32,000 Feet High!

Guess what! I’m writing this post from 32,000 feet in the air! That’s right...I’m on one of the new Delta WiFi-On-Board aircraft! As my dad and I were sitting at the gate waiting to board our flight to Las Vegas, a lady passed around some free internet passes (usually it’s $4.95 for the entire flight). I definitely couldn’t say no to that. So, a few minutes (and vertical miles) later, here I am on the internet somewhere over central Utah. Well until later, peace out!

The Big House

Well...that's it. If you don't see me for a while, it's because I'm probably going to the clinker. Yup. Apparently I broke Federal Law. How, you ask? Well, I was using a package of Kirkland Signature Wipes, and I didn't follow the directions with exactness. The instructions tell the user to wipe dirt away with a cloth then use a clean wipe to wet the surface and keep it wet for five minutes to disinfect, using more wipes if necessary. I'm afraid that I only kept my counter wet for a total of four minutes and forty-five seconds. How could this possibly be against federal law? Well after my counter dried completely I continued to read the packaging, and it stated: "It is a violation of federal law to use this product in a manner inconsistent with its labeling." So it looks like I've done myself in. Since it's printed so plainly on the label, my guess is that a federal agent watched me commit the crime and that's them pulling up in my driveway right this second. I can only turn off the lights and hide for a short time; I know he'll come in to arrest me anyway. If he knew I misused the wipes, he'll definitely know that I'm in here typing away on my blog! It looks as if this will be the end to my days as a free man. I'll have to be locked up with other people who may have accidentally not repeated after washing and rinsing with their shampoo, or people who used a Lysol Wipe to clean a wood surface, even though the label said not to. 


Quick! I hear him coming now! Does anyone know a good I-didn't-read-my-cleaning-product-label-all-the-way attorney? 

The Second S: Strangers

Living out of a suitcase, waking up each morning in a different hotel, and eating no home-cooked meals can all lead to insanity. While traveling, one has to search for different paths to entertainment each day. However, one can only flip through every channel on television, google "how to avoid boredom in a hotel room," jump on the bed, or call the front desk and room service so many times before these normally fulfilling tasks become mundane. That constant search for something to do is the life of a business traveler; in fact, sometimes the only sanity a business traveler can acquire is borrowed.

So far this trip, I have been away from home for seven nights, and I have three more ahead. I've eaten the last twenty-two meals at a restaurant or hotel, stayed in five different hotels, become used to four different television channel lineups, read an entire novel, watched four movies, and talked face-to-face with only about fifteen people total whom I already know (actually, most I don't really know; I've just met them previously). To keep sane, I've had to rely on the kindness of strangers.

I'm surprised how many strangers are so wonderfully hospitable. All I've had to do is mention to someone that I'm from out of town and alone, and they go out of their way to make me feel more at home. That was definitely the case yesterday when I toured the historic St. George Utah Tabernacle. A fun older sister missionary from Boise, Idaho, serving in St. George with her husband, took me on a personal tour of the amazing, pioneer-crafted building. We spent about a half-hour talking about the history of the area, the building itself and the Gospel, but also chatted about the little things. And sometime's it's the little things that make you feel right at home.

Speaking of little things, I've spent the majority of the past few months traveling in the small towns of Utah and Wyoming. And I mean small. I visited some friends in Cokeville, Wyoming (population a whopping 488) to visit Joe & AnnMarie, a couple of old friends, which was one of the smallest towns ever. Joe would beg to differ. He grew up in the town of Veteran, Wyoming that currently has a population of 28. Anyway, sometimes I've really had to search for things to occupy my spare time, and I'm very lucky to have a group of recruiters from other schools I've been traveling around with. In fact, a couple other recruiters and I, who have gone from strangers to good friends in the period of three months, spent one evening in Vernal trying to think of fun things to do with hotel bedding. Again...it's the little things!

My advice to you fellow business travelers is to search out friendly-looking strangers. Almost everyone will be willing to help you find something fun, and many of them will invite you to do something with them! Befriending strangers can be one of your greatest adventures if you just step out of that shell!

Two S's and an A; or, Surviving Business Travel

Traveling alone on business can be a boring ordeal. Hotel room after hotel room. Packing, unpacking, and packing again. Listening to the drone of pavement on rubber mile after never-ending mile. And all this to do nothing but work. Alone.

When I started my latest job, I had mixed feelings about being on the road all the time. I was excited to see places I’d never been before, nervous to be doing it al alone, and a little apprehensive about working with people from many other institutions. If I was going to not only endure, but enjoy the three months of the high school tour, I’d have to figure out a system to survive. Well, here I am with one week left, and I believe I’ve concocted a doozy. Are you ready for the most revolutionary theory to ever be invented by a business traveler? Here it is: Two S’s and an A (be careful not to mix that up...I don’t ever want my brilliant idea to ever be thought of as the

“ASS” theory because I’m not a vulgar person...it’s the “SSA” theory. In that order. Always.). Have i piqued your curiosity? Two S’s and an A stands for Spontaneity, Strangers, and Audiobooks.

Spontaneity

I hadn’t realized how spontaneous I’d become until tonight. Tonight’s my second of two nights in Cedar City, Utah – a typical “meh” city. What’s a “meh” city, you ask? Well, it’s one of those towns that’s too large to be considered rural, to remote to be considered suburban, and not even the size of a typical neighborhood in an urban city like New York. A “meh” city is a city in which you ask a local where to shop for something you’ve left at home, and they decisively reply “Walmart.” I’m sure you’ve been to one in your life. Cedar City, in fact, is on the high-end of a “meh” city because it now officially contains a Holiday Inn Express, a Springhill Suites by Marriot, and a Hampton Inn. It’s obviously going somewhere...just not too quickly. The term “meh” comes from the question that is something to the effect of “how was (insert city name here)?” Undoubtedly, when visiting a city such as this, one will answer nothing but... “Meh.”

Anyway, I searched for the atypical things to do in Cedar City, the things that a tourist wouldn’t necessarily find interesting, I didn’t discover much. So, I resigned myself to do something a little more touristy. I visited Cedar Breaks National Monument. It was magnificent! Upon heading east on Center Street in Cedar City, you won’t find yourself stopping at the edge of civilization, but instead will traverse the twists and turns up a canyon decorated with iron-rich red dirt and always-green cedar trees. Approximately twenty miles up the scenic byway I turned into Cedar Breaks. I had heard of the breathtaking beauty and I didn’t see anything but trees and a couple boarded-up buildings as I pulled into the park. However, I quickly found a small trail, and twenty yards later, I was awestruck. I came a small cliff that overlooked a fiery valley of towering stones and jagged cliffs whose vibrant orange and red was only slightly tamed by the delicate blankets of snow scattered about. I snapped some photos, hoping to capture the beauty that would inevitably become the background of my computer screen, before pursuing another trail up a slight hill to my left. Though my way was plagued with patches of dirty snow, putrid mud that seemed to be twelve feet deep, and a wind that would chill the bravest of Eskimos (did I mention that I was wearing only a T-shirt because it was about seventy degrees in the city?), the view on the next ledge was even more spectacular. A few more pictures, however, and I was on my way out of the bitter cold back to the city.

