucanos today. You are all jealous.

Better Cover Up Your Keyboard...

I don't want you to drool all over and get the keys all wet. Yes, the Jalapeno Burger from Carl's Jr. is the best burger out there. It is a perfect concoction of bun, beef, and fixins. These include lettuce, tomato, onion, jalapenos, pepper jack cheese, and Santa Fe sauce. Can it get better than that? No. I have tried. I have searched far and wide for the best fast-food burger out there and I am here to crown the champion. There you have it.

For those of you that are worried about your tongues exploding from just the mention of jalapenos - do not fear. The Santa Fe sauce (I believe) has mayo in it. Now since I have a fair amount of experience with the combination of mayo and peppers I will share with you. When you mix mayo and peppers on a sandwich, the mayo dulls the spicy right out the pepper and you get the luscious flavor of the jalapeno. It is so good. Is there a kick? Yes, however, it is very slight. You can handle it.

I choose not to go into detail about what happens or how it feels when your large intestine is through absorbing the nutrients from the jalapeno burger. I will warn you that the mayo no longer has the effect of dulling the spice. But, it is still worth it.

There you have it. My ode to Carl's Jr. and their best burger. I think I average 2.6 of these bad boys a week. All you need to order is: Double Jalapeno Burger Combo -- medium size -- Dr. Pepper. That will be the best $7.29 you ever spent. You're welcome.

By the way - I like the Double Jalapeno Burger the best, but here is the nutritional info for the Six Dollar Jalapeno Burger: Calories - 1010, Carbs - 52 grams, Protein - 39 g, Fat - 72 grams, Saturated Fat - 26 grams, Cholesterol - 150 mg, and Sodium - 2070. Roughly that means two things: 1) for every burger you eat, you lose 10 months off your life, and 2) they are freaking good.

Since 2001?

Have iPods really been around for that long? The answer is yes. I am just glad to finally come around. This valentine's day started about as awesomely as any day could. Class. But wait, it got better - after class I went to work. But it really did get better.

Long story short - Ash got me (out of nowhere) an 80 gig black video iPod and I love it. Apparently she really does like Valentine's day, and you know what --- I like it too.

So FYI, I have like 65 gigs left to fill if you have any suggestions... I have spent the last 3 days converting my Media Player music library into the iTunes compatability.

Oh, and as for Nelly Furtado... I've got it. Well, not the album, just her recent hit. I just listen for the beat though. I don't listen to the words. Does anyone really believe that?

Warning: Not Funny...

OK, here is the deal. This post may not interest anybody besides Colby, but I have no choice. I have to post about something - so here goes... I recently aquired my clinical schedule for this semester. I am pleased to announce to you all that I am actually looking forward to going to the hospital. I know, that sounds crazy, but after hearing about my set up this semester and comparing it to the mother/baby rotation I had to go through last semester - ya, that's what I thought.

Ok, so I start off with 2 weeks at Primary Children's - my first day I saw alot of RSV and a lot of tubes stuck up noses to pull out excess boogers. It was ok. Next week I will be in the PICU (Pediatric Intensive Care Unit). We walked through it last week and all the patients had seriously like 12 IV pumps going... that is insane. But that is not really what I am looking forward to...

This semester at UVRMC (not my choice of hospitals - but that is where we all are) I will spend 3 days in the CCU (Cardiac Care Unit). I understand that this is where the critically ill heart patients are. This will be very interesting. Dr. P worked there or on a similar floor at the U I believe? Anyway, I am really excited. I will also work on the telemetry floor which I think is like a Med/Surg but still with heart problems. I will also be at the wound care clinic for a day and somewhere else for a day, I can't remember where.

Now, just so you all know - if I could have chosen where I could go - I would have chosen where I am going. Did that make sense? I hope that I can be of some assistance to the nurses that I will be shadowing there. Doc P, any suggestions on what I can expect to see or expect to do or need to know? That would be great. I think that I would like to work somewhere like this. I am not sure because, obviously, I haven't been there, but cardiac is awesome.

So there is your update. Super funny, right? I know.

War the Patriots getting beat down. War Tom Brady getting ''put to the ground" all game. War Bill not being the genius that everyone said he is. I loved every second. Oh, and war the 7-layer bean dip that my superstar wife made. It was crawling with tomatoes. So freaking good. One more - War my mother-in-law telling me that I am a bad influence for watching the superbowl. I told her to just embrace the whole experience. Maybe I should post that story?

The Spirit of the Blog Like a Fire is Burning...

Is there anything that the blog can't do? I don't think so. A quick example...

Last week I gave the lesson in Elders quorum. It just so happened to be my first time teaching in Elders quorum ever. It also happened to be ward conference. It just so happened that the stake president was there for the lesson. And it just so happened to be the first time I have given a lesson on a conference talk. The talk was Elder Eyring's "O Remember, Remember" that he just gave this last conference in October. It is he speaks of writing things down to remember them. What do I do? The stake President is there, it is my first time, the pressure is mounting... where can I go? What can I do?

When suddenly, like a flash of light from the sky, I think - THE BLOG! That is right, I talked about how we should all have blogs and how awesome they are and how awesome my blog is and how everyone awesome I know has a blog that is almost as awesome as mine. Yep. I really did.

Mom, don't worry. I talked about other spiritual stuff too, but I even brought a quote from the blog. Tikes - it was part of your 'blogamony' thanks for that. It was sweet.

By the way... you may be wondering what the President's reaction was to all of this... well... after the lesson he asked me, "So, how permanent is a blog?"

Let me translate for you --- I am converted to the power of the blog and want a piece of that sweet action.

War the blogs coming through in the clutch. War blogs being a good and being nice. War me preaching blogs in ward conference and getting away with it.