Thursday, January 9, 2014

Gay Marriage

With all the excitement and opposition of gay marriage going around here in Utah, I had some thoughts of my own. I have many questions, here are some:
Some people believe that homosexuals are going to go to hell for being a homosexual. A man should be with a woman, no exception. Except, what about people who are born with both male and female genitalia? What  choice do they have? Are they the only ones that don't have their sexual orientation predetermined for them? Since they have both genitalia, they get the choice of either one? If sexual orientation is so black and white, how is it that there are people with XXY and XO chromosomes? How are they going to get through the gates of Heaven? Most of the time when children are born with both genitalia, the Dr. will remove one of the two types. Is it at this time that their sexual orientation is determined? The Dr., a mere mortal determines that this person is a male therefore establishing that this person must mate with a female? When the Dr. could have just as easily removed the other type of genitalia? Is it he who decides the fate of the soul of this infant? And if this were true, that a Dr. can determine the proper sex of a person, why can't others? Is a medical degree required for such things? Would it be wrong for a man who loves other men to get a sex change? Would she then qualify to walk through the pearly gates? Changing her genitalia to "fit" her sexual orientation? Just a few thoughts of mine.

Friday, July 27, 2012

Canyon Drive


I had a dream the other night.
I was riding in a car that my family hasn’t owned for years. It was a really old mostly blue suburban. I say mostly blue because at least a quarter of the paint had chipped off over time revealing brown rust. I sat in the passenger seat of the vehicle while my brother Jace drove. We were in a canyon that was unfamiliar to us. It was snowing outside and the snow was just beginning to stick to the road as we entered the canyon. The further we drove, the deeper the snow became. The snow and our nerves were both increasing exponentially. We were driving quite slowly but eventually it didn’t seem to matter. We were going downhill as the road turned to the right. We just continued on forward despite the car’s efforts to turn. It was at this point that we realized there was nothing to stop us. There was an old fence made of only wood that looked quite feeble. On the other side of the fence was a cliff that was so high up we couldn’t even see the bottom. And just like that we hit the fence and continued over the cliff. There was a moment that the car seemed almost weightless. In that moment, so many things went through my head. Fear was clouding most of my thoughts, but I remember thinking that I could potentially open my door and jump to the side of the cliff and perhaps live. I then realized that only I would live and Jace would plummet to the bottom of the canyon. That thought froze my body. After that instant was over, I knew we were both dead in a matter of seconds. We started to gain speed. My stomach wrenched into my chest. Not because of fear, but because we were falling so fast. Surprisingly, I wasn’t afraid at all. I knew I was going to die. Dead doesn’t seem to frighten me. The thought of not knowing when death will come frightens me. I still couldn’t see the bottom, but I knew it had to be close. Death was seconds away and I was as calm as ever. I cleared my head and closed my eyes. I was ready to die.
Then I woke up.

Friday, April 27, 2012

The Vampire Diaries

I didn't think i'd hate a t.v. show more than I hated One Tree Hill, but unfortunately even that travesty was surpassed in the first few minutes of The Vampire Diaries. The acting is agonizing. The dialog makes me wheezy. Most of all though - what is the deal with author's vampire plots lately? I find it more likely for Vampires to actually exist than to have an immortal spend eternity going to high school. Are these authors suggesting that vampires died and are sentenced to high school Hell? I suppose that is more believable than a couple hundred year old person willingly spending the majority of their day interacting with snobby teenagers. Which brings up another interesting point. An 18 year old girl is legal for an adult to hook up with. A three hundred year old man and an 18 year old girl falling in love is super creepy though. If I knew there was a couple hundred year old man at my school hooking up with a bunch of girls, I would freak! Keep away from my sisters! Think about it. If a guy that old is so desperate for ass that he willingly sits through years of mind numbing high school drama for a chick... He is the biggest creeper on the planet.