As I pulled into the parking lot of my hotel, I glanced at the clock. An hour and ten minutes had passes since I left. That’s it. This was proving to be a very long and uneventful night. I then asked the young lady at the front desk where to eat and proceeded to head back up the canyon for a meal at Rusty’s Ranch House. A meal for which I’m still suffering from an overly-full belly (put ribs and steak on the same menu, and I’m a goner). After I finished my gluttony of a meal, I walked out of the restaurant, witnessing all the glittery stars, and glanced back toward the city where I saw four searchlights dancing around in the night sky. Generally, at home, I would have ignored these lights and headed for home, but curiosity got the better of me. I drove through town with one eye on the road and the other in the sky, occasionally losing the lights due to an annoying streetlamp or two, and was excited for what I may come across.

Now, I’m not going to tell you what I stumbled upon at the end of my wild goose chase because that’s not the point. The point is I was spontaneous enough to follow roaming beams of light to their source. For all I knew it would be an enormous rave where I would be the snitch who called the police to get the multi-million dollar drug ring out of town. It could have been the opening of Utah’s first legal casino. It could have even been the premiere of a debuting Hollywood Movie. So I followed the lights, being especially spontaneous and avoiding the boredom that awaited me in my hotel room. Spontaneity can truly be the business traveler’s best friend by breaking up the monotony of meetings, suitcases and hotel rooms as it has proven to be to me.

Wow. I see I’ve exhausted your eyes from reading my brilliant words of wisdom. I suppose we’ll just have to leave Strangers and Audiobooks for next time. Until then, Adieu.

I dit it...

Okay...I did it, and it's about time. I officially deactivated my Facebook account.

Did you just fall of your chair in surprise??? I thought so. I've long been one of those people who made fun of others for either not having Facebook or getting rid of their accounts. Now I'm the one who's officially a loner. I've just had it. Too many people can know WAY too much about you if you're on Facebook. Plus, it's just too much of a waste of time...after all, you can only spend so many hours playing scramble. So, in lieu of the good ol' social networking craze, I'll stick to the blogging. Now – who knows – I'll probably have more time to blog!

Summer's End

I realize that I have not been as diligent as I should be at writing this blog, and I deeply apologize to all of you that depend on Babbling Blather for your daily dose of pure joy (yes, I'm sure you're out there...somewhere), but it's been Summer. During summer I flip my brain's switch off and try not to think. At all. Alright, obviously it's impossible not to think at all, but I do try to at least dim the switch a bit so I don't wear my thinker out during the school year. After all, I've got at least seven more years of school before I get that Ph.D., and a worn-out noggin would be catastrophic.

But that's all about to change. Why? Because I've been seeing dreadful-yet-happy signs of Autumn. While walking at my cabin last weekend, I noticed the first sign: the crisp smell of aspen leaves changing from bright green to subdued yellows and browns. It wasn't quite the enveloping aroma that comes with raking leaves, but the small whiffs were everywhere. Oh, and don't worry...it snowed Saturday Morning, too. Also, while spending a couple of days at North Fork up Ogden Canyon, I saw a few orange and red leaves. Don't worry, though. Most of the trees are still holding out for September. They have the right attitude.

Of course, seeing the signs of Fall in the mountain's isn't a huge deal because it takes a while for the season-change to creep to the lower elevations. However, as I was searching for a stall in the McKay-Dee Hospital parking lot the other day (no...I'm not sick. I was there for lunch. What? Are you judging me because I went to the hospital for lunch? Shame on you. $4.45 is an amazing price for meat, two sides and a roll!...sorry...random) I looked toward the east and saw the big one: half of the trees on the hospital grounds have begun turning yellow! It actually depressed me for a split second, until I began reliving the amazing Summer I've had.

In May, I traveled to New York for a few days and experienced the sights and sounds of the Big Apple.

In July, I ventured to San Francisco for a night with some buddies. We stayed in a 4-star hotel, walked across the Golden Gate Bridge, ate sourdough bread on the Wharf, experienced my first taste of Chinatown (including a delicious Pork Bao), witnessed the San Francisco Giants' first No-Hitter since 1976, rode a roller coaster on a beach boardwalk, swam in the ocean, got lost and therefore traveled up the beautiful coastline and through a redwood forest, and, most importantly, ate at In-N-Out Burger.

Also in July and into August, my mom, brother, and I took a road trip to Vegas where I experienced casino gaming for the first time in my life, and subsequently lost my shirt (after winning a small jackpot on a Wheel-of-Fortune Machine). I tried pâté for the first time at a Vegas Breakfast Buffet, ate at In-N-Out twice, and, most spectacularly, made it from St. George to Ogden without one bathroom break!

I've also gone to the Cabin many times, read some great books, spent a night in three 4-star hotels, discovered Priceline.com and all of its goodness, started an internship which will continue through the fall semester, watched my first Blu-Ray movie, learned more Photoshop and photography tips and tricks, played soccer in a downpour, scored a goal or two in a soccer game (which is more than I ever did while playing in elementary school), flown on six planes, visited six states (including layovers), and even found time for a couple of naps. I think that explains why I haven't been writing all that much.

So, as you can see, I've had an adventurous Summer, and I'm semi-sad for it to end, but I've made memories that will last a lifetime. In fact, my break from school isn't even coming to an end because of my internship (I'm not starting school again until January). I'm having even more adventures this fall including traveling throughout Utah and visiting places I've never seen, recruiting at dozens of High Schools for the University I love, visiting two states I've never been to (Oklahoma and Texas), going to Jackson Hole and many other parts of Western Wyoming, spending about six weeks on the road for work, and who knows what else! It looks like Fall is going to turn into an even bigger adventure than Summer! But hopefully I'll have more time to write.

Photo Blog

Hi All Ya'll! Wuzzuuuup? I just thought I'd let you know that I've started a blog for my Photography and Graphic Design. I'd love it if you'd head over there and check it out, too (be sure to follow it as well). I'll be posting updates regularly as well as some special deals!

http://naphotodesign.blogspot.com/

Let me know what you think! Thanks!

My University

As a high school junior, I came to the realization that choosing a university to attend would be a decision effecting the rest of my mortal life. Many universities are liberal while many are conservative. Many have a plethora of social opportunities, while others focus mainly on academics. A few have a large population of LDS students while many don’t. I knew that making this decision could mean more than I ever realized.

