More stuff breaking

You know, I knew it was going to happen sometime soon, and I was hoping it would have been before I went home, or way later. No, it happens right when I get back from being at home, which was good.

My glasses decided to fall apart. They took quite a bit of damage at the same time my shoulder dislocated. Remember how I mentioned I tend to punch whatevers nearest me in frustration when my shoulder dislocates. Well, my glasses fell off and got in the way. I bent them back, but could tell they were going to break at the temple sooner or later. It's a good thing I don't need them, it just makes everything a little bit clearer. But my next chance to get glasses will probably be in March during spring break. For those at BYU unfamiliar with that term, we get a week off.

Frustrating

So in light of everything that has happened this week, I still managed to get more done this week than any other week this semester(outside of practicing). I manage to joke around and maintain a positive attitude around others about my shoulder and everything going on. I haven't fallen behind on a single assignment yet, including all the reading assignments you don't get graded on in every class. I'm completely caught up. I'm doing all that I can to remain productive and accomplish everything I set out to do, yet I still feel it's not enough.

I teach my lesson in Institute, and what a very mediocre lesson it was. I hang around afterwards for an hour to try to get hometeaching done only to find out that it won't work and I've wasted an hour when I could be reading two chapters and write my three page summary for class tommorrow. I've been going since 8 A.M. this morning, trying to do all I can, and it is not enough. Everyone around me is amazed that I'm doing as well as I am, completing everything, biking everywhere in a sling, remaining upbeat, twice I've been called a trooper.

You'd think I feel good at being productive and accomplishing all that I can, yet privately I just feel that my outcomes weren't the best. Stupid overacheiving fool. Accept that you've done the best you could and be happy about.

Not the best pep talk I've given myself considering it didn't work.

I'm once again am seriously considering to have surgery again. The only problem is that the last chance I have to do it will be this summer. That will mean it will be the third summer in a row without some sort of steady job. I wish my shoulder would be normal, that I could do all the normal things I want to without fear of bad things happening. Will surgery help? 95% success rate the first time, and I'm the 5% failure. Will another shot be the right choice? I going home this weekend to talk it over and to get a much needed haircut from my mom. Yes, I'm cheap.

Good People

So my last posts haven't been all that great, so, like Duchess, I'll make a list I'm thankful for, but it'll be all those people who have helped my out.

First off, the guy that massaged my shoulder which allowed a little temporary relief when I first fell into a crumpled heap.

Second, the cute girl who just sat beside me and talked with me for an hour while I sat there waiting for...

Person number three. The son of our branch president who is a doctor of some sort who attempted to relocate my shoulder without having to go to the hospital.

Fourth, the guy who massaged my shoulder took me to one hospital, where the wait was 2-4 hours, then drove to another where they got me at least lying down right away. He stayed for a while, went to work out, then came back. He left once they put me under.

Five, a girl from my home ward who lives in the same area. My brother was working, and I didn't know any other numbers but hers off the top of my head. So I called her at 2 in the morning to see if she could pick me up. She and her husband came, picked me up, fed me, allowed me to spend the night with them(they didn't want to leave me alone all drugged up), and gave me a ride into campus the next day.

Six, the grad tuba student who gave me a ride home that night as I was pretty much gone, hadn't been home in a day and a half, and on my last limbs. It would have been a forty minute walk.

Seven, my brother for giving me a ride to the church to pick up my bike this morning and drop me off on campus. People must wonder as they see me passing on a bike. I've got my jacket zipped up and my arm underneith on a sling, so it looks like I'm just a one-armed biker. Hmmmm....

Anyway, these are all people who went out of their way to do things for me. Thank you all.

Shoulder Woes #2

So you thought I was finished with this subject? Nope, there's more. As if it wasn't long enough already. But I'll have to keep this really short. I did it again. While trying to catch one of the fiery darts of the adversary at FHE, I reached up and dislocated my shoulder. This was the worst time ever. Out for 3 1/2 hours, two attempts made by doctors to relocate it before I got some painkillers and one more attempt. I lost all my reserves to hold the pain in at that point even with painkillers and they finally had to put me out.

Well, I can't practice any instruments for probably a week or two, and I'll doubt I'll write much with my arm essentially bolted to my side. I'm still drugged up, with little sleep, tons to read, no transportation, a huge lesson to prepare, practicing that needs to be done and can't. You know, honestly I'm in a pretty nuetral mood. None of it is bothering me. Must be the aftereffects of the drugs.

Who knew dodgeball can be so dangerous? Oh, mom, if you happen to read this, I may come home this weekend and, please, no lectures on my shoulder.

Shoulder Woes

Since I seem to be making plenty of comments related to my shoulder, I'm just going to get it all out at once and be down with it.

So it all starts way back in middle school. I loved to stretch, especially my arms. Comfortable for me was having my arms back behind my head and just resting them there. Well, eventually, gravity did its work and my arms could go lower and lower. I eventually got to the point where I could play jump rope with my arms. I could hold my arms together straight behind my back. You'd look at me from the front and you couldn't see any part of my arms. I have a picture of it, looks pretty sick.

