Yesterday, on Christmas, I asked for Leah's eternal hand in marriage. She said "Yes!"
The story of our proposal begins last Thursday. I had recently prayed if Leah was the woman I was supposed to marry, but the answer I received was "Go to the temple and ask there." So, on Thursday night I went to the Washington, DC Temple and participated in an endowment session. Once in the Celestial Room, I prayed again, this time receiving a resounding "Yes." I knew that I wanted to propose, but I didn't know how or when.
Leah works part-time at Victoria's Secret and I visited her on Christmas Eve so we could hang out during her break. She took the opportunity to show me off to her coworkers, one of whom even said "He's cute" while I was standing right there. We enjoy the thirty minutes we had together before she had to return to work.
With Leah safely inside the boutique de brasserie, I walked down to one of the jewelry stores in the mall. Soon after meeting me, Leah had picked out a few engagement rings and put them in the store's "Wish Book." When we started talking about the possibility of marriage while we were dating, she told me about the store and told me to choose one of the options there—in order to ensure that she liked the ring I picked out. With this in mind, I went to the jewelry store to see what the options were, intending to not buy anything that day. When I saw what the options were—and heard that the entire store's inventory was half off until Christmas—I picked the one I liked and bought it on the spot. I planned to wait until the holidays were over, in order to really surprise Leah.
With the ring hidden on my person, I went to Leah's parents' home to bake cookies. Leah's mom, Debbie, is very warm and invited me to come and bake cookies with her some time before Christmas and Christmas Eve just happened to be the best time for me to visit. Also there were Leah's younger brother, Ryan, and his wife Dana, her younger sisters, Megan and Allison, and Leah's niece, Rebecca, the daughter of Leah's older brother, Rob, who's currently stationed in the Philippines. At one point, everyone went outside to fire model rockets (a Grabowski Christmas tradition), so I went in to talk to Leah's father, Ulf. I told him that I loved his daughter and intended to ask her to marry me, though not until the holidays were over. He told me that he was a good judge of character and that he liked me and would be happy to give me his blessing on the proposal. Having gained his permission (and his promise to keep our conversation a secret), I went back outside to join with the rocket launches before my absence was noticed. After a few hours, Leah joined us and I continued to bake cookies (only four kinds surprisingly, but we did have rockets to launch). Before it got too late, I excused myself for the night, with the promise to return on Christmas day.
On Christmas morning, I went to church at the YSA ward, though only Sacrament meeting was held (which I think was the standard throughout the Church). After church, Leah met me at my apartment where we opened our gifts. I got her some leggings (which required me to join a Facebook group in order to buy them), a charm for her charm bracelet, and a pair of crocheted slipper socks. She got a nice pea coat, a deep fryer (which she admitted was partially for her so I can deep fry her food more easily), a ceramic coated skillet, a spoon rest for the stove, a butter dish (which I've mentioned that I needed), and a Superman-themed apron. (I also got a set of silicon baking mats from my parents—have you noticed a theme?) Having exchanging gifts (and hugs and kisses), we prepared to leave for her parents' for an early dinner.
Even though I planned to wait until after the holidays were over, I was too excited to wait any longer: I had decided the night before to propose on Christmas Day. I said I needed go to the bedroom to grab my wallet and keys, so Leah went with me to help me along. I made a comment about how there were other things I needed and she gave me a weird look and went back to the living room. I put the ring box in my back pocket and joined Leah. I grabbed her in a hug and said (not verbatim), "Leah, I love you. I'm so happy that I met you. My life has gotten so much better since I met you." I got down on one knee. "You've made me a better man and I know that as long as you're a part of my life, my life will only get better." I pulled the box out of my pocket and opened it. "Leah, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife, now and for all eternity?" She enthusiastically said, "Yes!" I slipped the ring on her finger (and had a mini freakout when I thought it didn't fit, though it was the perfect size) and we embraced and kissed.
On our way to Leah's parents', we called and told a few members of my family (not everyone was available, what with the time differences). Once at the Grabowski's, Leah didn't say anything, she just took off her jacket and gave her mom a hug. During their hug, Debbie felt the ring, pulled Leah's hand into view, and screamed with joy. With the cat out of the bag, she showed off the ring to her family and we both got hugs from everyone present.
I am so happy to be getting married to Leah. She's such a kind, caring person who works to make others feel better about themselves. We've only been together for four months, but we make a great team: I love her, she loves me, and we build each other up. I can't wait to be sealed to her for time and all eternity.
Monday, December 26, 2016
Tuesday, November 15, 2016
Monday, November 14, 2016
Results
So, Donald Trump is the new president. You may recall that I predicted that this very thing would never happen. I’m mature enough to admit that I was wrong, though that’s not the purpose of this post. Instead, I’d like to offer my thoughts about the recent election, including the results.
First, as I already mentioned, I didn’t support either candidate. I felt that both Donald Trump and Hilary Clinton were bad choices, so I voted for someone who I believed would do the best job, despite knowing that he had no real chance of succeeding. I feel good about my decision and I’m glad that I voted the way that I did.
Second, I was surprised that Trump won. Polls showed Clinton as the leader, though by a narrow margin. In addition to the polls, most media outlets mocked the Trump campaign and his supporters, leading many people—including me—to believe that while the election would be close, Clinton would be the victor. When Trump won, I think we were all caught off guard. However, that’s actually a bit inspiring. My boss, Magda, is originally from Poland and spent several years in Mexico. She’s seen her share of rigged elections and she thought that Trump’s success proved that the American election process was honest. As she put it, “It shows that the system works.” Despite my lack of support for the president-elect, I must admit that her words do give me hope.
Third, I think I understand where Trump supporters are coming from. When I served my mission in northern Ohio, I spent the majority of my time in more rural areas. I remember one town in particular that had once been a manufacturing hub with four different plants. By the time I visited, three of the plants had shut down and the third had slowed production. The town was dying and the residents didn’t know how to cope. I also remember meeting farmers who were using old, outdated equipment because, despite receiving government subsidies, they couldn’t afford to replace anything. Most (if not all) of Obama’s policies benefited the working poor and middle class in cities, not the country. After eight years of a president who they felt was ignoring them, the people who didn’t live in a major city wanted someone very different. While Trump certainly had supporters in urban communities, the majority of his success was with people out in the country.
Fourth, protests are happening in cities across the US because of Trump’s surprise victory. But what’s the end goal of those involved? This isn’t like other recent protests such as those condemning police brutality—in those cases, the protestors wanted to be treated better by police, something that should happen anyway. With the case of the new president-elect, the protestors are complaining about not getting their way. Besides that, Trump isn’t even president yet. He’s been elected, but he won’t be sworn in until early next year. Even if we don’t trust Trump, can’t we at least give our fellow Americans the benefit of the doubt for choosing him? And even if we can’t there’s nothing that can be done at this point. If he’s a bad president, he can be impeached, but there is no constitutional way to prevent him from taking office come January.
Finally, I was disappointed by how little respect Trump supporters got from the media. Not the man himself—Trump makes himself an easy target for ridicule—but the citizens who attended his rallies and put his signs in their front yards. They were depicted as dumb hicks and religious zealots who were too stupid to be reasoned with. The fact that they were mocked so much may have had a hand in the election’s outcome. While I haven’t heard of anyone saying that they voted for Trump as a way of protesting this mockery, I’m sure that at the very least it kept them from considering Clinton. I imagine one of these people watching Saturday Night Live, Last Week Tonight, or even The Tonight Show and hearing something to the equivalent of “Are you thinking about voting for Trump? Here’s a list of ways that you’re stupid.” That kind of rhetoric isn’t going to convince anyone that isn’t already on your side.
I do like some of the things I’ve seen (mostly on Facebook) where people are sharing the sentiment that we need to unite as a citizenry and respect each other and the way we voted. I didn’t vote for Trump and I don’t care for the man or his politics, but I believe in this country. America is not a bunch of rules and documents; it’s people who believe in each other and those who have gone before us. I believe in America and I hope that the rest of my brothers and sister in this, the greatest nation in the world, can share that faith with me.
First, as I already mentioned, I didn’t support either candidate. I felt that both Donald Trump and Hilary Clinton were bad choices, so I voted for someone who I believed would do the best job, despite knowing that he had no real chance of succeeding. I feel good about my decision and I’m glad that I voted the way that I did.
Second, I was surprised that Trump won. Polls showed Clinton as the leader, though by a narrow margin. In addition to the polls, most media outlets mocked the Trump campaign and his supporters, leading many people—including me—to believe that while the election would be close, Clinton would be the victor. When Trump won, I think we were all caught off guard. However, that’s actually a bit inspiring. My boss, Magda, is originally from Poland and spent several years in Mexico. She’s seen her share of rigged elections and she thought that Trump’s success proved that the American election process was honest. As she put it, “It shows that the system works.” Despite my lack of support for the president-elect, I must admit that her words do give me hope.
Third, I think I understand where Trump supporters are coming from. When I served my mission in northern Ohio, I spent the majority of my time in more rural areas. I remember one town in particular that had once been a manufacturing hub with four different plants. By the time I visited, three of the plants had shut down and the third had slowed production. The town was dying and the residents didn’t know how to cope. I also remember meeting farmers who were using old, outdated equipment because, despite receiving government subsidies, they couldn’t afford to replace anything. Most (if not all) of Obama’s policies benefited the working poor and middle class in cities, not the country. After eight years of a president who they felt was ignoring them, the people who didn’t live in a major city wanted someone very different. While Trump certainly had supporters in urban communities, the majority of his success was with people out in the country.
Fourth, protests are happening in cities across the US because of Trump’s surprise victory. But what’s the end goal of those involved? This isn’t like other recent protests such as those condemning police brutality—in those cases, the protestors wanted to be treated better by police, something that should happen anyway. With the case of the new president-elect, the protestors are complaining about not getting their way. Besides that, Trump isn’t even president yet. He’s been elected, but he won’t be sworn in until early next year. Even if we don’t trust Trump, can’t we at least give our fellow Americans the benefit of the doubt for choosing him? And even if we can’t there’s nothing that can be done at this point. If he’s a bad president, he can be impeached, but there is no constitutional way to prevent him from taking office come January.
