I’ve never smoked nor drank, but I know addiction. As a freshman, I almost destroyed my life thanks to Bumble Bee and a can opener. Every night for dinner, without fail, I ate a tuna taco. I couldn’t stop eating them. I think my body developed a reliance on the Omega 3 acids and the succulent smell of Chicken of the Sea. Other typical dorm room foods didn’t compare. Top Ramen? Macaroni and cheese? Spaghetti? Matchsticks compared to the torch of tuna tacos.
Now, don’t think that I was eating uncivilized canned filth. Au contraire. Picture a freshly squeezed canned fish wrapped into a golden brown tortilla treat, laced with lettuce, and slathered with a special spicy mayonnaise sauce (mayo, Tabasco, and a hint of lemon juice). Succulence.
The first bite into a well prepared tuna taco slaps the taste buds into attention. “What, Sergeant Dave?” they ask, “Can this meal really be healthy?” Yet, it is. All the food groups are represented—meat, grain, vegetables, dairy, and fruit (the lemon juice).
Dinner was my favorite hour of the day. I came home and raced for the can opener. At least, until…the addiction set in. Addictions are never a good thing. Even addictions to seemingly good things are never a good thing. Ever heard of an old lady who was addicted to love? Neither have I, because she died years ago.
My addiction to the tuna taco led me up a path of insanity. I would constantly parlance the grocery store ads, looking for deals on cans of tuna. I was a nutcase, nitpicking over the cost-taste benefit of abalone tuna vs. “that other kind.” I stopped caring whether the tuna was in water or artery clogging oil. Heck, it could be in dish soap. I’d still eat it. I stopped caring about expiration dates and brand names. I even stopped caring about whether tuna was dolphin safe or not. In fact, I started to prefer not. Flipper tastes oh so good with a hint of lemon juice.
How did I ever come out of my hysterical state and face reality with my addiction? I owe it all to my roommate. He said I was making our place smell like an aquarium. At first, I thought it was a compliment. But he wasn’t smiling. He said that he was going to throw away all of my tuna. Oh how I hated him! He didn’t understand me! He didn’t understand tuna!
I guess I was so high on Omega 3 and mercury that I didn’t fully appreciate his act of pure love. I didn’t understand that he really only wanted to help. All I could think about was how to make him end up swimming with the…well…tunas.
It’s been a few years now, and I am almost to Step 8 of overcoming my addiction. I started a program of the three-times-a-week tuna sandwich, and then graduated over to the once-in-a-while Tuna Helper. Now instead of tuna tacos, I eat spaghetti or chicken-and-rice. Perhaps sometime in the future I’ll mix in a bean burrito. I’m open to new things now. Something really caught my attention last week at the grocery store. I saw a can of oysters that I just have to try. I hear that they’re great with lemon juice.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Monday, January 7, 2008
I Bless the Rains Down In Africa
For my creative writing class, I have to write poems and I have to write 30 mins a day. Here's my first day of work. Not much today, but I did it quick (29 minutes--stickin' it to the man). I waited in line for half an hour at the Maeser Building today. Here's the result.
SUNFLOWER SEEDS
I’m from Ghana, she answered.
And you?
America.
I know that much, silly. Where?
Is that your lunch? Just that?
Might as well eat while I’m waiting.
You don’t suck the salt?
I don’t like it.
That’s the best part.
You have to spit the shells if you suck on it.
It makes you feel like a first basemen.
I like basketball. Not baseball.
Is it because you’re…
No.
(a new poem)
Wanna Chat?
I met a girl from Oregon, I met a girl from Ghana;
One looked sweet and innocent; the other, a piranha.
The African girl talked and talked—a conversation sauna;
But the Northwest Miss (you know the type) Hollister Prima Donna.
SUNFLOWER SEEDS
I’m from Ghana, she answered.
And you?
America.
I know that much, silly. Where?
Is that your lunch? Just that?
Might as well eat while I’m waiting.
You don’t suck the salt?
I don’t like it.
That’s the best part.
You have to spit the shells if you suck on it.
It makes you feel like a first basemen.
I like basketball. Not baseball.
Is it because you’re…
No.
(a new poem)
Wanna Chat?
I met a girl from Oregon, I met a girl from Ghana;
One looked sweet and innocent; the other, a piranha.
The African girl talked and talked—a conversation sauna;
But the Northwest Miss (you know the type) Hollister Prima Donna.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Don't Try Casting Your Lovespell On Me
If you’ve never been making your own secret blend of mustard-barbecue fry sauce only to be overcome by the titillating smell of cucumber melon, then perhaps you’ve never had a date accompany you to The Malt Shop. For that is what nearly always happens to the enterprising Yours Truly as he basks in a basket of french-fried potatoes.
