tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83487416559992055162024-03-13T03:05:27.978-07:00Babbling BlabberFrom the abstruse mind of Jacob ParryJacob Parryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05290520569293588011noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348741655999205516.post-79886744107964796382009-11-02T08:37:00.000-08:002009-11-02T08:44:18.334-08:00The End Is Here Only To Be Replaced With A New Beginning<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>This will be the last post on this blog. It does not, however, mean that the babbling blabbers are over, it just means that they are moving to a new site.</div><div><br /></div><div>Here is a little <a href="http://jacobandlauraparry.blogspot.com/">shortcut</a> to what will take you to the new adventures of what is now The Parry Family!</div><div><br /></div><div>The new site is still under construction, but you can still get the latest babblings.</div><div><br /></div><div>PEACE IM OUTTA HERE!!<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 198px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZCN5b6OmuyO7VqxRI_CZzsAV6NXAXXUYZQuQLSfaSMwbg09bpidygnzEU_DPED5qHfgD6niYYuttl9g4Ynq7vcG9asZjTg76BZZDX3IV7Mm4wKiU6cy3fFyiXiPoGQ_zAhBI0cdhxCys/s320/the-end-3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399547953277678674" />Jacob Parryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05290520569293588011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348741655999205516.post-91543044846176128872009-07-20T11:47:00.000-07:002009-07-20T17:28:43.496-07:00Anxiously Engaged In A Good Cause<div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir6_exeCEcZUhKRIOWaPDbZGibL-Xi8yGcIFIeFQLFohfH038vsZ7BRSOVUrC94GiIZegBRjLHcLYU2FxA6HeYNYGOAEMrXyqQafNU8S5rdr5BDbx7c9aFvO4iFH6NpnSjDhHWQaQuRpw/s1600-h/P1010381.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir6_exeCEcZUhKRIOWaPDbZGibL-Xi8yGcIFIeFQLFohfH038vsZ7BRSOVUrC94GiIZegBRjLHcLYU2FxA6HeYNYGOAEMrXyqQafNU8S5rdr5BDbx7c9aFvO4iFH6NpnSjDhHWQaQuRpw/s320/P1010381.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360652081108481410" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">On July 3rd I got engaged to Laura </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 16px; "><span class="prondelim" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">[</span></span></span><span class="pron" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; "><span class="boldface" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: 700; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">lah</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">-</span></span><span class="sc" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; font-variant: small-caps; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">r</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ah</span></span></span><span class="pron" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">;</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="labset" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; font-style: normal; "><span class="ital-inline" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Eng.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="pron" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; "><span class="boldface" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: 700; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">lah</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">-r</span></span><span class="ital-inline" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">uh</span></span></span></span><span class="prondelim" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">]</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">(no middle name) Riddle </span></span></span></span></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I'm sure that all my devoted followers are just dying to know how I proposed to my bride-to-be. Well, here is the story:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In order for you to understand and appreciate the awesomeness of this story, you have to get a little background story, which I am happy and willing to give.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Laura and I have been dating (on and off) since our first date on October 31st of last year. In fact, I had my eyes on her since a couple of weeks before that. Here is a little excerpt from my journal dated October 29th:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"Laura has always been able to grab my eyes a little longer than everyone else, but I never noticed before. Now that I am aware of my staggered attention I am curious about where things could go if I try and insert myself into part of her life."