My junior year, like those of millions of kids all around the world, was difficult. However, I became acquainted with some amazing people that knew how to dream big. Ashton Goodell, a senior at the time, was preparing to pursue her dream to become a broadcast journalist. She was to attend the University of Missouri where she would major in Political Science and Journalism. Ashton is now a successful member of a team of anchors for KTUU News in Alaska. She taught me to seek an institution that can take me places. Another friend, Ashley Linford, was preparing to attend Utah State University, where she would be a member of a Freshman Interest Group, or FIG. These groups help freshmen assimilate to college life while getting them involved in leadership positions and activities they enjoy. Ashley showed me the importance of getting involved, no matter where I went.

My cousin Peter was attending Arizona State University, one school that is famous (or infamous) for its social life. He was a member of the prestigious honors school where he was exposed to rigorous coursework and new ideas. Another acquaintance of mine, Claire Cain, was attending New York University, where she was studying music. Friends all around me were choosing Snow College, Utah State University, University of Utah, BYU, and many other institutions.

I witnessed people all around me make the decision of where they were going to college, how they wanted to spend the duration of their careers, and how they were going to support future families, yet I was stumped. I had no idea where I would attend because I had no idea what I wanted. I faced the task of choosing a school to attend the next four-plus years of my life. I put hundreds of hours into researching universities around the nation and compiled a list: 1. New York University. 2. Columbia University. 3. Brigham Young University. 4. Utah State University. 5. Arizona State University. 6. Weber State University. That’s right. Weber State was the very last on my list of choices.

From day one, I was indoctrinated to Weber State University, the institution both of my parents had attended. My dad has been announcing games at WSU since 1976 and worked there since shortly after graduating. I attended almost every sporting event between the ages of 0 and 16. Worst of all, I hated it. I couldn’t stand the fact that everywhere I went people assumed I was going to Weber because of “who I was.”

So I started on my quest. I talked to everyone I could who attended NYU, Columbia, BYU, USU, and ASU. I visited campuses, watched online presentations, kept in contact with admissions officers, and set out choosing universities to which I’d submit applications. I’m confident my parents weren’t too excited with my list. They wanted me to attend Weber because it was close to home, we wouldn’t have to worry too much about money (since my Dad works on campus, tuition is 50% off). I didn’t listen.

One day I received an invitation from BYU to attend a Y-Weekend. These invitations are the University’s only attempt to recruit students (other that athletic purposes) because, honestly, they don’t have to recruit. I spent the weekend in a hotel right across from campus, attended classes, toured the campus, met other future-cougars, and learned what campus life would be like at the Y. The verdict? I despised my experience in Provo. The classes we visited were enormous. The tour guides were proud of the fact that their freshman English and History classes topped three hundred students. The campus was huge...huge enough that no matter how many times we traipsed across the main drag, I still got lost. Worst of all, the students were pompous. They basically believed that you couldn’t be a true Mormon if you didn’t attend BYU. BIG turn off.

After e-mailing many admissions and scholarship offices back east and realizing they wouldn’t be too willing to hold admissions, let alone scholarships, for two years while I went on a mission. I also started crunching numbers and realized how expensive $40,000 a year for tuition really is. Rule out NYU and Columbia.

With only a few schools left on my list, I had no idea where I would turn. My dad suggested I meet with Lori Drake, a past admissions officer and current head of Enrollment Services at the WSU Davis Campus. Though I was extremely hesitant to meet with her, my dad assured me she would not try to convince me to go to Weber, but would just help me with my decision.

I met with Lori one afternoon and she helped me weigh my options. We looked at money, atmosphere, majors, and every other conceivable decision maker. Ultimately, after a lot of soul searching, I went against everything I had previously believed and only applied to Weber State University.

That decision has been the best decision I’ve ever made. Because of my choice of WSU, I’ve been able to be an Admissions Ambassador (recruiting students and leading freshman orientation groups); serve on two institute committees; serve on the homecoming planning committee; be a student representative to the Shepherd Union Building Board; serve on the orientation advisory committee; present a break-out session at a regional conference of the National Orientation Directors Association in Cheyenne, Wyoming; work as the Apple Campus Rep (and even travel to their corporate headquarters for training); build relationships with not only my direct supervisors, but the university’s president, provost, associate-provost, admissions director, and numerous deans, department chairs, and academic advisors. I’ve taken an honors class with a whopping seven students, where I was able to work directly with the professor to help design an experiment with e coli and essential oils. I’ve forged strong friendships with three student body presidents. I’m known to almost every one of my professors, past or present, by my first name. I’ve been quoted in the school and community newspapers. I’ve written and designed a parent orientation guidebook to be given to each parent that attends Freshman Orientation. I’ve designed conference programs and agendas for different organizations. I’ve assisted with a U.S. presidential campaign through my associations with the WSU College Republicans. I’ve coordinated a joint effort on a Cell Phones for Soldiers Drive with the WSU Environmental Club. I led the Ambassador group as the co-president, planning retreats, trainings, and weekly staff meetings, as well as making important forward-looking decisions that affected the entire program. I’ve been a member of a team of recruiters, admissions officers and ambassadors that has increased enrollment at WSU by great numbers. I’ve made friends, gone to parties, eaten free food, and lived everything else that encompasses the college life; all while being paid to go to school by receiving and keeping two full-ride scholarships.

That’s just me: one student at a great university. Thousands of students have even greater experiences than these. Weber State University is not an institution to be snuffed at. Here are just a few facts about the school:

• The Radiology Program is rated #2 in the nation. Want to know who’s number one? Johns Hopkins University...not a very small name, is it?
• The Goddard School of Business and Economics is accredited by the AACSB - the premier accreditation board for business schools in the world. Other schools that have received the same accreditation? Harvard. Yale. Columbia. Sound familiar?
• Weber State University’s Automotive Technology program is one of FOUR in the nation.
• Weber State was the first university to send a satellite (NewSat 1) into space without the help of NASA.
• Warren Buffet hosts WSU finance majors at an annual lunch in Omaha, after they attend the Berkshire Hathaway annual meeting.
• Kimberly Waite, a WSU Sophomore, was invited to study abroad in Salzburg Austria where she was one of very few students that studied opera for the summer. She now has scholarship offers for the Cleveland School of Music, one of the most prestigious conservatories in the nation, as well as numerous others.
• WSU’s Kimball Visual Arts Building has the largest Darkroom in the State of Utah.
• WSU’s English Department hosts the nations only undergraduate literature conference.
• WSU offers an education to students who would never have otherwise received a degree.
• More WSU Students are placed into Medical and Dental Schools per capita than any other university in the State of Utah.
• WSU has state-of-the-art facilities on a beautifully landscaped campus that allows you to walk from class to class in less then ten minutes...no matter where your class is.
• The WSU Student Association has brought Boys Like Girls, One Republic, The Hush Sound, and other top-rated bands for entertainment of the student body.
• WSU Students have been accepted into every major law school in the U.S.

