If You Like It Then Slow Down Before Putting a Ring On It

This one's been a long time coming.

 I'm not trying to offend anybody or put them off from marriage or anything. I don't want anybody to think this is a bitter post at all. In fact, quite the opposite is true.  I think marriage is awesome and beautiful and wonderful and everybody should be doin' it eventually. But  the key word there is eventually.

I can't tell you how many of my friends I've seen get married/ engaged in the last year and a half since we left high school. I'll ballpark a dozen. And they're not all marrying each other or anything. I just have all these friends who are 18/19/20 getting married. I think it's awesome that they have found somebody who they love and with whom they wish to spend their whole lives. I think it's fantastic to see them so happy together, and even to see them be all gross and gushy (Sometimes. Seriously, calm that crap when I'm around. You're making me gag). But I just don't see the point in getting married so young. See, many of us didn't begin dating until we were 16, and probably didn't date seriously until we were at least 18. So that means you probably married the first or second person you ever really fell for. And so often they were only with their significant other for a little bit, usually 6-9 months before getting married. I can't even figure out all the cool things my phone can do in 9 months! I've had my phone a year and I'll still occasionally be like "Woah, my phone can do that? Dude that's AWESOME!" Or sometimes, I'll be like "Why can't my phone do this other thing I want it to do? What the heck? Jump on it developers." Any my phone has a freakin' instruction manual. You have no such luxury for your significant other. Chances are pretty good that even after a year, two years, or 5 years you will still be surprised by things that they do. Now obviously this can swing either way. You can find that they can do cool things like organize your contacts alphabetically or by importance make you breakfast in bed, have some interesting trait or story you didn't know, etc. But sometimes these attributes can rock marriages and could have been avoided had you dated them longer.

I'm not saying that this works for everything, or that dating for longer will alleviate all problems and your marriage will be perfect because you dated for a year or longer before you got married. I don't live in a fantasy world. Well, I do, but my passport into the real world is well stamped. All I'm saying is that rushing into marriage super young seems rather silly to me. It's like showing up to a party that starts at 10:00 promptly at 10:15. Then going in, looking around, and leaving the party at 11:00 before most people have even showed up.

You'll hear me rant and rave about dating. About how it's complex and girls are stupid and how I'm just gonna learn to reproduce asexually--yes like a flower-- but in some part of myself I actually like it. I like meeting girls and talking to them and learning what makes them different from other girls, from me, and from other people in general. I think it's an awesome prospect to be able to date a  variety of people and learn things about them-- good or bad-- and see if my things line up with them. So far, no luck with the whole things-lining-up part (not a euphemism or double entendre. Even though it's a fantastic one), but the best part is I'm still young. I'm someone who probably won't even show up to the party until 11:45. Because my invitation said 11:00 instead of 10:00 and there was something really cool on TV until 11:30. So then between the drive and getting ready, I'm a little late. But fashionably so.

So to all you married people, you're awesome. You really are. You're fantastic examples to me of what love is in its purist sense. You guys make me happy and excited to be married, but not just yet. I want to travel. I want to see the world, and make life decisions for myself and get happy with me before I drag somebody else into this tornado of crazy I call my psyche. Although I am currently accepting tornado tour applications. Ladies. 

A Case for the Average

Well, it's 1:30 and I kept tossing and turning which means that I was thinking. So instead of just lying in bed I thought I'd blog my thoughts and feelings, then edit them to make sense in the morning.

Anyway, this is kind of a continuation of a paper I wrote in high school about mediocrity, and why it's not so bad. Lately I've been feeling--you guessed it-- mediocre. Average. Lackluster. Nothing awful, but nothing special. Unabashedly and unapologetically right in the middle. But is that such a bad thing?

I put it to you that it's not. I mean, look at the world around us. For you math people, you study averages like crazy. Ever since third grade we've been finding mean, median, and mode. The unspectacular, average numbers of a series of numbers given to us. As we grow older we are taught to find outliers; these extraordinary numbers that we are supposed to look out for. I couldn't tell you what outliers are because, to be frank, math and I are not on speaking terms. I don't talk about it unless the circumstances dictate, and it does the same courtesy to me. Thus far, the air of professionalism has been appreciated by both sides. But I know that more often than not, we look for averages. We're looking for bunches, groups of things, and the spectacular become suddenly ordinary.