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMWVmNU1cHHO3_nKpzlSOoR1P2EJOi_8RLuXidwXtxzBUzn_Q2X4tf1KyO9oS5Ipgwg2-PQhPQGPd25oNp5hBKDZhwYh9xC9AgOVdXWQI_Jxk2I5wkoXeygJUBZ2DgqiVsY50p8OdxEhM/s1600-h/P1010378.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMWVmNU1cHHO3_nKpzlSOoR1P2EJOi_8RLuXidwXtxzBUzn_Q2X4tf1KyO9oS5Ipgwg2-PQhPQGPd25oNp5hBKDZhwYh9xC9AgOVdXWQI_Jxk2I5wkoXeygJUBZ2DgqiVsY50p8OdxEhM/s320/P1010378.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360652896142694898" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We became an official couple on the following Thanksgiving, which also marked the day of our first kiss... Two weeks later, she broke up with me. The details of the breakup are boring, so I will leave them out.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">For the next 3 months I tried to get her back. She kept telling me not to hold on to the false hope of us one day getting back together. I told her that I wouldn't, but in secret I always did. We still spent a lot of time together, we called it "fake dating," which was just what I called it to trick her into thinking that we were "kind of dating" :)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We finally got back together and lasted another 3 weeks before I broke things off. Isn't that weird? I had been trying to get her back for months and months and finally when I got what I wanted I had doubts. I was really confused on what was going on. I couldn't understand why I broke up with her. I finally came to the conclusion that I just had to take some time to really ponder on the situation. That was on March 22nd. On May 24th we got back together for the last time. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I was anxious to get a ring on her finger. She was a little bit more hesitant. I finally convinced her that I was the best choice and a week before the proposal she designed the ring that she wanted and gave me detailed instructions on how the proposal was going to happen (time, place, date) I had little to do except put the ring on the finger.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">On July 3rd I drove down to Provo and picked up the ring. I then took Laura to Sundance. We took the ski lift up to the top of the mountain and found a little trail that took us around to the south side of the mountain. We stopped in the middle of the path to enjoy the sun setting over the peak and the plant and animal life. I was a little nervous even though I knew that she was going to say yes to what I was about to propose. She set her purse down so we could take some pictures. As she walked back to get her purse, I pulled the ring out of my pocket. Right when I got it out it fell out of my hands and landed on the dirt by my feet....I dropped to the ground fumbling for the case trying to get it before she saw that I had dropped it, but it was too late. She turned around and saw me on my knees trying my hardest to look casual. I finally got hold of the ring and while on my knee I held it up to her. I opened it and while she looked at it and smiled I sat there silent wondering what was going to happen next. After a few seconds of silence I realized that I still had to ask the question. "Will you marry me?" I barely finished asking when she said "yes" and pulled me up for a kiss. Yummy.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCxcNKmlfGpWMVN2m8De-3K5lRlq59WL0FSOlgQPcfbz5vQUF6Z9g02DA_8fEyWjqeua3P9OBTyGi9EBA8LgFHnvInbQpjlAD68VgI4rr_SpHqu788H-xLgSYK3-wCLV7QwqfM_pg1E2E/s1600-h/P1010366.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCxcNKmlfGpWMVN2m8De-3K5lRlq59WL0FSOlgQPcfbz5vQUF6Z9g02DA_8fEyWjqeua3P9OBTyGi9EBA8LgFHnvInbQpjlAD68VgI4rr_SpHqu788H-xLgSYK3-wCLV7QwqfM_pg1E2E/s320/P1010366.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360652890351964770" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We hugged and kissed and then got off the mountain. We went and visited her family to share the news and talk a little bit about wedding plans.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">That was just over 2 weeks ago and things are going great. I am happy happy happy. </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinf1oq20nfd3pjJHogtCGZAmhrzaDxtJ773Cbcc4NF5zQ7AkMbHhnM54yaawlUDrLTXz93kHrv0SlV1tT-Tmetl1pBkPQEfpuYJPAIn3QoZgpiZm_-jSyUB4TXyN5Rtd-97sF6LYLI4j4/s1600-h/IMG_2714.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinf1oq20nfd3pjJHogtCGZAmhrzaDxtJ773Cbcc4NF5zQ7AkMbHhnM54yaawlUDrLTXz93kHrv0SlV1tT-Tmetl1pBkPQEfpuYJPAIn3QoZgpiZm_-jSyUB4TXyN5Rtd-97sF6LYLI4j4/s320/IMG_2714.