For some strange reason that he wouldn’t bet a quarter-pounder on even pretending to understand, Girlof the Week doesn’t find salty fries or aerosolized grease especially conducive to the health of her epidermis. Any number of environmental factors might damage the skin, or so she claims as she spends an approximate eighth of her life applying various kinds of lotions to her body.
Girls, what’s up?
Have you ever seen a guy fret and frump over the condition of his skin, treating it like it was more important than salary cap negotiations in the National Basketball Association? Of course not. You’re too busy squeezing another drop of lotion onto your hand to notice that you’re even with a guy.
I, for one, am sick of playing second fiddle in the battle for a female’s attention. Sometimes it’s even third banjo I must play if the girl also has a fetish for chapstick. It’s embarrassing and disheartening to be less important than an artificially scented bottle of anything—perfume, frankincense, root beer extract. But lotion? If I can’t even steal your attention away from lotion, I might as well invest in that Xbox that always seems to find my eye when I open the Best Buy ads. You can have all the peach melon you want as long as I can be with the dudes blowing off the skin of alien warriors.
While I’m actually doing something productive, you girls can have a lotion party with all of your well-lubricated girlfriends. Maybe compare brands or something. Have a lotion slip-n-slide, a guess the fruit/fruit/vegetable and fruit/herb/fruit combination game. I bet there’s a lot of things you could do to make it fun. You'd better think of something. Because Lotion Girl, you sure ain’t getting any more of my attention!
For some strange reason that he wouldn’t bet a quarter-pounder on even pretending to understand, Girlof the Week doesn’t find salty fries or aerosolized grease especially conducive to the health of her epidermis. Any number of environmental factors might damage the skin, or so she claims as she spends an approximate eighth of her life applying various kinds of lotions to her body.
Girls, what’s up?
Have you ever seen a guy fret and frump over the condition of his skin, treating it like it was more important than salary cap negotiations in the National Basketball Association? Of course not. You’re too busy squeezing another drop of lotion onto your hand to notice that you’re even with a guy.
I, for one, am sick of playing second fiddle in the battle for a female’s attention. Sometimes it’s even third banjo I must play if the girl also has a fetish for chapstick. It’s embarrassing and disheartening to be less important than an artificially scented bottle of anything—perfume, frankincense, root beer extract. But lotion? If I can’t even steal your attention away from lotion, I might as well invest in that Xbox that always seems to find my eye when I open the Best Buy ads. You can have all the peach melon you want as long as I can be with the dudes blowing off the skin of alien warriors.
While I’m actually doing something productive, you girls can have a lotion party with all of your well-lubricated girlfriends. Maybe compare brands or something. Have a lotion slip-n-slide, a guess the fruit/fruit/vegetable and fruit/herb/fruit combination game. I bet there’s a lot of things you could do to make it fun. You'd better think of something. Because Lotion Girl, you sure ain’t getting any more of my attention!
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Ad Captandum Vulgus
Roommates and I watched the Republican Party New Hampshire debates this evening.
A few observations...
*Didn't it seem like it was Mitt Romney vs. everyone?
*What is that "Senate Smirk" that John McCain and Fred Thompson share together? They seemed like snickering schoolboys trying to one-up each other, like Zach Morris and Slater watching a Bayside beauty pageant.
*Facebook is now sponsoring Presidential debates, huh. What next...we rename worldwide organizations to the YouTube U.N. Peace Summit? The MySpace Presidential Press Conference?
*Apparently, Mitt Romney doesn't like personal attacks.
*Who do you think uses more hair gel? Mitt Romney or Hillary Clinton?
*Mitt Romney believes in free markets. A lot. He might even be married to them.
*Huckabee seemed to enjoy sitting silent while everyone else punched kidney shots at each other.
*Mitt--we pay a thousand dollars at a hospital to get "some sort of a repair?" What hospitals are you going to. Mitt...Jiffy Lube?
Yes Mr. Romney, we'll be finished with your grandson in about 20 minutes. We just need to test for streptococcus and then perhaps order in some antibiotics for repairs.
A few observations...
*Didn't it seem like it was Mitt Romney vs. everyone?
*What is that "Senate Smirk" that John McCain and Fred Thompson share together? They seemed like snickering schoolboys trying to one-up each other, like Zach Morris and Slater watching a Bayside beauty pageant.
*Facebook is now sponsoring Presidential debates, huh. What next...we rename worldwide organizations to the YouTube U.N. Peace Summit? The MySpace Presidential Press Conference?
*Apparently, Mitt Romney doesn't like personal attacks.
*Who do you think uses more hair gel? Mitt Romney or Hillary Clinton?
*Mitt Romney believes in free markets. A lot. He might even be married to them.
*Huckabee seemed to enjoy sitting silent while everyone else punched kidney shots at each other.