Monday, February 20, 2012

Home Alone


“We’re leaving now, with or without you. I’m serious, and no one else will be here,” my mom says. I look over to see my mother giving me a look that says, “don’t try my patience.”
“Kay,” I mutter as I pick up my action figure in dramatic fashion and head for the stairs. I reach the top of the stairs and grab hold of the string to one of my father’s birthday balloons.  My father recently had a birthday. Although they are his balloons, he doesn’t seem as fond of them as I do. He leaves them at the house while he's at work so he doesn’t have much time to even play with them. He smiles each time he sees it bobbing along with me though.
I drop the toy as I walk through my doorway and head to the closet. All of my shoes are in my closet. My mom makes me put them there instead of by the front door. I have to walk all the way up to my room rather than just walk to the front door whenever leaving. I find the pair I need, drop them by my door to put them on. As I tie my shoes I realize my toy is missing a gun. I don’t see it anywhere nearby.
I leave the room and head down the stairs in search of the gun. I find it underneath the couch for whatever reason.
“Okay, ready?” My brother asks appearing from his room, then heading for the door in a rush.
“No,” I yell as I run up the stairs.
Something else is said but is muffled as I am already in my room. Suddenly I hear the door slam.
Panic hit me in an instant. “Wait for me,” I shout as I throw the gun down near the other toys
I reach the bottom of the stairs. Looking around for her, I yell, "Mom?"

Silence.

I run to the door, but I can’t open it. Had my brother locked the door? I don't know how to work it.  I am only six. I’ve never been home alone before. My mother wouldn’t leave me, would she? She looked very serious before though.
My heart is already pounding. My chest tightens as I focus my strength on twisting the doorknob. My face is flush from exertion. I suddenly stop, but my mind races on. Why are they leaving me? What am I supposed to do?
The back door! I run toward it. The back door is sliding glass. It isn’t locked. I slide the door open, jump through and shove it closed. I run around to the left side of the house. I realize something I should have already thought of. Of course, I’ll have to get past the fence.
“Mom?”
“Mom!”

Silence.

I never go in or out of the fence. I don’t know how this lock works. I’ll have to climb the fence; there is no other way of getting out. The brown wooden fence is almost twice my height without holes to crawl through.
I grip my string and the fence. With each new hand placement, I heave myself higher and higher up the fence. The fence is surprisingly easy to climb. However the longer I take, the harder it is to hang onto the string. There are lots of places to grip. I finally get to the top. I heave my left leg over and straddle the fence. I can finally see over the fence. I try to find my mom's car. I can only see a little of the driveway because of where it is in relation to the house. I can’t see the car anywhere. I tighten my legs to the fence and lean back a little to try and see more of the driveway. Maybe they really did leave. Right as I thought this, I could feel my weight shift and it felt as though I was going to fall back. I shoved myself forward and clutched the fence with my entire body. It hurt, but not nearly as much as falling back would have. I sigh with relief. I’m safe. Wait, I don’t feel the string. I look up and see only blue. There is a blue sky behind a blue balloon flying higher and higher.
I know it wont help, but I begin to call it back. The balloon doesn’t stop despite my pleading. I beg it to come back. It swirls back and forth, but continues ever higher. My eyes start to sting. Water is collecting at the bottom of my eyes. I cling even harder to the fence. I shut my eyes and let the tears flow. They form streams down my face and fall to the earth. No one is here to see though, I could cry for hours and no one would ever know.
I don’t know how long I cried, but I know that by the time I stopped, I was surprisingly cold. I was cold, but I hadn’t even realized it until I stopped crying. I rubbed my eyes and face dry, and hopped down into the back yard. I walked back into my house. Hours later my mother returned and asked why I hadn't join her. I told her that I wanted to just play at the house. I keep my crying to myself.

Silence.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Self-Esteem In Spite of Rejection

