Accountability? What's that?

Lyndsay and I were talking the other night about her work and it reminded me of my days working at the MTC, which, when I say that, it makes it sound like it was SO long ago (It feels like that some days! haha). Lyndsay made a comment about accountability that totally struck a chord with me, which is what leads me to writing this post. It seems in the struggle for "free choice" many are abandoning all notions of accountability. Almost as if the two couldn't possibly exist. Since when did accountability become a bad thing? Lyndsay shared one example of this guy who called her up at work and was SUPER frustrated that he couldn't find the clinic for his appointment. Lyndsay asked what address he had since a few clinics had recently moved. The address was for the clinic was on Street Y (I will leave out the real names since they won't make a difference) and the man calling had the correct street address. However, he couldn't find the address. He begins yelling and cursing and getting all bent out of shape that Lyndsay and her company had made the address SO hard to find. Well, come to find out, the man wasn't even on Street Y. He was on a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT STREET! And yet, it was still Lyndsay's fault that he couldn't find the address. How does that work? Another example. While working at the MTC I was almost daily amazed at how quickly individuals would point the finger of blame at God for their own inadequacies. It was God's fault that they couldn't keep the law of chastity. It was God's fault that they "couldn't refrain" from sin. It was ALWAYS somebody else's fault. Does this mean that when I am out playing golf, and I miss a shot, it is because the wind didn't blow my ball in the right direction? Or because the golf course chi was out of wack, therefore meaning the owners of the course hadn't properly dialed in the course-wide zen? Or, heaven forbid, could it simply be that I messed up my shot? Maybe my timing was off in my club rotation, maybe my take-back was too shallow, maybe I lifted my head too early, etc. There are a myriad of reasons for a muffed golf shot, but the point being that I am the one swinging the club, nobody else. I think this is partly what Christ's apostles understood when, upon learning that one of the apostles would betray Christ, they immediately said "Is it I?" <----- Accountability. I think this is one of Satan's greatest undercover undermining of God's plan for each of us. Let me just say, I am so thankful for parents who have helped me to understand accountability and the fact that I make the decisions, and by the decisions I make, I choose the consequence.

Double Meanings

So, we all know that the scriptures are full of double-meaning scriptures. One such example comes from the Old Testament in Amos 8: 11-12 where it foretells a famine in the land..."not of famine of bread or thirst for water, but of hearing the word of the Lord..." And we understand this, in the LDS church, to be indicative not only of the rejection of early prophets and their words, but also a prophecy concerning the Great Apostasy. There are other examples as well, but one in particular stood out to me today. It comes from D&C 121:33, which reads: "How long can rolling waters remain impure? What power shall stay the heavens? As well might man stretch forth his puny arm to stop the Missouri river in its decreed course, or to turn it up stream, as to hinder the Almighty from pouring down knowledge from heaven upon the heads of the Latter-day Saints" (emphasis added). Obviously the part I am referring to is the emboldened section in the middle. This verse, as you can read, is speaking specifically about Heavenly Father pouring out knowledge and blessings upon the members of His Kingdom here on the earth. Nothing can stop Him in His work. But I stumbled upon another additional and seemingly prophetic meaning of this scripture today: Micah. He has an amazing amount of energy some days, and today was no exception. And despite my sincerest efforts I feel like a puny man in the middle of the Missouri trying to change its direction and course when I try and bridle my son's energy and put it to good use (i.e. cleaning up his messy room or being kind to his sister). I love the energy, but there seems to be no way to channel it to more constructive uses instead of destruction! hahaha. My "puny arm" just isn't cutting it. :) But I am happy he has so much energy and finds joy in so many simple things, like completely destroying his room. Entropy is real! hahaha. I love you, Micah!

Should I keep my Facebook account?