Weber State University, as you can see, is not an institution that should be brushed off. It gives thousands of people a world-class education every year and gives people like me experiences of a lifetime. I’ve been through all the motions that a student should in choosing a university. I realize that I am just one student, and many different schools are great for many different people, but next time you’re about to refer to Weber State University as “just Weber,” think again.

Evil in the Next Room

Okay. I can do this. As I sit here typing, pure evil lurks in the next room. Waiting. Whispering to me. Telling me to come take one bite. Playing with all my emotions at once. Talking, then yelling for me to come. NO!

Today in the office, we're celebrating the last day at work of a ready-to-go missionary that leaves next week. He decided to bring doughnuts--sweet, sugary doughnuts--for everyone to share in this special day. Normally, I'd be psyched to dig in to a bavarian creme stuffed, chocolate-topped piece of deliciousness. However, I got back on the bandwagon this week. I'm determined to be healthy; to eat less junk; to lose weight that seems to come on with more fight every time. But the doughnuts are beckoning. Of course the only two left would be bavarian creme-filled and cake with sugar sprinkled on the outside...my two favorites. I did get past the craving for Pizza that came when Fran bought pie and breadsticks for the office. Now I just have to get past these evil doughnuts lurking in the next room. I can do it. I must do it. I WILL DO IT!

I'm leaving; going home to a bowl of sugar-free, fat-free chocolate pudding. Pudding loves me. Pudding wouldn't deceive me like those hideous doughnuts that add pounds faster than you can chew. Pudding and then dinner. Done and done.

Cogs

As I sat in my office working today, a thought came to me. This wasn't a horribly profound thought or anything life-changing, but it was interesting. I thought about how a University works. Weber State University has 21,000 students—the size of some small towns! Those 21,000 students all have some needs: the need for academic advising, the need for orientation, the need to have professors, the need to have books, the need for a computer network, etc. To cater to these students, WSU employs about 1,000 faculty/staff, including me. What I thought as I was working was the amazing ability such an institution (and larger ones at that) has of bringing hundreds of people together to educate thousands of people each year.

At work today, I composed a new pamphlet for a parent orientation for new parents (you know...they have to be orientated to ;-) ). Anywho...it came to my attention that this job is small. Of all of the students that attend WSU, about 30% attend orientation. Of those 30%, very few have parents that attend a parent orientation. In essence, very few people were going to see what I had spent all of that effort composing. Then came the real thinking...Imagine all of the people on this campus doing something small like I'm doing. All of these really small things make up the experience that is Weber State University. That's who we are: a large university with a small-town atmosphere. That's why I wrote that brochure: to influence the few parents that need to know their kids are going to be alright.

I am SO excited to continue a career in higher education. Education is one of the most rewarding career fields I could ever think of entering, and higher education is amazing. I hope to be one of the bigger cogs toward the head of a University Machine some day, but until then, I'll be the little cog that does a small job. I love it.

Tearing My Ears Off & Eating My Hat

When I was younger, I positively detested riding with my dad to school in the mornings. This wasn't because I didn't enjoy the conversation, or that I was embarrassed by the Mormon Assault Vehicle (Minivan) he drove. Actually these were both pluses; the MAV could plow through just about anything traffic threw at it, and I loved talking to my dad. No, the real reason was talk radio. Listening to Grant and Amanda every morning made me want tear the ears right off the side of my head. Nothing could possibly be more boring to a youngster on his way to elementary school than the goings on of the political world. I always wondered why Dad couldn't be more like Mom and listen to normal stuff—like, perhaps, MUSIC—in the car.

Fast-forward about ten or fifteen years to my semi-recent discovery: The Nightside Project. This nightly radio show is a commentary by two men (Ethan Millard and Alex Kirry) who, like the majority of Utahns, are fairly conservative. These two men, unlike a few other conservative daytime talk radio hosts whom I admittedly agree with most of the time, simply offer their thoughtful opinions on current events and listen to what others have to say. I've even heard them change their opinions once or twice (shocking in a world of Sean Hannity). The show is geard toward twenty-somethings and is truly entertaining most nights.

Well, my life has been in a downward spiral of nerdiness ever since my discovery of the Nightside Project, and I may be eating my hat when I say, "I ENJOY TALK RADIO!!!" I KNOW! It goes against everything that I ever stood for as a fun-loving elementary school student, but I find it entertaining and enjoyable. There. I've said it. Ridicule me all you wish.

Along with Nightside, I've discovered the beauty of National Public Radio; a.k.a. the geekiest form of talk-radio ever to grace the planet. Shows like This American Life, Wait Wait...Don't Tell Me, and All Things Considered are not only pre-set on my car radio, but I download the podcasts! Interestingly, listening to these programs makes me feel smarter. I learn more random facts and news stories from listening to NPR than I ever could surfing the internet or reading the newspaper. In case you're interested in what one can learn from glorious NPR, here are some facts that I've recently learned:

Even nations as disconnected from the Western World as Afghanistan fear during times of pandemic. The recent world trouble with the Swine Flu has led to the quarantine of Afghanistan's only pig. Yes, you read that correctly. Due to the predominant religion's abstention from pork, pigs are illegal, and there is only ONE PIG in the entire nation of Afghanistan. It lives safely in a Zoo in Kabul, but is now under quarantine so no one will contract the Swine Flu from a pig that has never been in contact with another pig SINCE BIRTH. Sounds crazy to me. Don't believe me? Check this link.

In the United Kingdom, potato chips are sold with a so-called "value-added tax" to which many snack foods are subjected. Proctor & Gamble went to court trying to get the nation NOT to recognize the snack as a potato chip. Wait...what? P&G markets Pringles as potato chips, but it wants the high court of The UK to see it otherwise because only 40% of the snack food is made of potatoes. The court thought differently. Here's the proof.

For those of you voyeuristic nut jobs out there, you'll be happy to know that the next time you go to Disneyland, you may chance upon a photograph of a woman flashing the camera because due to budget cuts, the Magic Kingdom will no longer employ photo checkers to make sure people do not expose themselves on the last hill of Splash Mountain. For the rest of us...it's not really news, but something funny to talk about, for sure! Check it out.

Yes, NPR is extremely educational, but it can definitely expand your knowledge in ways that you would never think. Check it out sometime!

The Inner Child...(I know this is long, but it's worth it! It'll change your life...or something!)

I am old. I mean ancient. I'm past the point of "You're so much taller!" or "My, how you've grown." Gone are the days of "You're going to look just like your father when you grow up," and "Aren't you just so excited for [insert life event here]?" Now are the days of "When do you graduate?" and "When are you getting married?" I'm as old as dirt, the mountains, and the oldest trees in the forrest, or at least that's how I feel. I turned the big two-one earlier this month, and now I feel like I have to grow up...or something horrible like that.