So forward to freshman year of college. Marching band, to be uniform everyone had to bring their left hand up and over to hold the mouthpiece. Preiviously I held the side of the Sousaphone. At the end of the week, it stretched to the point that when playing football at the band picnic, I dislocated it tackling a guy twice my size. I did what any other naive stupid freshman would do, kept playing. It went right back into socket, so I thought nothing of it.

This started the trend for the next year. I would do something, anything, and my shoulder would pop out about once every two weeks. Wrestling, volleyball, basketball, rolling over in bed, talking on the phone. Anything would dislocate it. Once again, I thought nothing of it, as it always went back into place. I never got it looked at or went to the hospital. When I filled out my mission papers, I did state that I had a bad shoulder, which probably proved to be a mistake.

I leave on my mission. The MTC, I dislocated my shoulder 2 times, both playing basketball. That was when I needed help from a companion to get my shirt on. The next was Thankgiving weekend, playing football, I was blocking my companion and dislocated it. Again thought nothing of it. The next was the absolute worst thing that could have happened. It was playing basketball the next week. It dislocated and I fell to the ground. I tried to get up and my arm didn't respond at all, any movement sent immense ammounts of pain into my shoulder. So I assessed the situation, as it's always gone back in, I remained confused for quite some time figuring out what needs to be done. Just so you get the picture, my arm didn't dislocate down at my side, it was up over my head with no support. So first thing they do is call the mission president's wife, who oversees everything medical wise. They explain the situation, that I can't even move from where I'm at, and she says to wait there while shes calls a doctor to see what needs to be done. The doctor says to get him to a hospital now. She calls us and says she's going to get a second opinion before doing anything, so she calls another doctor who says the same thing. Oh and during these calls she tells us to get me to at least stand up. So we attempt to get me standing probably after the first hour of me lying on the floor. At this point, I had tried twice to relocate my shoulder myself, and failed miserably twice, with the pain continueing to grow with each attempt with no relief in sight. So when she finally calls back, instead of telling us to call an ambulence, she tells us to call a member to drive me to the hospital. It took us quite a while to track down somebody in the middle of a Thursday afternoon to drive us to the hospital. During this time I try a third time to relocate my shoulder myself. At this point, my pride, pain tolerance, and wits are gone. I'm trembling and tears of pain are rolling down my cheeks. For those who know my family, there has to be EXTREME ammounts of pain for us to get to that point. So our driver finally shows up. I can't fit in the front seat because my arm is up over my head being supported by my other arm and my companion supporting my other side. We have to open the back of the van and have me sit on the floor of the van, with my arm propped up on the seat. Now, for those who haven't been to Vegas, the streets are curved and have washes for water to run down. So basically, anytime we went over an intersection, my arm was being bounced up and down mercilessly. We finally get to the hospital, and I'm such a wreck that they decide to put me out to relocate my shoulder. So the entire amount of time I had my shoulder out of socket while I was awake was three and a half hours.

Now I'm in a sling and in a bike area, so we walked Naked City for a week. We got really sick of walking the Strip and all the porn bins that week. Although it was fun removing certain cards and replace them with Lamb of God cards and Book of Mormon cards. Every now and again, we'd knock over a couple of porn bins. We got a car, then were DT'd out of the area. Up to Elko I go. I keep the sling on most of the time, which I found out is a mistake when sleeping. They say to where the sling while sleeping. That is a big mistake. Their reasoning is that it will hold your shoulder steady and make sure you don't stretch it out when you sleep, but in reality, when you sleep and shift around, it tends to push your shoulder out even further and you wake up in pain in the morning. So I took to wearing it day only. I'm doing fine up in Elko, transfer day comes, and I'm to remain with my companion. He would have been my first kill. So I'm getting dressed for the day and I pop out my shoulder putting my shirt on. My companion here's me utter a string of words that I won't utter here as I'm lying on the ground punching the metal bar of the bed with my good arm. Just so you know, that companion used words like that every day, and despite my hardest not to fall into that habit, being around it 24/7 caused my to slip a lot. He was my first introduction to the opposite side of missionary life.

It's while I'm in this position that I had to make some serious decisions. Since I put on my mission papers that I dislocated my shoulder, even though I'd never been hospitalized for it, mission insurance wouldn't cover expenses. My dad's insurance had just been switched from covering kids till they turn 25 to covering them only if they're in school, which I wasn't. So no insurance was covering the doctor bills for the X-rays and the doctor's bills. So with my shoulder out of socket, and me on the phone with my mom, I make the decision to go home and have surgery. It wouldn't have been fair for my parents to pay twice as much for my mission in bills from doctors the way things were going. Anyway, my shoulder was out of socket for only an hour. It wasn't bad at all, comparitively speaking, and I stayed awake through the doctor relocating it, although he did give me something to ease the pain beforehand.