What has Facebook become? I remember, upon first returning home from Virginia, all my friends were talking incessantly about Facebook and about how much time they wasted on there. I remember thinking "What is the point?" Then one summer, about two years ago, I called a good friend of mine (a convert to the church in Virginia who was living in Cali) and he didn't answer his phone. I left a message letting him know I was thinking about him and wanted to see how things were going out in California. He called me back two or three weeks later and let me know that he had been out to sea (he is in the Navy) and I was one of two messages he actually had received on his phone after being out to sea for three months! That's just crazy. And what's worse, the other message was from a telemarketer. So, I decided to get a Facebook account in order to keep in touch with him, which I believe was a worthy goal and purpose. Since then, I have become exposed to what Facebook seems to have become, and I am seriously re-considering my decision. Here are some of my complaints:

1.) I have always said that real friends are better than virtual friends. Hands down, I would much rather be a friend to someone in real life than to claim them as a friend on Facebook.

2.) I have always heard the argument that Facebook allows me to "keep in touch" with people I haven't seen in a while. I understand the argument, but seriously, when was the last time you actually talked to one of these people? Or how many of them have you actually un-friended? Or how many of them have you even commented on their posts? Other than my initial invite, I don't think I have done any of those things with those "long-lost-friends." So, can I really call them my friend? I guess I know that they went and bought a new fishing pole the other week. Does that qualify me as a friend?

3.) All the time I see people ragging on their family and/or friends (real life ones, not virtual ones) who are also their "friends" on Facebook and most likely see the status. Since when did personal feuds or disagreements become public? Am I archaic to think that if I am having a problem with someone, I should go to that person and work it out? This absolutely BLOWS MY MIND that people feel justified in publicly trashing on their friends and family, especially when that person will most likely read the status and see the comments below the person's post about how sorry they feel for that person and that they family or friends are being so mean. Imagine if when you messed up in school instead of having your teacher take you aside and reprimanding you or having to go to the principle's office, the teacher marched you down to the office and announced over the intercom that you had messed up? And imagine if the teacher then allowed all of his/her friends to come in and rag on you? (And I won't even go into situations where you may not have been in the wrong in the first place!!!!!) If that happened in real life, that school teacher would instantly be out of a job, and chances are the school would be shut down because no parents would want to subject their kids to that kind of treatment. (You can tell this is my biggest beef with people in Facebook)

4.) Since when did "un-friending" or even blocking becoming a retaliation tactic? I have to admit, I am guilty of this on one count, and it was one of the silliest decisions I ever made (f.y.i. I worked it out with the person, talking face-to-face, not by posting it on Facebook). There are some who get SUPER offended over another person un-friending them or blocking them on Facebook. You would think the person had gone and peed in their car. I mean, seriously people, come on!

5.) Farmville........need I say more?

Now, of course this post makes me sound like a hater, and truth be told, I understand that most of these complaints have to do with the people on Facebook and not the entity itself. I love that I can know what's going on in the lives of others. I also love that I can get a hold of someone in a foreign country whose cell-phone doesn't work. However, each of those things used be to substituted with a different communication technique (i.e. email or, heaven forbid, a telephone!). So, don't be surprised if I suddenly fall of the Facebook map sometime in the near future. And no, it isn't because I don't love you, I just don't care about your finding of a virtual cow. :)

Sometimes I don't want to log into Facebook

I was going to post this on Facebook, but felt it wasn't really the right place to post. Truth be told, one of the only reasons I am typing this now is because I just feel like I want to have it written down somewhere. I get scared sometimes to log into Facebook because I worry about seeing comments about my Uncle Alain. I guess I am still sad about the whole thing. I worry so much about his kids, his wife, his family, how they are holding up, etc. Growing up I always felt like I was pretty good with death, but I think part of that is because I inadvertently kept myself too far from the situation to allow myself to feel. I guess maybe I was scared of how I would feel, I don't know. Uncle Alain, I miss you real bad. Every once in a while I stumble upon your funeral program paper and a flood of emotion hits me. When I don't think about it I am okay, but when I see things that remind me, I can't help but miss you, and wish you were around. I guess I kind of don't feel justified in feeling sad since there are others who are closer to you and who feel a greater hole in their heart. I guess that's why I didn't want to post this on Facebook and decided to write it down here. I feel myself wanting to be more and more like you, almost like becoming like you will make sure you will stay with me forever. And sometimes I feel like that is a pretty selfish thing to think. But more than anything, I just miss having you around. I miss your hugs, your smile, and your warm friendliness. I miss having you call the house asking to speak to my dad. I miss your surprise visits and I am really worried about your kids and how they are feeling. I hope to help them feel better and help them make it through this tough time. I also worry about my dad. I try not to comment on anything about you because if it makes me sad, I can't imagine how it must make him feel. I now understand what the scriptures mean about speaking of the Savior's atonement as the balm of Gilead. I am so happy that our Savior provided relief from pain like this. I guess I just need time. I miss you, and I am so very anxious to reunite with you in heaven someday, to feel your warm embrace, and to have you smile at me. I pray all is well with you, and that you are finding great success in your work on the other side. I love you, Uncle Alain, and I love my Savior for providing a way for me to turn these ashes into beauty, to lift the hands that hang helplessly down. God be with you 'til we meet again.