Finally, I was disappointed by how little respect Trump supporters got from the media. Not the man himself—Trump makes himself an easy target for ridicule—but the citizens who attended his rallies and put his signs in their front yards. They were depicted as dumb hicks and religious zealots who were too stupid to be reasoned with. The fact that they were mocked so much may have had a hand in the election’s outcome. While I haven’t heard of anyone saying that they voted for Trump as a way of protesting this mockery, I’m sure that at the very least it kept them from considering Clinton. I imagine one of these people watching Saturday Night Live, Last Week Tonight, or even The Tonight Show and hearing something to the equivalent of “Are you thinking about voting for Trump? Here’s a list of ways that you’re stupid.” That kind of rhetoric isn’t going to convince anyone that isn’t already on your side.
I do like some of the things I’ve seen (mostly on Facebook) where people are sharing the sentiment that we need to unite as a citizenry and respect each other and the way we voted. I didn’t vote for Trump and I don’t care for the man or his politics, but I believe in this country. America is not a bunch of rules and documents; it’s people who believe in each other and those who have gone before us. I believe in America and I hope that the rest of my brothers and sister in this, the greatest nation in the world, can share that faith with me.
Tuesday, November 8, 2016
Poll Dancer
Today, I exercised my civic responsibility and voted. It was not only my first time voting in Maryland, it was my first time voting outside of California.
The polling place I was assigned to was a local Shriner's temple. After a bit of confusion on which room I was assigned (I was in the clubhouse, not the dining hall), I had my ballot. In addition to voting for Evan McMullin as a write-in presidential candidate, I voted on local matters, nearly all of which entailed Baltimore County borrowing money for civic works projects.
As I was leaving, I saw a mother with her daughter outside selling Girl Scout cookies. I was impressed with the cleverness of their location choice ("Feeling awful about the election? Drown your sorrows in sugar!"), so I bought a couple of boxes to share with the office.
To my surprise, I was feeling anxious as I drove to the polling place. I didn't know why I was feeling that way, but as I drove away feeling relieved, it was clear what the cause was. This election cycle has been terrible in so many ways and I'm just glad it's over.
Hopefully our country is strong enough to withstand whichever deplorable person makes it to the White House. Fingers crossed!
The polling place I was assigned to was a local Shriner's temple. After a bit of confusion on which room I was assigned (I was in the clubhouse, not the dining hall), I had my ballot. In addition to voting for Evan McMullin as a write-in presidential candidate, I voted on local matters, nearly all of which entailed Baltimore County borrowing money for civic works projects.
As I was leaving, I saw a mother with her daughter outside selling Girl Scout cookies. I was impressed with the cleverness of their location choice ("Feeling awful about the election? Drown your sorrows in sugar!"), so I bought a couple of boxes to share with the office.
To my surprise, I was feeling anxious as I drove to the polling place. I didn't know why I was feeling that way, but as I drove away feeling relieved, it was clear what the cause was. This election cycle has been terrible in so many ways and I'm just glad it's over.
Hopefully our country is strong enough to withstand whichever deplorable person makes it to the White House. Fingers crossed!
Wednesday, November 2, 2016
#IanandSherlin2016
This past weekend, my brother Ian married his fiancé Sherlin. Not everything was perfect, but it all came together when it mattered.
Leah met me at my apartment on Friday morning (both of us took the day off) and we took my car to Ian’s place. We weren’t there long before we caravanned to Ian’s ward building to prepare for the reception. After setting up the tables and about a dozen chairs, I noticed that the floor of the cultural hall was in need of vacuuming, so I volunteered myself for the task. While I vacuumed, Ian, Sherlin, Isaac, Falisha, and Leah worked on more intricate preparations like setting up the microphone and putting tablecloths on the tables. A lot of the decorations were customized by Sherlin and her friends, like the table banner with handwritten letters or the custom, machine-cut candle holders, making everything feel all the more unique.
In the evening, when we were supposed to be practicing at the chapel at Fort Meade, we stood around in the brisk air just outside. Due to a lack of communication and a severe case of absent-mindedness, the caretaker of the chapel key had failed to unlock the building for us. There was a lot of discussion over how long we should wait, but eventually it was decided that we would practice in the hall of the nearby commissary. We got plenty of odd looks as we lined up and practiced our entrances, but it helped us work out a few kinks, so I think it was worth it. After a few times through, we were done. Ian invited us back to his place for pizza, which I took him up on.
Since tradition dictates that the groom should not see his bride before she walks down the aisle, Ian stayed at my apartment, along with Isaac and Henry. I was very tired after all of the setting up we did, so I asked Ian to drive for me. Isaac rode shotgun, which put Leah and me in the backseat. It was a bit strange sitting in the back of my car for the first time, but it was nice to relax.
The following morning, after all of the Larsen men were dressed in our wedding finery, we drove back down to Ian’s ward building for a final bit of preparation. After the fiasco of not being able to get into the chapel on base, Ian planned ahead and got permission from his bishop to have the wedding ceremony there, just in case. He made sure that very few people even knew about the backup plan, but those who did were sworn to secrecy—he didn’t want to stress out Sherlin who had plenty of things on her plate already. Thankfully, the building was unlocked and we were able to proceed as planned.
The ceremony itself was lovely. While the words of the chaplain were nice, I really liked the individual vows that Ian and Sherlin wrote: they both included each other’s kids in their vows, promising their love to them as well. I looked over at the bridesmaids from my spot at the front of the line of groomsmen a few times and saw that all of them were tearing up. Needless to say, it was beautiful to see these two people dedicate themselves to each other.
After the wedding, the reception began. Most of the food had been prepared by Sherlin and it was delicious, as always. The cake was great too, despite the center tier (which I made) not being as structurally sound as hoped—still, it held up long enough to be cut, which is what really matters.
Iris gave her maid of honor speech, which was beautifully prepared. Then the groomsmen got up to deliver ours. Ian had decided that he wanted to have us play an improv game for our speech and had given us our instructions a few weeks prior: we would all stand in a line and say a single word each in succession, until we had each said six words (for a total of thirty-six words). When he gave us our assignment (via email), I immediately responded that he was being ridiculous. I had decided that I would just be as silly as possible and say “dinosaur” or “laser” at some point, but one of the more practical groomsmen just wrote a speech for us to use. Even though it defied Ian’s instructions to be spontaneous with our speech, I was happy to have something prepared. Another groomsman suggested that we just write our words on our hands and blatantly read them when we delivered the speech, which we did. Even so, we had to practice it a few times before the reception started, but it all worked out and I think that Ian appreciated the effort we made, even if didn’t follow all of his instructions.
Margot and Bryan sang a song that Sherlin had specifically chosen for the day. They did a wonderful job and sang the song beautifully. Then Sherlin and Ian shared their first dance.
Leah got involved, too. On the way to the ward building, she picked up washable markers to write on the windows of Ian's truck. She got Iris, Falisha, Margot, and Jen (Sherlin’s best friend) to help her with the decorating and I think it was a nice bonding experience for them all. I then worked to keep Ian away from his truck until they left for the evening. I’m sure Ian thought I was being very nice running out to his truck for things a few times, but I was mostly just keeping him inside. As for how the surprise went over, I can’t say. When it was time for the big reveal, I was busy wrangling my several nieces and nephews. Still, I suspect that they enjoyed it.
One important activity that happens at every wedding is the bouquet toss. Sherlin was very inclusive and invited all the women in the room to participate, regardless of marital status. Even with the big crowd, Leah caught the bouquet. Does that mean anything? We’ll have to wait and see.
I’m so happy for my brother and new sister-in-law. Marriage is tough and with them each coming from a failed one, it would be easy to swear off marriage entirely. But they knew what they wanted in a spouse and found it in each other. I wish them the best and look forward to many happy times with them and their children.
Congratulations, Ian and Sherlin!
Leah met me at my apartment on Friday morning (both of us took the day off) and we took my car to Ian’s place. We weren’t there long before we caravanned to Ian’s ward building to prepare for the reception. After setting up the tables and about a dozen chairs, I noticed that the floor of the cultural hall was in need of vacuuming, so I volunteered myself for the task. While I vacuumed, Ian, Sherlin, Isaac, Falisha, and Leah worked on more intricate preparations like setting up the microphone and putting tablecloths on the tables. A lot of the decorations were customized by Sherlin and her friends, like the table banner with handwritten letters or the custom, machine-cut candle holders, making everything feel all the more unique.
Preparations
In the evening, when we were supposed to be practicing at the chapel at Fort Meade, we stood around in the brisk air just outside. Due to a lack of communication and a severe case of absent-mindedness, the caretaker of the chapel key had failed to unlock the building for us. There was a lot of discussion over how long we should wait, but eventually it was decided that we would practice in the hall of the nearby commissary. We got plenty of odd looks as we lined up and practiced our entrances, but it helped us work out a few kinks, so I think it was worth it. After a few times through, we were done. Ian invited us back to his place for pizza, which I took him up on.
Since tradition dictates that the groom should not see his bride before she walks down the aisle, Ian stayed at my apartment, along with Isaac and Henry. I was very tired after all of the setting up we did, so I asked Ian to drive for me. Isaac rode shotgun, which put Leah and me in the backseat. It was a bit strange sitting in the back of my car for the first time, but it was nice to relax.
The following morning, after all of the Larsen men were dressed in our wedding finery, we drove back down to Ian’s ward building for a final bit of preparation. After the fiasco of not being able to get into the chapel on base, Ian planned ahead and got permission from his bishop to have the wedding ceremony there, just in case. He made sure that very few people even knew about the backup plan, but those who did were sworn to secrecy—he didn’t want to stress out Sherlin who had plenty of things on her plate already. Thankfully, the building was unlocked and we were able to proceed as planned.
Time to start!
The ceremony itself was lovely. While the words of the chaplain were nice, I really liked the individual vows that Ian and Sherlin wrote: they both included each other’s kids in their vows, promising their love to them as well. I looked over at the bridesmaids from my spot at the front of the line of groomsmen a few times and saw that all of them were tearing up. Needless to say, it was beautiful to see these two people dedicate themselves to each other.
Since I was in the bridal party, I don't have any pictures of the actual ceremony,
so here's one of the chaplain signing the marriage certificate.