*Mitt--we pay a thousand dollars at a hospital to get "some sort of a repair?" What hospitals are you going to. Mitt...Jiffy Lube?
Yes Mr. Romney, we'll be finished with your grandson in about 20 minutes. We just need to test for streptococcus and then perhaps order in some antibiotics for repairs.
Friday, January 4, 2008
No Disputin'--It's Putin
Thanks to an old roommate, our apartment gets TIME magazine. This week, TIME released it's "Person of the Year" award. The winner? Russian president Vladimir"ly a flesh wound" Putin.
I was reading his interview with the TIME editor-and-chief (and they make sure we know it) John Huey, and one of Putin's answers caught my eye. Here's the question:
Has your KGB training helped you as President? There's an old saying, "Once a spy, always a spy."
And the answer,
"Well, those are lies. Naturally, some of the background can be of heklp. they taught me to think independently. They taught me to gather objective information, first and foremost. The second thing, from working in intelligence, is learning the skill of working with people.
Whoa, whoa, woah. Putin...a people person? I don't see it. At all.
A few reasons why:
1) He hasn't smiled since 1961, when his babushka told him that he had to strike a grin if he wanted her to make his cousins leave him solo with his game of Risk--so he could work out conquering the world. Alone.
2) The KGB doesn't teach people skills. The KGB teaches that people kill.
3) Putin read the book "Seven Habits of Highly Effective People." He tore out all of the chapters except one. Sharpen the Saw.
4) Back in his KGB days, Putin walked into the room and all talking stopped. "Way to kill the conversation," someone said. And she meant it. Literally.
5) Isn't charisma a Russian word meaning, "Our president bought his personality off of eBay for 50 rubles and a glass of vodka."
6)Wasn't the eBay seller a power-hungry gerbil?
Ok, enough about Putin. Let's talk about the second place runner up, Al Gore. Now wait a second, before I even mention Al Gore, I've gotta ask--Who is picking these people of the year? Do they find any famous person with no personality, plaster the names on a dart board, and then moller someone up with Vodka and turn them loose? What is their selection meetings like?
Time Writer 1: Yeah...you know...I think it should probably come down to Putin and Gore for the top two.
Time Writer 2: Oh, I agree. These gentlemen are my heroes. When I was studying feminist comparative literature at Brown, I did my thesis on "The Influences of Post-Communist Gerbils and KGB Politicos on Global Climate Change and I Love Love Love Hillary Clinton."
Time Writer 1: Get out of the city! Me too!
I was reading his interview with the TIME editor-and-chief (and they make sure we know it) John Huey, and one of Putin's answers caught my eye. Here's the question:
Has your KGB training helped you as President? There's an old saying, "Once a spy, always a spy."
And the answer,
"Well, those are lies. Naturally, some of the background can be of heklp. they taught me to think independently. They taught me to gather objective information, first and foremost. The second thing, from working in intelligence, is learning the skill of working with people.
Whoa, whoa, woah. Putin...a people person? I don't see it. At all.
A few reasons why:
1) He hasn't smiled since 1961, when his babushka told him that he had to strike a grin if he wanted her to make his cousins leave him solo with his game of Risk--so he could work out conquering the world. Alone.
2) The KGB doesn't teach people skills. The KGB teaches that people kill.
3) Putin read the book "Seven Habits of Highly Effective People." He tore out all of the chapters except one. Sharpen the Saw.
4) Back in his KGB days, Putin walked into the room and all talking stopped. "Way to kill the conversation," someone said. And she meant it. Literally.
5) Isn't charisma a Russian word meaning, "Our president bought his personality off of eBay for 50 rubles and a glass of vodka."
6)Wasn't the eBay seller a power-hungry gerbil?
Ok, enough about Putin. Let's talk about the second place runner up, Al Gore. Now wait a second, before I even mention Al Gore, I've gotta ask--Who is picking these people of the year? Do they find any famous person with no personality, plaster the names on a dart board, and then moller someone up with Vodka and turn them loose? What is their selection meetings like?
Time Writer 1: Yeah...you know...I think it should probably come down to Putin and Gore for the top two.
Time Writer 2: Oh, I agree. These gentlemen are my heroes. When I was studying feminist comparative literature at Brown, I did my thesis on "The Influences of Post-Communist Gerbils and KGB Politicos on Global Climate Change and I Love Love Love Hillary Clinton."
Time Writer 1: Get out of the city! Me too!
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Wish I may, Wish I might
Saw Stardust tonight.
Wouldn't it be great if girls really did glow when they were falling in love? I know it would help me out a bit. I seem to always misinterpret things.
