Today I asked my best friend to marry me.
And she said yes.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Pirate church.
I went to Anne's ward today. It had a pirate theme.
When we arrived, we were greeted by a gentleman with an eyepatch. The real-deal black eyepatch. He knew Anne, but introduced himself to me (I think his name was Smee, but I'm a little fuzzy on that). He then made some comment about how he'd been keeping an eye out for her. That was almost too much—there were guts exploding out of my back as I resisted the one-eye joke. Oh man.
The speakers were a couple who had just returnde from their mission. That meant that they had a whole crew of family in the congregation—several rows' worth—including a autistic grandson. This grandson was apparently on board (get it?) with the whole pirate theme, because he kept shouting "ahoy!" every few minutes during Sacrament Meeting. It was awesome.
There were a few more cool things about that meeting, though they depart from the theme. There was a musical number by a lady named Ans (pronounced "ahns"... like Hans without the H). Her husband? Frans. Ans and Frans. I was pumped.
Anyway, the musical number was scheduled for after the couple had spoken, but before the final speaker (high council). The musical number had already been announced, but by the time the couple had finished speaking the meeting had already run over. Unsure of whether she was still on, Ans called from the back of the chapel: "DO YOU STILL WANT ME?" They did, and she did her song. But I don't think I've ever heard anybody shout from the congregation like that.
All in all, it was a great meeting. I'm gonna go again.
When we arrived, we were greeted by a gentleman with an eyepatch. The real-deal black eyepatch. He knew Anne, but introduced himself to me (I think his name was Smee, but I'm a little fuzzy on that). He then made some comment about how he'd been keeping an eye out for her. That was almost too much—there were guts exploding out of my back as I resisted the one-eye joke. Oh man.
The speakers were a couple who had just returnde from their mission. That meant that they had a whole crew of family in the congregation—several rows' worth—including a autistic grandson. This grandson was apparently on board (get it?) with the whole pirate theme, because he kept shouting "ahoy!" every few minutes during Sacrament Meeting. It was awesome.
There were a few more cool things about that meeting, though they depart from the theme. There was a musical number by a lady named Ans (pronounced "ahns"... like Hans without the H). Her husband? Frans. Ans and Frans. I was pumped.
Anyway, the musical number was scheduled for after the couple had spoken, but before the final speaker (high council). The musical number had already been announced, but by the time the couple had finished speaking the meeting had already run over. Unsure of whether she was still on, Ans called from the back of the chapel: "DO YOU STILL WANT ME?" They did, and she did her song. But I don't think I've ever heard anybody shout from the congregation like that.
All in all, it was a great meeting. I'm gonna go again.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Kinko's, a surprise friend, and me.
I went to Kinko's last night, around 1:30 AM.
I prefer going to Kinko's in the middle of the night—you don't have to wait for your stuff, the person behind the counter is willing to help, and sometimes they let you use the saddle-stitch stapler yourself. On this particular visit I had some portfolios cut, and went to find some counter space to settle down with said stapler. I assumed I was, as usual, alone in the store. If I was, it wouldn't be making an interesting story now.
This Kinko's had a somewhat different layout than other locations I'd been to. The counter, featuring friendly sales representatives, is on the left when you walk in. To the right are the self-service printers and copiers, and then around a corner, out sight of the staff members, is a bank of desks for plugging in laptops. And at the last desk I found my friend. A hobo, sleeping.
It was actually a female hobo (hoba). She had her head down on the desk and seemed to be sound asleep. She stood a good chance of not being discovered, because (a) she was quiet, and (b) the staff people probably didn't have any reason to go looking back there. Kinko's was probably a pretty good place to spend the night—it was a pleasant temperature, and soft music was playing. I actually enjoyed that this particularly hobo had found such a good, clean place... it's nice to see a hobo who takes pride in their work (hobo pride = hobris).
I didn't turn her in or anything. The last thing you want is to be blacklisted with the hobo community.
(gratuitous hobo picture)
I prefer going to Kinko's in the middle of the night—you don't have to wait for your stuff, the person behind the counter is willing to help, and sometimes they let you use the saddle-stitch stapler yourself. On this particular visit I had some portfolios cut, and went to find some counter space to settle down with said stapler. I assumed I was, as usual, alone in the store. If I was, it wouldn't be making an interesting story now.
This Kinko's had a somewhat different layout than other locations I'd been to. The counter, featuring friendly sales representatives, is on the left when you walk in. To the right are the self-service printers and copiers, and then around a corner, out sight of the staff members, is a bank of desks for plugging in laptops. And at the last desk I found my friend. A hobo, sleeping.