After the wedding, the reception began. Most of the food had been prepared by Sherlin and it was delicious, as always. The cake was great too, despite the center tier (which I made) not being as structurally sound as hoped—still, it held up long enough to be cut, which is what really matters.
So much good food!
Iris gave her maid of honor speech, which was beautifully prepared. Then the groomsmen got up to deliver ours. Ian had decided that he wanted to have us play an improv game for our speech and had given us our instructions a few weeks prior: we would all stand in a line and say a single word each in succession, until we had each said six words (for a total of thirty-six words). When he gave us our assignment (via email), I immediately responded that he was being ridiculous. I had decided that I would just be as silly as possible and say “dinosaur” or “laser” at some point, but one of the more practical groomsmen just wrote a speech for us to use. Even though it defied Ian’s instructions to be spontaneous with our speech, I was happy to have something prepared. Another groomsman suggested that we just write our words on our hands and blatantly read them when we delivered the speech, which we did. Even so, we had to practice it a few times before the reception started, but it all worked out and I think that Ian appreciated the effort we made, even if didn’t follow all of his instructions.
A lovely speech by a lovely lady.
Margot and Bryan sang a song that Sherlin had specifically chosen for the day. They did a wonderful job and sang the song beautifully. Then Sherlin and Ian shared their first dance.
After I posted this picture to Facebook, Ian adopted it as his new profile picture. I guess that means he liked it!
Leah got involved, too. On the way to the ward building, she picked up washable markers to write on the windows of Ian's truck. She got Iris, Falisha, Margot, and Jen (Sherlin’s best friend) to help her with the decorating and I think it was a nice bonding experience for them all. I then worked to keep Ian away from his truck until they left for the evening. I’m sure Ian thought I was being very nice running out to his truck for things a few times, but I was mostly just keeping him inside. As for how the surprise went over, I can’t say. When it was time for the big reveal, I was busy wrangling my several nieces and nephews. Still, I suspect that they enjoyed it.
Sometimes wrangling kids is adorable.
One important activity that happens at every wedding is the bouquet toss. Sherlin was very inclusive and invited all the women in the room to participate, regardless of marital status. Even with the big crowd, Leah caught the bouquet. Does that mean anything? We’ll have to wait and see.
She shoots!
And it's good!
I’m so happy for my brother and new sister-in-law. Marriage is tough and with them each coming from a failed one, it would be easy to swear off marriage entirely. But they knew what they wanted in a spouse and found it in each other. I wish them the best and look forward to many happy times with them and their children.
Congratulations, Ian and Sherlin!
Tuesday, October 25, 2016
Root Canal
Remember back in May when I had my first dentist appointment in nearly seven years and I got away with just three small cavities? And then in August how I narrowly missed a root canal? Turns out, I'm not that fortunate.
Last week, the tooth that the dentist drilled the most started hurting. My teeth had been sensitive to temperature changes since my appointment, but that was supposed to be normal and would eventually go away. The pain that I experienced was different. It was intense and would come out of nowhere. I would be sitting at my desk at work and suddenly it felt like I was being stabbed in my mouth. It would last for as long as twenty minutes and it was all I could do to not try to rip my own tooth out. I made another appointment to see what we needed to do to stop the pain.
Yesterday, the dentist saw me. After a quick look, he suggested some treatments we could try, including having me use a special prescription toothpaste, but confessed that a root canal was probably in my future. After looking at a full x-ray of my head, however, he told me a root canal was necessary and asked me if I had time to do it right away. I decided to go for it, so he numbed me up and started drilling and digging away the deepest part of my tooth. (And perhaps my experience was different from the norm, but I didn't think it was all that bad. My jaw got tired holding it open for so long, but it the actual root canal process was no worse than getting a regular filling.) I got a temporary filling for the tooth that's soft -- and causes me pain if I accidentally eat on that side of my mouth -- and I'm getting a crown added in two weeks. If all of that wasn't enough, the dentist admitted to me that the tooth is dying and that it will have to be pulled and replaced with a prosthetic some time next year, so I should start saving my money for what insurance won't cover.
Still, the pain stopped. The dentist gave me a prescription for oxycodone, but I haven't needed it. And, while the procedure was not cheap, I could still afford it, so I know it could have been much worse. In fact, the whole experience was pretty good; I had a procedure done that ended my pain and didn't require me to use a credit card.
Last week, the tooth that the dentist drilled the most started hurting. My teeth had been sensitive to temperature changes since my appointment, but that was supposed to be normal and would eventually go away. The pain that I experienced was different. It was intense and would come out of nowhere. I would be sitting at my desk at work and suddenly it felt like I was being stabbed in my mouth. It would last for as long as twenty minutes and it was all I could do to not try to rip my own tooth out. I made another appointment to see what we needed to do to stop the pain.
Yesterday, the dentist saw me. After a quick look, he suggested some treatments we could try, including having me use a special prescription toothpaste, but confessed that a root canal was probably in my future. After looking at a full x-ray of my head, however, he told me a root canal was necessary and asked me if I had time to do it right away. I decided to go for it, so he numbed me up and started drilling and digging away the deepest part of my tooth. (And perhaps my experience was different from the norm, but I didn't think it was all that bad. My jaw got tired holding it open for so long, but it the actual root canal process was no worse than getting a regular filling.) I got a temporary filling for the tooth that's soft -- and causes me pain if I accidentally eat on that side of my mouth -- and I'm getting a crown added in two weeks. If all of that wasn't enough, the dentist admitted to me that the tooth is dying and that it will have to be pulled and replaced with a prosthetic some time next year, so I should start saving my money for what insurance won't cover.
Still, the pain stopped. The dentist gave me a prescription for oxycodone, but I haven't needed it. And, while the procedure was not cheap, I could still afford it, so I know it could have been much worse. In fact, the whole experience was pretty good; I had a procedure done that ended my pain and didn't require me to use a credit card.
Tuesday, October 18, 2016
Number Three
I have a long history of getting hand-me-down furniture. My desk and office chair were saved from being thrown away at work, my dresser and couch were given to me from a family that was moving out of Ellicott City, my loveseat was given to me by Ian (who had gotten it secondhand), my TV cabinet was included with a TV which I no longer own, and I picked up my living room end table next to a dumpster. Only my bed and kitchen set are brand new.
At least they were.
That, dear reader, is my brand new TV cabinet. I picked it out months ago on Amazon, but never completed the order. Getting a new cabinet wasn't a priory since I already had one, plus I wanted some time to recover from my big purchase of a new TV. Well, I decided to finally order it and it came last Friday. I spent the evening assembling it, which was pretty straightforward if time-consuming. Now, I have a sharp -looking cabinet and my third piece of brand new furniture.
Friday, October 14, 2016
Three's a Party
I've been working really hard to figure out who I should vote for this presidential election. One the one hand, Hilary Clinton is a criminal with plans that will ruin our country, while on the other hand, Donald Trump is a criminal with plans that will ruin our country. Every time I would make up my mind who I would vote for, I'd read a news story that proved that would be a bad idea. Now I feel like I can't vote for either candidate and still retain my integrity.
That's why I'm not voting for either of them. I'm voting for a third-party candidate, independent Evan McMullin. He happens to be a member of the Church, but that's not why I picked him. I picked him because he's the least terrible candidate to choose from. Don't get me wrong, I think McMullin will do a fine job, but he's also the only candidate that doesn't turn my stomach just thinking about voting for them. Some may say that I'm throwing my vote away by voting for a third-party candidate. To them I say that by voting for McMullin, I'll still be able to vote and exercise my civic duty without supporting a candidate who I detest.
So if you're struggling with who to vote for, remember that you have more than two options.
That's why I'm not voting for either of them. I'm voting for a third-party candidate, independent Evan McMullin. He happens to be a member of the Church, but that's not why I picked him. I picked him because he's the least terrible candidate to choose from. Don't get me wrong, I think McMullin will do a fine job, but he's also the only candidate that doesn't turn my stomach just thinking about voting for them. Some may say that I'm throwing my vote away by voting for a third-party candidate. To them I say that by voting for McMullin, I'll still be able to vote and exercise my civic duty without supporting a candidate who I detest.
So if you're struggling with who to vote for, remember that you have more than two options.
Tuesday, October 11, 2016
Food Guru
As I was leaving work yesterday, one of my coworkers, Chelsea, stopped me to ask a question. I was not happy with the idea of staying late, but I paused so she could ask her question. Instead of being a work-related question, however, she wanted cooking advice.
She wanted a quick way to cook zucchini and had asked around and even checked Pinterest for a recipe, but hadn't found anything helpful. I thought about her dilemma and asked her how comfortable she was using her broiler. She immediately nodded, acknowledging that she hadn't thought of going that route. I further explained that she would need to flip the vegetable (which was something she hadn't realized was necessary) and suggested some ways to prepare it that would make that easier. She thanked me for my help and I was on my way.
I followed up with Chelsea this morning to see how it went. Apparently, she hadn't been patient enough for the zucchini to get crispy, but it was fully cooked when she ate it.
I wasn't expecting the cooking question that I received, but it's nice to know that I have a reputation as a cooking expert and that I can live up to it.
She wanted a quick way to cook zucchini and had asked around and even checked Pinterest for a recipe, but hadn't found anything helpful. I thought about her dilemma and asked her how comfortable she was using her broiler. She immediately nodded, acknowledging that she hadn't thought of going that route. I further explained that she would need to flip the vegetable (which was something she hadn't realized was necessary) and suggested some ways to prepare it that would make that easier. She thanked me for my help and I was on my way.
I followed up with Chelsea this morning to see how it went. Apparently, she hadn't been patient enough for the zucchini to get crispy, but it was fully cooked when she ate it.
I wasn't expecting the cooking question that I received, but it's nice to know that I have a reputation as a cooking expert and that I can live up to it.
Thursday, October 6, 2016
New Policy
For many years, I have felt strongly about not giving money to panhandlers. I have good motivation for feeling this way. In one area of my mission, my companion and I knew a homeless man who regularly asked us for money that would almost certainly go to booze (he was at the stage of his alcoholism that he was having seizures if he didn’t drink every day). I don’t want to help fuel an addiction, and since I can’t be sure where the money is going, I don’t give to anyone.