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360653610436335106" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I'm pretty sure she is too... :)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We are getting married on October 10th.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I love her!!</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2hVBhVCvHZupFcacH88Vb4NfZq3s4enjdCCzCTSDhR6I2Nnxd-4GEyC84yB3i0lgsCVOrKY1_2S_S3QldRvhdqjlgCxxXuQVvG1zKOAw7KExiL-48-nzktfSawX-qfhKKFJo0_I9gizo/s1600-h/IMG_2697.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2hVBhVCvHZupFcacH88Vb4NfZq3s4enjdCCzCTSDhR6I2Nnxd-4GEyC84yB3i0lgsCVOrKY1_2S_S3QldRvhdqjlgCxxXuQVvG1zKOAw7KExiL-48-nzktfSawX-qfhKKFJo0_I9gizo/s320/IMG_2697.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360652089280296050" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir6_exeCEcZUhKRIOWaPDbZGibL-Xi8yGcIFIeFQLFohfH038vsZ7BRSOVUrC94GiIZegBRjLHcLYU2FxA6HeYNYGOAEMrXyqQafNU8S5rdr5BDbx7c9aFvO4iFH6NpnSjDhHWQaQuRpw/s1600-h/P1010381.JPG"></a><div></div></div></div></div>Jacob Parryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05290520569293588011noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348741655999205516.post-38468789894559429262009-05-22T13:03:00.000-07:002009-05-22T23:47:22.514-07:00I'm Much Older Now!<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">CXXVIII Days Later...</span></span></span></span></div><br /><br />After a mere 128 days without updating my blog... I am back. This moment has been waited for by many people anxious to hear the next exciting babble that I have to blabber. For others, it wont be so exciting.<div><br /></div><div>My apologies for all who have gone to my page looking for another update and have found nothing...sorry.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, I will start from the present day and work my way backwards as far as I can remember:</div><div><br /></div><div>I just started school again this week. For those of you who aren't in the know, I have been trying to get back into the student thing for the last year. I have literally registered for classes every semester for the last 12 months and later having to withdraw from classes for a different reason every semester. I have finally gotten my status as a resident and am now a full-time student once again at the University of Utah. My class schedule is quite fun really...I am taking a Political Science class where our focus is the U.S. Government. I am also taking a writing class that hasn't really sparked my interest yet. So far this class has given the impression that we are going to be interpreting the writings of other people more than just writing out own stuff. I'm not really into critiquing the work of others. I prefer getting my own work critiqued. The other two classes I am taking are Basic Drawing and a Nutrition and Health class...fun.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have taken up the art of swimming as a way to exercise. Every Tuesday and Thursday I make my way up to the pool that is so conveniently placed near my first two classes and swim until I either can't breath anymore or my muscles don't keep me afloat, then I get out and head over to my last class of the day. It is quite a workout. My goggles are sweet.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 273px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjItdaNcPezJoxKfBy8NqaXdlvQrDiYuy89j_VjFok9vPi6DqKaKLFCi61zpIF9GQXTOVF7qtZ-8pAaZJTffudoQGRSWlZeYPIx9N9bpXbOjJ7MNFwiqhaqiHmJKMa8JinsTCj7IOLYVO4/s400/n1956010_39528710_5477.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338761168318787874" /><div style="text-align: center;">(This picture isn't recent)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div>I am still working as a valet at the Hotel Monaco. We just got new uniforms for the summer. Tell me if you think this is smart: For the winter we had white shirts and black pants, for the summer we just switched to black shirts with black shorts (the shorts look like black dress pants cut to be shorts. They are pleated and cuffed.) We also have to wear white socks. How gay (bad [gay meaning bad, not gay being bad, even though being gay is bad {bad meaning bad not</div><div> bad meaning cool}]) are we going to look?</div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNjDifbxGqX5wnLZ4Ar-eAjHew1u3I8sHH-2WBtqFhJj1GfpyRcRpMGlRdkPnlIphhp2UJ_wAY_q-yR2wQZjlPjQar8X81TPRqeSpbU-mVwjd3YwCxVNQOXGIGcuaYzxjmZgacQRlY9pk/s400/DSC_1777.