Campbell's Soup

Props to Mandi for reminding me to make this post.

So sometimes in the dating world, everybody starts looking pretty much the same. It kind of reminds me of an Andy Warhol painting called "200 Campbell's Soup Cans."


You'll notice they're all totally different flavors, and yet... they're all still Campbell's Soup. If all we ever ate was Campbell's Soup, I'm sure we could try all 200 flavors and eventually pick a favorite, but in the end it's it's all still just Campbell's: It's not exactly the most delicious (or nutritious) soup out there.

For those of us who've ever had anything homemade, there's really no other option.

Drawing an analogy - everybody is unique, everybody has different qualities and characteristics, but there are people out there who are more different, who rise above the category of Campbell's Soup and prove themselves the most enticing, the most attractive, and most importantly, the most good for you. And for me, that's a home-made girl.


Don't try to fit the mold. Break it. Look at how delicious you can be.

Best. Night. Ever.

Okay. I've ridden (rode?) on rollercoasters. I've been to New York. I parasailed, bodysurfed, and toured the ruins of Mexico. I've dated beautiful girls. I'm even sitting next to one right now. All those things really put a smile on my face. But nothing, nothing compares to what I did last night.


I crowdsurfed. I sang 70's hits, and whenever I reached out past the stage's edge, girlish screams burst forth from the already roaring crowd and I felt like a celebrity.

Nothing compares. Nothing. Seriously, I cannot put into words the amazing feelings, the heart-racing exhilaration that infuses my very being when performing on stage with the Groovetrain. Holy cow!

All night long, I was surrounded by the people I love: my friends from as far south as Provo, and as far north as Logan and Layton, (and everywhere in between) came from hours away, ready to party. I can honestly count on one hand the people that are important to me that weren't there. For me, the night was full of everything desirable to a man - free food and drink, tons of candy, glow sticks, mass amounts of girls, fantastic hugs, dancing, thousands of screaming fans... heck. They even called for an encore.


The highlight of my night deserves revisiting: I play keyboard, so during Pat Benatar's "Heartbreaker," I've got no music to play. Free to follow my heart's desire, I jumped off the front of the stage to join the thronging masses. Gordy Evans yelled to me "I really want to lift you up right now!" So I jumped up on his shoulders to get a view of the crowd, quickly noticing everybody reaching for me... that's right, they wanted to pass me around above them. And who am I to resist? As hands reached up and pushed me around to the bumping music of the 80's, I thought to myself, this is what life is about. This is what makes life worth living. This is passion.

A sign of a good party is that everybody leaves the place so devoid of energy they can barely stumble home in time to lose consciousness. At the end of the night, I was so physically and emotionally spent that I felt like I was running on fumes. I made an appearance at the afterparty, downed half a vitamin water, stuck an oreo on a girl's face, then split for home.


Seriously, best night of my life. The best. Hands down.

the Dark Chocolate Principle - New Year's Resolution #1

Okay. So I went up to Salt Lake last weekend for band practice and also to see Melissa Millward's farewell talk - she's gonna be a missionary in Sao Paulo Brazil! I'm super excited for her.

Anyways, every time I return home from Salt Lake, my mom sends me with a huge bag of food. (I like to do my shopping at my house, I get up to 100% off) One thing she stuffed in the bag this time was a HUGE bar of Hershey's dark chocolate.

And I have a theory about dark chocolate. It's kind of like TV. Seriously. Hear me out.

I hope that dark chocolate is always around. I love it. I eat it on a fairly regular basis. If somebody asks me if I'd like some, I almost always say "yes." 30 seconds later, I'm helping myself to my 5th or 6th or 23rd piece and suddenly I realize, this tastes totally disgusting. I feel like my tongue is going numb from sheer overstimulation. And yet, for some reason I still eat another piece.

So, to draw the connection, sometimes I have hobbies and even some friends that are like dark chocolate - Hopefully this come out the way I mean it: I hope they are always part of my life, but taking them in smaller doses, and with less frequency, would greatly increase my appreciation for them, because I honestly think there are some people in this world that, if I saw them every day, would eventually drive me completely crazy. On the same token, watching too much TV gives me about the same feeling as eating an entire pound of dark chocolate: completely inescapable, utter lethargia, which must be surrendered to no matter the consequences.

So that's why I'm cutting back on TV. It's hard to imagine that my hardworking ancestors up in heaven can look down on my body, sloughed all over the couch and surrounded by potato-chip crumbs, and smilingly say "He's really doing a great job at life." So, I'm officially giving "TV" the dark chocolate label. I expect my underfed brain will thank me.