60% Faith and Ball Bearings

So, needless to say.....it has been a WHILE since I wrote on my blog. Part of the delay has been due to my busy schedule, or at least that's what I like to tell myself. However, in truth, the greatest reason for the delay has simply been because of laziness. Several times over the last few months I have felt the "burning desire" to write on my blog, but obviously that burning was more of a mildly warm sensation that was easily choked out by golf, television, and the occasional "men don't blog" ego that overpowers the true blogger within me. In any event, here I go, entering the blogging world like a "thief in the night" with hopes that I will stick around longer than the 15 minutes it will take me to write the 200-300 words in this post.

For the past year or so I have been suffering from the feeling that our car is dying a low and painful death. I think part of that is fueled by my desire for the "new" and part of that if fueled by the fact that our car isn't in tip-top shape. I know, I know, college students aren't supposed to have it "good," but I really wanted to have a car that I felt would keep me on the road and safe. Recently I took on what was to me a massive car project - the oil-pan gasket. Since I am not a car person, this was quite the feat for me to accomplish (I say "me" but truthfully I couldn't have done it without the help of my brother, Jean-Michel). 8 hours of work, some gall bladder trouble, and lots of oil was not enough to stop us and I felt like quite the little mechanic for about a week's time (despite the fact that the oil leak was not localized to the oil-pan gasket alone. In other words, the oil spot under my car is still growing, but thankfully at a much slower rate). However, recently our car decided to throw another tantrum that landed it back in the auto shop for the greater portion of today.

Initially, the goal was to simply get some new tires and an alignment (our two front tires were wearing unevenly on the inside). However, our brakes recently starting making this sound that.....Well, you know that feeling you get inside when someone scrapes their nails on the chalkboard? Or the lurching inside that comes as a result of "squeaky chalk?" Or that uneasy pain that comes from getting some sand in your mouth and biting down? That is how our brakes felt. So, when I went into the shop this morning I told the mechanic that I needed two new tires ($178) an alignment ($60-80) and some work on the brakes ($???). My prayer was that the brake problem would be small (those of you who have had your car in the shop know that these types of prayers are uttered in vain because anything that sounds like it isn't a big deal, costs about $1200!!). Well, true to form, the shop called me about 10:00 and told me that the problem with my brakes was not machinable and that I was looking at $250 to replace my front brakes and rotors. *sigh* Joy.....

So, Lyndsay and I were expecting something on the order of $480-500 for this trip to the auto shop. Not exactly an exciting event, but we felt more or less prepared for this kind of a hit. Then around 3:00 the auto shop calls again. All of a sudden I could hear a "sucking sound coming from my wallet" as my father-in-law would say. "Well sir, when we were taking off your front right tire, the bearings completely fell apart, so we had to replace them."

Me: "Okay......"

Shop: "So, this kind of a job usually runs about $113."

Me: (silence) ".....Okay, so what is the total bill?"

Shop: "Well, with the (voice trails off and all I hear is ChaCHING! ChaCHING! ChaChing!)...five hundred and sixty seven dollars..."

Me: (silence) "..Okay..."

Shop: "So, your car is ready to be picked up."

Me: "....okay...."

Now, an extra $67 wasn't the end of the world, especially considering the fact that the job usually cost a little more than a hundred bucks. However, that brought our running total to about $567 more than we could afford to spend on our car and about $87 more than we were "optimistically" expecting to spend. Needless to say, I was worried. In fact, I was struggling with emotions of anger and flat-out despair as I went to the auto shop to claim my car. I paid the bill (which luckily they cut down to $535 instead of $567) and left with my car.