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338747149502290210" /><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr1GyfnZB8D6aW2RfkZMFaWLxJeolVGp9xWJm8v2RVnfMuY1DpGyg7T3exUXimGVkpVZ6GCa0Ry53ymoTpPhULNESrcDuIEYpF58aXh6hkBZeSDGfuN_lawBOB_bpD3PujhQyGj3v3I10/s400/DSC_1884.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338747146144222306" /><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaN18K9K-muctdOuxtIxUK7VEYo5yNs0_XvTuyCp15vYgbUc3Pgp6CA18JGTttnfaQtBf_8-3VEMuGXuiHRX2dRgFLS71CHeoYvAP5Gx_ImR_YrIffUvJfM03uaAo7yo9X8oStddJT2fk/s400/DSC_1818.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338747140491563762" /><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Fxmi7CYnJJwAQLuIOJLC2euc39TWDDfs7SUQehLIAqKxx00hP7wI-AYM5QAiRdca4IeCQ7ggkfw6fuGBpmYCLkWHhQCvrk6vhEbR40ZDEnNnRkeiGlo_-rHjTRxGtpuLFCv-mrMmYfM/s400/DSC_1790.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338747143703544002" /><div>I recently went to Champaign/Urbana Illinois this past weekend. My older brother gradumacated from law school. Congratulations to him!! I got the opportunity of hanging out with my little niece Cadence and her little brother (my nephew) Jack. I will include some pictures.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I got to Chicago on Friday the 15th at approx. 11:15am. I knew that I was going to be waiting for my parents for a few hours before they would show up so I decided to do some site seeing. I got on a train from the airport and heading downtown with the idea of walking a couple of miles to The Navy Pier, which is a big touristy spot on the edge of Lake Michigan. When I got off the train it was raining, so after hoofing it for the two miles I was soaking wet. I got inside and found a bathroom where I spent 15 minutes drying off with the paper towels that were provided.</div><div><br /></div><div>I walked around and found a nice little hotdog stand where I decided to have lunch. They messed up my order.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was very bored, for what seemed to be a long time. I knew exactly how long it was, it just seemed longer.</div><div><br /></div><div>After talking to my dad, we decided to meet at the Union Station, which we did. Then we got aboard and rode for what seemed like a long time. I knew exactly how long it was, it just seemed longer.</div><div><br /></div><div>We spent the rest of the time at Zach's place where we enjoyed the company of everyone that was there. Then, after what seemed like a long time, we went home. I knew exactly how long it was, it just seemed longer. Just kidding, it was fun. It didn't seem that long.</div><div><br /></div><div>Chicago is a really cool place. We walked right by the Sears tower, which seems to be really tall. I know exactly how tall it is (1,450 feet), it just seems taller. </div><div><br /></div><div>Okay, enough with the "seems like" jokes.</div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0IEJ6SHjO3wFVNtZluu8tneRvjeo5QAxC2nYiSoIiTBsNOoSoxo8NVMTzFkqt1TtdrdAhhTdvkgAuM46_3ANsE3sUhnbTDWVYXR-z-5vz-eRmOBVMBrQpL0Cs_2lgdPd_gRGvn_L8Y24/s400/sears-tower.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338751019342681890" /><div>So, I did the math, and it turns out that if I go to school every semester until I am done with school, I will be done in the Spring time of 2011. That is better than I thought it would be. Well, that is for my undergraduate, its another 2 years after that to get my Masters. So, after all is said and done I will be 27 years old when I am totally done. That isn't bad considering it took Zach until he was 29 to finish. I am feeling pretty good.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am taking a drawing class right now. For our first assignment we were asked to draw the person that we had previously chosen to be partners with while keeping our eyes off the paper. It is a form of art called "blind drawing." The guy next to me named Dan asked me to be his partner and I accepted. We each had 10 minutes to draw the other person while at the same time trying not to look down at our paper. It was pretty hard at first but after being told that the point wasn't to be accurate with the positioning of each facial feature, but to get the details, it got easier. Here is an example of what I am talking about:</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpT6VWPJAzOSxsJUkK6Zk4y0TVIK7eOofWJpahopsPczJUIBfOtSClc8Jmdm-vWtYfV0kmCeXYpmCwC_xBelcG5v_3mTdRdXpBvz3tcUh0bWLor7Cg3nndSmOXCG01s4ljb_21XFW5UUs/s1600-h/blind-contour-face.gif" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 372px; height: 400px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpT6VWPJAzOSxsJUkK6Zk4y0TVIK7eOofWJpahopsPczJUIBfOtSClc8Jmdm-vWtYfV0kmCeXYpmCwC_xBelcG5v_3mTdRdXpBvz3tcUh0bWLor7Cg3nndSmOXCG01s4ljb_21XFW5UUs/s400/blind-contour-face.