(Originally done on MySpace, referring to friends who were linked there at the time:)
Jesse: his willingness to give just about everyone a chance, his ability to ask for advice, his trustworthiness (not to mention his skills with the ladies)
Anne: her enthusiasm for her friends, her affectionate expression, her intelligent obedience (not to mention her snuggling abilities)
Matt: his unassuming warmth, his desire to bring out the best in others, his ease of laughter (not to mention his love of irreverence at just the right times)
"Miss M": her enthusiasm for all good things, her thoughtful giving of time and tokens, her drive for harmony in herself and with others (not to mention her almost unbelievable memory for dates/anniversaries/b-days)
"Tito": his unabashed sense of mission, his unrelenting search for truth, his playful thoughtfulness (not to mention his Broadway-style vocals)
Colton: his contagious smile, his (usually) soft-spoken wisdom, his adaptable cooperative helpfulness (not to mention his astounding Disney trivia skills)
Jenny: her enthusiasm to share her excitement, her ready openness, her supportive positivity (not to mention her twinkie-making prowess)
Stephanie: her playful warmth, her desire to give most things a chance to impress, her engaging demeanor (not to mention her ever-impressive store of expressions ready for just the right photo opp)
More to come...
18 June 2006
31 May 2006
I'm a Collector
When I was a kid, I collected things. Clarification: I collected EVERYTHING. Marbles. Stickers. Bugs. Paint samples. Keychains. Decks of cards. Rocks. Shells. Petrified wood. Hourglasses. Mini glass/ceramic animals. Micro Machines. Hotwheels. Legos. Money. Dice. Yeah, everything.
I just loved collecting things and seeing the fascinating array in my motley menagerie. It wasn't that I had any special plans for each and every one. I didn't play with my paint samples. But when I was little, I would fan out my prized paint samples and marvel at the array of color before me. I would turn over all of my hourglasses and egg timers and follow the grains of sand as they journeyed downward, wondering at how unique each hourglass was, no two the same pace, no two the same behavior. I would take out my Micro Machines and splay out a cityscape with dozens of different citizens, some busily running their errands, others enjoying a leisurely meal or scenic drive, and of course the occasionally inevitable and disastrous twenty car pile-up, complete with screaming and explosions.
My rocks were probably the biggest collection. I didn't play with them, per se. I didn't often get them out and arrange them in any particular way. But I liked checking on them. Looking at the amazing diversity mined out of the earth. Wondering where each came from, what it had seen, what made it the way it was. Treasuring each one for its uniqueness. For the part it held in the whole. For the dab it was in the mosaic of geology. And of course, there were always a few rocks, or colors, or Micro Machines, that I spent the most time with. Sometimes, my old favorites slipped into the background when new favorites came along, but I always valued them as having a special place in the collection, even if I didn't play with them or marvel at them as much anymore.
Most of my collections are now tucked away or dispersed into other homes or landfills. I now have other collections. Corals. Clothes. Gems. DVDs. Books. Knowledge. Wisdom. Insight. And sometimes, I just look over my DVDs and remember what each one taught me or made me feel. My corals make up a fascinating ecosystem. When I buy a new shirt, I like to hang it with my others and see how the wardrobe is now slightly different, new, refreshed. When I hear a new insight on life, I find where it fits into my collection and tuck it in.
Admittedly, most of my longest and closest friendships are not represented on MySpace. Still, there's something about every person on my friends list that I remember: something I like about you, something you taught me, something we've shared, a connection we've made, a common goal or task. Sometimes it's powerful, sometimes casual. Some relationships have been complex and pivotal, some refreshingly simple.
I just sometimes need a reminder that maybe a person's most meaningful collection is positive relationships.
The really unique thing about this collection: it's incredibly dynamic. Even when old acquaintances slip into the background, they're always changing, and so are you, and you never know when you might be brought back together or swept apart. But regardless, it's a collection you take with you.
OK so maybe it's not profound or new, but I I figured was worth writing. OK enough lounging, I'm gonna go get sweaty and buff.