A really hot girl shot me down today. I loved it. It was thrilling. It doesn’t happen all that often, so it was refreshing. Obviously I would rather her say yes, but it’s nice to know I can walk up to a random girl and ask her to dinner. It’s also nice to know that she can say "no" the way she did. That might be confusing to some so let me explain.
Some girls seem to think it is mean to tell a guy right off that they don’t want to go out with him. In their minds maybe they think they should really give him a chance (even though in the long run they basically never do). Maybe they think they are being nice by not saying no, but it is actually the crueler course. If a girl tells a guy maybe, but knows in her head that it’s really a "no," then she is leading him on. She tells him there is a possibility, but there really isn’t. Yes, that is definitely a form of leading someone on. Clearly this is the coward’s way out because she can’t handle "hurting" him. In the end it will only hurt the guy even more. (If you’re thinking right now, well, sometimes it really is a maybe; you’re probably lying to make yourself feel better.)
If a guy is bold enough to ask a girl outright if she wants to go out then the girl should realize that that guy has the self-esteem to get rejected. If a guy doesn’t have the self-esteem to get rejected then he shouldn’t be asking a girl outright if they want to go out. Throughout time the guy will learn that or will adapt and will gain the self-esteem through enough rejections – what a nice paradox ☺
In conclusion:
Guys: if you can’t handle rejection, don’t ask a girl out. If you do ask and get rejected though, learn from it. You have to realize that not everyone on this planet is compatible with you. In fact not many people at all will work really well with one another. Realize this and rejection will no longer matter because through rejection you’re only narrowing your search. There are a lot of people out there so narrowing your search is essential.
Girls: if you don’t want to seem like a "demon woman", then say "no" when you know the answer really is a no.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Women: Inexplicable (to men)

I don’t understand women. Big surprise right?
Example of how complicated a simple thing about dating can get: I know a girl that prefers guys to ask her out via text. Another girl wont even go out with a guy if he asks her via text. As guys… how are we supposed to know one way or the other if we aren’t told?
Here is a perplexing story (for guys). Some girls the other day were talking about how ABSERD this one fellow in particular was. I either didn’t understand the situation fully or I completely don’t understand girls at all. One girl told a story about him and every other girl was like, “Ooooooh what a douchebag.” I was sitting and listening to them thinking… wait, that sounds completely normal to me. Am I a douchebag? Oh of course not… THEY just didn’t understand, right?
The problem I have with what they were thinking was that it would be completely normal for one fellow to act one way but completely odd for another fellow to act the exact same. It is contextual, so we can’t judge a situation based purely on our own experiences, we have to consider the other persons perspective. Easier said than done, I know.
Example: I realize that it is conventional for a man to open a door for women. I accept and follow this act as best I can. There is a step further though that I don’t agree with. Some men will park a car and have the girl wait in the car as he walks around the car to open her door. This I do not do. If a girl is so helpless or expects me to do even the simplest of “tasks” for her (if you can even call it a task), then I am not for her. BUT I don’t condemn men who do that (I just feel sorry for them). Sure it's respectful MAYBE, but it seems belittling to me. Some women seem to be all about equality when it gets them something – which makes sense, but not all about it when it means them doing more work… which also makes sense, but I just wanted to point it out. I am the way I am (in regards to opening doors) because of how I was raised I suppose and the other guys are how they are because of how they were raised – showing a certain level of “respect” to women. Now I would say one way is probably better than the other (possibly not my way, yes) but I wouldn’t say that we should dismiss someone just because they are one way or the other. Just because the guy is raised one way, doesn’t make him a “douchebag”.
On the flip side though, I should realize that it's fair that if a girl expects a guy to open every single door for them and he doesn’t… that she wouldn’t want to date him. Because I’m pretty sure if a girl sat in the car and waited for me to open her door… I would want to get back into the car and drive her straight home and gladly open my car door for her there. Good thing I own a motorcycle :)
Back to my point and making others look bad instead of me though…
After the girls went on about this guy, they decided to start talking about another guy that I actually knew. You know how people are always saying girls like guys who are dicks? I’ve known this was true for some time, but never realized to what magnitude. This guy is most likely the biggest dick I know. They were going off about how they love this second kid because he was funny and honest. I’m sure he is both funny and honest. Actually I definitely know he is funny, he is hilarious. But it’s ALWAYS at the expense of someone else (women in particular). And you know what their explanation was for that? Oh well that’s just the way he is, at least he is honest. Are you kidding me? That’s not justification, that’s fuel to the flame. I’d rather he was lying about all the things he says about people. At least that way he was a decent guy but a liar. This way he is an awful person and flaunts it. I admit that I am often thinking negative things about people, but I feel pretty comfortable in comparison to this fellow.
I just don’t understand women.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