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338768851417782994" /><br /></a><div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></div><br />After drawing with your first partner we were to switch and do it with somebody else. The rules changed the second time, now we were allowed to look at the paper occasionally to put the pencil in the right place. It didn't make the drawing look great, just a little better.</div><div><br /></div><div>My second partner was a girl that was semi-attractive (6.5). She started by drawing me. I didn't mind that she was staring at me for 10 minutes...I'm pretty sure I knew what she was thinking anyway, right? Her drawing was pretty good, except for the undeniable fact that she over-exaggerated on my front teeth. At any case, I was next. While I was drawing I struck up a conversation with her and found out that she was from Jackson Hole, Wyoming. That isn't really important to the story, but it is important to know that we were having a pleasant conversation (you know, one with few awkward moments). Remember that I wasn't looking at the paper the majority of the time that I was drawing. I started with her eyes and then went on to her nose. She had big lips so I made sure to take my time in making them look 10 times bigger. Then, as I was drawing her left cheek I looked down and realized that my pencil and strayed from the line I had intended to draw which made her look bigger than she actually was, I just looked back up at her and said "oops, I made you a fatty." She just looked at me. I think she might have half smiled...or maybe she gave me a dirty look, I don't really remember. I do remember that the "pleasant conversation" turned into no conversation. What made it worse was that I still had 7 minutes left to finish drawing her. I had to stare at her while she modeled for me. It seemed longer (j/k).</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMtpfLkmcODld7derebke8F6A2eSnBPZmS9-pijhBn3hyphenhyphenAloZ0poTfxyKsWyP_p742gyMD5OiZwskSByGKWNVLadKR-Ucttx7xAMhsyogCSGnME5KaMR-rwpj-Q-OL21Qh3Up_FmDhsYk/s1600-h/i-was-an-awkward-kid.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMtpfLkmcODld7derebke8F6A2eSnBPZmS9-pijhBn3hyphenhyphenAloZ0poTfxyKsWyP_p742gyMD5OiZwskSByGKWNVLadKR-Ucttx7xAMhsyogCSGnME5KaMR-rwpj-Q-OL21Qh3Up_FmDhsYk/s320/i-was-an-awkward-kid.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338776681252635186" /></a><div><br /></div><div>I couldn't remember further back than last week. So, when I said that I would start from the present and work my way back...I lied.</div>Jacob Parryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05290520569293588011noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348741655999205516.post-57964240893716391882009-01-14T11:46:00.000-08:002009-01-14T23:38:31.124-08:00Out With The Old; In With The New<img style="text-align: right;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjki-zb4xJl2Ksd-W1rt4deI9ZVYTgwa7oTAUlql3QhCjsvVHTZhBW1DvhubiAovlS-hbX6-ecGhDhPIi5byQBE4fEw6Aynk7qY3YpBK1w7-9yEvCwpNRC_DI7SYkZZUhbb8qquAynmCGw/s400/newyear2008.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291241227018883042" /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Two weeks ago I hit one year of living in Salt Lake City. I have spent the last several minutes thinking about what kinds of things happened during 2008 and I'm pretty sure it was the worst year I have ever lived. That doesn't mean that the whole year was horrible, it just means that most of it was. I don't need to go into detail about it because most of the people that read this blog already know what kinds of crazy things I had to deal with the first several months of last year, but I do want to express some of the great things that happened while I was here in Salt Lake.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I got a job with the biggest valet company here, Valet Parking Services<img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 64px; height: 36px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhI7OaR-oHZfPjtwD00p3ohxWRgu35APOPRDRMUyf7uhOxi_YwR4fE5DiCm9IAt5LejoSxnKJ32ViQ9JSe3fThQaQGXTDY0i5RUtB9V-QbJkHC28K5jPDmhkO6EQcl6-UeweinV08Y4Ac/s400/image001.