So I'm home from my mission, they released me, and the first order of business is to get back in school as soon as possible so I could have the surgery while insured. The soonest was a month at a local University. I didn't dare return to UK and visit the band and tuba studio. It was hard enough leaving the first time, I wouldn't have taken it a second time. I did teach brass lessons at the middle school, although I avoided playing anything serious. I finally had my surgery two months after being home, on May 1rst, the girl next door's birthday. Four days later was prom, and one of the girl next door's friend needed a date, so I went in a sling, without any mobility at all, and then to afterhours, where I rollerscated, played pool, volleyball, lasertag, you name it, I did it. On two hours of sleep, teaching 8 11-12 year olds at church was terrible. Anyway, went through two months of physical therapy then back out into the field. The next six months went great. Good companions, good success, no shoulder problems. There was the incident where I tried to bench press. My shoulder couldn't support the weight at all. I could lift it up, but it was all arm, I couldn't do anything with my shoulder, it was pretty funny. So I get transferred and that's when things turn to hell in every way possible. Companions, my shoulder, areas, everything. I don't remember how I first dislocated it after surgery, it went back into place, I thought that I'll just be more careful. A week later, I'm telling a story to some other missionaries, and my shoulder dislocates as I'm using my arms to express my story. Well they're listening intently, when all the sudden they hear a long string of words with me rolling on the ground in pain. Great. It's a Saturday, and I'm in Mesquite. No doctor was working in Mesquite, we did have one out of town and another iffy guy. So we called iffy guy to see if he's able to relocate it. He says he'll try. So just before the guy comes over he's looking through a book on relocating shoulders. Well, let's just say he tried and failed. The nearest hospital open is in Saint George, which also happens to be out of mission boundaries. So a couple of hours later, finally get that relocated. More hospital bill not covered by insurance. There was one really good thing that came out of it. In Mesquite they had a therapy center where I was able to go free, and meet a guy that will make a great member of the church someday. I went to therapy there for four months, mostly to talk with this guy. Unfortunately, he hated my companion a lot, so we couldn't teach him. One day he will.

Next area, dislocate it again. If you must know what I was doing, I was swimming with a part member family. A kid jumped on my back and I was trying to get him off. Fortunately, it didn't stay out of socket. I've never dislocated it in water and have it stay out. Needless to say, I never want to.

Next area, I arrive. They finally gave me a bike area, I'm not in a sling, and all is well. First P-Day, I play basketball and dislocate my shoulder again, and another trip to the hospital. That was relitively quick. I think only half an hour. Stuck in a sling yet again and a bike area, and they won't give us a car. Well, our area was larger than some of the car areas, so that presented some problems, not many though. Both of us died a long time ago at this point. We spent the last three months of our mission together and died in peace from anyone else. Not peace of mind, mind you, at least not me.

I managed to finish my mission without further mishap. I stayed an extra transfer to make up for part of the four months I was home. So I stayed out for three Halloweens, and one birthday. Everyone who came home made excuses to go home a transfer earlier to get into school, even though some weren't. So I was out three months longer than anyone who came out with me. Honestly they could have sent me home a year earlier and everyone would have been better off. But that's a different topic.

So I now avoided sports like the plague. I could play certain ones. Racquetball, a little volleyball, two-hand touch football(iffy). I play till a I feel the slightest bit of pain, then quit, regardless. So I manage to go almost two years without dislocating my shoulder. I'm working a great job landscaping. I'm doing the hedging. Basically swing a 20 pounds machine in my hand 10 hours a day. I love it. It's good pay, I'm outside, I've got a great guy I'm working with. We set it up to be easy on my shoulder, I cut low, he cuts high and it's working well. One day, all the bushes are high, so I can't avoid it. As the day continues, I'm loading all the waste onto the trailer and I grab a bar over my head, and my shoulder goes out again. At least at this point, I can control my language that my companion taught to me long ago. I still punched quite a few things. Not too hard. So my partner finishes the job, it was a small one, with only fifteen minutes left, while I sit there debating what to do. I manage to actually relocate it myself, now that I'm used to the pain, and can relax while feeling large amounts of pain so I can actually relocate it. Well, I had to quit the job, and couldn't find a job for the rest of summer. There went my dreams for buying an F-tuba. Which now isn't a bad thing, but I had only enough money to last the rest of summer, and none for school.

That's my last dislocation of my bad shoulder. While playing racquetball last month, my shoulder did some popping one time, to which I slammed my racquet into the ground, bending it even more. And then the most recent, which I mentioned was playing volleyball Friday. I went up to block a spike, and the ball at its highest, and my arm extended above my head as far as possible pushing forward, my shoulder popped again in pain. I decided the wood floor was at fault, and beat it a couple of times. I've got a nice sized swollen knuckle from it too.

I guess I should explain why I have a tendency to punch hard solid objects when I dislocate my shoulder. I like Duchess, like my independance. I like being able to do things for myself and others. I hate to feel inadaquate. I hate that I'm not in control of that aspect of my body. Any time I dislocate my shoulder, it's a gunshot to my pride, and a painful reminder that there are many things I can't do for the rest of my life.

Just so you know, my mom hates how I take it so non-challantly. I usually don't show me true interior, and if you were to talk to me, I'd joke around about this as well, and just consider it a good story to tell. I don't tell this to whine, or say how bad I have it in life, as it probably seems in this blog. I can't imagine how people deal with worse afflictions than a bad shoulder, or a busted knee, or other similar things. To be perfectly honest with you though, you can take all of my limbs and my sight, before I'd let you take my ears. But that just comes with the major.

Well, this blog has just gotten down-right dark and depressing, and I only mentioned a couple minor aspects of my mission which I didn't intend to do, so I'll stop now, as it is two in the morning, and school is tommorrow, bright and early.