(Now, I do want to say that if a person on the street is playing music, I happily contribute. They’re working as performers, which is a very different situation than simply saying, “Give me money for nothing.”)
However, just because I don’t want to unintentionally support an addict, that doesn’t mean that I’m unfeeling. If I could lend support to the men and women I encounter in a way that can’t be used for drugs or alcohol, I would be interested in that. Turns out, there’s something easy I can do that’s really a no-brainer, if only I had thought of it: water bottles. Leah keeps a case of water bottles in her car, partly for her own use and partly so she has something she can give to panhandlers. I thought the idea was fantastic, so I adopted it. I was excited to be able to help out the destitute of my community, but since buying the case of water, I either haven’t seen a panhandler or I only see them when the light is green. Even so, I’m sure that I’ll have a chance to give a bottle away soon enough.
I’m grateful that I have such a kind and clever girlfriend who inspires me to want to help those around.
(Now, I do want to say that if a person on the street is playing music, I happily contribute. They’re working as performers, which is a very different situation than simply saying, “Give me money for nothing.”)
However, just because I don’t want to unintentionally support an addict, that doesn’t mean that I’m unfeeling. If I could lend support to the men and women I encounter in a way that can’t be used for drugs or alcohol, I would be interested in that. Turns out, there’s something easy I can do that’s really a no-brainer, if only I had thought of it: water bottles. Leah keeps a case of water bottles in her car, partly for her own use and partly so she has something she can give to panhandlers. I thought the idea was fantastic, so I adopted it. I was excited to be able to help out the destitute of my community, but since buying the case of water, I either haven’t seen a panhandler or I only see them when the light is green. Even so, I’m sure that I’ll have a chance to give a bottle away soon enough.
I’m grateful that I have such a kind and clever girlfriend who inspires me to want to help those around.
Tuesday, October 4, 2016
General Conference, October 2016
Once again, we've come to that time of year where we get to enjoy a lovely weekend of being edified and uplifted by the servants of the Lord in the worldwide broadcast that is General Conference. I watched the Saturday sessions with Leah, who was a great companion throughout (though I'm sure it didn't hurt that I made homemade burrito bowls for us). On Sunday, we went and visited with Ian, Sherlin, and the kids. The kids who watched (Henry, Aeva, and Clara) were surprisingly well behaved, though they were clearly antsy by the end of the final session. Sherlin was a great hostess and provided snacks for the sessions and dinner once the whole thing was over. It was great to spend time with people whom I care so much about.
As for the conference itself, one major theme really jumped out to me: repentance. While repentance is easy to turn into a message of doom and despair, nearly every talk (if not every single one) that mentioned it was hopeful, focusing on the joy of a clear conscience and a clean soul. Sister Linda S. Reeves' talk on the matter was particularly poignant.
I always enjoy General Conference, though I like it best when I can share it with my loved ones, as I was able to this time.
As for the conference itself, one major theme really jumped out to me: repentance. While repentance is easy to turn into a message of doom and despair, nearly every talk (if not every single one) that mentioned it was hopeful, focusing on the joy of a clear conscience and a clean soul. Sister Linda S. Reeves' talk on the matter was particularly poignant.
I always enjoy General Conference, though I like it best when I can share it with my loved ones, as I was able to this time.
Tuesday, September 27, 2016
Broke
I enjoy baking. This is not news. An important tool (the most important tool, one might argue) is the oven. It's easy to take the oven for granted, with it being one of the main fixtures of any kitchen.
At least until it stops working.
Last week, while I had a batch of cookies in the oven, I heard an odd click. When the timer beeped, the cookies were still raw. I tried resetting the oven, but it didn't do anything. I checked the burners, but none of them worked either. I thought it might be a tripped circuit breaker, except that the clock on the oven still worked. I was left with a batch of pumpkin cookie dough and no way to finish them.
I called and left a message for maintenance, explaining that I needed the oven and stove in order to feed myself. This was Wednesday of last week and it still wasn't working by Friday, with no word on when it would be repaired. I called on Friday and talked to an attendant at the front office, who wrote down my information. I spent the weekend without a working stove and oven.
I stopped by my apartment during my lunch break on Monday and no repairs had been made. I called yet again, and had to leave another message. I was certainly feeling neglected and expressed my frustration to Leah. Without my asking her, she spoke to the office employee and, what do you know, my name was next on the list for repairs. When I got home from work yesterday, the oven thankfully worked again.
I don't know if all of my calls made a difference or if my name was taken down the first time and no one bothered to tell me. Either way, I'm glad that I can once again feed myself without having to rely on Hot Pockets and microwavable burritos.
At least until it stops working.
Last week, while I had a batch of cookies in the oven, I heard an odd click. When the timer beeped, the cookies were still raw. I tried resetting the oven, but it didn't do anything. I checked the burners, but none of them worked either. I thought it might be a tripped circuit breaker, except that the clock on the oven still worked. I was left with a batch of pumpkin cookie dough and no way to finish them.
I called and left a message for maintenance, explaining that I needed the oven and stove in order to feed myself. This was Wednesday of last week and it still wasn't working by Friday, with no word on when it would be repaired. I called on Friday and talked to an attendant at the front office, who wrote down my information. I spent the weekend without a working stove and oven.
I stopped by my apartment during my lunch break on Monday and no repairs had been made. I called yet again, and had to leave another message. I was certainly feeling neglected and expressed my frustration to Leah. Without my asking her, she spoke to the office employee and, what do you know, my name was next on the list for repairs. When I got home from work yesterday, the oven thankfully worked again.
I don't know if all of my calls made a difference or if my name was taken down the first time and no one bothered to tell me. Either way, I'm glad that I can once again feed myself without having to rely on Hot Pockets and microwavable burritos.
Tuesday, September 20, 2016
Beck: Live in Concert
Last night, I saw my favorite musician, Beck, perform live in Charlottesville, Virginia. And it was amazing.
Leah came with me, despite not being familiar with Beck's music beyond his biggest hit, "Loser." I took advantage of the long drive down to the venue to introduce her to some of his discography -- it probably would have been better if I had played just some of my favorites, but I just set my iPod to shuffle through my Beck collection, though I pointed out when a particular song really spoke to me.
Once we got down to Charlottesville, we checked into our hotel so we could just go straight to sleep after the show. When it was time to head over to the amphitheater, I suddenly felt the bottom of my stomach drop away: I had forgotten the tickets. I immediately started having a panic attack and even started crying, but Leah came to my rescue and told me to look up the confirmation email so I could show my proof of purchase to get replacement tickets. I searched for said email, but nothing came up. I called Ticketmaster and worked my way through the phone tree (and multiple disconnections) while Leah called the concert venue, Sprint Pavilion. I never got through to anyone, but Leah did and found out that as long as I have my ID and the credit card I used, the staff at the venue would be able issue me new tickets. I felt a lot better, but I didn't completely calm down until I had the replacement tickets in hand.
(I know that I spent years in a relationship with an emotionally abusive partner, so my perspective is warped, but I was truly touched when Leah wouldn't let me give up after my blunder. She helped me find a solution and didn't abandon me when my anxiety got the best of me. I cannot thank her enough for what she did for me.)
Despite getting in line right when the doors opened, we were able to quickly make it to the front of the audience. The way the amphitheater is set up, there were no seats at the front, just an open area in which to stand and we were third or fourth from the very front. For the most part people were well behaved and didn't try force their way to the front (the exception being two rather short teenaged girls near the beginning and a drunk guy near the end of the show).
The opening act was a band from Sweden called Peter Bjorn and John, which was confusing for me because they left out a much needed comma from their band's name (the three founding members of the band are Peter, Bjorn, and John, for which the band is named). They were a great band to get the crowd in the mood. The lead guitarist and singer was very energetic and jumped around a lot while he played: there was even one song where he only sang and he walked through the audience, with lots of people giving him high fives (the high fives didn't start until after he passed us, so I never got one). I enjoyed the music they played and was especially surprised when I heard a song I recognized, "Young Folks." They only played for about thirty minutes, but I'm glad I got to see them.
It took about thirty-five minutes for the road crew to clear Peter Bjorn and John's set from the stage and for Beck's band to start playing. The man of the hour came out after the music had already started, allowing the crowd to really get amped up. The band started with the classic song, "Devi's Haircut," but with extra solos. And no Beck performance would be complete without a rendition of the song that made him famous, "Loser," which was the second song of the night. His crowd work was great, pointing the mic to the audience for every chorus. I looked over at Leah and even though she only kind of knew the song, she was really into it.
I liked that Beck sang some songs and picked up his guitar and played while singing for others. Even though he let his backup band carry the majority of the songs, make no mistake: this guy can play.
After one particularly moving song, "Paper Tiger," Beck asked a girl in the audience if she was okay, because she had been moved to tears. She apparently said that she was because he kept going, but you could tell that he was touched that she had felt something so powerful through his music.
And like every good show, there was even a costume change:
Leah came with me, despite not being familiar with Beck's music beyond his biggest hit, "Loser." I took advantage of the long drive down to the venue to introduce her to some of his discography -- it probably would have been better if I had played just some of my favorites, but I just set my iPod to shuffle through my Beck collection, though I pointed out when a particular song really spoke to me.
Once we got down to Charlottesville, we checked into our hotel so we could just go straight to sleep after the show. When it was time to head over to the amphitheater, I suddenly felt the bottom of my stomach drop away: I had forgotten the tickets. I immediately started having a panic attack and even started crying, but Leah came to my rescue and told me to look up the confirmation email so I could show my proof of purchase to get replacement tickets. I searched for said email, but nothing came up. I called Ticketmaster and worked my way through the phone tree (and multiple disconnections) while Leah called the concert venue, Sprint Pavilion. I never got through to anyone, but Leah did and found out that as long as I have my ID and the credit card I used, the staff at the venue would be able issue me new tickets. I felt a lot better, but I didn't completely calm down until I had the replacement tickets in hand.
A picture to remember where we parked becomes a fun memory with the addition of a cute pose.
(I know that I spent years in a relationship with an emotionally abusive partner, so my perspective is warped, but I was truly touched when Leah wouldn't let me give up after my blunder. She helped me find a solution and didn't abandon me when my anxiety got the best of me. I cannot thank her enough for what she did for me.)