What is it about swords and princesses, kings and castles, that makes me enjoy watching a movie? I remember watching Princess Bride over and over and over again when I was little. There's something about the fairy tale midevil concept that captures my imagination. I was a sucker for A Kid In King Arthur's Court when I was a juvi, and that show was cheesy as all get out (with the kid from Rookie of the Year posing as a hero, to boot). First Knight? Liked it. My favorite books in elementary school were the Chronicles of Narnia series. Maybe that was some of the impetus for my king/princess/prince/sword fighting/archer/adventure story enjoyment.
Some funny comments from Ryan today:
Ryan: Your driver's license says that you're 5-11. How come you didn't put 6-0?
Me: Because I am 5-11. Why would I put 6-0?
Ryan: Sounds better.
Ryan: (as we're pulling out after playing bball from an empty church parking lot) Let's spin donuts.
Me: Naw...my car's (a five speed manual transmission VW Jetta) too old. It's officially ten years in '08. I don't think she could take it.
Ryan: Well...it may be old, but it's clutch. (har!)
Wouldn't it be great if girls really did glow when they were falling in love? I know it would help me out a bit. I seem to always misinterpret things.
What is it about swords and princesses, kings and castles, that makes me enjoy watching a movie? I remember watching Princess Bride over and over and over again when I was little. There's something about the fairy tale midevil concept that captures my imagination. I was a sucker for A Kid In King Arthur's Court when I was a juvi, and that show was cheesy as all get out (with the kid from Rookie of the Year posing as a hero, to boot). First Knight? Liked it. My favorite books in elementary school were the Chronicles of Narnia series. Maybe that was some of the impetus for my king/princess/prince/sword fighting/archer/adventure story enjoyment.
Some funny comments from Ryan today:
Ryan: Your driver's license says that you're 5-11. How come you didn't put 6-0?
Me: Because I am 5-11. Why would I put 6-0?
Ryan: Sounds better.
Ryan: (as we're pulling out after playing bball from an empty church parking lot) Let's spin donuts.
Me: Naw...my car's (a five speed manual transmission VW Jetta) too old. It's officially ten years in '08. I don't think she could take it.
Ryan: Well...it may be old, but it's clutch. (har!)
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
The Lips That Touch Liquor Shall Never Touch Mine
It's 3:36 on the first day of 2008. Late enough to not worry about what time I end up going to bed.
As I was stoppped at a check point for DUI drivers in Springville after attending a New Year's Party, I realized something. You can have fun without drinking. All it takes is a little creativity, a deck of cards, a pair of socks, fun people, and a vegetable tray. (Don't ask me why happenin' parties always seem to have vegetable trays. Maybe it's the snap peas) .
From my lifetime observations, let me tell you a few do's and don'ts for a good New Years celebration. Trust me, I speak from experience on these:
Do: Attend a party mixed with guys and girls.
Don't: Watch the New Years ball drop at your Grandma's house by yourself on a 10" television with a six pack of diet caffeine free coke.
Do: Kiss a cute girl/guy
Don't: Kiss ANY girl/guy
Do: Ring in the New Years with a general tumult of excitement--shouting, banging pots, singing, applause
Don't: Ring in the New Years with cousins blowing incessently for hours on those kazoo-sounding devil whistles.
Do: Stay up til midnight and watch the new year march forward.
Don't: Go to bed at 10:30 because the MTC rules say you should, and, as a missionary, it's better to follow the rules hyaku percento. A little bit lame, young missionary Dave.
Well, that should give you a general idea. I keep learning new rules every year. Who knows what 2008 holds?
新年が明けましておめでとうございます!!!
As I was stoppped at a check point for DUI drivers in Springville after attending a New Year's Party, I realized something. You can have fun without drinking. All it takes is a little creativity, a deck of cards, a pair of socks, fun people, and a vegetable tray. (Don't ask me why happenin' parties always seem to have vegetable trays. Maybe it's the snap peas) .
From my lifetime observations, let me tell you a few do's and don'ts for a good New Years celebration. Trust me, I speak from experience on these:
Do: Attend a party mixed with guys and girls.
Don't: Watch the New Years ball drop at your Grandma's house by yourself on a 10" television with a six pack of diet caffeine free coke.
Do: Kiss a cute girl/guy
Don't: Kiss ANY girl/guy
Do: Ring in the New Years with a general tumult of excitement--shouting, banging pots, singing, applause
Don't: Ring in the New Years with cousins blowing incessently for hours on those kazoo-sounding devil whistles.
Do: Stay up til midnight and watch the new year march forward.
Don't: Go to bed at 10:30 because the MTC rules say you should, and, as a missionary, it's better to follow the rules hyaku percento. A little bit lame, young missionary Dave.
Well, that should give you a general idea. I keep learning new rules every year. Who knows what 2008 holds?
新年が明けましておめでとうございます!!!
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