So the moral of the story, kids, is to never stretch your shoulders in middle school.

Sunday School Announcements

The Sunday School Announcements have always been a little on the bizarre side, and today didn't disappoint me. We have them right after the sacrament, since we stay in the chapel for Sunday School. First off, the Sunday School President hadn't even made it to church yet, so there's about a minute before someone in the branch presidency gets up to welcome everyone and time for announcements. First one up, our new coordinator of the branch list. She's decides it's time for changes and that she's going to take everyone's pictures and put it together for the ward directory. Just so you know, I've never lived in a ward or branch that's done that before. Next she announced break the fast meal after church and that we're dedicating it to our previous branch president and his wife as they were released two weeks ago. Okay... sure... Then an announcement for the upcoming temple trip. Then a girl gets up for the most random announcement of the afternoon. The datebox. Apparently she was talking with one of the guys who just got back from BYU. In their ward they had what was called a datebox where people would put in names of people who they think should go on dates and somebody would set them up on a blind date if both parties consented. Well, this girl decided to do exactly that on her own. Needless to say, there was some reactions and the poor guy who wasn't involved with carrying it out had to defend himself once it came to Elder's Quorum. Next announcement was FHE, where we will be playing dodge ball, and since it's supposed to have a spiritual message, we're going to make the dodge balls the fiery darts of the adversary. Then came up one of the most conceded girls I've ever met who announces all the activities going on in her life and invites everyone to them. This one in particular was a track meet that she's running in. Next is the guy who announces the Friday night activity and is the weirdest guy(in a good way) you've ever met who is just bizarre and turns it all into look at me, I'm funny. Which they usually are. So there you have it, a run down of a typical Sunday School Announcements.

There's also some philosophical things that I was thinking at church, but I'm not in the mood right now to blog about it, and I want to think on it more. There's also some stuff in there I could blog more about if I want to, but I'll leave it to this.

Institute and Inadequecy

So last week when I asked for the talk from the teacher so I could study and ponder on it some more, then wrote up my ponderings. I forgot that that can lead to other consequenses. Such as the teacher asking me the next week to be the class president. You know, it's not that that bothers me so much, it's what he said next. "I won't be here next week..." You know exactly what that's leading to. Yep, I've got the lesson next week. You know, since I'm going into teaching, it's not that big of a deal to teach, I've done that plenty of times. Granted I've never taught an hour and a half lesson for a class in church before. What bothers me is having to teach his class. This guy is an exceptionally good teacher. Very thoughtful, insightful, spiritual, and really conveys what we're studying and the reason very clearly. I'd just feel stupid teaching his class. It's like yesterday when I had to perform the Penderecki for masterclass. I got to follow the performance of two graduate performance majors. One's auditioning for a major orchestral tuba position that just opened up. You just don't do that. I can't follow those acts. It's these kinds of situations that make you grow and stretch, if just so you don't look so bad.

Nothing in particular

I couldn't stand to see that post sitting at the top of the page. It was very unlike me and very contradictory to my nature. I am a firm believer in the phrase, "Those who laugh at themselves never cease to be amused." So I laugh about me being a big time band geek and make fun of myself and allow others to make fun of me too. For some reason it just wasn't happening yesterday.

On other news, I decided to take a graduate level theory class at 8 A.M. in the morning for the fun of it. Eighteenth Century Counterpoint. The teacher is one I never had before and this is my last oppurtunity to have him as a teacher. Very intelligent and KNOWS his stuff. Most other students agree he's a great teacher too.

I'd like to blog more on my philosophies of music, but I'm running on three hours of sleep and really need an afternoon nap before my first lesson.

Why do I have to be so freakin' music majorish?

First off, a comment about Benvolio's last post. I'm probably one of those people who let's too much be known. I guess I really don't care who knows what about me. It's not like they'd be able to take advantage of me in some way or hurt me in any way possible. Even my credit is apparently already ruined because last time I tried to get a credit it wouldn't let me have one because I already have one and I'm way in debt. I've never even had a credit card. I even had a collector call me up once, to which I replied I've never owned one. Yes, I'll correct that someday, but I really don't feel the need to right now. Anyway, after that sidenote, back to subject at hand. Yes, I post stuff that probably shouldn't be posted here, but I generally have an optimistic attitude that people will be generally nice and not do stupid things to hurt others. Yes, I still think that way, although a lot less after my mission. Now onto a post that probably shouldn't be written or read. Read at your own risk.

