WELL I HAD A GOOD RUN WHILE IT LASTED

I'd avoided it for over a year, but now it has reared its ugly head once more. I thought I might get lucky and never have to deal with it again, but it was a vain and foolish hope. I've contracted a cold. Curses.

It's all McKay's fault, you see. I had been going strong until he brought the devilish rhinovirus into our formerly clean home. Mark my words, his uppance for committing such an act will soon come.

I used to get colds all the time. They were my weakness. After about fifteen, I've been nearly impervious to the flu, food poisoning, fevers, etc. and rarely ever got anything besides coughs and sniffles. However, the cold was always a regular visitor about every 3-4 months.

Then, one blessed day, my mom taught me the incredible trick to avoid the dastardly diseases (I feel accomplished for legitimately using "dastardly" in an everyday sentence). When you start to feel one coming on, simply take a teaspoon of baking soda in a glass of water ASAP. Although it tastes foul, it will stop the virus' progression dead in its tracks 90% of the time. This time, however, it was the dreaded other 10% that got through.

The reason I'm writing about this whole situation is because I find it funny that, although the human body is such an incredible and miraculous instrument, it has some of the most ridiculous flaws. For instance, when is the most necessary time to sleep? When you're sick. When is it hardest to sleep? When you're sick. When do you need fluids most? When you're ill. When do you feel least like drinking fluids? When you're ill.

What kind of organism can keep itself running strong for sometimes over one hundred years, heal all sorts of injuries, and fight off all kinds of would-be deadly infections, yet still accidentally kill itself by swelling the wrong area at the wrong time after sustaining damage? Wouldn't it be better if we had a wee bit more personal control over the decisions our bodies make? Like "Hey, self? I know you're choking on that thingy there, but closing off your throat and asphyxiating yourself is not a good idea."

Maybe I should look into various eastern practices that supposedly give one more control over his/her body. Methinks that might come in handy sooner or later.

A STRANGE PHENOMENON

Just as I began writing this, it hit me that it doesn't sit quite right with me when I start out a post with the word I. I asked myself why this was and realized that I've been brought up to not be a "me-monster," or someone who always wants the focus to be on themselves. I think this is a typically a wonderful thing and I'm very grateful that I was reared in such a way. Thanks, mom!

Nevertheless, I'm glad that I have a place that I can write and express my own thoughts and not feel that I'm being overly selfish or self-absorbed, even though it still doesn't feel totally right yet. This thought journal is about my life, so I'm going to write about my life, and do my best to not feel weird about it. Huzzah! What a spectacular feeling. If you, however, don't feel like reading something so extraordinarily boring as this, feel free to head on over to Chuck Norris' personal website instead. I wouldn't blame you.

Anyway, back to my original thought. Before I continue, let me say that I absolutely do not mean to sound like a judgmental self-righteous wanker in any way.

I've been thinking a lot lately about something that, for the life of me, I can't figure out. It's concerning my friends and those particularly close to me. I have some excellent friends who have blessed my life abundantly throughout the years and who have taught me some incredible things. They've been there for me in many situations when I needed a listening ear or help with one thing or another. I've been taught loads of life lessons from my associations with them that many other people don't get an opportunity to learn. I love them and definitely wouldn't trade their friendship for anything.

The oddity is that many of my friends aren't the ones most people would expect me to have. For anyone who doesn't know, I live a relatively strict code of Christian obedience and morality and strive to emulate all of the virtues of Jesus Christ. Although I'm far from perfect and slip on the path all the time, I've by and large tried consistently to do everything He would have me do ever since I learned for myself that He is real and loves me. I've been fortunate to have had some wonderful examples that have helped me in that goal.

A good number of my aforementioned great friends, however, either aren't committed to living the Gospel or have seriously struggled with living it throughout their lives. I don't think that I'm saying anything they'd object to, considering the ones I'm referring to are the first to admit they've had such struggles. Many of them have had to overcome great challenges and I respect them immensely for it.