Did you know it's statistically proven that you start dying at 21? It's true! And it's not just because that's the legal age to drink, gamble, and do everything else possible to endanger your life. Think about it for a second: from the time you're born until the time you hit 21, you learn an entire language, you begin school, you go through numerous growth spurts, you experience that lovely eternity known as puberty, you start dating, you make choices that will affect the rest of your life; in essence, you grow. Once you hit 21, it all stops. The only things left growing are various appendages (you know...old men's ears are the size of an elephant's, and they have more hair in them) and your gut (for almost everyone).

Twenty-one is the last major "milestone" birthday for at least nine years, and that's only if you count thirty as a milestone...forty (or fifty...depending on who you talk to) is the "over the hill" age, at fifty five you officially become a senior citizens and can therefore spend less money while eating out at 4:00 pm, and at 62, you're even more official. Twenty-one is basically it. You're a legal adult. You're responsible...or at least you're supposed to be.

I am ancient. Period. Well...I may not be as ancient as some, but I'm still picking old! So I've made a decision: I'm going to let my inner child come out and experience life! For my twenty-first birthday, my friends looked at me extremely inquisitively when I announced to them that my birthday party would be held at Chuck E. Cheese's. "No, really...where is it?" was what I got most often. Let me just say...it was a total blast! Since I don't drink, gamble, do drugs, etc., Chuck E. Cheese's seemed like the perfect place to go, and when my friends finally loosened up and started putting their tokens in the Ski-ball machines, they began to agree.

Exercising your inner child is one of the most important things you can do in your life. I've decided that while I'm still single, I'm going to experience life as God intended it...beautiful and spontaneous. Second Nephi says, "Adam fell that men might be, and men are that they might have joy." Have joy in your life! Experience everything it has to offer! Go to Chuck E. Cheese without children one day, and bask in the glares that seem to scream "CHILD MOLESTER!!! GO HOME!" Travel the world! Drive down to In-N-Out Burger in St. George just because you can! Breathe in the air of different cities as often as you can! I'd like to propose a little academic theory: "Men need to breathe air from different areas of the planet to stay alive." Seriously! Sometimes you just have to get out and do something different.

As you experience new things, the child inside you is awakened and you will live a happier, more productive life. Exposure to the unknown is what children thrive in, and it's because it stimulates your brain, makes you want to learn, and makes you grow! If any of you have seen the recent movie Yes Man, you'll realize how much his life changed by simply making the decision to say "Yes" to opportunities that present themselves. Do it! You don't have to say yes to things that are morally compromising, that might endanger yours and others lives, that are against your religious beliefs, or that you just plain don't want to do, but do say yes. It makes a world of difference in the everyday, mundane life. Try it. Seriously. No...don't listen to that voice that's telling you it's a bunch of crock. Do it. It's helped me a ton!

Over a Month??? I'm horrible.

It has officially been a month and ten days since I posted last, and I'm a bit ashamed of that...but here's my official apology post:

I'm So So So So So So So So So So So So So So So So So So So So Sorry for no posting in a month and ten days. I apologize from the bottom of my butt, because it's the biggest part on me (ba-dum pshhh).

Have I ever told you how weird I am? Well, you don't have to take my word for it. I'm leaving for New York City in 7 DAYS, 19 Hours, and 10 Minutes, and I'm pumped! That's mostly because I'm going to see the filming locations of my favorite movie: You've Got Mail! I've honestly spent quite a bit of time tracking down these locations, and I'm quite excited to check them out! If you want to check all of my trip experiences out, head over to my travel blog: Roaming Ramblings where I'll post all of my travel updates.

I've decided something over the last little while. Life is too short to just tolerate; we should be living it to its fullest! Being a 21-year-old college student is one of the best opportunities I have in life to experience new things, and I truly believe that we need to experience everything we can in this life. So, I'm starting up that travel blog that will have all of my journeys posted on it. Let me tell you of some other experiences I've had though...

Last Friday, we had a foam dance at WSU. That's right foam. The area below the bell tower on campus was completely filled with bubbles, and it felt like I was being hosed down in the local car wash. If you haven't ever experienced a foam dance, I highly recommend it. Observing people when they have the opportunity to return to their childhood (especially playing with bubbles) is quite entertaining. I saw everything from people doing push-ups in the suds to girls trying to take pictures of their newly-acquired white beards.

When I was little, you know...bath tub age, I played with all sorts of toys in the bathtub, and did every imaginable thing with the bubbles. My favorite toy was a turkey baster. At our cabin, Parker was well-known for his escapades with a turkey baster in bath tub at our cabin. As I was cuddled up with my dad, reading a book in front of the fire and listening to Kenny Loggins's lullaby CD, all of a sudden the peace would be gone because of a loud "tooting" sound (for lack of a better word) followed by Parker, yelling at the top of his lungs, "EXCUSE ME!!!" He had placed the turkey baster under his leg and simulated a malodorous event...if you know what I mean.

Another recent blast-from-the-past was my opportunity to chaperone Bonneville High's choir tour to San Francisco. Wow...was I ever as loud an obnoxious as high school kids are now? I sure hope not. Don't get me wrong, I had a total blast with them, but they sure can be...entertaining...to say the least. For more on that trip, head over to the travel blog.

Well, I'll be sure to keep posting more regularly now that school is out. Until next time, have a good one!

Okay...I'm going to use the D-word...DIET!!!

That's right. I said it. I'm starting a DIET!!! And best of all, I'm owning up to it. None of this "It's not a diet, it's a way of life" crap. Sure I'm going for a lifestyle change, here, but I'm not denying that I'm on the D-word. I was inspired by Papa Bear Steve who's lost over 25 pounds in the last couple of months! So, I decided to do what he's doing.

Here are the basics:

• No Sugar
• No White Flour
• No Pop
• No Fast Food
• No Junk Food
• YES Vegetables
• YES Fruit
• YES Whole Grains
• YES Lean Meats
• YES Low-fat milk products

I think you get the point. So this is basically what I'm doing, and I've been doing it since Monday. Want to know the best part? It WORKS! As of yesterday morning (two days of dieting) I'd already lost 5 pounds! I'm guessing that's from giving up the pop, but who knows? Best of all, I feel a TON better already! No more being tired all the time. No more being sick. Just being healthy. The best part is, I've kinda got my family doing it, too. I told my parents what I'm doing and they agreed to buy the food if I cook (which I love to do anyway). I think that's going to help a ton!