A Statue Made of Stone

(A short story)
An exploding sound filled the air from behind me.
“Try and ease the screen door shut next time Adam,” I said.
Adam and I walked across of the yard, the dirt road and over the old wood fence that had slowly been chipped away by various horses’ teeth. I could tell about how many times that fence had been rebuilt by how many different types of wood that had been used.
“When my family had horses, this is where we would keep them when we came up to my cabin,” I told him.
He replied with, “This place is so tight. It’s really pretty.”
Guys our age wouldn’t normally talk about scenery being “pretty”, but this place was an exception. The mountains surrounded us on all sides with snow patches scattered on them. In the early summer, our pasture would become overwhelmed with yellow Dandy Lions. The flower that when I was younger, I would rub on someone’s skin and then laugh and tell them they looked like they had pee on them. Throughout the summer though, the Dandy Lions make way for thick green weeds. The weeds actually end up looking quite nice in a way. The pasture becomes a zoo-type garden for hundreds of types of weeds. I picked up a rock and was stunned by how cold it felt. I tossed it up to eye level and it appeared as though time stopped for a moment in order to let my rock spin in front of me as I watched. Then time resumed again and it fell back into my warm palm. I looked around in search of an object to throw my rock at. In the pasture there were about seven concrete posts spaced equally apart in a line that look as though they were once part of a fence. I pulled my arm back and threw the rock at the furthest post. The rock went past the post and about six feet too far to the right.
“Ha, close,” mocked Adam. He stopped and bent down to pick up a similar rock. He got into a pitcher’s stance. Looked at me and quickly nodded as if I’d gestured for him to actually hit the post. He threw the rock fast but it hit the ground a few feet to the left past the post. We both laughed a bit as we started to pick up various rocks and throw them at the post as we drew closer to it. We kept throwing rocks until we got close enough to just toss rocks to hit the post.
I found a large boulder, which looked almost too heavy to pick up. I tugged at the edging of the rock on one side with both hands. It finally gave in after a few grunts and tugs. The rock grinded against the smaller rocks and dirt beneath to give me slight chills from my arms to the back of my skull. I heaved the monster rock on top of the concrete post. He saw what I was doing so he picked up another rock about the same size.
“Let’s see how high we can get them,” he said after putting his on top of mine.
It was settled. We wanted to make the highest rock build-up this post would ever see. Not that anyone had ever done this before or would ever again that we knew of, but that was irrelevant. After we had each piled two rocks on, we realized we needed each others help to pile on the following rocks because of how high we would be lifting above our heads. The rocks were getting smaller and smaller with each new addition but the height of the creation would be too tall by the time we would be using pebbles. Once realizing this, the rocks that we added on dramatically reduced in size. Originally I’d imagined our creation looking like a Christmas tree with a trunk as long as it’s top half. It didn’t. Our statue was uneven in regards to rock size and the fifth rock from the bottom leaned far to the right. We compensated this by the seventh and eight rocks too far to the left. We then started tossing on pebbles randomly as if adding sprinkles to an ice cream cone.
Finally Adam said, “There, I don’t think we can add anymore.”
“Dude, we could put a few more on.”
The tallest rock was almost as high as my wrist if I were to hold my arm strait up.
“It’s about ready to fall,” he pointed out.
“I thought we were going to see how tall we could get it,” I say furrowing my eyebrows.
“Lets see how long it’ll stay up.”
“Yeah, fine,” I say reluctantly after giving our beautiful work another long look.
We tossed a few more “sprinkles” on and headed back to the cabin.
The next day at breakfast Adam agreed to go on a hike to see one of my favorite places on earth – a meadow on top of a mountain near the cabin. I grabbed a fanny pack, stuffed it with two granola bars, two Fruit Roll-Ups and put two water bottles in the cup-holders. We walked on the dirt road until we crossed the cattle guard. We then went through a small opening in a barbed wire fence.
“Oh man…” Adam complained and stopped at the bottom of the hill.
“We’ll be like a tenth of the way once we reach the trees up there,” I explained and pointed to where the forest started a quarter mile up hill.
“Oh that’s comforting, I don’t know if I want to reach the trees.”
“Come on…” I moan as I start up the grassy area scattered with rocks and fallen trees. I don’t look back but can hear Adam’s footsteps right behind mine. I smile then say, “Last year some of my older cousins and I went up the face, it’s basically all rock so it was pretty cool.”