Getting Friended

There has been a lot of talk about a particular phenomena in the world of boy-girl relationships, and this post, by popular request, (that's Marc Nielson, the most popular guy I know) addresses this issue.

So let me tell you a little bit about "friending." Here on the BYU scene where hormones rage like the beach at high tide, we've got to be able to put up our defenses against creepers. What's the best defense? One may wonder. The answer: Friending.

I like friending. It's a nice tool to let other people know where you stand, as well as a good way to know whether you're wasting your time and money with a girl. And frankly, down here in Happy Valley, it's a necessity.

So how do you know you're being friended? Well, when your main squeeze starts talking to you about the boy or girl they like... you've been friended. When hanging out with girls, sometimes a boy other than yourself will text those girls. If they get giddy right in front of you... friend-zone. When they say stuff like "hey friend!" Yeah. You know they used the word "friend" on purpose.

If somebody you like stops returning your phonecalls, you haven't been friended... You're probably getting punished for stalking them. My advice would be to break off contact completely.

So anyways, that's friending. Use it with discretion.

Oh, and once you've entered the friend-zone, just know that there's no going back. That's really bad form. In other words, if you friend somebody, don't try to cuddle with them, don't try to interdigitate with them, and for heaven's sake don't kiss them! Come on. You know better than that. Stuff like that is for people who are more than friends.

The Elephant in the Room

Hahaha. I'm such a boy.

So I have a little theory about awkward situations. It's called "the elephant in the room." Let me explain it:

In some social situations, people are talking about something, but thinking about something else that is sometimes painfully obvious... and yet nobody brings it up. It's like having an elephant standing in the middle of the parlor at a cocktail party. Everybody is embarrassed that it's there, so they talk about last weekend's party, how much they love so-and-so's shoes, and how nasty the weather is tonight, all the while trying their best to ignore the elephant, who happens to be totally stinking up the place, and getting in the way.

And I'm sick of it. From now on, I am pointing at the elephant and saying "HEY! There's an elephant in the house! Does anybody want to ride on it with me?" If there's going to be an elephant in the room, we might as well take advantage of it.

So how does this translate? Well, if I like a girl, I'm probably going to tell her so. If my roommate is going to buy some seriously hideous pants, I'm going to stop him. When I do something really dumb in front of everyone, I'm not going to cover it up. I'm going to point at it and say "Wow. Let's make a list of things never to do again and put that at the top."

You're asking yourself, where does he get these ideas? Weirdly enough, I got it from a TV sitcom: the Office. In season three, Pam follows a star-crossed path riddled with emotional scandals and disappointments, and finally, at the end of the season, she musters up the courage and tells Jim how she really feels. Not only does she speak up, but she totally does it in front of everyone; Not in a spirit of pleading or desperation, but in perfect control and poise, she says exactly what she feels. And she changes Jim's future.

It was dope. And I want to do it. I've got a few "what ifs" in my life, a few elephants in my room, and frankly, it's been getting crowded in here. Last week I shooed one out with Rachel, and seriously, I felt alive. Granted, the subject matter of our conversation wasn't something anything a boy ever looks forward to talking about (that's right... relationships)... but to be honest, it was one of the better conversations I've had in a long time and I left feeling empowered, satisfied, single, and oh so happy. Shoving an elephant anywhere takes a considerable amount of effort, and once you're done you've still got some elephant poop to shovel up, but the source is no longer a problem.

So there you have it. The Elephant in the Room.

Dedication.

Oh baby. Here it is. This is better than I imagined...

I'm listening to "Summer Wind" by Madeiline Peyroux, in my shivering and yet homey shared-room apartment. My creative spirit has finally won over my laziness, and another blog is born.

I've always felt that inhibitions are lowest when somebody is drunk or sleep-deprived, so naturally I chose to set this thing up at 1:16 AM after a weekend of lots of playing hard. I feel good sitting at a computer, typing my thoughts and sharing a little bit of my feelings here... I sort of feel like I am in a movie, and this is the opening credits. Kind of a cool feeling.

This blog is dedicated to the unconquerable spirit of man. In all the headwinds and opposition that dreamers face, still we push inexorably onward until, through the materials of true dedication, persistence, and hard work, we form our dreams into realities. Nothing is so constant as change. This blog is a journal, but it's also a toast to those who dedicate their lives to a change for the better. Isn't that what you want to do? It's what I'm doing. I figure if I keep track of what's going on in my life, I'll be able to make a little better sense of it, and scoot on along my life course a little bit smoother.

My blog address is a tribute to Mason Jennings' song "If you Aint Got Love." To me, it's a perfect little glimpse into the precious few but brilliant moments in a man's life when he knows he is feeling something, and feeling it strong. Passion is what makes life taste good.