Before going home I stopped at my parent's house to deliver some wires that I had received out of the blue from my father. While there, my emotions finally got the best of me. I couldn't contain my fear and despair anymore. When I began to cry my dad asked "What's wrong" to which I replied "I don't know how I am going to pay for this." My dad (and my sister, who happened to be in the room at the time) came and gave me a big hug and my dad (coupled with a conversation I had with my mom previous to getting my car) proceeded to open my eyes to one of the most amazing lessons I have learned in my life about faith. My dad shared a specific experience where he had to get some work done on his car where the mechanic quoted him a price of $350 for the job including parts and labor (all the other shops around quoted him $900 or more). Naturally my dad took the quote, but when he went to the shop to pay for his car, the manager of the place told me dad "Okay, that will be $530." The mechanic stared at the computer with utter shock in his eyes and then tried to hide his initial reaction. The manager had added an extra $180 to my dad's bill for no apparent reason. My dad was frustrated, but being my dad, he didn't put up a fight and paid the bill. The very next day, my parents went out to get some book shelves for my dad's cd's and dvd's. They planned to use the money they had saved ver the past few months to purchase the shelves. Interestingly enough, my parents were able to find some deals and ended their shopping with exactly $180 left over from their savings. That made the difference.

As I looked back at what recently has happened with our finances, I realized that these wires I received "out of the blue" (I put in the quotations because my dad later told me that He was specifically told to give those wires to me, even though He planned on doing them), combined with some money I had received for an old set of golf clubs and some money we had received to cover the cost of some clothes that were ruined in our Wymount dryers added up to almost exactly, to the dollar, the amount we owed in order to fix our car.

Today I learned that previously in my life I felt like I had lived by faith, and maybe I did to the best of my ability. However, today, while "hanging over the edge" with the expenses for our car, my parents helped to open my eyes to see God's hand in my life. I learned that living by faith often means that we aren't just close to the edge, but we are literally hanging over the edge with nothing else to do. It is during these times that we need to open our eyes to see and open our ears to hear the ways that God has provided a way out of our difficulty. I learned that 60% faith won't cut it. I learned that God truly can cover the extra cost of ball bearings and provide the necessary relief and faith to face our challenges with confidence and peace. I won't lie, living by faith is SCARY!!!! In fact, I don't believe I have ever felt as scared and uncertain as I did today. However, because of loving and experienced parents, and because of a loving Heavenly Father, my eyes were opened to the tender mercies of God and to His divine providence!

The Best Things in Life. . .

As most of you already know, Lyndsay gave birth today to our second child, Ava Jane Budge. (I don't know why, but I have been really tempted to say that Lyndsay "passed" our child. I don't know why. It isn't like she was a rock or something! Although, I imagine the pain associated with that kind of an experience is somewhat similar to what a girl 5'2" girl must feel trying to push out a 9 lb. 12 oz. baby!) I have been thinking a lot about the whole experience and how it has been very different for me this time compared with the last child we had. I thought that I would share some of my thoughts and emotions that I had throughout the day as Lyndsay gave birth to (passed) our little angel.

Most of you who know me know that I have spoken a little about the differences in anticipation between the two children. With Micah, I was terrified! I mean TERRIFIED!!! I didn't know what to expect, I wasn't totally sure if we were ready, and when we took Micah home, I remember thinking to myself: "I am going to kill this child." (Now, let me be clear in saying that I didn't want to harm my child out of frustration, although I am sure that most parents, including me, have felt that way. Instead, I thought I was going to kill him because of my lack of knowledge concerning raising a child.) Luckily Micah is still alive today, although there were some close calls: using the couch as an art canvas, throwing things at other people including mom and dad, etc. (I feel like I need to let you all know that I have learned, from Micah, that I was more prepared than I knew. I was surprised to find the amount of inspiration, support, and love throughout the entire process and I wouldn't trade my little train conductor for anything in the world. In fact, the two days we have spent in the hospital have been some of the most difficult for me because I have had to be away from my son for so long. Who would have thought that the couch artist would have such an amazing spot in my heart!)