Despite getting in line right when the doors opened, we were able to quickly make it to the front of the audience. The way the amphitheater is set up, there were no seats at the front, just an open area in which to stand and we were third or fourth from the very front. For the most part people were well behaved and didn't try force their way to the front (the exception being two rather short teenaged girls near the beginning and a drunk guy near the end of the show).
A selfie while the opening act tuned their instruments.
The opening act was a band from Sweden called Peter Bjorn and John, which was confusing for me because they left out a much needed comma from their band's name (the three founding members of the band are Peter, Bjorn, and John, for which the band is named). They were a great band to get the crowd in the mood. The lead guitarist and singer was very energetic and jumped around a lot while he played: there was even one song where he only sang and he walked through the audience, with lots of people giving him high fives (the high fives didn't start until after he passed us, so I never got one). I enjoyed the music they played and was especially surprised when I heard a song I recognized, "Young Folks." They only played for about thirty minutes, but I'm glad I got to see them.
My view for the evening.
It took about thirty-five minutes for the road crew to clear Peter Bjorn and John's set from the stage and for Beck's band to start playing. The man of the hour came out after the music had already started, allowing the crowd to really get amped up. The band started with the classic song, "Devi's Haircut," but with extra solos. And no Beck performance would be complete without a rendition of the song that made him famous, "Loser," which was the second song of the night. His crowd work was great, pointing the mic to the audience for every chorus. I looked over at Leah and even though she only kind of knew the song, she was really into it.
I liked that Beck sang some songs and picked up his guitar and played while singing for others. Even though he let his backup band carry the majority of the songs, make no mistake: this guy can play.
After one particularly moving song, "Paper Tiger," Beck asked a girl in the audience if she was okay, because she had been moved to tears. She apparently said that she was because he kept going, but you could tell that he was touched that she had felt something so powerful through his music.
And like every good show, there was even a costume change:
Maybe not a particularly exciting costume change, but I appreciated the effort.
About halfway into the show, Beck introduced the members of his band, though I didn't catch any of their names. Still, here's what they look like:
During the bassist's introduction, he started playing Micheal Jackson's "Billie Jean" and the rest of the band joined in. Beck pointed the mic at the audience for the chorus and later commented that we were "surprisingly in key."
As the band worked their way through many of Beck's bigger hits, I kept track in my head if there were any major ones that had been left out. Just as I was worried that one of his biggest hits (and one of my personal favorites) would be excluded, "E-pro" was played as the closing song. The band quickly vacated the stage, but the audience stayed and cheered for a solid minute, so Beck (unaccompanied) came back out for an encore! He sang and played his harmonica, which resulted in even more cheers. After this final song, the roadies came and started breaking down the set, a clear sign that the show was over.
There were a lot of ups and downs leading up to this show, but in the end I had a great time. I loved the music, I loved the company, and I'm glad I took a ridiculous number of pictures. I'm exhausted, but it was worth it for the experience.
Friday, September 16, 2016
Lysine to the Rescue
At some point during my childhood, I contracted the herpes simplex 1 virus, or HSV-1. This virus causes cold sores and fever blisters and once a person contracts it, they have it for life. These mouth sores are little more than annoying, so the fact that it's incurable is really a non-issue. Plus, I usually only get fever blisters once every few years, so I haven't really had to worry about it.
Or I didn't, until I had a girlfriend who doesn't have the virus. And guess what showed up this week? Two cold sores right next to each other.
I know that increased stress can lower the immune system and that's usually when HSV-1 strikes. I've been facing a lot of deadlines at work lately, so it makes sense that I've been more stressed than usual. Still, though, I didn't like the idea of growing a festering wound on my lip, so I looked up remedies. Holding ice to the sores throughout the day is supposed to help, but that didn't do much for me. Applying tea tree oil thrice daily is also supposed to speed up the healing process, but I didn't notice a difference. However, lysine (or rather, a topical ointment with lysine as the active ingredient) worked like a charm.
I first noticed the cold sores coming in on Monday morning and, after trying ice and tea tree oil with no results, I started using the lysine ointment on Wednesday afternoon. I've been applying the ointment frequently throughout the day (about once an hour) and as of this writing, one sore is gone and very little of the other remains.
If you have HSV-1 and suffer from either cold sores or fever blisters, try lysine. It worked wonders for me.
Or I didn't, until I had a girlfriend who doesn't have the virus. And guess what showed up this week? Two cold sores right next to each other.
I know that increased stress can lower the immune system and that's usually when HSV-1 strikes. I've been facing a lot of deadlines at work lately, so it makes sense that I've been more stressed than usual. Still, though, I didn't like the idea of growing a festering wound on my lip, so I looked up remedies. Holding ice to the sores throughout the day is supposed to help, but that didn't do much for me. Applying tea tree oil thrice daily is also supposed to speed up the healing process, but I didn't notice a difference. However, lysine (or rather, a topical ointment with lysine as the active ingredient) worked like a charm.
I first noticed the cold sores coming in on Monday morning and, after trying ice and tea tree oil with no results, I started using the lysine ointment on Wednesday afternoon. I've been applying the ointment frequently throughout the day (about once an hour) and as of this writing, one sore is gone and very little of the other remains.
If you have HSV-1 and suffer from either cold sores or fever blisters, try lysine. It worked wonders for me.
Tuesday, September 13, 2016
A Real Marylander
Today, I have had a truly authentic Maryland experience: I went crab picking.
A few weeks ago, one of my coworkers, Chelsea, talked about how much she enjoyed crab picking when my boss, Magda, and I admitted that we had never partaken in one of Maryland's favorite activities. With our secret revealed, it was decided that we needed to go picking as a department. Chelsea found a place that offers crabs for $1.50 each on Tuesdays, so we made our plan to go.
The thing about picking crabs is that it takes a lot of work and there's a lot of waste. Most of the crab is inedible and the parts you can eat are hidden away under layers and layers of shell and organs. It's a good thing I had help because to my novice eyes, the gills (which can make you sick if you eat them) looked exactly the same as the meat. After a few crabs, however, I got the hang of it. I didn't count how many crabs I ate, but I think it was around six or seven. The five of us (the marketing department plus Alejandro from accounting) went through two and half dozen crabs and I could have kept eating if left to my own devices.
At the end of the meal and to everyone's surprise, Magda said that our outing counted as a team building experience and paid for the meal with her company card. I had already had a great time, so getting to enjoy the meal for free made it even better.
If you ever visit Maryland, I definitely recommend going crab picking, but be sure to take someone who can show you the ropes.
A few weeks ago, one of my coworkers, Chelsea, talked about how much she enjoyed crab picking when my boss, Magda, and I admitted that we had never partaken in one of Maryland's favorite activities. With our secret revealed, it was decided that we needed to go picking as a department. Chelsea found a place that offers crabs for $1.50 each on Tuesdays, so we made our plan to go.
The thing about picking crabs is that it takes a lot of work and there's a lot of waste. Most of the crab is inedible and the parts you can eat are hidden away under layers and layers of shell and organs. It's a good thing I had help because to my novice eyes, the gills (which can make you sick if you eat them) looked exactly the same as the meat. After a few crabs, however, I got the hang of it. I didn't count how many crabs I ate, but I think it was around six or seven. The five of us (the marketing department plus Alejandro from accounting) went through two and half dozen crabs and I could have kept eating if left to my own devices.
At the end of the meal and to everyone's surprise, Magda said that our outing counted as a team building experience and paid for the meal with her company card. I had already had a great time, so getting to enjoy the meal for free made it even better.
If you ever visit Maryland, I definitely recommend going crab picking, but be sure to take someone who can show you the ropes.
Wednesday, September 7, 2016
Laborious Weekend
My weekends of late have been full of activities, especially involving family. This weekend was no exception, though the family was not always my own.
On Saturday, I went with Leah to her mom’s place where I met Leah’s older sister Briana and her four kids. After a bite to eat (including cookies I brought), we all went to a boardwalk at Havre de Grace. It was a beautiful day and it was great being so close to the water. After our walk, we spent some time at the local park and the kids had a good time running around and playing (as did Leah’s mom, Debbie).
Since Leah worked in the evening at her part-time job, we parted ways and I headed home. After running a few errands, I went to Ian’s place to visit with him, Sherlin, and their kids. They had just gotten back from the Philadelphia Temple open house and the kids were getting their wiggles out. I worked in the kitchen with Sherlin, helping her bake a cake for the next day—we ended up having a problem with getting the first layer out, but I knew of a technique to help with that, so the next three layers came out without any problem. I hung around until much later than I planned, but it worked out because I got to see Margot, Bryan, and their kids as soon as they arrived (which was later than they planned).
The next day, after church, Leah came with me to the big birthday bash at Ian’s, which had as guests Margot’s clan and a friend of Sherlin who brought her children as well. It was actually Ian’s birthday, but we also celebrated Aeva’s and Phoebe’s birthdays. In fact, the cake that I helped with the day before was designed to be for all three of them: the flavor was Black Forest (for Ian) and the decorations were a combination of princess (for Phoebe) and superheroes (for Avea) themes. As crazy as that sounds, the craziest part was the fact that we crammed eight adults and a dozen kids into the kitchen for dinner, though it took three tables of various sizes. Sherlin made dinner, which was fantastic, as always.
My presents to both Aeva and Phoebe were action figures of girl superheroes: Batgirl for Aeva and Supergirl for Phoebe (which went well with Clara’s Wonder Woman figure that I bought her previously). For Ian, I gave him the unthinkable, at least for him: a book. I got him The Last Girlfriend on Earth: And Other Love Stories by Simon Rich. It’s a collection of farcical short stories that I think he’ll enjoy, if he ever actually reads it.
All of this fun over two short days wore me out and I ended up just staying for Labor Day. I’m happy that I have people in my life for whom I’m willing to exhaust myself.
On Saturday, I went with Leah to her mom’s place where I met Leah’s older sister Briana and her four kids. After a bite to eat (including cookies I brought), we all went to a boardwalk at Havre de Grace. It was a beautiful day and it was great being so close to the water. After our walk, we spent some time at the local park and the kids had a good time running around and playing (as did Leah’s mom, Debbie).
