Enough is Enough already.

"Jimmer" is not an adjective. It is not an adverb. It is not a noun. It is not an interjection. It is not an onomatopoeia. It is not a verb that can be conjugated in the present, present perfect, preterit, etc. I don't believe it even qualifies as a personal pronoun, or obscenity. In the same way that you can't "smurf" something, or be "smurfed", or eat "smurfingly", nothing can be done with the so-called word "Jimmer" and leave you with a shred of dignity or smug benevolence. Enough is enough.

Got the job!

These past few months have been pretty hard. Hannah and I have had a lot of hopes and a lot of let downs. I applied for several HR internships only to be let down time and time again. We found the perfect summer job opportunity where we could both work at a resort in southern Utah and thought for sure we were going to get it along with some of our friends who were very qualified for the job. We were crushed when that plan fell through, but excited to try an even better job at a resort by Bear Lake where the manager was very excited about giving us the opportunity to work. We were let down again by bad news that we didn't have the right equipment to fulfill the position. Then, I was invited to an interview by a guy who said my resume was the best he'd seen and was excited to interview me if I could begin working full time in mid march. Again we were let down wondering if we would find anything at all. I interviewed with a very solid internship that never contacted me back, despite my attempt at contacting them for a follow up.

We kept praying and waiting patiently for an opportunity to come along, and then it did. Last year we went to Disneyland for spring break and had a great time. This year we didn't make any plans, and I worked a lot at Best Buy. Hannah frequently checked the job board at school for any signs of an internship or a job for the summer. On Wednesday she found a job appear in the HR department of USU. She excitedly told me about, and I called right away to schedule an appointment. I was told that only five applicants would be considered and that I should email my resume ASAP. I did so, and an interview was set up for Thursday morning. At the interview I was told that of the three applicants, I was the only one who A) followed instructions, and B) actually met the qualifications for the job. We had a great conversation and I felt very good about the interview. I was told that the job needed to be fulfilled very soon and that I would find out within a few days the final decision. Today I was extended an offer for the job.

The job is pretty simple, for now. The title is Office Assistant, and my big project for now is to file the ongoing stacks of immense paperwork that flow through the office daily. I'll also be tackling the daunting task of archiving documents from 1997-2005. There will be various tasks and projects that I will be assigned as they arise. Yeah, doesn't sound like a great job, right? Wrong! I was told there are plenty of opportunities to progress and move on to more meaningful positions. This is much better than an internship. We don't have to relocate, and I can work in an HR office throughout the rest of my college career. How good would it look on a resume to say I've got a few years of experience in an HR department? How great is it to be familiar with the paperwork that validates the existence of my chosen profession? An internship goes for maybe four months, and how will your employer know exactly what you've done? We are so thankful for this opportunity. Our prayers and fasts have been answered, and we are full of gratitude.

Things that disgust me

People who come in to my workplace without showering in the last forever
The Black Eye Peas
Lady Goo Goo
Twilight fans
Michael Moore
Sarah Palin
Mysterious smells on the bus
People who think they are mythical creatures
Bipolar weather
Parents who yell at their kids in public rest rooms or hit them with cardboard boxes in Smiths Marketplace
Exams with material not covered in the book or class
Rice cakes
PETA

Big trucks and big jerks

Why is it that big trucks make people feel entitled to be big jerks? Ive been cut off and nearly rear ended by tailgating big moustached truck driving gun toting camo wearing pure blooded american as apple pie republican cowboys more times this week than i can count. My wife was treated like dirt on the bottom of this idiots boots for asking him politly to move his stupid ford truck out of our designated parking spot. He didnt apologize or let alone acknowledge her presence. What gives you the right to treAt people this way? Do you think that the fact that your belt buckle is bigger than your brain you can do whatever you want? From this week on im cowboyist for sure. Prove me wrong you half a dozen jerks that have ruined my week, prove me wrong.

Angry customers

Today I dealt with the worst customer I've ever met. He approached me hostile and looking for trouble and looking to trip me up. He set traps for me and then insulted me. His wife stood there with a smug look on her face and let him do it too. I tried to stay calm but I was red in the face and my hands shook uncontrolably. Finally I stood up for myself and put him in his place and he backed down. What a terrible day at work.

