Chris

I am leaving tomorrow for training. I have tomorrow in a hotel, tuesday at the processing station (lots of stretching and prodding) and a plane ride, and the rest of the week getting a haircut, uniform, shots and paperwork completed. By the end of the week I will have started Basic Combat Training. The first three weeks are a lot of yelling and meaningless work to break down the guys that should never have been allowed in. The next three weeks are intro courses and confidence courses and the last three are marches and live-fire training. That is where I will get to use the grenades.
This is the best I have been able to figure out. For all I know it will be just like the secretive Priesthood Conference sessions (ice cream social and Dance Dance Revolution double-elimination competition).
In any case, I will send Anna lots of information and hopefully she will start writing more and let you know what Basic and Officer Candidate School are like. The quantity of her writing dropped drastically when we got married and she says it is because she feels no need to mass-communicate her ideas any more. I figure that after I abandon her with two un-potty-trained daughters for half of a year she might have a need to mass-communicate again. Hopefully you will get to read some new stories and poems.

I have no idea how to get ripped quick. It would be nice to know, though, because I have to report for duty on Monday and I want to get perfect PT scores. If you don't pass any of the tests (2 minutes of pushups/situps and 2 mile timed run) then you get sent to the remedial training group where you do lots of extra physical training. That and you get shamed in front of everyone for not getting adequately prepared like everyone else did.
I shouldn't have any problems, but it would so bad if I did that it keeps me up at night. Just kidding, nothing keeps me up at night. Not even screaming babies and too-bright night lights.

Speaking of the solar system, I think it is good that Pluto not be a planet anymore because it wasn't ever really respected as one anyway. Instead of the sissiest planet, it is now King of the Kuiper Belt. Also, if Pluto were to remain a planet, we would have about 13 planets now, seeing as more large bodies have been found in the Kuiper Belt. I am sure there were more reasons but I am conflicted again by the research issue. Well, I am actually not conflicted at all, I am just not going to do any research.
Planet Pluto would be like the crust of our solar system slice of bread: nothing special and devoid of antioxidants.

I wrote yesterday that I would post about bread crust and its unremarkable nutritional values, but I didn't want to do any research.
I had to think of a topic that needs no research, and I think that I am my own best topic. This morning I slept in and ate breakfast and then I used a high pressure water hose to clean a concrete stairwell. I got paint and dirt in my hair and teeth but it was pretty fun. It also reminded me of the worst job I have ever had.
Last summer I worked at a one-day temp job cleaning old recycling bins with a high pressure hose. There were probably one or two hundred of them and most were filled with grass clippings or old newspaper pulp. There were a few that had animal (I hope) waste and rotting food. It wasn't just the smell and material, though. This high pressure sprayer would blast the crud out of the cans right back into my face. I had gunk in my nose, eyes, hair and ears. My shoes were saturated and shredded (the spray would cut the soles of my shoes) and I got burned really bad because I didn't ever get a lunch break. I can always look back on that day and know that it has been the worst day of my life so far.

But that only means I have had a pretty easy life.

I really have a better thing to write about. I hurt myself really bad twice today. We went on a walk and David has this motorized scooter that he was riding around, so I grabbed one of those little Razor scooters and went on a path. I tried to do some great tricks like riding backwards with no hands and going down bumpy hills while steering with my thighs. Needless to say I crashed really bad. It would have been better if it wasn't right in front of my disapproving mother and disappointed wife. Soapy thought it was funny and Josie does not know how to interact with the world, so at least I am a hero in their eyes.
Later, David and I were on a bridge and I looked down and saw some sidewalk chalk that was tossed at the bottom of this rock filled creek-bed. It was only about a 6 foot drop, so we climbed over the side rail and jumped down. I was going to do great but then I landed. I had forgotten that when you jump a 6 foot height from the top of a 4 foot rail, it turns into a 10 foot height. I was real worried that I broke my foot but I think I just bruised my left heel. Heels are a terrible thing to bruise. I also had to tell Anna that I had learned my lesson and will not damage myself before we get my military benefits secured.

I thought I would post one of my favorite letters for my blog today. You can rest assured that tomorrows will be a good one. It will be about why the crust of bread is not better for you than the normal part. Bryan, if you remember, wrote a post explaining why the crust is better for you than the normal part of the bread, but I am stubborn and refuse to believe his quack science. But for today, I encourage you to read this letter which has been described as one of the purest examples of English:

Executive Mansion,
Washington, Nov. 21, 1864.

Dear Madam,

I have been shown in the files of the War Department a statement of the Adjutant General of Massachusetts that you are the mother of five sons who have died gloriously on the field of battle. I feel how weak and fruitless must be any word of mine which should attempt to beguile you from the grief of a loss so overwhelming. But I cannot refrain from tendering you the consolation that may be found in the thanks of the Republic they died to save. I pray that our Heavenly Father may assuage the anguish of your bereavement, and leave you only the cherished memory of the loved and lost, and the solemn pride that must be yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of freedom.

Yours, very sincerely and respectfully,

A. Lincoln

And remember, tomorrow you will learn why crust is garbage and on Saturday I will tell why Pluto is better off not a planet.

Today Anna is typing and I will be dictating. I would like to start by expressing my dislike of "The Gift of the Magi." Primarily, because that is what happens when you don't communicate.

"What?" Anna says.

I was not clear. I don't like the story because they each only get dumb accessories for Christmas, and they are worse off for the exchange. It is the exact opposite of what should happen in a home economy. Their combined love is less than the sum of its parts.

Anna says: He's not talking about the story about the monkey's paw.

Nobody knows any story about a monkey's paw. It's obviously about a story about luxurious hair, tortoise shell hair accessories and a watchless chain.

My second reason for disliking this story is that I don't know how to pronounce it; I can only vent about it in the written format.

Anna: You don't know how to say Magi?

Is it Magi or magi?

Anna: Magi

Thyis is chris for real. I have commandeerred the keyboard and am typin g t a weird angle because anna wont move. She is the worst scribe EVER. She wont type what I am really saying and is only mocking me. What I mean is, I don't know if it is a soft g like "MAHJ-eye" or a hard g like "MA-guy".
Anna said she is bored. I am too. I am pretty sure this would have been a good explanation about why this story bothers me, but now it is a crazy rant.

Today was a nice day. I woke up when I wasn't sleepy anymore and got dressed to go running and left while it was still cool outside. I got back and had cinnamon rolls, hot chocolate, a smoothie, and sausages for breakfast and then read for 6 of the next 7 hours. I also fit a nap in there. Then I went out and chopped wood for an hour and came back in for lunch. I read some more and then ate lunch and played with Soapy. I came back inside and rocked Josie for an hour while she slept and I read some more. I put Josie down and spun Soapy outside on the tree swing until she felt sick and we came in to do some puzzles and watched Dumbo. Then we ate dinner, played a little and read.
I think I could not have had a better day unless I had a motorcyle.
Anna is determined to prevent me from ever living out a perfect day completely, which is a real shame, considering many people don't ever really get to live this closely to a perfect day.
For shame, Anna...


footnote: I have been looking at different motorcyles, and I think my favorite is this Ducati, which I will likely never be allowed to have