But those are just numbers, right? What about people? I'm the first to admit that I don't like grouping people and numbers together. As I said, I'm not a big math person. I'm a touchy-feely right-side-brained person. I think that assigning numbers to people alienates them and hurts their feelings and makes them worse and blah  blah blah. But I think that in this situation, a case can be made that the same rules apply, and here's why.

We live in a society of averages. We look to actors and astronauts and politicians and sports stars and crazy people to feed our curiosity. We live our boring, mediocre lives. We trudge through the mundane, dreading the boring, and seeking excitement in the unfamiliar. So we look to these human outliers-- exceptional people to spice up the boring day-to-day. But for the most part, 99% of us move through our lives never impacting another 99% of the population. We go unnoticed, and just sit in the middle.

Kinda depressing, right? Well, sure, I guess it certainly could be if you're a glass-half-empty kinda person. Me? I'm not too interested in how much is in the cup-- full empty or otherwise. I figure "hey, I've got this cup with stuff in it. Is it delicious? Is it nasty? If I throw it on somebody, could that be funny? If I freeze it and lick it, would it taste better? Is there a way to market that to any audience and make money?" And that's why I don't sleep at night and instead end up blogging.

Anyway, I think that if you want to be depressed because you're not special, go for it. But here's why you shouldn't be. Ordinary people are those number averages. People focus on them the most, because they comprise most of our human population. I mean, when's the last time you met a famous person? Were they awesome? Did they blow your mind with their self-actualization and wealth of life experience? Or did their breath smell because they didn't brush their teeth and had a bit too much coffee?

But average people, we meet them every day. We pass them on the way to work. We sell them clothes, flip their burgers, celebrate their birthdays, mourn their deaths, babysit their kids, enjoy moments, and makes memories with these Average Joes. All without the notice of 99% of the human population. I've never met a truly famous person, so props to whoever has, but when/if I do, I'm sure I'll tell my kids all about it. I'll show them pictures of me making a funny face next to their exceptionally handsome/beautiful faces, or tell them about how funny this one thing they said was. But you know what else I'll tell my kids? I'll tell them all about my grandparents, my parents, my friends. I'll show them pictures from my high school years, my college years. I'll tell them the story of how I met their mother, the stupid things I did with friends, the sad times, the fun times and the just plain weird times. And you know what? In two or three generations, I'll bet their grand kids won't care less what famous person I ever talked to. They probably won't care much about my high school years, or about my parents or grandparents. But the values that were instilled in me by these average people? They transfer generation to generation. They are branded into our DNA, in our upbringing and how we think.

That's the thing about being average. We as the average are just as essential, if not more so,  those spectacular people. Think of it as a clock: with hundreds of cogs and screws and wood parts and a winder. Most of us have the calling in life of being a cog, just a little piece of the machine. But some of us, a very few. have the lucky life calling of being the guy that gets to wind the clock. They're extraordinary. They make the clock work, right? Because without one of us cogs, the machine would probably be fine. We are replaceable. But without all of us, the winder has nothing to wind. Without many of us interacting together, helping each other, lifting each other up, bein' all average and junk, the winder is sitting there looking like an idiot putting a piece of metal in a non-functional clock. Suddenly, that spectacular dude is looking pretty dumb, right?

So you. Go follow your dreams. Be all awesome and change lives and fix the world and end hunger and stuff. But if you don't... if suddenly you find your world becoming unbearably average, just remember how special being average is. Remember that without us normal cogs, we've got a bunch of stupid clock winders.

All those special people can have their special lives. They can go out there and be voices, and have people look up to them. They can be idolized by millions, and have people hang on their every word. They shoot for the moon, because even if they miss they land among the stars. They jump from the stratosphere and fall to Earth at ungodly speeds. They fly airplanes and dream of great, lofty things. They invent jet packs and hover boards (still holding out for these, actually) and fly with the birds.

Me? I write a blog that 9 people read. I fear the unexamined life, and instead live the thoroughly-examined life. Both my feet stay on the ground, right where they belong. I smile and wave at people I don't know, and have good days and bad days. I tell stories that people laugh at, and laugh when people tell me stories. And you know what? I'm just fine being a cog. Because I'll sit here and work and go unnoticed than to wind a broken clock any day of the week.

If you're not moving forward...