Oh, and tomorrow night we're having some friends over for a pizza night. Guess what I'm having...whole wheat veggie delight pizza from Papa Murphy's. Perfect, eh? Anywho...tonight I made something quite yummy (thanks to Jessica who inspired the recipe). We had Spinach-stuffed Chicken Breasts with Garlic Roasted Asparagus and Baked Potatoes with low-fat sour cream and chives. Here's my recipe for the chicken. Try it! It's SO good! (by the way, the picture is just a generic photo of stuffed chicken...I didn't take a picture of my food...)

4 Chicken Breasts
3 Cups Fresh Spinach
3-4 Basil Leaves
2 Cups Mozzarella Cheese
2 Tbsp. Olive Oil
2 Tbsp. Italian Seasoning

Instructions:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a food processor, pulse the spinach and basil a few times until finely minced. Set aside. Pound the chicken breasts to about 1/4" thick. Top chicken with spinach mixture and cheese. Roll up tightly (you'll get a spiral of chicken and spinach). Rub the outside with olive oil and italian seasoning. Bake for about 45 minutes, or until juices run clear.

Try it out and let me know what you think! It is YUMMY! :-D

The Wisdom of "You've Got Mail"

I'll admit it: I'm a sap. I really truly enjoy watching some "chick flicks." Namely those that are actually done in good taste and have a plot, but especially You've Got Mail. I really think that Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks give so much hope for those of us who are still looking for love, but I mostly like it because of all of the wise and entertaining lines that are dispersed throughout the film.

"I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils, if only I knew your name and address." Lines like these make you truly appreciate the simple things in life. Obviously you can't just go to a floral shop and ask them to send your loved one a bouquet of sharpened pencils (or even if you can, they'd probably look at you very inquisitively and judgmentally). However the entire message centered around this simple line from an e-mail is to look around. Pay attention to the little memories that come your way when some seemingly insignificant sensory experience jogs that corner of your brain where a memory resides. Learn to be observant in the world around you, and you will eventually become very wise.

"Don't they know you're supposed to have a last name? It's like they're an entire generation of cocktail waitresses!" I think I read a little more into this line than most people ever would (or even the writer meant), but I really like the way it points out that people from the younger generations (like myself) can be so shallow! If people my age were more willing to put some thought into what they do and say, they would be a lot better off.

"The Godfather is the I Ching." Okay, so this may not make a lot of sense, but I, too, have recently discovered the wisdom of Don Coreleone and the lessons he can teach. Every single question in life can somehow be answered by the Godfather. For instance, when Kathleen in You've Got Mail has troubles with her shop, Joe tells her to "Go to the mattresses." Sometimes you need to fight for what you believe in, and although it won't always work in your favor, if you go to the mattresses, you will always win in one way or another.

The other seemingly inconsequential thing that I get from You've Got Mail is the need for us to support our local businesses so the conglomerates don't take over the world. Sure, I like to shop at Wal-Mart as much as the next guy, but I still think we all need to support the small businesses because that's what makes the backbone of our country and our way of life! If you'll notice in the frame below, the three Fox's are cha tting over coffee about the success over there store, and in the grandfather's newspaper is a picture of A dolf Hitler. It's very subtle, but it's there nonetheless. What do you get out of this?

In a completely different tone, have you ever noticed that when Annabelle is throwing rings at the ring toss, the one she throws is pink and the one that makes it on the milk bottle is green??? It's true! Check it out!!! Amy showed me this one.

Do you have any favorite "wisdom" movies? If so, I'd love to hear about them!

The Art of Random

One of the best things that I've learned in college has had nothing to do with academics. In fact, it doesn't really even have anything to do with college at all! It's the art of being utterly random, which, in fact, is truly an art. Some of the best times in life happen when you can allow yourself a little spontaneity, and this week, I've truly allowed myself to do just that!

Spring break, for most people, is a time for relaxing on white sandy beaches and dancing at clubs until all hours of the morning. Spring break for me, however, is rarely that adventuresome. I tend to stick around home, earn a little extra cash, and then travel with my family or friends at different times in the year. This year was no different, but I decided not to work as hard and actually take it as a break (so I don't burn myself completely out).

Some friends and I decided to head to a hotel in exotic Ogden, Utah for the night last night! That's right! Ogden! We got two rooms (a guy and a girl room), and partied the night away. Now when I say party, I mean we played iPod Idol and Truth (like truth or dare without the dare), watched YouTube videos, had a fashion show/runway in the middle of the hallway, and every other tidbit of wholesome mischief we could find. It was one of the greatest times I've had in a long time! Best of all, I only went with three people I know...the rest I met there. It was SO much fun, and I highly recommend to all of you that you try something truly random when you're feeling a little blue. It helps!

INTERVENTION!!!, or, in the mind of obsessive-compulsive Nathan

I'm writing this post as a quasi "self-intervention." Now don't get your knickers in a twist. I'm not addicted to anything too harmful – just clipping my fingernails and toenails. Does that sound a little off to you? Well, here's the story:

So I have an abnormally fervent obsession with fingernails and toenails. In fact, sometimes I even judge people according to the cleanliness of the nail and the quality of the manicure. I especially judge myself on the same specifications. One of my biggest pet peeves (if not my all-time biggest) is the length, cleanliness, and shape of my fingernails and toenails. They always have to be perfect. ALWAYS. If one my fingernails has too much of a point, out come the clippers until it is perfect. What's worse is, after I've fixed the nail in question, I realize that I have made it shorter than all the rest, so I think to myself, "Well, I guess they all have to be cut." I then proceed to manicure all of my nails to the same length and rounded shape. In addition to these clippings, if I notice any of my nails to be a little dirty and I can't seem to get the dirt out, I clip them. If that doesn't work, I proceed to pick at the skin that was formerly underneath the fingernail – sometimes until I'm bleeding. I know...too much information. But wait...there's more.

My toenails are an entirely different story. I've always heard that if you cut your toenails straight across, you have less of a chance of an ingrown toenail, which can become extremely painful. My semi-illogical brain, however, needs to have that same rounded shape on the toenails that I must have on the fingernails. This brings an all new dilemma in that I have to keep them unusually short to compensate for the risk of those horrible ingrown nails.

All of this combined means that I often cut my fingernails and toenails three or four times per week. That is extremely excessive, I know, but I have to appease that obsessive mind that controls these horrible urges! So right now, I am writing to force myself to keep from trimming my nails. And, so far, it's been working! I guess if I write about it, that might just let a little of the pressure out of my system for a minute. Maybe I'll be able to go four days this time without trimming! How about you? Do you have any obsessions like mine, or am I just some weird anomaly?

The World As You Know It Is About To End!

Okay, middle and upper-classes—are you ready for a permanent change in your lifestyle? In a new article from FoxNews, environmentalists are cited as saying that "Fluffy toilet paper [is] worse for the environment than Hummers!" So, each time you are wiping your precious behind, you are KILLING a "rare old-growth forest" in Canada. How can you have that on your conscience???

