What a surprise... it's 3 in the morning...

No, I'm not at work. I'm in Columbia, MO at my in-laws tonight. I got to watch Saturday Night Live (It might not mean much to you, but I do enjoy me some Weekend Update). I love coming to Columbia, it's for St. Louis as St. George is for Las Vegas. A great place to get away for a weekend and hang out with good people. Sure, there's no raquetball or swimming pool, but the in-laws are fun to hang out with, so it evens out.

School begins again on Monday. I wish it could've been 2 weeks. I don't want to go back, but who does really. And at 27 I'm lucky still have a spring break, even if I do still work.

Growing up isn't what it's cracked up to be. I long for no bills, and for bumming rides from seminary to school. I wasn't a good student. I think at times, I'd be one of the students that Emily can't stand. I feel like I'm falling back into those rutts now (student wise, I don't bum rides to school anymore).

I'm very lucky that I have a wife who loves me. I'd probably be a bigger mess without her. She's sleeping right now in the basement. I miss not getting to see her more often.

I'm sorry this whole entry is fairly a downer. And recently my entries have been as well. But hey, it is 3 AM.

The Lie of "Spring Break"

I'm sure if I was younger, living off my parents' money and waking up from a hangover on South Padre Island, I wouldn't be writing the same things. But I'm not, so bear with me for being a little bitter.

I really can't complain too much, I'm getting work out of the way at the beginning of the week and I don't have to feel guilty for falling asleep during class. But I have to work on a case study (15 pages) for class (I wish I only had tests, I HATE homework), and I do have to go to work, though I do have the weekend off.

I suppose my bitterness is fueled by sleep deprived depression, which is helped a bit by trazadone (my favorite side-affect is a priapism, ask and I'll tell you), my beautiful sleep drug. I'm lucky to have a wife who loves me, and gives me permission to have fun and take time for myself.

I know that might sound odd, that she "gives me permission" but it is vital to my psyche. I sometimes feel crushed by expectation and thoughts of the future, to the point that I let it drag me down into inaction, so I need her to tell me it's OK to chill. Again, inaction sounds odd for when getting out there and doing something would make all the difference, but that's just the way I am, so deal with it.

Anyways, even though I will be unable to really enjoy the first half of the week, I plan on doing the most I can to make the second half of the week to feel like a real break. With any luck I'll be able to get a little fishing in with Paul (Emily's friend Melody's husband, and my constant source of temptation to play World of Warcraft) and play soccer on Saturday with church guys, which would be awesome.

Anyways, I suppose that Spring Break isn't so much the lie my bitter side would like it to be.

Les Cuisses de Grenouille

I just finished reading Pastwatch: The Redemption of Christopher Columbus, and like the Foundation series it focuses on how one event can shape history/destiny. Adding to that UNLV has had its best season in basketball since Tark the Shark left amid scandal in the early '90's. And thinking of UNLV and the books that I've recently read have gotten me to thinking about many of the events that have helped shaped my life, several of which had UNLV as their backdrop.

I'd say my first real defining moment took about 2 years. Everything that happened up to that point really feels like a wonderful prelude to my life. The friends that I had growing up and through high school helped me survive as a teenager must, and gave me the positive enforcement I needed not to do anything incredibly stupid. The BoB will forever be the best friends I could have ever hoped for.

My mission, when I look back at it, feels like my beginning. I am was longer, the wild zit faced scrawny white boy of the '90's. I calmed down considerably, my faced cleared up and I got a farmers tan. France shaped me. I suppose that's why I hated it for so long. I didn't love it like I should have.

I now think of it as home, and I love the people of my mission. I wonder what I would be like now if I had felt the same way while I was there.

I'm sure I'll write about other events of my life that have helped shape me (nursing school is one of them), but for now I'll leave it with the first big one.

By the way, UNLV beat BYU in the MWC Championship game. I love it when BYU loses (I also like it when U of U loses).

P.S. I may love the Bordelais and the Bayonnais, but Parisians are still assholes.

Calvin and Hobbes...?

I love Calvin and Hobbes. And I imagine some who does would find this somewhat blasphemous, but you can't help thinking that this is possible.

No title...not today...

Have you ever wanted to put a title onto your entry and all that comes to your mind is complete randomness? I know crazy isn't it? Anyways...

I totally dig My Chemical Romance. My Bro Dave gave me a mixed CD with "Welcome to the Black Parade" and "Helena" on it. I now can't stop listening to The Black Parade album. It rocks that hard.

A quick update in the world of Joe's Circadia. It's better, but I greatly look forward to the day when I work normal hours and I don't worry about school. It may be just a distant dream, but a good one.

My bro is now, officially, a RM. I'm happy for him and it's great listening to his mission stories and think about how different we had it. He cried when the toilet flushed. Crazyness. We watched Everything is Illuminated which I highly recomend. In the beginning, everyone (meaning my sister and mom) were wondering if he should be watching it, being all pure and all, but by the end they realized how great a movie it is.

And last of all I just read Ender's Game again for the first time since before my mission. Fantastic book. Hopefully, the movie isn't too far away.

It has been a crazy couple of weeks, with crazy sleep, crazy school, crazy work, crazy everything. I'm happy I have a wife who grounds my sanity.

Circadian

I lost my circadian rythmn. I lost it about a year ago. I work nights and go to school during the day and sleep when I can. My body hates me and it has recently rebelled. I'm not exactly sure what is was exactly, but it hasn't been pretty. I've missed school and work.

I don't feel like me.

I'd say that all I want to do is sleep, but I'm afraid if I do, I won't be able to sleep when I really want to. So today is going to be a rough one. I'm going to keep my eyes open for the rest of the day and then crash only when I get home from work tomorrow. I'm going to die, but I'll be fine in the end. I need to return to normal.

Wish me luck!

The Former Elder Southerland

For those who might wander onto this page, I suppose most of you know that I'm a Mormon. No, not Amish, Jehovah's Witness, Polygamist, or Scientologist, but a good ol' born in Utah Mormon. Furthermore, a thing about growing up mormon, and being a guy, most of us go on missions. No, not the secret kind where we uncover WMD's in Azerbijan, but the kind where we try and tell people about growing up in Utah...I mean what it is to be a mormon. Hopefully, some people listen and join up. (No, I didn't grow up in Utah... I grew up in it's evil neighbor, Nevada home of legalized gambling, prostitution, and all-you-can-eat buffets.)

Well, my brother, Pete, is coming home from his mission in the Dominican Republic this month (it is February, isn't it?), and it's got me thinking about mine.

I got to go back to the old mission area with Em over the summer. It was like going at see an old friend after you thought they might have forgotten you, only to find out they've been missing you too. It was wonderful. I wasn't the greatest missionary. I had a hard time getting like the French, and I wish I would've tried hard to love them like a missionary should. I met some amazing people while I was there, and going back helped me remember that there were many more amazing people than I let myself believe.

So, despite it's faults, France is a wonderful place, even if Parisian ruin it a bit. So, if you go skip the big city and go straight to the South, specifically the Basque country (Bayonne, Biarritz, Saint-Jean-de-Luz) and get to see how wonderful and freindly the French can really be.

(The pics are my bro, Pete, somewhere in the Dominican Republic and the Gare Bordeaux/St. Jean where my first adventures in France started.)