Hello to all! I hope you all find yourselves well. I hope that you have come with minds open, because I'm about to drop some philo (what the kids are calling "philosophy" nowadays") right on your dome (what the kids are calling ones' "head") nowadays. You ready? Alright, here we go:

So, as many of you are aware, I'm in this really strange point in my life. And not just because I'm 19 and the world's my oyster and all that jazz, but because I have been put in an extremely unique position that I would dare anybody to find me another person in the history of the universe who has been in this position. Now, I realize this is a bold statement, but I say it with confidence. Because right now I am planning to donate my kidney to my brother.This procedure has only begun to become possible through modern science, probably in the past 40 or 50 years. I am also going to serve a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Ladder Day Saints. As many of you know, we as Mormons will typically serve missions when we're 19. Well, as of this month, men can now serve when they are 18, and women when they are 19. So now, as a 19 year old male, I am sitting around, waiting for a date on when I can get a major organ sucked out of my body and implanted into my brother, and had to postpone serving my mission to do so. Meanwhile, almost every male friend I have is now serving a mission, and now I am watching all my female friends begin the process to leave.

I mean, honestly, there may be 1 or 2 other people in the existence of time who have even had a situation comparable to mine. But this isn't a post about the expanse of the universe, the meaning of life, or any of that.

No, what this is about is a realization I have come to over the past week. And that's if you're not moving forward, you're moving backward. See, I've realized that life is a muscle. Life must be flexed, moved, strained, pushed, hardened, expanded, and used, in order for rest to be worth it. Otherwise, life becomes obese, extravagant, and begins the process of regression, like any muscle. For instance, you can work for years on the perfect body, but lose it in a matter of months if you stop utilizing those muscles that make it up. I've seen this in almost every aspect of my life.

The problem is that I have had very little to motivate me the past few months. I've lived in a state of limbo--of not knowing--for such a long time, that I began to regress in my habits. I wasn't acting like I was in college. I gained a year's worth of knowledge, wisdom, worldly awareness, habits, thought patterns, routines, and maturity (well...). Now, after sitting on my butt for 6 months, at home, doing little to nothing, I've moved backwards.

I can't say it's entirely my own fault. I mean, I'll take responsibility, but it's not. If I'd known that the process to get tested and scheduled for the kidney donation surgery, I would certainly have pursued another/better job. Right now I'm selling Cutco and setting my own schedule (which I've also slacked off on, to be honest...) and if I had known I would have sought out better employment. I could have earned 4 or 5 month's worth of minimum wage. Nothing to shake a stick at.

If I'd known how long this process would take, I would have done another semester at college. I wouldn't be sitting at home, twiddling my thumbs and wasting my time. I would have given it a shot to try and get tested out there, and to get myself ahead another semester. I would have met more people, gained more knowledge, and made another 6 month's worth of "mature responsible" (I'll use those words loosely) Tommy habits and routines.

But instead, I just sit around. I do what I can around the house. I surf the web for hours on end, stare at Facebook statuses and tweets I've read at least a dozen times, play video games, try to hang out with whoever isn't in school, maybe earn some money if I can, or if I feel like it. But most of the time, I lack the motivation. Because I haven't flexed my "responsibility" muscles for a while. So instead, I sit around and think. I ponder, and I get myself into trouble.

But I'm trying to get better. I'm trying to jump back into my good habits and routines. Fortunately, unlike working out, you don't tire quickly after a hiatus of not working out your good habits and routines.


So yeah! That's what I've been thinking about the past few days. I hope maybe this helps somebody. If not, well you'll be rewarded for reading all the way either way. Because if you like good music, you should listen to Cloud Cult. They have really good music, and I haven't stopped listening to them since I discovered them. They're kinda strange, but I like almost every song they make, and I hope you do too!

'Til next time, stay classy San Diego.

Boating!

I went boating today. If there's one thing you should know about me, it's that I LOVE boating. Like, lovelovelovelovelove it. I need to find adjectives in the dictionary. No, I need to be like Shakespeare and make up words to describe my love for it. Or just be like Shakespeare and write a hundred ambiguously gay sonnets about it. Something like that. Because I FREAKIN' LOVE BOATING.