It's true! By using that extra-fluffy Charmin TP when cleaning off your behind, you are single-handedly destroying the environment at a rate that is usually reserved for gas-guzzling SUV's. The environmentalists say that we use it for less than three seconds, so why does it need to be so luxurious? I, however, counterpoint that that three seconds can give or take away comfort for the rest of the day. Have you ever missed a spot? It's miserable...believe me. They also say that "future generations are going to look at the way we make toilet paper as one of the greatest excesses of our age." Honestly, if my children's children judge me because of the feeling I like to have on my behind, I think they need to find something better to do.

How do the tree huggers want you to combat your war against our precious forests? It's simple. Just use toilet paper used from recycled materials. It's not nearly as plushy (in fact it may feel worse than crumpled-up newspaper shoved up your behind), and it's a little more expensive (I believe around $72 a roll), but you'll be saving the precious environment. I don't know about you, but if I use the wrong toilet paper (like the toilet paper in a public restroom), it can ruin my day! So I've got a few suggestions of my own:

1. Buy a Beday – it's more ecologically sound because you're not knocking trees down to clean yourself off (forget about the water shortage; they're tree huggers, not water huggers). Plus those Europeans always want us Americans to be more cultured. This can be our version of Europeanization.
2. Don't Wipe – hey...what's a little chafage and odor? You may have no friends and a giant wedgie, but you'll have a clear conscience knowing that you gave the world a few seconds more of oxygen from that tree that was already knocked down to provide you toilet paper.
3. Just use the dang toilet paper! – Conserve your energy by buying energy-efficient lightbulbs, utilizing public transportation, driving efficient cars, and recycling the materials that you do use, and just use the three-ply TP!

So, soccer moms, go out and buy a hummer, because you are far better off doing that than feeling that extra comfort during your morning constitutional. The environmentalists say so! Me? I'm going to stick with using my multi-ply toilet tissue; I figure that the environment isn't quite a good enough reason to walk around all day like I've used bark from the trees in my backyard to clean between my cheeks. Oh, and environmentalists...find something else to moan about next time. I hold toilet paper near and dear to my...heart...

I'm Sick

I have a confession. You know those boys that sit under their covers with a flashlight and a National Geographic magazine at night? Well, what I've done is WAY more weird. Last night, I spent almost an hour looking at photos of airliners. That's right...airliners. I think I must be sick. Ever since I was little, I've been obsessed with airplanes of every kind, and last night proved that I still am. I can point out the differences between a Boeing 737, 757, 767, and 777 (the 747s are a given), MD-80s and MD90s, as well as most of the Airbus models. I've spent hours drawing pictures of jets—trying to get the pictures right with my limited artistic abilities means it takes even longer. I like to go to the airport two hours before my flights not so that I can be on time, but so that I can walk around the airport, take pictures, and quiz myself on the different models of airplanes. And you know the little toy stores at the airport that sell model airliners? I have to talk myself out of buying the overpriced junk every time I walk by. I've seriously considered redecorating my room to an airplane motif (as an almost-21-year-old), and I think I just might. Oh, and I hope you don't have to drive by me as I'm going South on I-215, because my head is almost definitely going to be turned to the right, trying to spot the neat planes on the tarmac. Another confession—I've contemplated becoming a flight attendant after I graduate from college (and before I go to grad school) just so that I can spend a little extra time on an airplane. I'd be a pilot, but that costs WAY too much money (although if any of you reading this want to offer me a flight school scholarship and the use of a plane, I'd be more than willing to accept).
Oh, and every day I have to check the USA Today Sky Blog, the Delta Airlines Blog, and the Southwest Airlines Blog—just so that I can be up-to-date on their happenings. I've also been known to spend hours of my time reading Wikipedia to learn more about the different models of aircraft and exploring different airports around the globe. I can tell you which airport has the most on-time arrivals (SLC), I can tell you which airport is the largest airport in the world with only one runway (SAN), and in case you didn't notice, I can tell you most of the airport codes in the US (SFO, LAX, PDX, GEG, ABQ, JFK, LGA, IGA, SNA, PHX, etc). By the way, anyone that can tell me what GEG stands for without looking online gets a prize...although the prize may just be my praise, but we'll see.

I also spend way too much time online filling out surveys and looking for deals, just so that I can add Skymiles to my account. In fact, I applied for the Southwest Airlines Visa just because it would give me enough Rapid Rewards Points for a free round trip. I won't ever use the card, and I know that it's probably not the best idea to just apply for a credit card, but it was worth it. I just used those points to get a round trip to New York City! Oh, and I'm not going with anyone...just meeting some people for part of the time. Am I looking forward to my trip? Oh yes, but I'm mostly looking forward to spending four hours on a plane, and I'm really looking forward to my two hour layover at BWI. I remember every trip I've ever taken on an airplane, and I even have the boarding passes from some of my first flights! I've also been known to design fake boarding passes on the computer for my family, and we had a "flight" for family home evening where we watched a movie and I made the safety announcements.

So what do you say? Am I sick? Do I need some kind of shot or pill? If you give me one, I probably won't take it...I like this disease.

Mish Story...Part 3 of 3

Kent Allen – a family friend, a family therapist, and the first in an extensive string of angels placed in my life – re-arranged his entire schedule to meet with me the very afternoon I returned home. As we were talking, he pointed out a truly amazing scripture: “And if men come unto me I will show them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them.” 

“Nathan,” he assured me, “You have come unto him. You showed the Lord that you were willing, ready, and worthy to serve Him, and now He has shown you a weakness. He will make it strong for you.”

This hit me harder than any scripture had before in my life, and I saw the first glimmer of hope I’d seen in several long days, because I knew it to be true. In the months to follow, I met with Kent numerous times. He and my family doctor diagnosed me with a chronic form of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and Kent guided me through the burdensome ordeal of balancing the chemicals in my body and, a much more arduous task; starting my life anew. I had a plan for the next two years of my life that would no longer come to fruition. Though it would be exasperating at times, and the anxiety never really went away, I needed to move on with my life. I had to come up with an entirely different plan and take it all day-by-day.

The first step toward moving on was finding employment to keep myself from wallowing my time away. I was in no frame of mind to go job-searching, so my dad called a few friends, and I eventually found myself employed in the marketing department of a great local company. During my first week, I was assigned to travel with a woman named Kimberly Kemp to clients around Northern Utah. I didn’t know her at all, so our car ride was destined to be quiet one—or so I thought. In all reality, the trip led me to another saving angel: Kimberly herself. Kimberly had undergone great trials in the past few years, including some very similar anxiety. The two of us clicked, and we never found ourselves without something to say. She helped me realize that despite my trials, I was still loved and still had the opportunity to become a great man—mission or not. Though I only kept that job for a few short months, until I started school again, the many times Kimberly and I conversed changed my life forever.

