Sunday Crosswords are too Hard

So I just got back from California last night. Or this morning. According to the nav system, the total car ride took 4 hours on the dot with an average speed of 78.1 mph and a top speed of 110. In case anyone was wondering.
I went to Pasadena to drive my mom to a wedding. While I was there I walked around a lot. There are a ton of cool things to see there. For example. I found the best thing ever.
Yeah, that's right. It's called Leninade. For those who know me, I love puns, and I love Communism. In fact, they're probably my two favorite things. Anyway, some of the quotes on the bottle are "Get Hammered and Sickled," and "Drink Comrade, Or It's Off to the Gulag!"
I found it after a night of walking through the streets of Pasadena after 11. First thing about Pasadena, you have to be 21 to go into any establishment that serves alcohol after 11. I didn't know this. And I was still curious to see the sights of Pasadena, so I kept walking around. I found a soda shop and found this. I kept on looking around just hoping I could share the moment with someone, but, alas, it was just me and the guy running the store.
After the soda store I went to Barnes and Noble and drank my delicious soda while reading a Jack Handey book. It was pretty funny. Then they kicked me out at 12. I kept on walking around a little bit. There were lots of clubs and ever more crazy people walking around. Plus, there were lots of street performers.
Anyway, it was a pretty good night.

Good Vibrations

Well, I got back from San Diego today. It's been a while since I've last posted because I have been in California for my brother's wedding for a week. It was pretty nice, I got my own double bed, room, and bathroom. Pictures are coming soon.
Anyway, its been a pretty busy week. I have been through the temple three times last week. I've done my own endowments, initiations, and I attended David's sealing. It has been an amazing week.
I also got my first manicure last week for the wedding. After all, I was the best man. I deserved to look pretty. It was actually pretty nice. Im going to get a pedicure with Julie when I get back in Provo.
So, I have to go to my brother's open house this next week. That will be fun. And Im doing an all day babysitting job for my sister on friday. Double fun.

I'm going to find the guy who installed our air conditioning unit and kill him...

I don't know. I think the title pretty much says it all. Today I put in about 4 and 1/2 hours into fixing a stupid mistake made by some stupid handyman who did a stupid job installing tracks for air filters. It's a long, not really funny rant. You can skip to the end if you want.
When we first moved into our new house, the first thing my mom did was have me change the furnace filters. This has been a constant theme in the Clyde household since my sister (and everyone else for that matter) have pretty bad allergies. So I take a few minutes to look over the first air conditioning unit, and I noticed that the depth dimension is too short (normally air filters are 1 inch deep. This one was about 3/4). It didn't really matter though, as long as the width and length were okay, I could still maneuver it in.
So I make it to the next air conditioning unit (you need two for a house our size in Arizona). Anyway, I tugged out the old filters, and they were black and shredded. I'm pretty sure they were shredded before hand when the person who last put the filters in forced them in. I'm pretty sure the filters were black because the person who changed them never wanted to do it again. The reason why is because the bimbo (yeah, that's right, bimbo) who installed it messed up the depth and width dimensions.
Today I had to take snippers and cut away the thick sheet metal, and then take a grinder and grind away all of the jagged edges so nobody gets tetanus by cutting themselves. After doing that and buying new eco-friendly air filters, I found out that this guy had installed a track that goes all the way down. This track made it impossible to put in the new filters.

Anyway. Thanks, idiot.

On a lighter note, I heard this song on random on my iPod. After listening to it when I'm not in sixth grade, I started to like it a whole lot more.



The song is using a metaphor in this line: "Me and Cinderella, We put it all together, We can drive it home, With one headlight." I think what it is trying to say is that it is possible for two people who have been emotionally/psychologically to find some middle ground and actually support each other. It isn't perfect, but like a car with one headlight, it will at least get them home.
This made me wonder. Is this actually possible, is it just romantic dreaming? Sure, one psychologically damaged person may be able to help the other when one is having a bad day, but could they both pull it together when they are both having bad days? I don't know. Maybe. Sorry, I don't like pensive posts anymore than you do.

Since I've Been Home

Well, I'm home. My first night sleeping in my own bed was pretty weird. I woke up and just sat around wondering where I was. My bed at BYU was actually more comfortable than the one I am sleeping in now. It's pretty weird how we get used to things after a while. I mean, my bed at home is much more expensive and comfortable, but it just doesn't feel the same.

I started unpacking too. The DI pile just keeps on growing. I don't know what I did with all this crap last year. Anyway, I'm throwing a lot of it out. I figure that if I unpack a few things everyday I'll be done by next year.

Also, everything seems to break while I'm gone. Two different toilets broke. And one thing everyone should know. Toilets are really easy to fix. Don't hire a plummer. Take it apart yourself. Or read something then take it apart yourself. What's the worst that can happen?

I miss my BYU friends. Really badly. I miss listening to Hunter's weird night talking. I miss Joey's poorly thought out but ultimately rude actions. I miss being a racist to Jordan. I miss Julie and pointing out how badly she wants me. (She really does).

Oh, I started a new short story! Maybe Ill post that soon.

Getting Back into the Swing of Things

Well... not yet. Here's a cool video for you though.