And honestly, whoever doesn't like boating is probably like a serial child killer or something. Like, if you meet somebody who is even on the fence about boating, cut them out of your life and make sure you lock your doors man. Because something is seriously wrong with that person. Being out on the water, a soft mist sprinkling your face, the hot sun zenning you into bliss as yin and yang, heat and water, play their ongoing feud on the skin 9/10 times you're hoping will tan but it ends up just burning.

I've been able to boat about twice a year since we moved back to California. We go once with my uncle, who is incredibly fun to tube with and who I went with today, and once with my neighbors the Thackers, because they have a boat and we've been friends forever. :D



Anyway, I've gotten pretty good over the past few years with wakeboarding and such. I've learned to jump pretty well (just bunny hops, I can't jump the wake or anything.) Today while I was trying that I ate it HARD though, and got pretty bad whiplash. My neck's hurting pretty bad right now. But hey, it comes with the territory right?

However, my FAVORITE thing to do while boating (minus just enjoying the overall experience) is tubing, especially the way my uncle does it. He makes it so fun with how much he whips you around and bounces you and such. Plus it's one of those fears that I conquered because of a near-death experience associated with it (I'll put another post about it probably. Also I started another one the other night trying to catch you guys up on my summer thus far. It's a draft, so I'll finish it at some point.) Anyway, I'm really proud of myself every time I tube because it's me getting over that fear. It's one of those things that I let myself be proud of myself for. Which was a poorly constructed sentence but I'm blogging late at night again so SHUT UP.

Anyway, I just love boating. The only downside is that I lost my CTR ring. It ripped off the first time I was tubing. I've had it for like a year and a half, and it wasn't spinning much anymore because of beach sand and such. But I still miss it. It's seen a long year and a half. RIP CTR ring.

Anyway, when I get home I'll probably finish that other post about what I've been up to, and also that other one talking about my near death experience. Or maybe not. I dunno. 'Til then, stay classy San Diego.

It's much too late for me to come up with a title, much less a good one

It's 4:14 in the morning. I haven't been sleeping well at all the past several days. All the days are blurring together now, and I can't stop them from doing so. I'm trying to get on a more regular sleep schedule, so that I can fall asleep before 2 and wake up before noon. But it feels like the more I try, the less I'm able to fall asleep, and the more desire I have to sleep through alarms.

I think my insomnia might be coming back. For those who don't know, I had insomnia pretty bad from the time I was 12 'til I was 16. It was brought on by my hormones beginning to go crazy in the 7th grade, and then stopped in the 11th grade once my body had somewhat stabilized. While I had it, my sleep schedule was insane. I would fall asleep at 1 or 2 in the morning, and then wake up for seminary around 5:30. This resulted in crazy mood swings and depression a lot of the time. However, over the past two years I've been doing pretty well other than the occasion sleepless night that I've found most people have.

But for some reason, I think that it's coming back now. Probably because of stress, and all the changes that are happening (or, at least, supposed to be happening.) Lately I've just had no motivation to do anything. Nothing seems to make me genuinely excited anymore, either. I don't feel as close to friends I once felt close to, and those who I've begun to feel stronger towards are leaving on missions or are busy with their lives during the summer. I dunno. I guess lately I've just felt like I'm in a bit of a box. A box with one way glass, where I can look out, but people can't look in. It's not that I won't let people look in, heck I really WANT people to do so. It just feels like people don't want to. If I want to hang out with or see people, then I have to instigate it. I don't get invited to activities anymore. I don't get texted or called, heck I don't even get acknowledged much without some sort of instigation of contact on my part.

I've also been getting really pissed off at a lot of stupid stuff too. My car not working still/again. Myself, a lot of the time. Even stupid things like games and stuff. I started swearing again, something that I haven't done since freshman year of high school. And not even like under my breath and stuff. Like out loud, sometimes screamed if I'm alone. I'm trying to break this, but when it feels like I'm on such a short fuse because of lack of sleep I don't even notice until it's happened. I usually have so much more self control, but it just feels like lately I haven't had any. I haven't been able to control much of anything. Nothing I do, nothing people around me do, nothing that my life is doing.