What I don't understand is why they even want me around. Most of them like to engage in activities that I won't because of promises I have made. I won't compromise my conduct because of the wants or choices of others. However, instead of trying to entice me to go along with their activities when they aren't in line with my code of conduct, they respect my decisions and don't encourage me to do what my standards prohibit. They push me to do the right thing and want me to succeed. When we spend time together, they agree to do things everyone can comfortably do.

When I consider being in their position, I'm not sure I would be amazing enough to bring along the guy who lives a different way than I do and then conform to his standards when I'm with him. It isn't just an isolated case where this has happened, it's occurred everywhere I have lived for any decent amount of time.

The other half to the puzzle is that the opposite is often true for people that live the kind of lifestyle that I do. I get along with just about everybody and could maybe number the people that I really don't get along with on my thumbs. I have many friends that are and have been active members of the LDS Church and have lived by the same standards for a long time. However, there are only a few with whom I have become really close. Although I'm friends with all of my former missionary companions and would put my life on the line for any of them if necessary, I'm not particularly close with any of them anymore.

I don't think it's because I prefer to be around one group of people more than another. As long as someone is respectful, kind, trustworthy, and wants friendship, I'm glad to reciprocate. I've known every girl I've dated to generally share my values, considering that's one type of relationship in which I require the other person to be on the same page as me. It simply seems that, for one reason or another, a lot of people who live like I do just aren't as interested in my friendship as others who don't. I'm not quite sure why this is.

Although it's puzzling, I'm honestly pretty much OK with the whole situation. I've got great friends. That's more than most can say. If I have the opportunity to develop friendships with any good people, regardless who or what they may be, I will.

DREAMS ARE ODD, AREN'T THEY?

I had a couple of strange dreams last night. I would almost consider them nightmares, but not quite. To me, a dream has to be exceptionally bad for it to be considered a nightmare.

What was so bizarre as to make me write about them was that, in both of the dreams, I wasn't the kind of person that I think I am. This is a fairly common occurrence for me. In one, I was more of a pansy and more prone to run away or avoid from the problem in the dream rather than to face it. In the other, I was the "bad guy."

The first struck me as odd because I'm much more likely to try to deal with a problem as soon as possible, even when it's better to be left alone. For instance, when I'm given a project to work on, I typically prefer to set aside eight hours and just get it done rather than work two hours a day and finish it within a week. Setting things aside or even avoiding them altogether just doesn't go with who I am. This is especially true in dangerous situations, as I'd rather deal with the problem or person than try to run away from it or them.

The second was even more strange because I can't be a bad person, even in pretend situations. If a role in a play, program, game, or anything else calls for me to pretend to be evil, I can hardly do it. Even fake evil bugs me. Something inside of me just recoils at hurting people or committing crime, regardless whether it's made up or real. That my mind could conjure the idea up of me participating in things that my waking mind finds so repulsive is kind of troubling.

I'm at a loss as to why I have different personalities in my dreams than I do while I'm awake. I'm curious if other people have the same thing happen to them. Maybe it's just a natural part of being human. Maybe I'm just a weirdo. I wouldn't rule the latter out. :)

A NEW BEGINNING

Admittedly, this isn't my first post on this blog (from now on, I'm going to call this whole thingy a thought journal because the word "blog" doesn't really float my boat). I wrote a fairly lengthy original post a little while ago but I deleted it. I decided I wanted this journal to be of a different feel than the first post set.

I confess I like to write. It makes me feel productive and gives me the illusion that I might actually have something important to say that someone would like to read (silly me). Who knows, though. Maybe I'll think of something once in a while that resonates with someone else. Even a blind squirrel finds the occasional nut, right?

One difficulty with the above statement that begins the paragraph is that I'm also a rather private person. You know those incredible lyricists and poets who write extraordinary songs and poems about extremely personal issues that end up connecting with everyone else? Unfortunately, I'm not one of those people. The idea of putting my heart and soul on display for all to see isn't something comfortable to me. It takes a lot of trust for me to confide in another person and let him/her know what I really think and feel. To everyone else, I prefer to express myself in symbols than direct messages.

Hopefully writing in this will help me come out of that, to a point. Don't get me wrong, my primary reason for writing is, well, because I like to write. However, if I can learn something productive in the process, that would just be fantastic, now wouldn't it?