In anticipation for this, our second child, I do not believe there was a single ounce of fear in my body. In fact, I was secretly rooting/praying/hoping that Lyndsay would go into labor early so our little angel could be here! I know Heavenly Father is in control and I was more than happy to accept His will with all of this, but I am sure glad he saw fit to allow Ava to come to us almost an entire week early.

While at the hospital, before Ava was born, I was all smiles. (Part of that probably came from the fact that I actually had a decent night's rest before heading to the hospital. With Micah, Lyndsay went into labor right as we were preparing to go to bed. I didn't sleep for nearly 36 hours! But it was amazing how awake I was and how alert I felt as I was waiting for our little Micah to come! Once he was born, I seriously hit the wall! haha.) I kept looking at Lyndsay and smiling, and looking back at my playing cards (we were playing skip-bo, which, for some reason or another has become our unofficial official "wife's-in-labor"-game.), and then I would look back and Lyndsay and smile. I also remember feeling the butterflies in my stomach. The same butterflies that I felt just before getting on the "rocket" and "re-entry" rides at Lagoon several years back. Almost as if I knew I was in for a roller-coaster of emotional joy. I couldn't help but feel like our little family was going to be more complete.

Well, the time came for Lyndsay to push. I was a little worried about how I would react to the whole process because I tend to be a little queezy with things like that. It isn't that I feel like I want to throw up or anything, I just go light-headed and almost pass out. The funniest part is that I don't even realize what is happening until it is almost too late. (When I was younger, I had to get stitches in my finger and I thought it was so cool to watch the stitches go in. My mom and dad had to tell me to sit down and put my head between my knees before I passed out. I didn't believe them, but as I have been trained by my mom, "I hear and I obey." It wasn't until I put my head between my knees that I realized I was almost a goner!) However, with Ava, I was totally fine. I would look at Lyndsay, hold my breath while she pushed, and then I would peak down at the progress. Lyndsay did great, by the way. She had that "little" baby out in about 15 minutes of pushing. (When she did it so fast, I remembered a line from one of her friend's blogs where her friend said that she felt like her body was made for having babies. I don't know if I would go as far to say that for Lyndsay, but she is pretty close!)

When Ava came out and she first began to cry, it took everything within me to stop keep from crying. I think that my emotions came through a lot more with Ava because I was able to really focus on how I felt instead of rushing around like crazy when Lyndsay was taken away for her emergency C-section with Micah. I just stood there with a HUGE smile on my face, watching as the nurses took over and did all the stuff they had to do. She didn't cry much, which seems to be a pattern with her. I think the only times she has really cried have been when she was given a bath and when she had a bit of a stuffy nose. She is completely opposite from Micah in that respect. (Micah is like me in that he wants to be a part of everything that is going on. He doesn't want to miss one second! Ava seems to be more like Lyndsay: very quiet, calm, serene, and enjoys being at peace.) For me, however, hearing the cry was such an amazing experience. I always thought that movies did a good job of kind of portraying the emotions that come when you first hear the baby cry (the movies always go silent and you hear a single cry from the baby. Everyone gets all happy and blah blah blah). They don't even come close! I can't even describe the kind of love/joy/elation that comes from that kind of an experience. (It makes me wonder how my Father in Heaven must feel when I do things right, or when I come closer to Him in some way or another.)

We spent the next two days coming up with a name. We tried Charly Jane, Alivia Jane, Taytum Rachel, etc. Those four were our main choices until Lyndsay sent me a text message as I went off to take one of my finals. She said, "Hey, how do you feel about Ava Jane?" It felt like the first time I laid eyes on Micah and knew that he was going to be called "Micah." I knew it would be right and that she looked like an Ava. (Now, the rule is that if/when we have our next girl, you can't take our names because if our girl looks like an Alivia, then we are taking it! Our territory has already been claimed so BACK OFF! haha)

Now, our little Ava is stuck in the Newborn Intensive Care Unit trying to get her blood sugar and heart all sorted out. I can't even begin to describe the kind of grief and sorrow that a parent feels to see his/her little child go through what they do. Ava has been such a trooper. In fact, she sleeps through most of all that they do to her (I consider that to be a blessing from my Father in Heaven because if she cried through all of that, I am pretty sure I would lose it!). Despite the difficulty of having to leave her at the hospital when we go home tomorrow, I know that she will be okay. Maybe God is just keeping her at the hospital for a week until we are able to make it through our finals! Who knows? I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case.