People keep asking me when I'm putting my mission papers in. And each time I tell them something different. I have to, because the days pass too quickly and the problems I'm struggling with aren't resolved yet. I wish I could tell people a definite date. I wish that I could just stop struggling and figure everything out and go on a mission like all the rest of my friends are. I want to be able to do so. I've always wanted to go on a mission, ever since I was in primary and I sang I hope they call me on a mission. I always knew that I wanted to serve the Lord. But since I was 11 I struggled with church. I never built my testimony and now that I'm trying it feels like all the factors are working against me. I'm losing hope fast and honestly I don't have the mental will to really try anymore.

I know I promised I wouldn't have any more blog posts like this. I know that I said that my blog would be used to uplift people and all that. But I want to keep people updated on my life too. And right now, this is my life. Extended periods of boredom, sleepless nights, and efforts on my part that aren't panning out in the least. All these plans that I'm trying to lay aren't finding any ground to root into. So I spend a lot of my time alone and thinking, and I guess that results in blog posts and even worse things. This isn't a spot I like or even want to be in. I gotta get out of this funk somehow.

Today was a strange day

Today I woke up and did what I had planned to do. I went to the beach with two of my best friends, Robert and Nick. The drive down was uneventful-- traffic aside-- and I had the opportunity to do something I love, enjoy the beach. Today was an almost perfect beach day. It was sunny and warm, almost 70 degrees according to my phone. The clouds were sparse and the sun was plentiful (as I type this, I wince in pain if my pink back touches anything but air, despite the three layers of coppertone I put on). The water, as is typical, was quite cold, which meant I only stuck my feet in. This lead to me mostly sitting around on the towel and trying to get a few shades darker (or at least redder). As I lay down, I busted out my new smart phone, and was glad to see that I had 4G LTE, supposedly the fastest internet service available. "Man, they really pull out all the stops at the beach, don't they?" I said to myself, ironically thinking of how dirty Santa Monica beach can be, but with such a nice locale who can argue, right?

So anyway, as I surf the internet using the fastest wireless a cell phone company can offer, I of course opened my Facebook account. I have this strange habit where I just skim Facebook to see if anything interesting has happened in the world of approximately 500 people that I claimed to at one point care about enough to add them as friends, and beg them to tell me what they had for lunch and when they get engaged. This has led to many posts about things I don't find particularly interesting, but I try to skim their lives briefly anyway, just to keep in touch as best I can (I promise most of you, I do my best.) As I was skimming through posts, I read one from a parent who I could see instantly was distressed greatly. She announced with a brief post that her son Johnny had died and that prayers for she and her family would be greatly appreciated. Of course, as a person of faith and as a human being this plead instantly tugged at my heart strings, but was increased tenfold as I glanced up to the blue name sitting above the brief but unsettling status update.

Bekki Gilmore DelVecchio.

My sister's baby of 5 months passed away today. A member of my family passed away today. My nephew had passed away today. My nephew who I had never met had passed away today. My heart instantly went out to my sister, her husband, and her 4 children who had just lost their little brother. I did not know what to do. As the day progressed, I tried to enjoy the beach the rest of the day, but I had a heavy weight on my mind. I worried for my sister, for my family, and for the future. I knew that they were in tough economic circumstances. They had recently moved back to Missouri. I had the opportunity to see them in November, but Bekki was still pregnant then. (I had to think hard about whether or not I had met my nephew prior to his passing, as this encounter was my neice Bella's birthday and there were little kids running around everywhere.) I had not had the opportunity to be a part of this little youngster's life.

At a time like this, many turn to faith, myself included. Growing up LDS, I know that this baby is safe. I know that he will live forever with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, and that already he is doing work for his family and our Heavenly Father. I am thankful for this knowledge. I'm thankful for the knowledge and comfort that this brings to me. I'm thankful that God has a plan. And, to be totally honest, I'm thankful that I have no idea what it is. I think if I understood how complicated the world was that I'd be a stuck up know-it-all (literally) and that I would serve no purpose to anybody. And even if I wasn't, I feel as though somehow I'd still go out of my way to be out of the loop and have no idea what I was doing.

As I was writing this post, I went to my sister's Facebook page. I was scrolling through her informational posts about his passing and I was heartbroken to see his beautiful face. His eyes were large, like his sister Bella. They were the kind of cute and innocent baby eyes that instantly strike you, as if he's taking in as much of the world as he could. It's a comfort to know that he got to take in a little extra of the world, despite his brief respite here on earth. I can only imagine the good that he is already doing and the good that he will do in the next life.