Since Leah worked in the evening at her part-time job, we parted ways and I headed home. After running a few errands, I went to Ian’s place to visit with him, Sherlin, and their kids. They had just gotten back from the Philadelphia Temple open house and the kids were getting their wiggles out. I worked in the kitchen with Sherlin, helping her bake a cake for the next day—we ended up having a problem with getting the first layer out, but I knew of a technique to help with that, so the next three layers came out without any problem. I hung around until much later than I planned, but it worked out because I got to see Margot, Bryan, and their kids as soon as they arrived (which was later than they planned).
The next day, after church, Leah came with me to the big birthday bash at Ian’s, which had as guests Margot’s clan and a friend of Sherlin who brought her children as well. It was actually Ian’s birthday, but we also celebrated Aeva’s and Phoebe’s birthdays. In fact, the cake that I helped with the day before was designed to be for all three of them: the flavor was Black Forest (for Ian) and the decorations were a combination of princess (for Phoebe) and superheroes (for Avea) themes. As crazy as that sounds, the craziest part was the fact that we crammed eight adults and a dozen kids into the kitchen for dinner, though it took three tables of various sizes. Sherlin made dinner, which was fantastic, as always.
My presents to both Aeva and Phoebe were action figures of girl superheroes: Batgirl for Aeva and Supergirl for Phoebe (which went well with Clara’s Wonder Woman figure that I bought her previously). For Ian, I gave him the unthinkable, at least for him: a book. I got him The Last Girlfriend on Earth: And Other Love Stories by Simon Rich. It’s a collection of farcical short stories that I think he’ll enjoy, if he ever actually reads it.
All of this fun over two short days wore me out and I ended up just staying for Labor Day. I’m happy that I have people in my life for whom I’m willing to exhaust myself.
Friday, September 2, 2016
Witness
After the baseball game a couple of weeks ago, I was driving home when I witnessed a car accident.
Traffic had been heavy near the city, but it opened up as I got farther away. On the freeway I was on, there are four lanes, which I will reference to as the lane closest to the center median as lane one and so on, with lane four being the far right lane. As I neared the Fort McHenry tunnel, I tried changing lanes, moving from lane three to lane two (with the ultimate destination being lane one), but I saw a car in lane one move over to lane two where I wanted to be. I was annoyed that he moved to where I wanted to be, so I slowed down and let him pass me.
Once he was in front of me, I kept an eye on him. He kept moving from lane to lane, never using his blinker. I thought he was either a dumb kid messing around or was distracted (likely on a cell phone). As I watched him, I noticed an electric sign with a flashing orange arrow in lane one, indicating that we needed to merge to the right—the Fort McHenry tunnel is made up of four tunnels with two lanes each (two tunnels going north and two going south) and occasionally half of the tunnels will be closed for maintenance, which was the case that night. Not only did the driver who kept moving around not see the electric arrow, he drifted too far to the left and hit the center median, sending sparks flying. Seconds after he hit the median, his car hit the electric arrow and he careened across the other lanes, finally stopping in lane four.
After witnessing the crash, I quickly decided to stop and see if the driver was okay. I pulled over just ahead of him, parking my car in lane four with my hazard lights flashing (in retrospect, I should have pulled all the way over into the shoulder, though my car was fine where it was). A truck driver also saw the crash and stopped his rig, blocking traffic immediately behind us. I walked up to the crashed car (a white sedan that I would guess was at least ten years old), which judging from the damage, would never be drivable again. The driver, a white male in his early twenties with a scruffy beard, was in shock but otherwise appeared to be fine. He rolled down the window so we could speak. While not word for word, our conversation went something like this:
ME: You okay, man?
HIM: Uh, I think so.
ME: Okay, good. Have you called 911, yet?
HIM: No.
ME: Okay, I’m going to call them.
HIM: Can I call my dad first?
ME: Let me call and get emergency services out here first, but after I call, yeah, you can call your dad.
I made the call and told the dispatcher where we were, which was easy since we had stopped right next to a mile marker. She told me that crews would be on the way soon. I then asked the kid (whose name was Billy) for his dad’s number so I could call. With the number dialed, I passed Billy the phone. His dad didn’t pick up, which makes sense since it was approaching midnight and my number would only show up as “unknown.” Billy left a voicemail and passed the phone back. With the calls made, we waited.
During all of this, the trucker walked over and checked on us and told me that he would wait for the road crew to arrive before taking off. I expressed my gratitude and he walked back to the cab of his truck. I asked Billy if he wanted to get out of the car and he decided that was a good idea. I could tell that he was still in shock, so I decided to talk to him to try to get his mind off of what happened. I asked him if had done any drinking that night (which I realize now was not a great opener), with the assurance that I wouldn’t say anything to the police. His response? “Obviously.” I told him that at least he was okay, so things would work out. He then started having a bit of a panic attack, saying that he wished that he had died in the crash. He even got in my face a bit too close and said that if I had a gun that I should shoot him. I think he was worried about getting a DUI on his record and didn’t want to face the consequences. I tried to calm him down, but nothing worked, so I ended up just walking away, leaving Billy to lean against the side of his wreaked car.
Before too long, I saw lights flashing and heard sirens. Before I saw any police, I saw the road crew come in so they could clean up the mess and get more than one lane of traffic flowing again. The trucker told me that he was taking off so he would could his delivery and wished me well. As the trucker walked away, I saw a police officer, so I walked up to him and explained that I was the witness who had called and gave my testimony of what I saw. True to my word, I said nothing about Billy admitting to drinking that night. I reasoned that my testimony of anything beyond what I actually saw would only count as hearsay and that the cops would use a breathalyzer anyway. Once I got through everything, the officer asked me to wait in my car in case they needed anything else from me.
I waited in my car for about ten minutes when a different officer came up and tapped on the passenger window of my, which I rolled down so we could talk. The officer gave me a paper form and a pen and asked me to write down my testimony, along with my contact information. He also thanked me for staying saying, “Not a lot of people stay, so thank you.” I filled up the allowed space on the form with my testimony, finishing just as the officer came to retrieve it. He thanked me again for staying and told me that I may be called to testify in court, but that that was unlikely. With that, I drove off, getting home around 12:30 AM.
The next morning, around 6:45 AM, Billy’s dad called me to ask how his son was doing. I gave him the gist of what had happened and suggested that if he hadn’t heard from his son, that he call the Baltimore City police for more information. He thanked me and wished me a good day before hanging up. While the emotion strongest in Billy’s dad’s voice was concern, a close second was annoyance. I think that Billy was arrested for driving under the influence and spent the night in jail. I also suspect that it wasn’t Billy’s first time in that situation.
What I took from this experience more than anything else is how important it is to listen to promptings from the Spirit, even when we don’t realize that’s what they are. I saw Billy switching back and forth between lanes with enough room to avoid him. I decided to hang back and watch what he was doing, rather than speed up and pass him (which may have made me a part of the accident). Once the accident occurred, I pulled over to check on him. All of that was from the Spirit, subtly directing me, first keeping me safe, then keeping Billy safe. I’m grateful that I was able hear the promptings and that I heeded them.
Traffic had been heavy near the city, but it opened up as I got farther away. On the freeway I was on, there are four lanes, which I will reference to as the lane closest to the center median as lane one and so on, with lane four being the far right lane. As I neared the Fort McHenry tunnel, I tried changing lanes, moving from lane three to lane two (with the ultimate destination being lane one), but I saw a car in lane one move over to lane two where I wanted to be. I was annoyed that he moved to where I wanted to be, so I slowed down and let him pass me.
Once he was in front of me, I kept an eye on him. He kept moving from lane to lane, never using his blinker. I thought he was either a dumb kid messing around or was distracted (likely on a cell phone). As I watched him, I noticed an electric sign with a flashing orange arrow in lane one, indicating that we needed to merge to the right—the Fort McHenry tunnel is made up of four tunnels with two lanes each (two tunnels going north and two going south) and occasionally half of the tunnels will be closed for maintenance, which was the case that night. Not only did the driver who kept moving around not see the electric arrow, he drifted too far to the left and hit the center median, sending sparks flying. Seconds after he hit the median, his car hit the electric arrow and he careened across the other lanes, finally stopping in lane four.
After witnessing the crash, I quickly decided to stop and see if the driver was okay. I pulled over just ahead of him, parking my car in lane four with my hazard lights flashing (in retrospect, I should have pulled all the way over into the shoulder, though my car was fine where it was). A truck driver also saw the crash and stopped his rig, blocking traffic immediately behind us. I walked up to the crashed car (a white sedan that I would guess was at least ten years old), which judging from the damage, would never be drivable again. The driver, a white male in his early twenties with a scruffy beard, was in shock but otherwise appeared to be fine. He rolled down the window so we could speak. While not word for word, our conversation went something like this:
ME: You okay, man?
HIM: Uh, I think so.
ME: Okay, good. Have you called 911, yet?
HIM: No.
ME: Okay, I’m going to call them.
HIM: Can I call my dad first?
ME: Let me call and get emergency services out here first, but after I call, yeah, you can call your dad.
I made the call and told the dispatcher where we were, which was easy since we had stopped right next to a mile marker. She told me that crews would be on the way soon. I then asked the kid (whose name was Billy) for his dad’s number so I could call. With the number dialed, I passed Billy the phone. His dad didn’t pick up, which makes sense since it was approaching midnight and my number would only show up as “unknown.” Billy left a voicemail and passed the phone back. With the calls made, we waited.
During all of this, the trucker walked over and checked on us and told me that he would wait for the road crew to arrive before taking off. I expressed my gratitude and he walked back to the cab of his truck. I asked Billy if he wanted to get out of the car and he decided that was a good idea. I could tell that he was still in shock, so I decided to talk to him to try to get his mind off of what happened. I asked him if had done any drinking that night (which I realize now was not a great opener), with the assurance that I wouldn’t say anything to the police. His response? “Obviously.” I told him that at least he was okay, so things would work out. He then started having a bit of a panic attack, saying that he wished that he had died in the crash. He even got in my face a bit too close and said that if I had a gun that I should shoot him. I think he was worried about getting a DUI on his record and didn’t want to face the consequences. I tried to calm him down, but nothing worked, so I ended up just walking away, leaving Billy to lean against the side of his wreaked car.