By the way, I'm really pissed off as I sit here and kill the keyboard, I already pounded out some frustration on the piano and my tuba(no, I wasn't pounding on my tuba, true blat comes to mind though), although I didn't seem to have the air support without a proper warmup. There I freakin' go again. Wow, I can't even keep my thoughts in line I'm so ticked. Okay, from the beginning. I go to FHE, and afterwards I'm planning on practicing. No big deal. So a girl that I've mentioned in previous posts that I thought about asking out and never did caught me on the way out the door. She says, "Hi, how's it going?" Me... "Alright. I'm going to practice because....(me being stupidially music majorish)." When we finish our very brief conversation, she ends with, "I'll see you later, I don't want to keep you from your practicing." with a very mocking tone. Why this is pissing me off so much, I don't know. Just how many people at church view me as a weird obsessed music major who probably likes music better than any of us here? Am I pissed off because she feels that way... no. I'm mad at myself... really mad. I try, and try, and try not to be so obsessed with music, would I rather go out to a movie with people from church, or play music? Unfortunately probably play music. How people view me probably is true. Perhaps that's why it pissed me off so much. It's true. At FHE, I sit at the piano the entire time, I won't move from it. I play with the keys and run songs through my head. I become excited figuring out chord structures to songs that I had screwed up afterwards while everyone else is talking and socializing. I get up and walk out without a word to anyone till that girl. It shouldn't bother me yet it does. Or is it good that it finally does bother me? Oh... and then when I get pissed off, what do I do... play music. All I ever do is play, live, talk about, breathe music. When is it going to end? Whoever marries me will get sick of music, that's for sure. I will never get burnt out, I may switch between what I enjoy about music and my philsophies of music, but will I ever stop this insanity about music? AAARRRGGGHHH!!! Sorry, I'm a little too... make up any word(s) you wish to put here. I probably shouldn't post this like Benvolio probably thinks I shouldn't, but oh well. I haven't kept a journal for over 3 years now, so this is my journal.

I'll be better in the morning.

Mr. Adaptability

First off a little update. My sister e-mailed me asking how my audition that was so terrible went. Well, I'm happy to report that I did not make a band at all. You ask, why in the world are you happy? That means I have an extra 6 hours a week and that class on MWF are through at 2 P.M. instead of 5 P.M. I only have 15 hours this semester and should be a cake walk. I'm probably happier that I didn't make a band than I would have been if I made one.

Now onto the blogging. This name was given to me last semester in my Education class. The class was teaching exceptional learners in the classroom environment. We were discussing ESL(English Second Language) students and the whole culture aspect. So they divided us into groups to do a little activity. The gave us a deck of cards and very vague rules of a card game. After discussion among the individual groups of how the game will be played, we played our games. Once through, the winner and loser would go to a different table. Now once playing, no talking or communicating in any way were allowed, which meant you had to figure out the rules on your own at a different table. After we finished playing and discussed about students expressed their frustration and confusion at how difficult it was to figure out what was going on. We had two exceptions to this. One guy decided to take advantage of not knowing the rules and allowed himself to stay ignorant and cheat by playing ignorant, and myself, who observed exactly how the new rules came into play, and never had a problem adapting to the new situations. If fact I quite enjoyed it. I made this known to the class and was from then on dubbed Mr. Adaptability.

I love new situations, even bad new situations, or at least most of them. My first year of college, I got my bike locked up by the police for parking it illegally. I was quite surprised to find that a parking ticket for locking my bike up to a bench instead of a bike rack was $15 more than a car parking ticket. So I had a $25 dollar ticket, classes to go to, a bike to break loose, and no idea what I'm doing. Most people would find this very frustrating. To be quite honest with you, I enjoyed it quite a bit, it was new and a departure from the norm.

Now my recent example. In woodwind methods I'm learning flute right now. Next half semester will be bassoon. Flute is probably the most unique embouchure of them all. For brass players especially. So today we're working on making the proper sound using just the head joint. It takes me about 30 seconds to produce a sound. Now granted that's just the sound, not the correct embouchure. So the teacher goes around and checks everything, see what we're doing right or wrong. I'm one of the first she works with, and it takes her a minute to explain it before I do it right. The rest of the brass took quite a while. Two took the rest of the class and still couldn't produce the proper sound. I've never played a flute before, yet I was able to pick it up very quickly. For having the muscle memory of a tuba player for more than ten years I could still adapt them to do what needed to be done.

Yeah for being Mr. Adaptability.

Saturday Mornings

I absolutely love Saturday mornings. Although last semester I couldn't enjoy them because of football games and everything else going on. Today I got up leisurely. Played a few video games. Checked blogs. Then the highlight of the morning. I fix a nice hot breakfast. It usually doesn't matter what, just anything but cereal. Cereal is a staple in our household and we eat a lot of it. During the weekday, there's just no time to fix a nice decent breakfast. So I look forward to cooking a nice large breakfast with everything possible on Saturdays when I have the chance to. Although I think I overdid it today. My brother had to work three shifts at work the past two days, one at 6:30 A.M., 7:30 P.M., then 4:30 A.M., so he was more interested in sleeping than eating at that point, but I still fixed enough for him, which was a mistake. So I just downed 9 eggs with cheese on top, 1/2 lb of bacon, 6 peices of toast, and 3 glasses of milk. It was so good. It's definitely one of the highlights of my week when I can do that. It gets me started for the rest of the day as well. Since cooking is something that I can consider constructive in this case, it starts me off to actually getting stuff done on Saturday with a positive attitude instead of just lazing about all day doing nothing and being nonconstructive, so here's to Saturday morning.

Institute and doctrinal thoughts

So today was the first day of our weekly institute class at the church. I managed to forget percil and paper to write down my thoughts and impressions, so I decided to write study and write down a little bit on my blog because I felt it was something that I'd like to ponder about a little more. Also while paper and pencil is great, I have stacks of notes that are unorganized and laying around in piles that I rarely go through, so I figured it would be more benificial to write it up as a blog.