Anyway, I could go on and on, but I think that my novelette needs to come to a close. The last few things I have to say have to do with the title of my post. I have heard it said that "the best things in life, they sure aren't free." I think I would have to agree, but maybe not in the way that most would think. I have learned and been reminded these past couple days that the best things in life come at the cost of giving of yourself in order to bless and lift the life of another. It isn't free. It takes a lot of love, patience, and sacrifice (and "bearing down"). It takes dedication and being in tune with the spirit. It takes just a little extra time to stop by, to write a card, to visit, to sit and just be there, to give a hug, a kiss, a gentle touch. Yes, I have learned these past couple days that true happiness, true joy, true love comes from sacrificing oneself in the service of others. Thank you all so much for your sacrifices in our behalf! We sure love and appreciate you!

"Adventure is out there!"

First off, I need to give a small apology for my rant and rave on the last post. Obviously I was pretty frustrated that day! haha. I actually had MUCH MUCH more that I wanted to say, but I stopped to read through my post and thought that I should probably just stop where I was at. You will all be pleased to know that I have recovered from my previous frustration.

So, we recently picked up the movie "UP" on blu-ray. We watch it probably about once or twice a day for Micah because he loves it so much. In fact, the first time we saw that movie was the first time we decided to take Micah to the movie theater. It was, for the most part, a big success meaning he made it mostly through the entire movie without fussing too much. There was one part in particular that was pretty funny though. We were watching the movie and it got to that part where the big thunderstorm comes while they are flying in the house. Carl Frederickson (the old man) and Russell (the little boy) are being tossed back and forth in the house, you see thunder and lightning, and there is menacing music going on in the background. For a child, it is pretty intense. Well, the suspense keeps building and building until the screen suddenly goes black and it is completely silent. Micah was very worried about the old man and the boy so while we were in the theater when the screen went black and it went silent, Micah screams out, "OH NO!" EVERYONE in the theater laughed, including Lyndsay and Me. Every time I watch that movie I remember that story!

There is also another thought that I have each time I watch that movie. I can't help but think about the adventures that I have had in my lifetime. I have had some pretty wild experiences: sledding off a roof, white-water rafting, getting in accidents, spinning out going fifty on state street, getting shot at, going over a sheer drop in a snowmobile, a one-sided snowball fight (We had a water balloon launcher! haha!), hitting myself with a golf ball, etc. (If any of those stories intrigue you, please, feel free to ask. I am more than happy to share and there are MANY more where that came from!) However, I would have to say, hands down, that my greatest and most favorite adventure (the "funnerest," as my family would say) is being married to my wife, Lyndsay, and facing the tests and trials of life together. We have only been married for 3.5 years, but there have been plenty of adventures in that time, and I am even more excited for the years to come. Raising Micah, cleaning Micah's messes, changing our definition of "fun" from "fun for us" to "fun for Micah, which translates to fun for us," learning and loving each others little fetishes and habits, learning to support one another in the midst of all we have to do, making the most of our one or two waking hours spent together each day, etc. We have had many adventures, and continue to have many more. The really interesting thing about what I have said concerning our adventures is that they don't include going to exotic destinations, fanciful vacations, etc. Instead, our adventures have come from the tests, trials, and joys derived from daily living. And there is nobody other than my wife that I would like to have with me as we face the adventures of life together. I love you, sweetheart!

What would the pioneers say?