Before too long, I saw lights flashing and heard sirens. Before I saw any police, I saw the road crew come in so they could clean up the mess and get more than one lane of traffic flowing again. The trucker told me that he was taking off so he would could his delivery and wished me well. As the trucker walked away, I saw a police officer, so I walked up to him and explained that I was the witness who had called and gave my testimony of what I saw. True to my word, I said nothing about Billy admitting to drinking that night. I reasoned that my testimony of anything beyond what I actually saw would only count as hearsay and that the cops would use a breathalyzer anyway. Once I got through everything, the officer asked me to wait in my car in case they needed anything else from me.
I waited in my car for about ten minutes when a different officer came up and tapped on the passenger window of my, which I rolled down so we could talk. The officer gave me a paper form and a pen and asked me to write down my testimony, along with my contact information. He also thanked me for staying saying, “Not a lot of people stay, so thank you.” I filled up the allowed space on the form with my testimony, finishing just as the officer came to retrieve it. He thanked me again for staying and told me that I may be called to testify in court, but that that was unlikely. With that, I drove off, getting home around 12:30 AM.
The next morning, around 6:45 AM, Billy’s dad called me to ask how his son was doing. I gave him the gist of what had happened and suggested that if he hadn’t heard from his son, that he call the Baltimore City police for more information. He thanked me and wished me a good day before hanging up. While the emotion strongest in Billy’s dad’s voice was concern, a close second was annoyance. I think that Billy was arrested for driving under the influence and spent the night in jail. I also suspect that it wasn’t Billy’s first time in that situation.
What I took from this experience more than anything else is how important it is to listen to promptings from the Spirit, even when we don’t realize that’s what they are. I saw Billy switching back and forth between lanes with enough room to avoid him. I decided to hang back and watch what he was doing, rather than speed up and pass him (which may have made me a part of the accident). Once the accident occurred, I pulled over to check on him. All of that was from the Spirit, subtly directing me, first keeping me safe, then keeping Billy safe. I’m grateful that I was able hear the promptings and that I heeded them.
Tuesday, August 30, 2016
Lack of Consistency
Dear reader, I've been doing a lousy job of writing content for this blog. What was once a part of my normal routine has been pushed to the background and it's hard to make it a priority. There are multiple reasons for this change:
- I used to watch TV shows on my computer, so opening up the blog to write a post was really easy. Now with my TV, I have to remember just to turn the computer on.
- Nearly every evening, my time is occupied. Whether it's a ward activity, missionary correlation, the gym, or just texting Leah, I'm a lot busier than I used to be.
- Leah is taking up a lot of my free time. That is not a complaint (quite the opposite!), but a statement of fact.
- Facebook makes it easy to post little updates all the time. Even if I don't post anything there for a week or two, I feel more connected simply by scrolling through my news feed.
I apologize for neglecting the blog and I wish I could say that I was going to double my efforts to update regularly, but I'm actually going to do the opposite: I'm going to two days a week. I think with the reduced schedule, one that's a bit more practical, I'll be able to actually keep to it (also, that's the most I've been posting for the last couple of months anyway). My plan is post on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but the days may shift around a bit.
I know some of you rely on this blog to know how I'm doing, so I hope that the new schedule will allow me to do so more consistently.
Wednesday, August 24, 2016
Take Me Out to the Ballgame
On Friday night, all of the wards in the Baltimore area had the opportunity to attend an Orioles game as part of Mormon night. These sorts of events happen all over the country (including in the land of my nativity, San Diego), so it was nice to be a part of it here.
As you can see in the above picture, we had seats just right behind home plate, which made following the game easy. Unfortunately, we were way up in the nosebleed section. Still, I had a bird's eye view of the whole thing.
The first inning was really exciting, with the Orioles scoring five home runs to the Houston Astros' one. After that, however, the Astros just kept getting home run after home run. The final score was 8-15, with Houston winning.
Even though the O's didn't perform as well as I'd hoped, I still had a great time. I sat with Leah and her mom, along with one of Leah's best friends, Katie, and her husband David. Plus, lots of other people from my ward were there, too.
David, Katie, Leah, me
(Leah's mom, Debbie, had stepped away)
Baltimore pride!
I still don't consider myself a sports guy, but I'm always up for going to a baseball game, especially when the company is so nice.
Wednesday, August 17, 2016
Close Call
I returned to the dentist this week so that my teeth could be drilled and filled. Remember how my three cavities weren't very deep? Well, for some reason, the x-ray didn't show the severity of the decay in my teeth. It turns out that my cavities run deep, with one going so deep that I narrowly missed having to have a root canal. I may still get my chance in the future, but for now it seems to be taken care of. Even so, the doctor mentioned more than once that he was having to drill deeper than expected on all three teeth.
The take away from this experience? Don't skip dental visits for seven years or your teeth will fall apart.
The take away from this experience? Don't skip dental visits for seven years or your teeth will fall apart.
Tuesday, August 16, 2016
The City of Brotherly Love
The Philadelphia Temple was designed with a neoclassical aesthetic and most of the people I talked to said that it reminded them buildings in the National Mall, like the White House. The outer walls are covered in granite, while the interior had lots of intricate wood work on wall moldings. Unique to the Philadelphia temple is a painting in the waiting room depicting the signing of the Declaration of Independence, an event that was ordained of God and happened in the same city.
While I was mostly marveling at the architecture and design work, others were impressed with the spirit of the temple, which could be felt even before being dedicated. Brian, who was baptized that morning before we left Baltimore, felt especially moved while we were in the Celestial room, saying how he can't wait until he's been a member long enough to be worthy for a recommend. Alex, who's struggled with his activity in the Church, asked the Bishop "What would it take for me to get a temple recommend?" It's amazing how people are touched, simply by seeing a temple.
The DC Temple has a permanent replica of the Christus, so I've seen it several times very recently.
Even so, it doesn't get old.
Most of the group from my ward in front of the Christus.
After the tour was over, we met up at large indoor food court for lunch, though a late one. Being in Philly, I had to get a Philly cheesesteak. The one I got was from a food stand called By George. It was a really good cheesesteak. It was also huge -- I still have half of it waiting for me in the fridge.
The picture may by posed, but that facial expression is genuine.
While Leah didn't come to the open house with the ward (she's going with her mom later this week), I went to see her after I got back. I met most of her family at a get-together at her mom's house and they were all very nice, if uproarious, people.
And, unrelated to my visit with her family, Leah and I have decided to exclusively date each other. That's right: we're going steady.
Leah and me outside of our church building.
This weekend was jam-packed with activities and people, but I enjoyed it all and I'm happy with the results.
Friday, August 12, 2016
Slight Return
My eczema came back.
Kind of.
The eczema returned, but not where it had been before.
Let me start over. As I previously related, I treated the eczema with steroids, both oral and topical. The medication worked and my skin healed. However, once the treatment ended, the rash started showing up in new places: instead of my upper arms, the rash was on my lower arms; instead of my torso, it was on my legs; etc. So, the treatment worked, but I need to treat everything. Thankfully, I was able to get back in to see my dermatologist on Monday and get a new round of 'roids. She agreed with my assessment -- that the treatment took, just not thoroughly -- and was reasonably confident that this would be the end of the eczema (her estimation is that there's a 25% chance of it returning; not bad odds, considering).
So, I should soon be rash-free.
Again.
Kind of.
The eczema returned, but not where it had been before.
Let me start over. As I previously related, I treated the eczema with steroids, both oral and topical. The medication worked and my skin healed. However, once the treatment ended, the rash started showing up in new places: instead of my upper arms, the rash was on my lower arms; instead of my torso, it was on my legs; etc. So, the treatment worked, but I need to treat everything. Thankfully, I was able to get back in to see my dermatologist on Monday and get a new round of 'roids. She agreed with my assessment -- that the treatment took, just not thoroughly -- and was reasonably confident that this would be the end of the eczema (her estimation is that there's a 25% chance of it returning; not bad odds, considering).
So, I should soon be rash-free.
Again.
Monday, August 8, 2016
Surf and Sun
Leah and I have been texting a lot since we first met and during one of our conversations, it was brought up that we both like the beach, though neither of us had been in a long time -- she hadn't been since sometime last year and I haven't made it to the beach since moving to Maryland. Some time later, she said she wanted to surprise me with a weekend activity, but I needed to pack my swim suit, a towel, and sunscreen. It seems pretty obvious where we were headed, right?
It's the first place I think of when I think of the beach.
Well, because the forecast called for rain, she decided to go with her backup plan, so we went to a water park. We went with Leah's friend, Katie, and her husband, David. We got to the park right when they opened and were able to try out all of the attractions at the park before noon. After a trip to the van for lunch, we went back to discover that the park was now really crowded. With the weather outside looking nice enough, we decided to see how long it would take to get to a beach. Since we could get to one in about an hour, we decided to give it a try.
Leah and me in the backseat
I took this picture at the end of the day because I forgot to take one at the beginning
Well, I'm glad we decided to chance the rain. The weather was perfect and it was amazing being back at a beach, though this was my first time to one on the east coast. The waves were great for wadding and swimming, but didn't break properly for surfing (which was just as well since we didn't have any boards).
On the beach with Leah
I planned ahead and wore sunscreen, but we were there long enough that I still got a mild sunburn. Even so, I'm so glad that I went. It was great being in the water again, I enjoyed meeting Katie and David, and I had a blast with Leah. I even helped out by taking a shift driving home when everyone else was too tired.
Sunset at the beach is still awesome, even when the sun drops behind the wrong horizon
Wednesday, August 3, 2016
Public
You may have noticed something different about this blog. Namely, it's no longer accessible by invitation only but is, in fact, accessible by anyone with an internet connection. Why the sudden change? My divorce is final.
You see, I never meant for this blog to be private, but when I first filed for divorce, I was afraid that Allison might use something I wrote against me. Rather than censor myself, I decided to simply change the privacy settings to invitation only. With the divorce finalized, I no longer have any reason to keep the blog private, so I've gone back to sharing my secrets with the world.
Thank you to everyone who supported me during my divorce. Now that I'm a free man, it feels right that my blog matches that sentiment.