“You went up the slide thing”?
“More like went up the side of it.”
“It’s ridiculously steep.”
“I know,” I say while chuckling to myself remembering how scary it was.
We made it to the trees where the real trail started. We sat on the ground to rest. I pulled out the water bottles and tossed Adam his. It’s nice just to sit in the shade and relax after hiking for some time, but then you almost regret it when someone says, “Alright, we better get movin’.”
The hike to the meadow was uneventful except for when we crossed the creek. I walked across the creek on the few rocks that were sticking out of the water by only an inch. When Adam tried this, he slipped on one. He wasn’t hurt, but his shoes got soaked. He couldn’t help but laugh with me after giving up on walking on dry rocks and telling me to shut up several times.
There wasn’t much talking after a while because we were both quite tired. Two hours and two Fruit Roll-Ups later we reached the meadow.
“Hmm, the Bluebells aren’t as tall as they usually are…” I said as I started to walk towards the center of the meadow. We walked around the meadow for half an hour or so feeling the curved tops of the bluebells. The bells looked too heavy for the plants so the tops of the plants sag a little. The Bluebell flower reminds me of how I look when I bring in groceries. I try and grab every bag possible and for some reason, always forget to consider the doors I’ll have to open. What a tiring life it must be carrying all that weight and not being able to rest in between loads to and from the car. The flowers aren’t just one flat blue hue. They range from sky blue to an eggplant color.
I laid down on the plants using my hands for a pillow and sighed as I looked up at the blue sky. I tried to take a nap, but sleep never came. Finally after about fifteen minutes I gave up. I opened my eyes and said, “Hey, let’s go look off the top.” “I’m so relaxed though… Alright, let’s go.”
We only had to walk up hill two minutes in order to reach the cliff. As we got near the edge, we stopped to peer out at the valley below. We could see worker ants that I supposed were herds of cattle and sheep. I pointed out a number of lakes that I liked to fish in. I pointed out a couple of cabins that I knew who owned them.
“That one is my cabin,” I said pointing to the tiny white roof.
“It really is a slide,” He said as he eyed dirt that stretched as far as what seemed to be a football field in length.
I turned my attention to the slide, seeing that his had. “Yeah, I’ve always wanted to go down it kind of,” I said.
He scoffed, “Yeah, I’ve always wanted to bleed to death skidding down rocks and dirt too.”
“Alright,” I chuckle, “Let’s just go down the way I came up with my cousins then,” indicating a path just right of the slide.
“You came up from right there?” He asked skeptically.
“Yeah, it’s not as bad once you get down a bit further, it’s cool.”
He looked off the edge another minute or so at the peaks surrounding us, perhaps thinking he would take his last look at beauty. “You go first.”
I smiled and turned to the right. We started to make our way down the side of the mountain. Where we started, most of the ground was made of dirt with a few small rocks scattered about. As we descended though, the rocks became bigger and bigger and we were starting to see less and less dirt. It wasn’t uncommon for a step to carry one of us a yard or so further down then intended.
“Heads up!” Adam suddenly shouted.
I looked up to see rocks trickling down in a mini avalanche that died down by the time it reached me. “Watch it! I’m below you,” I shouted back. I heard little giggles from above. I shot him a look and he was suddenly concentrating on his steps. We traveled like that for another minute and then I stopped. I looked up at him. He stopped because he could see I wanted to say something.
“What?” He asked impatiently.
“I don’t know if this is the way my cousins and I came up.”
He just looked at me with no change in expression. So I started to repeat myself.
He cut me off, “Yeah, I heard you but you’re an idiot. Which way did you come up?” He seemed irritated rather than alarmed. “I think we came up further to the left, we came up on huge rocks instead of lots of football sized ones.”
“Well let’s go to the left then.”
Easier said then done. We would have to cross the slide Adam wanted to avoid. I considered going back up to the top, and back the normal way, but we had already gone down so far.