Fish

Saturday my wife and I bought two goldfish. We named them Jimmy and Squatting-Bear. Unfortunately when we came home from school Monday, they were dead. And to make things worse, the bowl smelled like sulfur when I cleaned it out. So yesterday we did NOT buy the goldfish at walmart, and went to Petsmart. We bought two goldfish again, this time naming them Freddie and Jason. We'll see how long they last. I bought myself a little betta fish to put on my desk. Under the right light, he looks like he's glowing. I named him Eh, Steve? So far he is still alive, which I'm glad. He keeps uprooting the one plant I have in his little aquariumcito though which angers me. Stop it Eh, Steve? !

School

Nothing is more depressing then spending hours and hours during two weeks to prepare for an exam and then score well below what you had anticipated. Do professors take joy in creating tests that are almost impossible to do well on? I think yes. They say that for every hour in the class room you should have a two hours of study. So for my accounting class, I should have had about 4 hours of study which I doubled easily the two weeks prior to the exam. So...why is there no correlation between study time and performance? is my study time not effective? do professors hate students? why didn't the dog in the dorito commercial break the glass? These are questions I have.

Superbowl XxPXXKVIII or whatever number it is

I wonder how much money is made by the NFL every year by the superbowl. I noticed that they try to get just about every demographic to watch the game by bringing in bands like the Black Eye Peas, people like Christina Aguilera, and whatever her name is from that horrible tv show glee. Im pretty confident that guys who watch a lot of football don't like those things. Pretty sure.

Talking in sleep

Sometimes my wife will talk in her sleep. Normally its just mumbling and I can't tell what she is saying. I never thought that I talk in my sleep, but I guess you never assume you do anything strange. Apparently last night I groaned and then said, "i needs to jump". Whatever that means. I dont remember what it was about. I guess I needed to jump. Somewhere.

Floggers vs. Emo kids - An Essay

A Flogger (pronounced flow gur) is a "photo logger", a person that uses a social networking site called "photo log" in Argentina. It pretty much is a facebook where you just put pictures of yourself and is a term that they use in Argentina to identify a certain group of people. I tried and tried to rap my head around the concept but it's a very strange phenomenon. The typical picture is where you take it of yourself by holding a camera above your head, tilting your head to one side and trying to look as pitiful as possible. This is how you identify a flogger. But there is much more to a flogger than this, much more. Floggers typically have what we would call an "emo haircut", believe that smiling makes you look weak, wear balloon pants, and video themselves dancing what looks like river dance and posting it to their social networking site. Apparently, a Flogger isn't just someone who vainly takes a bunch of pictures of themselves, during my time in Buenos Aires I came to realize it's a lifestyle.

Emo kids are a strange phenomenon that we have in the states. Most emo kids that i've known have similar backgrounds: 1) they come from white middle class families, 2) have loving parents, and 3) live in some delusional world where they believe they weren't hugged enough as a baby or that their parents hate them because: they bought them a car, feed them, give them money to do stuff with their friends, and don't impose a curfew.  Point number 3 must be the legitimate reason that explains why their hair only grows in the front, their headphones are an integral part of their head (except for when they take their bi-monthly shower), and they feel like regardless of their gender they must wear their mother's jeans. And black make up.
So hug your babies. Hold them so tight.

The one thing that floggers and emo kids definitely share in common is how much attention they try to bring to themselves. Every day is the worst day of their life, no one can possibly understand how hard their white middle class suburban existence is, and their unrequited love life is so sensationally depressing that every weak attempt at poetry or song lyrics are based on that one moment that they perpetually live inside. The ironic part of all this is although they say, "I just want to be left alone," and "nobody understands me," they 1) spend a lot of time with their other emo friends who look just like them and make the same ridiculous claims, and 2) spend a lot of time on social networking sites dropping hints every ten minutes that they don't believe in love, or make sure to post as many pictures of themselves frowning as they can so that we do understand that they are "so sad, so very very sad".

To an emo kid or a flogger you are only as cool as you are depressed. Thus, depression is not a psychological problem, but the only way they know to pick up chicks. Their profile picture changes constantly because there are an infintismal number of ways you can frown at a camera and be convincing enough that you're still hurting over that boy or girl back in second grade who took your heart and your colored pencils and moved overseas, ruining your childhood, and forbidding the back of your head to grow equal lengths of hair with the front.

So there you have it. Take my advice: if you see a group of floggers or emo kids standing, lounging, or sitting in your path as you make your way down the halls at your local high school or on the sidewalk outside the mall, step with caution. You may slip in a puddle of their tears, unblock the sun so that it shines on them, or simply remind them what normal people look like. You don't want to end up as a bitter lyric quoted in the caption of their next photo shoot for their wall post, do you?