We went over a talk given by Elder Eyring at a CES Training Broadcast back in August called "Raising Expectations". So let's see where I want to go with this... Feel free to make comments based on whatever I put down.

In class we first discussed true conversion and the significance of it. A deep firm conversion implies never slacking from the path that has been set. An example sited was that of Anti-Nephi-Lehies. Alma 23:6-7. The end of verse 6... "were converted unto the Lord, NEVER DID FALL AWAY." They were always steadfast. I wonder if they had their minor slumps that I tend to have. It tends to imply that at no time was there any doubt or any time they succummed to temptation. I tend to have my lapses. So what sets about true conversion?

Another interesting point brought up in class in verse 7: "they did lay down the weapons of their rebellion" Instead of war, rebellion is used. So what can I consider my weapons of rebellion that I use to fight against God? Because of time issues right now, I'll save that for later.

In the talk, Elder Eyring points out that as the world darkens, partial conversions and a few spiritual experiences may seem more remarkable, compared to the world, but scripture tells us that we are to expect more. Keep in mind this talk is for the teachers, but can be for students to. I guess for the time being I'll consider myself the teacher and student. More is expected. He quotes Joel 2:27-32. Point of interest, "And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your old men shall dream dreams, and your young men shall see visions: And also upon the servants and upon the handmaids in those days will I pour out my spirit." This is what is expected and we must have. How is it that we get to this point? What expectations do we use to raise the bar?

Elder Eyring points out four steps to take. While these are steps which we are all familiar with, to what depth do we do these?

1. "The first choice they must make is to pray with faith that the gift of the Spirit will come beyond their human capacities." I can't say that I've prayed for the gift of the Spirit beyond my human capacities. For the Spirit yes, but to that extent. He relates his father's expectation for him to receive revelation beyond his human capabilities. Do we expect this from ourselves, as well as those who we teach in whatever setting? What is an example of something I can receive revelation for that I can't get with my human capabilities? Is there anything I require now that I can pray for beyond my capabilities that the Lord can provide me? How do I relate this to me? What is expected of me from others that I can't do by myself without the Lord's help? Nothing, nobody expects me to go beyond my human capabilities that's directly involved with me? Hmmm... is this the responsibilities of parents and teachers? I need to find out what my expectations are.

2. "There is a second choice we can help them make which will move them along the path to the companionship of the Spirit. It is to choose to trust the scriptures which speak of spiritual gifts with the simple faith of a child." We all study scriptures, but how much do we trust in the scriptures. Going back to the scripture in Joel, "Your young men shall see visions" Do I trust in the scriptures enough that tonight I shall see visions? Can I have the faith of a child to beleive that? Could that be an expectation I could set for myself, as this I would consider beyond my human capabilities? I guess I see now how this ties in very well to #1.

3. "The third choice we can help them make is to be obedient to the impressions of the Spirit when they come." This statement to me seems fairly standard, yet for the life of me, can I even remember the last time that I had an impression from the Spirit of something I should do. I take that back now as I've pondered it a little. The next setence reads, "When the Spirit confirms eternal truth, there is always something to be done about it." I felt the Spirit as we discussed these things in class. Eternal truth has been confirmed and now action needs to be taken on it. So what are these actions that need to be taken? Pray for gift of Spirit beyond my capabilities. Study the scriptures, wait, trust in the scriptures and the spiritual gifts mentioned in them and act upon them. Makes sense.

4. "The fourth and perhaps most important choice anyone can make to invite the Spirit is to testify of the Savior and His Restoration of His true Church through His prophet Joseph Smith." This topic seems to be the one I understand the least. I've always had trouble bearing my testimony. It's there but I never seem to feel right when I bear my testimony. Let's see if thinking on it a little helps... "The Spirit testifies of all truth. And yet the surest way I know to have the Spirit come to verify what you say is to testify of the Savior." I'm not sure if I'm understanding this correctly. If I talk about a particular subject, say scripture study, you can have the Spirit verify that it is true by testifying of the Savior? I'm not sure I'm making correct sense of that. Any thoughts? Perhaps reading on will help... "So when the person you love and serve feels the Spirit as you testify of the Savior, it strengthens their faith." Makes sense, but how does that relate to that particular subject? I must be reading it wrong.

Unfortunately, the library closes soon, and my brain has finished for the day, so I'll post what Elder Eyring says for the fourth choice exactly if you feel like pondering it out.

"The fourth and perhaps most important choice anyone can make to invite the Spirit is to testify of the Savior and His Restoration of His true Church through His prophet Joseph Smith. When we set that example we set an expectation that others will be blessed by.
This is how it works. One of the offices of the Holy Ghost is to testify of the Savior and His work. There are many true things you can choose to say to your child or to your student. the Spirit testifies of all truth. And yet the surest way I know to have the Spirit come to verify what you say is to testify of the Savior. So, when the person you love and serve feels the Spirit as you testify of the Savior, it strengthens their faith. They then are more likely to choose to testify of their growing faith in Him and His works. And when they do, the Spirit will confirm what they say to those who hear them. And it will reinforce their own faith."
He expounds a little more on it through examples, but that's too long for me to post. Now that I look back on what I've studied, there is a lot of insane implications involved with this, and some of it almost scares me. If I truly become converted and live my life exactly as I've pondered through in this post. In ways that can be scary and exciting. Well I guess at this point I am to act on the knowledge received. Wow, that's a lot of faith to have. We'll see what happens. Please feel free to agree, disagree, expound, comment on anything I've thought.