On the slide there was mainly dirt compacted with rock imbedded into it. Adam crossed the dirt path with a run mixed with hops as if he were walking on hot coals and then settled next to a baby tree that had somehow survived near the slide. I walked up to where the rocks became few and far between by the slide and prepared myself on a rock the size of my head. All of a sudden the ground rushed up. I got a new sensation in my stomach, instant emptiness – a black hole. Before I knew it, I had also been sucked into the center of the fifteen-foot wide slide. Struggling to stand or find a place to grip, I was sliding with my back towards the ground like a crab walk, but more rather a crab fall. My brain just wouldn’t accept what my body seemed to give into instantly – death. It’s hard to focus when you feel death is inevitable. At first I was just flailing around a bit without a plan. Finally my body started working right as I tried digging my fingernails into the concrete hard dirt and I could feel them struggle to cling to me. I regretted trying to catch a hold with my nails the moment it actually happened. I finally caught hold of a rock with my middle finger nail, but really the rock got a hold of my nail, because I kept sliding, but my nail was left behind. The pain of losing a nail was more then I could handle. The pain sucked up all the strength in my left arm and I fell to my side trying to catch myself with three remaining limbs. The further I slid, the bigger the rocks became and bulged further out of the mountain. The speed I was going made the boulders seem like proximity mines, exploding on impact at the corner of my left shoulder blade. As a result, each impact slowed me down ever so slightly until my right arm caught a rock protruding particularly far out. I laid there for a moment coughing from the dirt and squinting at my right hand clinging to the rock, unsure of my next step. I was still at the center of the slide, my left arm was basically out of order and my right arm had become wobbly from fear and weakness.
“Hold on!” came a shout accompanied by echoes.
I’d forgotten for a moment that other people existed. I turned to see Adam rushing down the mountain on the left side of the slide about seventy feet above me. Devoting all my strength to my right arm still wouldn’t buy enough time for him to reach me. I pulled my shaky left hand to my face to observe my finger and regretted it instantly. Dirt had begun to mix with my blood to become just one clump. My finger seemed to weigh as much as the rest of my body. I skidded my feet back and forth feeling for a rock to further secure my hold. My left foot nicked something hard just barely within reach. I lowered myself onto the rock then exhaled deeply after realizing I’d been holding my breath while searching for a foothold. I reached for my waist and realized before I’d even grabbed at the holes where the water bottles should be, that they were gone. Sometime while sliding, the bottles had slipped away without me realizing. I couldn’t even wash off my finger. I leaned on my right hand and sat up. Adam was almost directly to my left. I started eying my surroundings looking for another path across the slide. I stood, leaning to accommodate the slope. I hopped to the first rock in my path, and then the second. The second rock was flimsy and made a grinding sound as it shifted under my weight.
“Abandon ship!” I shouted as I lunged forward in my panic to get across the slide. I landed on all fours as Adam grabbed me just above my left elbow. “Ow!” I winced and pull my left hand off the ground to my chest to comfort it as if it were a crying baby. “AHHH!” I screamed towards the slide and watched the rocks I’d used as stepping-stones tumble down. They rolled down the hill jumping up and down as if they were skipping like I should have been in the meadow.
“I’m done with this,” Adam said.
“Yeah,” I agreed as I laid down to rest for what I wanted to be the rest of my life.
After a few minutes we got up and headed further left around the face, running and hoping to the nearest tree until we no longer had to run and hop. The trees began to thicken and we found the trail easy enough.
As we walked on the calm trail I said, “This isn’t the way we came either. I must have gone up much further to the right.” Adam just grunted, “Huh.”
Not much was said as we trudged down the trail, my right arm uncontrolled and bouncing to the rhythm of my steps. My left arm was restricted of movement because I had wrapped my brown finger in the bottom of my shirt. We reached the dirt road and looked back up into the face of death.
Adam started to laugh. “You were all, ‘ABANDON SHIP!’” He mocked with a smile.
I smiled but couldn’t get myself to laugh yet. We started our way back to the cabin. We finally got in view of the horse pasture, which reminded me of our statue so I turned toward the field.
“Dude, they’re still up there,” I said matter-of-factly referring to the rocks.
“Let’s make it taller then,” he said with a smile.
Finally a laugh escaped me. I started running towards the fence with Adam right at my heels. I tugged my finger out of my shirt to climb the fence at full speed. We started to eye our stone statue.
I asked, “How many more rocks do you think we can get up there?”
“Lets find out,” he said as he picked up a rock to observe it’s stacking capabilities.
I picked up a rock that fit nicely in my palm and tossed it up to eye level just to watch time stop.

THE END