As I scan her Facebook page, I can see post after post of friends and family sending comfort, and can feel the love in their posts. It is striking how people rally around others in times of sorrow such as this. It doesn't matter who belongs to what church, who you voted for in the last election, or what offenses may have been set against who in the past. Because now, we're all human beings. Compassionate meat sacks rallying around somebody who we love and care for, with prayers and a faith in God that all is well and on his time. It's a strange thing, how death brings the living closer together. And maybe that's just a bit of God's plan. I haven't had the opportunity to see these niece's and nephews, the distance has always made this difficult. My oldest niece Nevaeh (Heaven spelled backwards. It's given a whole new meaning given recent events) is 8 years old and I've only had the opportunity to visit with her probably 6 or 7 times in her entire lifetime. However, I get to take a trip out to see her for Johnny's funeral, along with my Dad. This may be the first time I get to see all of my older siblings together, with all of their kids.

This is the first time I've ever dealt with the death of a family member. Although I never spoke to or even met Johnny, it still hits home that there was a death in my family. It seems strange, losing somebody who I never met but who I feel so much pain in losing. I cannot imagine what it's like to lose a child, but my heart and my prayers go out out to my sister. I cannot wait to see her and her family, or the rest of my siblings. The siblings who I haven't lived with for longer than a year's time. The siblings who seem to always argue over something, even as adults. The siblings who I know have a lot of love for each other. The siblings who I have a lot of love, respect, and admiration for despite their flaws. Because I see them working to improve themselves every day despite past mistakes. I have never been extremely close to them for very long. We still talk every now and then, but not nearly often enough. And that's the lesson that I'm taking from this: that life is short, and life is precious, and that we only have one shot at it. Cliched though it is, it's true, and it's anchored into my heart thanks to Johnny.


RIP Johnny Jay DelVecchio. I'll see you in heaven little guy.

A Post. A REALLY long post.

I realized lately that I have... abused this blog a bit. I've realized that I've used it to vent, and complain, and whine and cry and piss and moan. I've used it at times when I was feeling emotional, namely sad, to vent feelings that were momentary and fleeting. I have been abusing this blog. 


So, to say sorry to my blog, and those of you who have taken time out of your day for whatever reason to read it, I'm going to make a promise and begin something a little different. I'm gonna use this blog to uplift people. Hey, that's kinda what I like to do right? Fortunately it only took me 15 blog posts to realize it. 


So here's my first one. I'm going to try to make it fun, and light, and maybe make you feel good. Because right now, and for 95% of my life, I feel good. Sometimes even great. So why should I focus on the other 5% of moments, where the smiles and laughter turn into frowns, occasional tears, and more often than not a carton of cookie dough, or other such guilty pleasures. 


I've challenged myself lately. I've been trying to pray and read my scriptures every day. Morning and night. Something that I realized as I was praying was the fact that I was asking a lot of God. I was asking him to protect me, asking him to forgive me, asking him to help me with A B and C, asking him to watch over my family, asking him for help with tests, friends, and everything else. These were very personal and intimate, but I found that the start of my prayers, where I tried to thank him, felt generic. So I've tried something a little different lately. I've tried to thank him for everything. Things that seem trivial. But I read a quote lately that made me think. "What if you woke up tomorrow with only the things that you thanked God for the night before?" or something like that. Now I hate to get too preachy or whatever in these posts because I don't claim to be perfect, and I know that some of you reading don't even believe in God. But I've found that if I pray and I thank God for everything, even stupid trivial stuff, or small moments where I felt his influence, or times in the past that come to memory, that my prayer feels much more personal. 


So I'm going to challenge myself to do that now, at the close of the semester. Which I'm sure will result in tears, but fortunately you're reading this so you can't hear/see me ugly crying. So here it goes:


I'm thankful for my family, first and foremost. My Mother for being an anchor at all times. For always knowing what to say and what not to say. For always seeming like she (you, if you're reading this) had everything figured out, even in times when it seemed impossible. For reminding me that it's okay to have no idea what's going on. For never flipping out. For respecting me enough to let me make mistakes. For loving me enough to make suggestions on how not to. For caring enough to hear about my stupid problems, and for reminding me that God and you are always there for me, even when I don't think either are. 