My attempts at being social

So I decided I'd try to actually be a little bit more social and talk to people. So Monday, after royally screwing up my audition, the tuba players decided to go eat at Gatty's, so I joined them, then went to FHE and managed to hang around about 40 minutes talking to people. One girl actually came up to me and talked to me. While I probably wouldn't ever date her, it was nice talking to her, and I didn't even have to initiate that one. The tuba players invited me to their last get together before school starts. Of course they'd be drinking, so I decided I'd show up early and stay for a little while. It wasn't so bad, granted I was still the first person to leave. The conversation at times was a little crass, and some of it was pretty funny. Watching a couple of them dance to German polkas, among other things. Really, at that time I probably wouldn't have done anything else more constructive. I'm still not quite sure how I felt about being there. So who knows.

The next night I called up my roommate from my Freshman year and we got some dinner during his break from work. We caught up on what was going on, girlfriend woes, or lack thereof, remembered good ol' times. It was fun and I had a good time. Since both of us have lighter schedules, I'm definately going to have to keep in touch more than the twice a year we've been doing. I wish more people were like this guy. Can have a good time and enjoy life in a sarcastic sort of way without the drinking or crude jokes. So not bad for me. I would write more, but class beckons.

Doh!!!

So when we moved into our new apartment, we were checking everything out. The hot water came out as a trickle. My dads explaination was something along this line... "The buildup of (tons of chemicals and materials and chemistry terms that I don't know) has caused the hot water to not run as it should. Well six months later when talking to management and getting a couple of things in our apartment fixed, they located the source of the problem. The valve wasn't turned all the way on, only halfway.

To blog

It's 5:30 in the morning, my sleep schedule is so off that right now is the end of my afternoon nap. Bedtimes about 9 A.M. School starts in a couple of days. That'll be fun. I've got auditions today at 1 P.M. I've practiced the music a whole 30 minutes. Since I've been to Utah and Florida, I had no chance to practice and I'm basically not going to make a band this semester, although really at this point, I don't care to be in a band, in fact, I'm hoping for an extra 6 hours a week. A lot of my music classes have become irrelevant, while I need to understand more about how to teach elementary, which UK offers none.

Yet really, none of this seems to bother me as much as that stupid Florida trip and a couple of related things. Perhaps it's just my frustration of wanting to talk to others. I can count on one hand, outside of family, the people I've talked to longer than one hour for the past six months. And each of those people only once, never more than that. Okay, let me think what direction I want to go with this...

Alright, I was talking to my brother from Winchester the other day. He was returning my truck since he totalled his vehicle over Christmas and I didn't need it as I was in Florida. We ended up talking for a couple of hours. For this brother, it was quite a refreshing change. For some reason, he tends to be one in particular that all of us small talk with. We never delve into the serious or philosophical with him. We usually talk of running, racquetball, biking, progression on their new house, video games, he'll do a little bit of teasing about the girl next door, and we cover any other superficial topic. This past visit was a little more serious than usual. He didn't mention the girl next door, which rather surprised me, but he talked more about the need of having companionship from the opposite sex, which for me I squelched mercilessly so I could work specifically on my major. His remark was rather funny when I said that, "You know, it's not a bad thing to feel that way." Sad, but true. I always joke that I get to make out three hours a day or more. Anytime I feel like it. He didn't quite understand how I could not care about having a relationship or just not communicating with other people in general.

I think a lot of it goes back to what I wrote about the Florida trip. I just don't like people. I really just don't like them. Maybe I'm just jealous because they actually talk to each other, while I can stay completely silent for days. I find most people to be immature, say inane things, and I'm not just talking about school. I'm also talking about the single's branch that I go to. Today in church, I didn't have a real conversation with anyone outside of regular business. You know what's even worse is that I don't promote talking to others at all. You want to know what I did during down time at church today? I studied the audition music. Yes, that's right, I studied the audition music. I got all the fingerings under my belt so that when I went to practice, I could spend as little time in there as possible. I broke my vow of never practicing on Sunday, but that's not the point of this blog, so back to the subject at hand. I must look like one of the most unapproachable people ever, and I don't approach people. I've sat in the same seat in church by myself for the past year and a half during sacrament, content with myself.

Should I really be this content with being a loner? I find that it's wrong. One shouldn't be alone 24/7 like I am. I'm in a weird position about that. I've got the self worth and self confidence that comes from being among friends, and yet I don't feel the need to have any. I would venture to say that most people need at least a few friends to feel some amount of self worth and self confidence.

I guess this thought has been spurred by the individuals on the Florida trip who enjoyed themselves with their friends while I really did not have a good time on the trip at all. In case you read that post, the first line was being very sarcastic. I had nobody to enjoy it with, and I think it's starting to grate on me, which isn't a bad thing. I don't think. For the first time since my mission, well, before my mission actually that I have the desire to just talk with a member of the opposite sex. Well heck, just anybody in general. Of course I haven't made that move to talk to anybody. I'm not sure if I even remember how to talk to people anymore. I'm pretty sure I'm a personable enough guy, in fact I know I can be. I usually am, and have been told so.