I just loved collecting things and seeing the fascinating array in my motley menagerie. It wasn't that I had any special plans for each and every one. I didn't play with my paint samples. But when I was little, I would fan out my prized paint samples and marvel at the array of color before me. I would turn over all of my hourglasses and egg timers and follow the grains of sand as they journeyed downward, wondering at how unique each hourglass was, no two the same pace, no two the same behavior. I would take out my Micro Machines and splay out a cityscape with dozens of different citizens, some busily running their errands, others enjoying a leisurely meal or scenic drive, and of course the occasionally inevitable and disastrous twenty car pile-up, complete with screaming and explosions.
My rocks were probably the biggest collection. I didn't play with them, per se. I didn't often get them out and arrange them in any particular way. But I liked checking on them. Looking at the amazing diversity mined out of the earth. Wondering where each came from, what it had seen, what made it the way it was. Treasuring each one for its uniqueness. For the part it held in the whole. For the dab it was in the mosaic of geology. And of course, there were always a few rocks, or colors, or Micro Machines, that I spent the most time with. Sometimes, my old favorites slipped into the background when new favorites came along, but I always valued them as having a special place in the collection, even if I didn't play with them or marvel at them as much anymore.
Most of my collections are now tucked away or dispersed into other homes or landfills. I now have other collections. Corals. Clothes. Gems. DVDs. Books. Knowledge. Wisdom. Insight. And sometimes, I just look over my DVDs and remember what each one taught me or made me feel. My corals make up a fascinating ecosystem. When I buy a new shirt, I like to hang it with my others and see how the wardrobe is now slightly different, new, refreshed. When I hear a new insight on life, I find where it fits into my collection and tuck it in.
Admittedly, most of my longest and closest friendships are not represented on MySpace. Still, there's something about every person on my friends list that I remember: something I like about you, something you taught me, something we've shared, a connection we've made, a common goal or task. Sometimes it's powerful, sometimes casual. Some relationships have been complex and pivotal, some refreshingly simple.
I just sometimes need a reminder that maybe a person's most meaningful collection is positive relationships.
The really unique thing about this collection: it's incredibly dynamic. Even when old acquaintances slip into the background, they're always changing, and so are you, and you never know when you might be brought back together or swept apart. But regardless, it's a collection you take with you.
OK so maybe it's not profound or new, but I I figured was worth writing. OK enough lounging, I'm gonna go get sweaty and buff.
17 April 2006
Unemployed by May
Well, FYI--it looks like my stint at Symetra has been extended just a couple of weeks, and I should be be done by the end of the month. So come May, I'm unemployed again. Now, surely there will be another fine temp assignment available right around the corner. But do I take it? Where to go? What to do?
Back to Cali? Head out east? Give Provo a fair--albeit undeserved--chance? Maybe Salt Lake? Tibet? Peru? Do I take my cat with me or give him up? School...hm...could I take classes at UW? Could I arrange in-state tuition? I probably can't do grad school yet, but maybe some courses to prep for grad school? Maybe find a writing internship somewhere? How do I go about such a thing?
Get another job here in the area, or temp somewhere else?
Maybe one of you has the answer. Tell me: what am I do be? A teacher? Diplomat? Counselor? Biologist? Writer? Financial advisor? An entrepreneur/small business owner? Those all appeal to me. Maybe I should just take a vote and go with the majority consensus.
I mean, my lifelong dream of becoming the world's most famous go-go dancer isn't really panning out. I even bought the sparkly, gold cowboy boots to match my gold bowtie and speedo, but it's just not working. It may be time to retire that goal in exchange for a better one (it's hard to imagine a better one, I know).
Back to Cali? Head out east? Give Provo a fair--albeit undeserved--chance? Maybe Salt Lake? Tibet? Peru? Do I take my cat with me or give him up? School...hm...could I take classes at UW? Could I arrange in-state tuition? I probably can't do grad school yet, but maybe some courses to prep for grad school? Maybe find a writing internship somewhere? How do I go about such a thing?
Get another job here in the area, or temp somewhere else?
Maybe one of you has the answer. Tell me: what am I do be? A teacher? Diplomat? Counselor? Biologist? Writer? Financial advisor? An entrepreneur/small business owner? Those all appeal to me. Maybe I should just take a vote and go with the majority consensus.
I mean, my lifelong dream of becoming the world's most famous go-go dancer isn't really panning out. I even bought the sparkly, gold cowboy boots to match my gold bowtie and speedo, but it's just not working. It may be time to retire that goal in exchange for a better one (it's hard to imagine a better one, I know).
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