People with similar situations seemed to come out of the woodwork. One friend, whom I’d known during my first year of college, brought me great comfort when he told me of his experiences serving a mission. He also experienced anxiety that was was horribly debilitating, and he, too, was sent home to take care of it, but not until after he had been in the mission field for quite some time. He not only knew what I was going through and proved to me that life does go on, but he showed me I could still prosper. This man’s amazing strength and attitude was an example to me as I suffered through the first months of re-building a shattered life.

Despite innumerable thoughtless comments from some people in the community such as “Why are you not on a mission?” or “It’s obviously too easy for missionaries to come home these days,” more people were understanding and supportive. Countless other guardian angels entered my life over the next few months. My wonderfully supportive family helped buoy me up; my great friends, both old and new, gave me the camaraderie I needed; and sweet children in my good friend’s pre-school class gave me a little taste of joy each time I volunteered at the school. The generosity and kindness of these incredible individuals helped me to overcome my own personal tragedy—a tragedy I thought would never end.

People always seem to call missions the best two years of their lives. Though I intended to spend the best two years teaching the people of Oslo, Norway, the growth and knowledge I gained of myself and those around me at home in Ogden, Utah, has superseded anything I could’ve learned on a proselyting mission. Every year, thousands of young men serve two years as missionaries for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I served a four-day mission and grew leaps and bounds over the following two years – my best two years. Not unlike the poem by Robert Frost:

I shall be telling this with a sigh 

Somewhere in ages and ages hence: 

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

The Mish Story...Part 2

My companion, Elder Swan, and I were somewhat less than thrilled when the unwelcome blaring of the alarm clock bellowed at 6:30 AM. Not only were we waking up in the middle of hot, lazy summer at an uncharacteristically early hour, but we also spent the previous night tossing and turning – unused to the uncomfortable beds, the strange noises, and the altogether unfamiliar place. Somehow, we dragged our bodies to the restroom, where the frigid water coming out of those evil shower heads shocked us into waking reality.

That morning, we met our teacher, had a crash-course in Norwegian, and learned a little about teaching, all before breakfast. Each day was pre-planned for us by the MTC, and every last second was accounted for. The hours were packed with classes, meetings, study time, and gym. After eating lunch with my district (the group of missionaries I ate, slept, learned, and lived with), we headed down the hall for a meeting with all of the other missionaries who had entered the MTC the day before. Since our goal was to arrive at every meeting early, we quickly found some available seats. After being asked to scoot-in numerous times to fit all of the missionaries, we were stuck right in the middle of the sweltering, muggy sea of bodies. As the lights dimmed and a training video began, all I could see in every direction were innumerable dark suits accented by the blue glow of the projectors. Each missionary seemed to breathe in sync, and the resulting waves in the grey, drab ocean of people resulted in an overwhelming feeling of nausea. Over time, the nausea led to clammy hands and a racing heart, and in a matter of minutes I was suffering from a full-fledged anxiety attack. Though I had felt a couple “pre-cursers” to this attack in the past year or so, I had thought nothing of them, and none of them could have prepared me for a panic attack as devastating as this.

“Find a counselor...a teacher...anyone. You need help.” This was the only rational thought my brain gave me during the hour I suffered through that meeting. I used my last ounce of constraint keeping myself from screaming at the top of my lungs and darting out of the room in the middle of the film. On our way out, I grabbed my companion, who knew something was wrong (how couldn’t he after I spent that much time shaking, sweating, sniffling, and crying next to him), although he seemed a bit disturbed.

“I have to talk to someone,” was the only thing I could sputter out of my mouth. Elder Swan nodded with as all the blood drained out of his startled face. My face was as pale as a sheer, white curtain hanging in a sunny window; the veins in my eyes popped out and shone bright red; and the sweat on my forehead had drenched the hair toward the front of my head. I must have looked like a zombie from an old horror movie. Elder Swan knew I needed some kind of help, so we rushed to the information desk, where the lady attending the desk quickly transformed from a smile to a look of confusion.

“Hi Elders! What can I do for you?” she chirped at my companion and I, trying to hide whatever emotion she was feeling.

“I have to talk to a counselor,” I muttered sullenly.

“Okay, head directly down this hall to the District Presidents’ office.

 The secretary will tell you which one you’ll need to see,” she answered, pointing down the hallway.

As we sat in the District Presidents’ office waiting to meet with President Bird, Elder Swan and I sat in silence. After about twenty minutes, I could tell he was anxious and wanted to get back to class, but I eyed him as he ripped a piece of paper from his planner and jotted a note down. He handed me the crumpled paper, and the note I read was of more help to me than Elder Swan would ever know. I knew I had someone else there for me.

My first meeting with President Bird, though slightly comforting, wasn’t even close to the end of my panic attacks. For the next two days, I was riddled with unquenchable anxiety that hung over my head. The dark, dismal rain cloud followed me around everywhere—the gym, our classes, and even meal times. I wasn’t able to have any fun when the other Elders were telling jokes and having a great time, to concentrate and learn in class, or to get the constant pounding of my heartbeat out of my ears. After numerous meetings with my District President, a psychologist, and a doctor, I tried to think differently, experimented with new combinations of medication, and prayed in my heart and out loud like I never had before. I wanted so badly to serve, but my circumstances were proving to be an enormous obstacle.

At breakfast Saturday morning, my mind was treading in an ocean of thoughts. I was trying desperately to keep myself afloat amid great feelings of inadequacy and worries of what was to come. It was then that I had the most crippling panic attacks I would ever experience. My body shook the table so violently that the other missionaries’ spoons were trembling in their cereal bowls. I felt looks of scorn from every direction, even though everyone was much more worried than judgmental toward me. More thoughts raced though my head; this time, however, the thoughts were much more focused and prominent. Elder Swan and I rushed down the hall toward President Bird’s office. He was just coming in for the day and caught us on our way, and he held his arms out for me to embrace him.

“Elder Alexander, these are getting worse and worse. I think it’s time we send you home to get some help,” he compassionately said to me, patting me on the back. As my parents traveled back to Provo to pick me up, Elder Swan and I trekked back to our residence hall, and I began to re-pack my things that I had so carefully organized just four days before. When my companion snuck out for a restroom break, I completely broke down. I plopped onto the bottom bunk and sobbed into my arms. Between the intermittent plagues of quick gasps for breath, I wailed into the pillow, thinking of all the experiences I was about to miss because of my flawed human body and its imbalanced chemicals. I thought of all of the people who wanted me to succeed at home – people who had supported me all of my life. I thought about my younger brother and whether this would influence his decision to serve a mission in a few years. Most of all, I felt like a failure. I felt like I was letting myself, my savior, and my friends and family down because of a stupid mental disorder. In that small dorm room, I nearly suffocated as my entire world crashed down around me.