Bottoming out.

Have you ever experienced a clash of two worlds? You know, when the work you meets the school you, or the family you, meets the recreation you, etc. Well this recently occured and I thought I should share it with you all.

At work there is a group of us who regularly order out. We consider ourselves the "Hells Angels" of lunch clubs; we will eat whatever we want, whenever we want, and the rest of the hospital can go to hell if they have a problem with it. Cheese fries, ok. Six meat pizza with no cheese and no vegetables of any kind, ok. Two hotdogs, two bags of chips, a bacon cheese burger, and a soda, ok. We like our food, and we like our lunch break, and we will have them both! Give us lunch or give us death! I am even considering getting a tatoo on my stomach that states "yeah, I ate one of these too" over the image of a two pound gravy laden pork calzone. This would be the "work me".

Back at the ranch Amber and I have been eyeing our finances with the realization that remodeling a house has a big impact on your bottom line, and our bottom line couldn't go much lower to begin with. So we decided it would be prudent to begin packing a lunch. The "home me" was on board immediately. What a wonderful opportunity to save money and make my wife happy all at the same time! And so a couple of months ago I became a brown bagger. Ok, let me clarify that, Amber has been packing a lunch every shift she works, and I have been doing likewise just often enough that I can claim a "brown bag" title, but not miss out on the regular Rubio's/Cafe Rio/Hires/Crown Burger runs at work with the lunch gang.

Well all that changed last week when I finally put my foot down and became a purist.

No Seriously. So seriously in fact that I even went as far as to stop carrying money with me so as to not slip. I am committed.

I am happy to say that I have been doing quite well these last few days. However, what is it they say about temptation? That it is proportional to your level of determination. How true it is.

Yesterday morning I arrived to work with the realization that I had forgot to pack a lunch. Not to worry, I told myself, I can tough out one day with no lunch, right? To be sure I scrounged up a hefty breakfast and I went on my way.

All was well until 1000 hit and the lunch bunch started batting around the "Where are we eating today" question. Since I am usually the instigator of such discussions, and since I hadn't bothered to inform the lunch crew of my recent conversion to the religion of "what you got" cuisine, it wasn't long until I had several hungry eyes looking to me to make the final decision. I sat for a moment looking at my culinary compadres until I noticed one shady looking fellow hanging around the background and I recognized him as "work me". So that is what I look like I thought, kinda wild looking. I sighed, the time had come. I had to come clean.

I think they took the news quite well, I only had two pens thrown at me, one of which came from "work me", who muttered something that sounded like "uppity jerk" before he skulked off to go find a vegetarian to harass.

All the talk of food ended up being too much in the end, I had to eat something. So when lunch time came there I sat amoung my friends who pounded down P.F. Changs with obvious glee. Among the boxes of crispy honey chicken, beef with broccoli, and lettuce wedges sat my reserve package of ramen noodles and two ham sandwiches that I found in the back of the fridge from wednesday of last week. The bread was wet with condensation and the mayo was only clear around the edges, but the it tasted just fine to me. I had done it.

For a good time....

Ok, so have any of you tried to contact the DMV lately?

I have a vehicle that is slightly expired and in dire need of a new shiny sticker. So being the dutiful citizen I can be at times, I gathered the needed registration information and inspection certificates and ensconced myself in front of my laptop and commenced the process.

My first road block came with step one of the process. My address is outdated. Not to worry! The DMV people were thoughtful enough to include easy to read instructions on what to do in just such an event. The instructions include the appropriate phone number. What they don't tell you is by calling the number you must submit not only your intellectual faculties at the door but you must also give up any desire to live.

At first the "children of the corn" voice seems pleasant enough. She informs you that you have dialed the correct number in a voice sweeter than Amy's mothers from "Everybody loves Raymond". Shortly however, you become aware that you aren't in Kansas anymore.

You would think a change of address would be as simple making a phone call and then getting on with your life. Oh no....Naive little one. We are dealing with the DMV a governmental entity!!!!!

I listened over and over and over and over to the list of options and no option for changing your address exists. I felt like I was wondering around Hogwarts trying to find that room that only appears when you really need it to. Apparently I didn't want the address change option bad enough.

I momentarily clapped like a school child when I happened upon an option entitled "Vehicle registration information" only to curse like a drunken sailor when I was informed "if you recieved a packet in the mail, open it, and follow the directions to renew your registration online... I think I might have shed a tear at this point.

Have you ever felt like you were stuck in a Seinfield episode??? In frustration I found myself mocking the voice on the other end of the line. Trust me, it does no good, the voice doesn't even flinch.

So, here I am, crying on any available shoulder (Amber retreated upstairs in disgust, her shoulder is apparently unavailable at the moment. So much for the myth that a crying man indicates sensitivity and is a desirable trait, she just called me a wimp).

Look, I am not about to suggest to anyone that we should boycott the DMV, (in case they are listening). I am however suggestion that if you find yourself in need of an address change with the DMV don't expect sympathy. These boys play for keeps. They will chew you up and spit you out only to kick you in the crotch as a parting gift.

Curse them, curse them all....

RECHARGE!!!!!

Just thought I would take a minute and report on another successful weekend spent at the Gorge.

This weekend my Dad and I took a couple of my friends to show them what "real" fishing is like. We spent three days fighting the sun, wind and rain in pursuit of the elusive thirty pound lake trout.



The first picture is Derek, a friend from Nursing school. He caught a twenty-five pounder the last day. I think he is happy, even though his face looks like he might be passing a stone. Lets just say it was cold, and he learned what it is like to try and pump a huge trout off the bottom of the lake with non-responsive/numb fingers and a touch of gas from the fish fry the night before.



My Dad caught a twenty pounder, and he let Kyle hold it for the picture. I guess he could tell that Kyle wasn't going to pose with one of his own by the end of the trip. Fathers intuition or something. Anyway, Kyle was a good sport and only inquired once as to why he was having his picture taken with a fish he didn't catch. He wasn't the only one wondering the same thing.



We had a great time and I enjoyed getting to know Kyle and Derek a little better. If you are wondering why there isn't a picture of me holding a laker, it is because I didn't catch one, duh! I guess I couldn't take the pressure! {:-)



We had a great fish fry of fresh caught lake trout, corn on the cob, and Crayfish. The crayfish was about the only thing I could actually catch. Props to Kyle for his award winning crispy trout and homemade tartar sauce.

Answer to the quiz

Curt is right, Oliver Cowdry did author section 134, and apparently on the same day, also authored a proclamation on the family. They were presented to the church at a general conference that Joseph didn't attend. Joseph did not initially endorse either but after a time he embraced section 134, as has each president since. The proclimation on the other hand wasn't endorsed.

There you go, interesting stuff!