Have you ever found yourself asking this question? I seriously think about it all the time. When I am driving on a bumpy road I think, this road is bad, but I bet the pioneers would be pleased with the "smooth" ride. Also, I think about the complaints we have with traffic, and then I think about how long it took for the pioneers to get across the plains. However, the topic I reflect on most often is communication. I can't even imagine how mind-boggled the pioneers would be if they saw how some individuals communicate in our day. Specifically, I am talking about those individuals who can carry on five conversations at once. You know you have seen them before. These are the people who have a cell-phone fused to their hand, their rear firmly planted in front of a computer, and three or four people hovering around them at all times. They are simultaneously texting three people at the same time, while speaking face-to-face to someone, and they are chatting on facebook with their "BFF!" In fact, I know several people who have gotten into accidents (often with stationary objects) because they "really needed" to "talk" to someone (be it via text, typing, or heaven forbid, speaking). I admit that I am not immune to the whole texting thing, and I actually chat on the computer for my job, but it amazes me when I see an individual who can carry on so many conversations at once. These communication addicts remind me of that kid on Disney's up. The second he wakes up from sleeping: "Hey! Where's Kevin? Is he gone? What happened? Where did he go?" Except it is "Hey! How's Susan? I haven't talked to her in like 2 hours. What happened to Bobby? Where did Jill go?" I can't help but wonder where our world might find itself if we don't learn to communicate one-on-one, face-to-face, like the pioneers used to do. Just a thought.

Which is it?

Do you remember a time when nouns were nouns and verbs were verbs? Let me give you an example of what I am talking about. When I was growing up, my school teachers would assign me homework from my "text" which meant my textbook (noun). However, if a teacher were to say "text" in our day, immediately a verb comes to mind. We hear things like: "Oh, I will text you later today" or "This weird person keeps texting me." In fact, I heard a joke, and no offense to you spanish speakers out there, but the basis of the joke was a spanish kid in an elementary classroom. He was asked to use an english word, Texas, in a sentence. The hispanic kid responds by saying "My best fren always texas me when I am busy." When did the word "text" become a verb? (In fact, Lyndsay was just watching the Ellen Degeneres (sp?) show on TV and there was a kid jumping on a pogo stick. Lyndsay said, "He just pumped up a basketball while he was pogo-sticking.") Not convinced? Try these on for size:

When taking pictures: "Oh, it's okay, we can just Photoshop that out."

When making copies: "Will you go xerox this?"

In the workplace: "Will you e-mail me the results?"

Right now: "What are you doing?" "Oh, just blogging."

Now, there may be some of you who read those sentences and thought: "Wait, what's wrong with them?" If you are confused, I would recommend that you either take an english class, or live in your ignorant bliss! (I would choose the latter of the two because it contains the word "bliss" and you won't have to do any homework!)

So, the truth of the matter is that I am right there with y'all in the usage of these nouns....verbs...whatever. The best part is that I am pretty sure, within the next couple of years, "texting" will be listed in the english dictionary as a verb. If that is the case, I want to start my own noun revolution! I want to start using the word "economics" as a verb. You know,

"Dude! You just got economicsed hard core!"

"Will you economics me when you are finished?"

"The other night, we economicsed! It was just about the best thing I have done in my life!"

I am pretty sure that some of those sound like I am saying something I am not (especially that last one! YIKES!), but the truth is, I am the one making the noun into a verb so it can mean anything I want! So, in the near future when you start hearing people use the word "economics"as a verb, you will know that I was the one that started it! And maybe you can be part of the revolution too! You know, "Will you give all you can give so that [my revolution] may advance? Some will live and some will die, will you stand up and take the chance?" That kind of stuff. (That was for you, Lyndsay.) :)

God bless the Germans and the French!!!!

So, I am pretty sure that the next time I see an individual who is truly German or truly French, I am going to hug them, uncomfortably, for several minutes! Why? you might ask. Well, it all comes down to the most important meal of the day, the one thing that gets me up every single morning instead of hitting snooze and falling back asleep, the reason I am able to do all my economics homework: BREAKFAST! I am not talking about cereal and milk (although that is one of my favorites), but I am referring to the kind of breakfast that warms you from the inside out. The one that is smothered in sugar!!! The kind that you wash down with orange juice! The kind that only Germans and French people could come up with! I am talking about German pancakes and french toast! Today was the first time that I had ever made a German pancake and I am pretty sure that the Celestial Kingdom will have German pancakes! HOLY SCHMOLY! They were so good. In fact, as you look at the pictures, I am sure that will be able to taste them! So, here is the recipe so you can enjoy the same yumminess I enjoyed!

3 eggs

1/2 cup milk

1/2 cup flour

2 Tablespoons butter

1/4 teaspoon salt

Bake in the stove at 420 for 20 minutes

THEN YOU ENJOY! I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!