I'm thankful for my Dad. Who taught me to own up to my mistakes. He has taught me that we are all human and because of that we are allowed to make mistakes. However, the more important lesson that he taught me is to accept the responsibility associated with those actions: their consequences. Good, bad or in between, these consequences can and must change us. He taught me to be mentally tough in times when it seemed inevitable to break down. He taught me to respect women and everybody else just the same. He taught me that it's okay to be mad at people. He taught me that it was more important to say "I'm sorry" every now and then. What I'm most grateful for though is that I got my Dad's sense of humor. Some call me sick. Some say "Wow, you Tommy'd it" (Meaning that I crossed some kind of line. Which I always argue that I have not.) But everybody around me says I'm funny. And personally, I think my Dad is one of the funniest people I know. My Dad, at 50, has gotten older but never grown up. He still knows how to have a good time. He reminds me that even when things get bad, we can choose to get mad or we can laugh at them. While he still struggles to not get mad sometimes, he has shown me that it's better to laugh. Because when we laugh at bad situations, they tend to get easier. I like to follow this philosophy as often as possible. So thank you, Dad, for giving me your funny. For letting me entertain others with your lame jokes, your strange or sick attitude on things, and for helping me learn to be quick witted and sharp tongued.


I don't feel like I can go through each of my siblings, so I'll just group you guys together (sorry, but when there's 6 of you, it's kind of hard). You guys are so awesome. All those times we share together are fun. I rarely find myself ever arguing with you guys, and even when I do I feel it gets resolved far more quickly than most other families. Maybe distance makes us wiser, but I miss you guys a lot when we're not together. I pray for you guys all the time. I'm thankful for those times we can share, rare as they are. I'm thankful that I may get the chance to give Trent a kidney, and prolong and improve his life. I, oddly enough, pray that I will be a match and that I can give him my kidney. Because I think that this is what I'm supposed to do. Because I'm not freaked out by it. I never was. I never hesitated, not even for a moment, because I love him. And I'm thankful for this courage, because usually crap like that freaks me out. So thank you, all of you, for being who you are. For those little moments that I have memories of where we had fun. For those small life lessons taught through words or deeds, laughs or mistakes, that have stuck with me.


(Again, I don't have time for all of you. Not yet, anyway. Probably before my mission you'll all get personal letters, but for now, here's a group lump for the year.) I'm thankful for my Cedar City family. For the people who have come into my life and broken down walls. For those moments, planned or spontaneous, that stick in my memory with the intensity of a fire. I remember the small variations from the monotony the best, not even the big moments. Those moments where we went to the store in between classes, those spontaneous passings in the halls that resulted in conversations, which in turn resulted in one or both of us being late to class. Those neat little talks where we stayed up just a little too late, and our walls came down. I'm thankful that you guys put up with me when I'm in one of my moods, where I'm just a little "much". Believe me, I KNOW that it happens. But I'm glad you guys are patient and take them as what they are, fleeting moments and stupid or inappropriate jokes. Thank you everybody for taking me in, and making me a part of a family. You know, they say that friends are the family you get to choose. Well, I don't think I chose you guys. I think-- no, I know-- that God put us all together, brief as it's been, for a reason. He chose our Cedar family, and we just went right along with it. And remember, even if I am 500 miles away, it's a phone call, text, or skype call away. And you guys know I don't sleep, so just get in contact. And plus I'll kill you if you don't. There, that was to help those of you who were crying. Pansies.


And my Lancaster friends. Don't think that I've forgotten about you. No such luck, you wonderful group of people. You guys got to see four of the worst years of my life, and yet somehow you stuck with me for 1-4 years anyway. You guys probably saw me change the most that I ever have in my entirely life. There was so much physical, emotional, spiritual, and academic growth that you guys got to witness that I'm honestly surprised you stuck with my as long as you guys did. But I'm oh SO thankful that you did. I'm glad for those little Skype dates we've taken time out of our days to include. I'm glad for brief text conversations. I'm glad for all those times that we had in high school that I still remember with the same intensity I listed earlier. I'm glad for pranks pulled, laughs had, tears shared, stupid things done together, and most of all for four years that were only made survivable thanks to you guys. So thank you. Know that no matter how much you touched my life no matter how briefly.