It was actually a female hobo (hoba). She had her head down on the desk and seemed to be sound asleep. She stood a good chance of not being discovered, because (a) she was quiet, and (b) the staff people probably didn't have any reason to go looking back there. Kinko's was probably a pretty good place to spend the night—it was a pleasant temperature, and soft music was playing. I actually enjoyed that this particularly hobo had found such a good, clean place... it's nice to see a hobo who takes pride in their work (hobo pride = hobris).
I didn't turn her in or anything. The last thing you want is to be blacklisted with the hobo community.
(gratuitous hobo picture)
Monday, August 13, 2007
I'm just crazy, really.
People who have lost a limb often have phantom sensations that the limb is still there and attached to the body. It happens a lot more than you might expect—50% to 80% of amputees report it—and it is generally said to be painful.
Beyond just pain, though, is the concept of having an actual phantom limb. Some people report that their phantom limb makes gestures as they talk. Particularly compelling is this example, which shows that the phantom feelings are not abstract physiological white noise, but rather specific and concrete:
What happens is that the brain reorganizes when it finds that sensory input is cut off from that limb. The somatosensory cortex, which receives the data, will instead start taking data from another area of the body—thus the brain doesn't figure out that the limb is gone, because it starts to again receive sensory data indicating that all is well.
And sometimes when I don't have my phone with me I still feel it vibrating in my pocket.
Beyond just pain, though, is the concept of having an actual phantom limb. Some people report that their phantom limb makes gestures as they talk. Particularly compelling is this example, which shows that the phantom feelings are not abstract physiological white noise, but rather specific and concrete:
I placed a coffee cup in front of John and asked him to grab it [with his phantom limb]. Just as he said he was reaching out, I yanked the cup away.They used to think that the sensation was caused by something in the nerve endings where the limb was supposed to be, so they'd try amputating a little bit more of the stump. This only complicated the problem, though—people afterward would not only continue to have the phantom limb sensation, but would also experience phantom feelings of the stump that was also now gone.
"Ow!" he yelled. "Don't do that!"
"What's the matter?"
"Don't do that", he repeated. "I had just got my fingers around the cup handle when you pulled it. That really hurts!"
Hold on a minute. I wrench a real cup from phantom fingers and the person yells, ouch! The fingers were illusory, but the pain was real - indeed, so intense that I dared not repeat the experiment.
What happens is that the brain reorganizes when it finds that sensory input is cut off from that limb. The somatosensory cortex, which receives the data, will instead start taking data from another area of the body—thus the brain doesn't figure out that the limb is gone, because it starts to again receive sensory data indicating that all is well.
And sometimes when I don't have my phone with me I still feel it vibrating in my pocket.
Monday, August 06, 2007
A Positive Consumer Experience.
Every once in a while I have a Positive Consumer Experience. And I like to share them because I like to reward the company for being awesome.
Today's winner is the online ordering from Old Navy. I've always liked Old Navy, but this was my first time ordering online. I did so because I was getting a pair of shoes, and most of their physical locations don't have shoes.
The problem with ordering shoes online is that you have to guess the size. I guessed 10, and I was wrong. They were too small. So I knew I'd have to ship them back, and it would be this big problem that would cost me more money.
Not so.
Old Navy puts a pre-paid return shipping sticker in the bag with your stuff. But that's not all, oh no. The bag it came in is resealable. You can just put the thing back in the bag, slap the shipping sticker on it, and drop it at UPS. Doesn't cost a cent of shipping. I couldn't believe it. If you want, they'll even send you the new item before you return the old one, and credit you back the cost once they get the old one. Impressive.
They're awesome shoes, too. Wool shoes? Rad.
Mad props to Old Navy for providing today's Positive Consumer Experience. Go buy things from them.
Today's winner is the online ordering from Old Navy. I've always liked Old Navy, but this was my first time ordering online. I did so because I was getting a pair of shoes, and most of their physical locations don't have shoes.
The problem with ordering shoes online is that you have to guess the size. I guessed 10, and I was wrong. They were too small. So I knew I'd have to ship them back, and it would be this big problem that would cost me more money.
Not so.
Old Navy puts a pre-paid return shipping sticker in the bag with your stuff. But that's not all, oh no. The bag it came in is resealable. You can just put the thing back in the bag, slap the shipping sticker on it, and drop it at UPS. Doesn't cost a cent of shipping. I couldn't believe it. If you want, they'll even send you the new item before you return the old one, and credit you back the cost once they get the old one. Impressive.
They're awesome shoes, too. Wool shoes? Rad.
Mad props to Old Navy for providing today's Positive Consumer Experience. Go buy things from them.
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