At Least Schizophrenics Aren't Lonely

One thing that I have really enjoyed about getting off sleep-aids is all of the reading I have been able to get done! Two weeks ago I had four books on my nightstand (since I don't actually have a nightstand, they rest on my keyboard at the foot of my bed). Today, I have one book and that's not counting D&C which is a sleep-aid in and of itself. So, scratch Preparation Precedes Power, Eats, Shoots and Leaves, and The Best American Short Stories 2005 off my to read list. Right now I'm working on Flash Fiction Forward. It is fantastic. First off, check out this wicked cool cover.
Anyway, last night I read a few stories before I finally fell asleep. One of them was a story called "The Voices in My Head" by Jack Handey. You know, Jack Handey the guy who did Deep Thoughts on SNL? Anyway, it's a clever story that talks about the voices in our heads that get us to do things. It sounds ludicrous at first. I mean, come on. Is this guy really trying to tell us that we are all schizophrenics? But, read it and look into it a bit more. Don't we have those voices in our heads that tell us that we need to get our umbrella because it might rain even though the forecast says we're still in a three year drought? There are a few lines in it that I'd like to quote that I feel have some poignant application to my own life.

"Even worse, sometimes the voices themselves don't know what they want. They'll tell me to go up and talk to a pretty woman, then they'll say, 'No, wait, she's too pretty for you,' then they'll say, 'Oh, go ahead'... (Man, make up your mind!)"

I bet every guy has had that voice go through his head.

Or maybe I'm every guy

See ya later hot potater,
Tom

You can forget all your troubles, forget all your worries and go...

Last weekend was a bust. I tried really hard to get out of my dorm, but come Saturday night, I still had nothing to show for my weekend. So I gave up trying to get people together and got my camera and headed to down town Provo in search of an adventure.
My initial idea was that I was going to see if Provo had any cool alleyways. I mean, if you're going to find an adventure, you're bound to find one in an alleyway right? I know what you're thinking--I wasn't looking for that kind of adventure. But the problem with Provo is that all of their alleyways are clean. I'm talking about hedges, lights, and concrete paths. How am I supposed to find something cool with everything so clean? I mean, there aren't even any good rubbish piles that someone could have dumped a dead body! This was probably the most dubious alleyway I found.


Okay, so plan A didn't work out so well. No problem. I just kept walking. I figured that I'm still bound to find something interesting. I pass the courthouse where a bunch of kids who must have just gotten back from prom were hanging out. This struck me as odd. I mean, why would they just get out of their limo and sit down on the well lighted steps of the Provo courthouse? What ever happened to finding a dark alleyway to make out in? Oh, right, there aren't any dark alleyways in Provo. But seriously, a courthouse?
Once I got to the end of downtown, I double backed and walked into the Muse Cafe. This is the Muse Cafe.


I sat here for a few minutes looking at all of the pictures I'd taken of my escapade while sipping a really good cup of hot chocolate. This is a pretty cool picture. I liked it anyway.


I got another one and went outside and gave it to a hobo who was sitting in front of what I believe is the only non-LDS church in Provo. He is a nice guy, his name is Pat Guster. He honestly looked just like Willy Nelson. He says that he was sitting on the church steps so he could get a really good seat tomorrow.
After that, I kept on my way back to BYU. I stopped by this Chinese food place that sold me the stuff they were about to throw out for the day for 3 bucks. I should have taken that hint, but I was hungry. Actually, now that I think about it, there were a lot of hints. For instance, when I asked what was good there the guy said, "Well, the orange chicken is pretty good." "Pretty good?" That's where I should have just said no thank you. All of the food tasted the same though, but it did not sit well with me.

Provo must have been founded before fun was invented

Hugs and Kisses,
Tom

New Blog Post Coming Soon

Well, I started a blog tonight, but I haven't really had time to proof it or even see if I like it. Keep posted. Until then, watch this music video. It's pretty mad cool.



-Tom

Girls Ruin All My Favorite Things

Girls ruin all my favorite things. Okay, maybe not my favorite things, and maybe not all of them, but every girl I have ever really liked has some memory attached to her. Most of my memories have some sort of memento tagged to them. These mementos can be anything that I loved at the time: a song, t-shirt, movie, or even a smell. Whenever I hear that song or smell that smell my mind usually wanders to the memory that I most associate with the memento, and the memory has a tendency of making my toes curl. I know that it isn't any fault of the individual girl. I'm just sick of my favorite things being ruined.
The earliest example I can think of would have to be Extra Chewing Gum. My first girlfriend was chewing that the first time I ever kissed her. Now, I can't even see an Extra wrapper without thinking about her, and when I think about her I start thinking about all the things that I couldn't stand about her. For example, she would dance to ring tones. I know, it isn't a big deal. Who doesn't occasionally dance to a good ring tone? But she danced to every ring tone. It didn't even matter what was playing: elevator music, mexican hat dance, whatever. It drove me nuts!
Okay, next thing that was ruined by a girl. My favorite t-shirt. I bought one t-shirt off of threadless.com. Everyone who pays any attention to what I wear knows that I love threadless. I know, not a whole lot of people pay attention to what I wear.
Except this guy.

And this guy.

Anyway, it was my favorite t-shirt until I stopped liking this one girl. After that, I couldn't get the smell of her perfume out of my shirt. Everyone else couldn't smell it. It was just me. It bugged me so much that I had to throw it away.

So this was a bit of a ramble.

I guess what I'm trying to say is this. Girls, stop ruining things for me.

But don't stop dating me.

Tom Clyde

This was the T-shirt. Isn't it awesome?

the things he had saved to write

Well, here it is. My first blog post. I'll admit right now, there is nothing special about it. If anyone is curious, I just got super jealous when I saw that Julie had a blog and I didn't. But hey, I like writing and I love attention, so I should like having a blog. Plus, I consider myself an amateur writer, and I would like to get some experience and some feedback about me and what I'm writing about. I also haven't been writing too much for school this semester, and I haven't thought of anything good to write about for my personal creative writing so I figured this is a good way to keep my skills sharp.
Anyway, I hope you stick around and maybe find what I have to say at least slightly interesting.

Tom Clyde