Now to acquaintances. I know there are a few of you who read this blog. Thank you. For whatever reason, you just spent 10 minutes (maybe more, if you're still in speed reading for dummies volume uno like I am) reading crap about which you have no i-frickin'-dea about. Thanks for taking time to read about me. Thanks for moments shared, brief though they've been, where we've felt a bond through words. Thanks for fleeting waves, smiles, or even awkward "hello's" in passing. Thank you for taking time out of your day to connect your soul to mine, despite the looseness of the connection. I only hope that you take this as an invitation to grow closer. Seriously, just message me on Facebook or text me or something. Better yet say hi in person. I can be FAR more entertaining in person. Let me help you laugh. Let me help you smile. Let me say "hello" and make it not feel awkward. No matter your objective, know that I'm always open to new friends, and that I love you. It sounds weird, but I do. 


I'm thankful for my future wife. I don't know who you are, who you are, or even if you'll ever read this. I hope not, because there's probably more grammar errors in here than a Russian Kindergartener Yoda's first English sentence. But I've been promised in my patriarchal blessing that you are out there, and that you are special. And I know you are, because I'm coming to realize that I'm pretty freaking special too. So thank you, wherever you are, whoever you are, for being you. For being somebody who is not perfect, but perfect for me. For withstanding whatever tough things you face because some day we'll laugh at them. Some day we'll lie next to each other, sharing secrets we've told nobody. Thank you for those long talks we'll soon have. Thank you for laughing at my lame jokes, even when we both know that they're stupid. Thank you for standing up for what you know is right in times when it seems hard. Thank you for being who you are, and inspiring those around you with your words and actions. Thank you for being patient, understanding, kind to all, nonjudgemental, funny, fun and way out of my league. Thank you for not being the girl of my dreams, but better than her. And most of all, thank you for (whatever reason) saying yes. I hope that I can live up to your expectations, maybe even exceed them every now and then.


Last but not least, I'm thankful for circumstances granted me by a divine creator. I'm thankful for the family I was predestined into. I'm thankful for being born into the Church of Jesus Christ of Ladder Day Saints. I'm thankful for the choice I have to serve a mission for this church. Because this church has brought a lot of clarity and happiness into my life. I'm still working out its finer details and gaining a testimony, but I'm thankful even for that. I'm thankful for a strong (well...) working body. I'm thankful for a strong (well...) working mind. I'm thankful for my quirks. Those little things that make things go "Oh, that's just Tommy, don't worry about it.." (and believe you me, there's a LOT of them). I'm thankful for being born in a land where I have freedom. I'm thankful I was born into a family that allows me to use that freedom. That always reminds me of how much potential I have, and to never settle for that. I'm thankful that they have allowed me to be whatever I want to be in my life. I'm thankful to God for giving me a bright future, and the knowledge of it. I'm thankful I'm born in a place that allows me to freely gain an education, a nice home, and a chance to live comfortably. For a land where I can not only survive, but where I can enjoy life. I'm thankful for those moments when I'm not. Because those small, brief moments make those moments when I am so much sweeter. We can't know how sweet lemonade is until we forget to put in the sugar one time. Hey, that's a good analogy. What am I, smart?


Most of all, I'm thankful to you. Yeah, you. You just read a giant thank you list in which you were maybe glanced at once. You took time out of your day to read this wall that I call a blog. You've encouraged me to write my feelings, and to use my words to connect our souls. I hope that you have felt me in these words. I hope you feel closer to me because of them. I am thankful for whatever circumstances have brought you here. 




Thanks for reading. Stay classy, friends. Remember who you are, what you stand for, where you come from, and what you have inside of you. Remember that YOU are special. Remember that you have been placed here for a purpose. It may be grand-- to be the President, or a great movie maker, or even a Broadway actor. Or it may be for a purpose that seems so small, but just as important. Maybe you're here to touch lives. Maybe you're here to touch one life-- but to touch it so deeply that its influence is felt for generations. Maybe you're here to save a life, or preserve them as your job. Maybe you'll be a doctor, a lawyer, a teacher, or just an entertainer. But remember that we are all connected. That there are invisible strings that connect us, soul to soul, that cannot be severed. So don't make these strings poison. Don't weigh people down with your string. Uplift their soul when you tie yours to them. And remember, most of all, that you are important. That you are loved, and that you have the power to change lives. You have the power to influence people for good, or for bad. That those little traits that you have that set you apart are there as tools. So use them to bless those around you.