Pattering against the windows,

the rain puts me into a somber and reflective mood, as usual. For some reason it makes me think of Peter Pan, and Neverland, and I feel a little left out, because I have never been.

I wish I was a better writer. jbod tells a story about cough syrup, and you'd think it was Mary Poppins and magic; B writes in perfect prose, and can make me wistful, playful, or thoughtful in four lines or less. Me, I've learned to compose a compellingly persuasive essay on nearly any topic of importance - and somewhere along the way, I think I strangled my inner child.

And I'm thinking of those the wishes we that have. The ones we do not dare speak aloud, because really deep down inside of your heart (right next to that spot reserved for your mom and dad and God and brothers and sisters), we're afraid that if we say our wish out loud that it really might not come true. And I want those wishes to come true so bad sometimes.

So when the sky clears, and the stars come out, I'll go outside and let myself feel little under the big night sky. I'll stare up at that big black canvas punctured by a billion burning suns and think about "big picture" things until my mind is spinning. Finally, I'll think about my writing wish and the other ones I'm too scared or superstitious to tell you about, and I'll let go. I'll let all my inadequacies float lazily away on the summer breeze.

But tonight, with the rain pattering against the windows, I will simply comfort myself with hope, and happiness, and by counting my blessings.


a bitty blog post

These days, I feel I'd rather be experiencing life than blogging about it, so I've been lax in sharing much with you recently. Don't take it personal, it's just hard to blog when spring is in swing. Thus, I have listed some of the joyful distractions that excuse my absence from blogging. I recommend you enjoy some of these too:

warm weather
green grass
scripture reading with friends

holding hands

bare toes
people watching
water falls

self-help books

I thought I also mention parenthetically that four years ago today, I entered the Missionary Training Center. Sharing the Gospel of Jesus Christ changed my life forever. If you are looking for answers to questions of the soul, I suggest you start here. More on this on May 24th.


Fresh Mart is Stealing My Childhood!

When I was but 6 years old, my oldest sister Kim was babysitting me. We needed to go to the store, so we guessed how many (Kim-sized) steps it would take to walk to Albertson's. Knowing Albertson's to be farther away than I had probably ever walked, I guessed a really big number: 100. 265 steps or so later, Kim and I walked into the store. I still remember getting an ice-cream cone with her, where she taught me to sing I Saw the Sign by Ace of Base.

Upon receiving my one-dollar weekly allowance in elementary school (tons of money), my cousin Dave and I would always walk down to Albertson's and spend hours deliberating whether to buy Fun Dips, a pastry, Neccos, Spree, or Nerds. Then we'd go to aisle 4 and freeze to death while we picked out a soda for a quarter.

In high school, Jordan, Matt, Marshall, Chris, Isaac, Andrew, Steve and I would all cram onto the trampoline in our sleeping bags and talk about girls. Jordan and I would argue about who gets to date Rachel and Isaac would go home early, then we would all walk down to Albertson's, look for the obligatory HCAA (hot chick at Albertson's), then buy energy drinks. Once we got hyper enough, we'd start prank calling the girls we liked. Matt would swear if he drank enough Red Bulls then life would move in slow motion.

Naturally, when hanging out with my friends last week, Albertson's was the first place that came to mind when we needed ice cream to make shakes. As the cashier was ringing us up, I got the surprise of my life.

Cashier: "How y'all doing tonight?

Me: "Good good. Just gonna make some shakes!"

Cashier: "Sounds like fun. You guys from around here?"

Me: "I live just around the corner. I've been coming to this Albertson's for my whole life. I've had some good times here.

Cashier: "It's not Albertson's."

All of us: "..."

Me: "I don't get it. There's a giant neon Albertson's sign on the front of the building."

Cashier: [pointing to the logo on his shirt] "It's Fresh Mart now."

I was speechless. I felt like my wife of 20 years was leaving me. How could this happen? This place where so many treasured memories have happened?

Probably, nobody else cares all that much, but to me, I feel a little sad inside. Thanks for the good times, Albertson's. I'll miss you!