Actually as a shoutout to TO and his last post, I probably laugh way too much. My blog makes up a lot of rants and raves about things in general, yet in real life, I'm never that way. I was once working on a project for general music, crunch time, 5 minutes before class to do a presentation. Another girl in the class had to give a presentation the same day. All I could do was laugh about the entire supposedly stressful situation and joke around till the girl rears her head towards me and yells, "It's not funny!!!" I was quite taken aback by it. This has happened on a few occassions though. I've got a whole other blog to write about that, maybe, who knows. I wasn't planning on writing all of this randomness up, but that what happens when you wake up from afternoon naps at 5:30 in the morning.

I guess I should conclude my remarks in some way, but I just don't know what to think at all. I'm frustrated that I have no one to talk to, and I guess I actually feel the need for the first time in a long while to just be with people if only I actually like them. Something like that. It's just what am I going to do about it. I guess that's the inconclusive remark for the day. Man, I need to stop before I hurt myself.

Ramen

I just ate a bowl of day old cold Ramen. You know what the sad part is. I enjoyed it almost as much as I do when under normal circumstances, although that's not that much anyway. I guess I must have been quite hungry. I'll just blame it on that. Yeah.

Florida

So this past week was my fun time in Florida. I got a new nickname on this trip. Grandpa. Going on a mission and attending a University other than BYU tends to put you in a totally different category than everyone else. That coupled with the fact that this band is made of mostly underclassmen. Since the tuba studio the largest, we don't even have any freshman tubas and we have a two juniors that didn't even make a band. Anyway, so the average age is probably 20, while I'm at 23 with one person that I know of older than me who's student teaching and couldn't do the top band because of it. So anyway, it just never ceases to amaze me how immature, irresponsible, and stupid some people can be. Course I guess I may have been the same at some point, but still. Case in point, you're in college and you're still saying 'penis' and 'boobies' over repeatedly and get a kick out of it. Grow up peoples. Let's see, what else. One guy got completely drunk and was smoking mota. He was quite high. Eventually he passed out. Well the rest of the band all wants to see, so it's kind of like a viewing with about 30 people going in and out of this room to see this guy completely passed out. Then one of the girls decides to get pictures with her on top of him, etc, etc. Then they decide to pick him up and leave him out on the porch completely passed out. So that was the first night.

Second night, we have a rehearsal just before we're released for the night. The band director's last words of the rehearsal were, "Let's get loaded." Obviously has more than one meaning, which, I might add the students took to heart. The same girl who took pictures decides to make a beer run for all the students since she's one of the few old enough to get it. She has so much, she can't even carry it all. She had to drag a box full of it along the floor of the hotel.

The third night is when we actually had the most amount of free time during the night, so I just decide to spend my time in the hotel. I'm much more of a home person and would rather curl up with a good book than go out for a night on the town. This is when they decided my new nickname would be grandpa. They(my roommates in the hotel) told me to join them and that they wouldn't get drunk, so I went ahead and went with them. They held pretty true to their word. Although they had to stop and get some Cuban cigars and smoke them, so I just tried to stay upwind from them. We ate at a restaurant, don't even remember the name, but had roast beef, Cuban style. Pretty good. Then we found a game place and fooled around there. So we're heading back to the hotel and run into other members of the band. One girl in particular is just absolutely gone, can't even stand on her own and completely, well, drunk. All the while people are making fun of her and messing with her, while one of her friends is telling everybody to leave her alone. Whatever, I guess I just don't understand it's appeal. The group I was with only had a beer each, so I guess that's not bad.

Anyway, I was glad to be home and away from the other people, it grated on me quite a bit. Anyway, I could get all philosophical about this, etc, etc, but school for me hasn't started yet, and I'm not up to using my mind just yet. Perhaps I will on related subjects eventually.

Music Major Rant

This is a topic that sadly enough only I would care about or even notice. I don't even think music majors would catch this as well as I would. My organist at church has the habit of adding notes during the hymns that aren't part of the hymns. Now this in and of itself isn't bothering to me. I do the same thing. What bugs the crap out of me is he adds thirds, too many of them. Any time there is a cadence he adds in an extra third. Do you realize how bad that sounds. Oh... the worst is when he's ending a piece, and like most things should end, they end in a perfect authentic cadence, but nnnnoooo... he has to add a third above it, do you realize how grating that is to the ears. Well, my ears anyway. This is the downside to being a music major with good ears, I catch way too much that should be ignored. It's so petty yet drives me up the wall. At least I can find the humor of how stupid I'm being when I think thoughts like this.

He did redeem himself though. We sang Ring Out Wild Bells, and I messed up in interpreting the timing on it, and in talking to him about it, he mentioned that if you take it at a much more accelerated pace it becomes a pirate song. It works really well to, listen it like that. I got a lot of amusement out of singing it to myself throughout church the rest of the day. Thankyou for sharing organist, you have redeemed yourself from your ungodly habit of adding thirds.