Tuesday, August 2, 2016
Monday, August 1, 2016
Called to Serve
On Saturday, I attended my ward's pool party. It was fun to cook on the grill and swim in the pool and generally interact with the members in my ward, but something unusual happened while I was there: I sat down with the Bishopbric so they could extend a calling to me. So, despite all of the other people milling about, we sat in our shorts and discussed what my new responsibilities would be in my new calling. I accepted the call with the promise that it would be announced in church the next day.
Sure enough, on Sunday my name was called for a sustaining vote in my new position as ward mission leader. There was an opening in this position, so I knew there was a chance that could be the calling, but I still wasn't expecting it. Interestingly, the Bishop said that while he and his counselors had been considering me for the position, the thing that clinched it for me was how well I handled FHE last Monday. Apparently, I showed good leadership skills, as well as the fact that I knew how to properly prepare.
I don't really know all of what my calling will entail as of yet, but I'm ready to step up and learn. We just got a second set of missionaries assigned to the ward, so they need a liaison to the Bishop now more than ever.
I know that the Lord wants me in this calling and I plan to do the best that I can while serving in it.
Sure enough, on Sunday my name was called for a sustaining vote in my new position as ward mission leader. There was an opening in this position, so I knew there was a chance that could be the calling, but I still wasn't expecting it. Interestingly, the Bishop said that while he and his counselors had been considering me for the position, the thing that clinched it for me was how well I handled FHE last Monday. Apparently, I showed good leadership skills, as well as the fact that I knew how to properly prepare.
I don't really know all of what my calling will entail as of yet, but I'm ready to step up and learn. We just got a second set of missionaries assigned to the ward, so they need a liaison to the Bishop now more than ever.
I know that the Lord wants me in this calling and I plan to do the best that I can while serving in it.
Thursday, July 28, 2016
A Lot of Fun
Saturday afternoon, I got a text from a member of the Bishopbric, asking me to handle Family Home Evening the following Monday. I haven't been shy about complaining when I think an activity was less than ideal, so I knew if I was going to do it, it needed to be really good. Following the advice of my parents, I talked to my little brother, Isaac, for some ideas. He had several, but one in particular stood out: Pictionary.
In preparation, I wrote down 25 different scripture stories, ranging from "Nephi breaks his bow" to "The Mount of Transfiguration" and cut up the paper so that each prompt was on a thin strip. I also baked some chocolate chip cookies for the treat, but that's just my style. I put all the prompts in a trilby I inherited from my grandfather for people to draw out of and went to the church.
At the actual gathering, I gave a brief lesson based on 1 Nephi 19:23 about the importance of likening the scriptures to our own lives and even had a few people participate.
Then we played Pictionary, "likening" the scriptures by using drawings. I counted everyone off to avoid friends being on the same team which might have created an unfair advantage, but it didn't really matter. Team II dominated Team I. Even so, members from both teams said more than once, "This is a lot of fun." (For those curious, the easiest clue was "Jonah swallowed by the whale" and the hardest was "Paul seeks an audience with Caesar.")
I had fun preparing for Family Home Evening and I'm glad everyone had fun, but I'm also glad that it's not my regular calling.
In preparation, I wrote down 25 different scripture stories, ranging from "Nephi breaks his bow" to "The Mount of Transfiguration" and cut up the paper so that each prompt was on a thin strip. I also baked some chocolate chip cookies for the treat, but that's just my style. I put all the prompts in a trilby I inherited from my grandfather for people to draw out of and went to the church.
At the actual gathering, I gave a brief lesson based on 1 Nephi 19:23 about the importance of likening the scriptures to our own lives and even had a few people participate.
Then we played Pictionary, "likening" the scriptures by using drawings. I counted everyone off to avoid friends being on the same team which might have created an unfair advantage, but it didn't really matter. Team II dominated Team I. Even so, members from both teams said more than once, "This is a lot of fun." (For those curious, the easiest clue was "Jonah swallowed by the whale" and the hardest was "Paul seeks an audience with Caesar.")
I had fun preparing for Family Home Evening and I'm glad everyone had fun, but I'm also glad that it's not my regular calling.
Monday, July 25, 2016
New Uncle
It is now public knowledge that Ian and Sherlin are engaged to be wed. I know that they will be happy together and I'm so happy that I got to be a part of their announcement by taking their engagement photos. But today I'm going to talk about something related to me.
Ian and Sherlin have me over for dinner every other Sunday when they have their kids. It's great to see Clara and Henry, but also Iris and Aeva, Sherlin's two girls. I guess seeing me around so often and hearing Clara and Henry always call me "Uncle Jordan" had and effect, because the last time I visited, Aeva kept calling me "Uncle Jordan," while laughing hysterically. Just a little girl playing a game, right?
Well, yesterday I visited Ian and Sherlin to take their engagement photos, but the kids were with their other parents. Ian called and talked to his kids for a bit, then Sherlin called and talked to hers. When Aeva got on the phone and heard that I was visiting, she asked to speak to me. We didn't talk for very long, but I was really touched that she wanted to say hi. Then Iris got on the phone. I left the room to give Sherlin some privacy for her call, but I must have laughed at something because Iris heard me and asked, "Is Uncle Jordan there?" The kids hadn't been told about the engagement yet; they just started think about me as part of their family.
I'm looking forward to being Iris and Aeva's step-uncle, at least officially -- I'm already their uncle-in-heart.
Ian and Sherlin have me over for dinner every other Sunday when they have their kids. It's great to see Clara and Henry, but also Iris and Aeva, Sherlin's two girls. I guess seeing me around so often and hearing Clara and Henry always call me "Uncle Jordan" had and effect, because the last time I visited, Aeva kept calling me "Uncle Jordan," while laughing hysterically. Just a little girl playing a game, right?
Well, yesterday I visited Ian and Sherlin to take their engagement photos, but the kids were with their other parents. Ian called and talked to his kids for a bit, then Sherlin called and talked to hers. When Aeva got on the phone and heard that I was visiting, she asked to speak to me. We didn't talk for very long, but I was really touched that she wanted to say hi. Then Iris got on the phone. I left the room to give Sherlin some privacy for her call, but I must have laughed at something because Iris heard me and asked, "Is Uncle Jordan there?" The kids hadn't been told about the engagement yet; they just started think about me as part of their family.
I'm looking forward to being Iris and Aeva's step-uncle, at least officially -- I'm already their uncle-in-heart.
Thursday, July 21, 2016
Meet-cute
At Church on Sunday, before Sacrament Meeting started, I noticed a girl who I hadn't seen before. She was cute and I made a point to introduce myself once the meeting was over, but I was delayed and when I looked over to where she had been sitting, she was gone. I shrugged it off and I went to teach Sunday School.
After Priesthood was over I went to collect my container that I had brought the cookies in from the Relief Society room, when I saw the cute girl from earlier. I took advantage of the second chance and walked over and said "hi." The reason I hadn't seen Leah (the girl's name) before was that she had just gotten back from vacation in Washington State where she was visiting her sister for the past three weeks. We were really hitting it off and I was getting ready to ask for her number when some guy walked up and started talking to us. With the guy standing right there, it felt awkward to ask for her number, so I simply told her that it was nice meeting her and left, though I decided that when I saw her next Sunday, I would ask for her number.
Monday evening, I got an email from an LDS dating site, telling me that I had a new message. This surprised me because while I had set up a profile on the site, I thought I had deactivated it. Curious, I went to the site to investigate. Now, with dating sites, you can set up a profile for free and can even send other users messages, but in order to read the messages you receive, you have to pay a membership fee. I had never paid that fee, so I couldn't read the message. However, I was able to see who sent it. Then, I went and looked at who had recently viewed my profile, which you can also do for free. Sure enough, the last person who had viewed my profile was the same one who had sent me the message. I clicked on the profile and saw that it was Leah from church the day before. Turns out I wasn't the only one who was interested! Since I couldn't read her message, I looked up her email in the Ward directory and wrote her a new email, explaining why I didn't respond to her message through the dating site. I also gave her my phone number.
The next morning, I got a text from Leah. Because she works evenings at a group home for developmentally disabled adults, she starts work right before I leave the office. But she's able to text while at work, so we've been in communication ever since. (She's 29 and also divorced with no kids.) I suggested that she meet me for lunch near my office, so we could see each other before the weekend. She accepted. That's how I had lunch with a cute girl named Leah today. I had a really great time and we're already planning to see each other again on Saturday (and on Sunday, too, of course).
I don't know if Leah and I will make it past the second date, but it sure is great to have met someone who's just as interested in me as I am in her.
After Priesthood was over I went to collect my container that I had brought the cookies in from the Relief Society room, when I saw the cute girl from earlier. I took advantage of the second chance and walked over and said "hi." The reason I hadn't seen Leah (the girl's name) before was that she had just gotten back from vacation in Washington State where she was visiting her sister for the past three weeks. We were really hitting it off and I was getting ready to ask for her number when some guy walked up and started talking to us. With the guy standing right there, it felt awkward to ask for her number, so I simply told her that it was nice meeting her and left, though I decided that when I saw her next Sunday, I would ask for her number.
Monday evening, I got an email from an LDS dating site, telling me that I had a new message. This surprised me because while I had set up a profile on the site, I thought I had deactivated it. Curious, I went to the site to investigate. Now, with dating sites, you can set up a profile for free and can even send other users messages, but in order to read the messages you receive, you have to pay a membership fee. I had never paid that fee, so I couldn't read the message. However, I was able to see who sent it. Then, I went and looked at who had recently viewed my profile, which you can also do for free. Sure enough, the last person who had viewed my profile was the same one who had sent me the message. I clicked on the profile and saw that it was Leah from church the day before. Turns out I wasn't the only one who was interested! Since I couldn't read her message, I looked up her email in the Ward directory and wrote her a new email, explaining why I didn't respond to her message through the dating site. I also gave her my phone number.
The next morning, I got a text from Leah. Because she works evenings at a group home for developmentally disabled adults, she starts work right before I leave the office. But she's able to text while at work, so we've been in communication ever since. (She's 29 and also divorced with no kids.) I suggested that she meet me for lunch near my office, so we could see each other before the weekend. She accepted. That's how I had lunch with a cute girl named Leah today. I had a really great time and we're already planning to see each other again on Saturday (and on Sunday, too, of course).
I don't know if Leah and I will make it past the second date, but it sure is great to have met someone who's just as interested in me as I am in her.
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