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291240632397394738" />. On Sunday I reached my year mark in being employed by them. I have really enjoyed my job managing the valet at the world famous Hotel Monaco. I have made friends that are fun to work with and have also helped me learn certain things about myself that have aided me in improving my</div><div> "people skills." I only say this because my "people skills" haven't exactly been great in the past. I am a very patient person most of the time. There are just a few things that I still need to</div><div> work on. I hate it when people ask me if I know how to drive a Toyota Prius.</div><div> </div><div>I also get annoyed when people ask me if they can trade their 1993 Geo Metro for the brand new Chevy Camaro.</div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLc_w_Y_qF-pSirMrpjd-qt_kvCJ_-fRCNO-cpy3CEqcty1CE28cAyepAfsGKGJK7fCtUh8T_tOs2-Wi5NwppwYKcaZmZNmbm4x27LwVfl_b_YGRcdDZPV1u7ejWHxIeLCO_abbVnuFR0/s320/20080429104144594_20084291052581564309-display.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291252143746184322" /><div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgmjyUDRphCIfUvkh7SlFTKj-cKiYt3mgt-c9wpnBmJUJBmX4gOWgSvOWxC-tFK8jlDY14CmF88vYBVcigYYw67tW0iYsadZUmLJb9Lb4JKjKWER9wO_pzt5v4Pkfm1JnEQTnlPxbrPM0/s320/2008_chevrolet_camaro_8.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291250680776152146" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 162px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkrVdQiJXRRBwDZNVbE2RuR4J7eKB77NWyTG0fmw9g3qQjQxTFcgx0IFDN2J_QerjNXw9FOxFlH6tOhyphenhyphenDW7EJ2_Jn6k3S0CvrLMw4jVdcQfu_v955CHBDrp78A53zH7dHVCRNaSCH_83g/s200/AAGE011~University-of-Utah-Logo-Photofile-Posters.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291251486132603378" /><div>I went to school for a semester last year and really enjoyed my time there. I attended the University of Utah in the Communications department studying Public Relations. After</div><div> going for a semester paying out-of-state tuition I decided that it was way too expensive to attend as a non-resident, so I decided to wait until I reached all the requirements to become a</div><div> resident before going back to school. I am still waiting for those requirements to be met but am hopeful that this coming summer I will be a full time student once again.</div><div><br /></div><div>There is a billboard here in Salt Lake that has a picture of Albert Einstein on it...</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 352px; height: 114px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig3MR-0JlptraSHdQY6Iaqcl_QW3ad3o5-s1vuKN-bpOhzIjt99KQiE3SDFzsMq4adu1Raz_CZRrtJb26zFtkkc2W1y1EjpMKFj6gmMUIqizzLZa5p39To720AtA3Nh2y9X7syfLMSz-4/s400/einstein_no_student_1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291247216803906034" /></div><div>When I see it I think about how I am as a student. I don't really consider myself to be a dummy, and even though I don't think I would ever make it in this world without an education, this billboard makes me feel like I could just drop out of school and build atom bombs. Confidence: Pass it On.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Anyways, something else happened last year that was awesome. Audrey got married to a guy that really knows how to handle her very rambunctious (adj.-difficult to control or handle; wildly boisterous) personality. I am really glad that she is happy and has found someone that can take care of her, so that I don't have to anymore, he he.</div><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEEGODzkb9Dtn9xFrBJhjaoheGuzvY_OCfiBiYeOSysgdxG20IW3N2zjw_GgBYImSqDrSCzsDQJjy0JdnAMiLB3V4ZeAybqX7zQFqdjTf5VDwlRNAbXeF7xE9JpzRm9jZOBUqmyaRIMkU/s400/Audrey+044.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291254993171386194" />The year ended really well. I got to go home for a week during Christmas. It was really great to be able to see my family. It isn't often that I get to do that anymore. Zach and his family were down there for a few weeks so I got to spend a little time with my niece and nephew, which was good. They got to meet Santa Claus, who I just recently learned is my dad...cool huh?<div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxCEkcaDXjH3rkRPkJyp2TfPUGtAbQJzVPYMjplgtjbkkQocHMtPaw9buklCyJd8ZBg87fnVFQ_v0twj9wMsbArev8gZsptEVT5M2ozkJqwDAFoKlaYYkMvx58k8bQ-Nx5O-o-vxuOMQE/s1600-h/IMG_0072.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxCEkcaDXjH3rkRPkJyp2TfPUGtAbQJzVPYMjplgtjbkkQocHMtPaw9buklCyJd8ZBg87fnVFQ_v0twj9wMsbArev8gZsptEVT5M2ozkJqwDAFoKlaYYkMvx58k8bQ-Nx5O-o-vxuOMQE/s400/IMG_0072.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291264997045429538" /></a><br /></div><div>The new year has brought me a new opportunity to change. </div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 380px; height: 253px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJY4w9lPmedoVk7U6wB3s4PweutL7JXEMG3FhK18R5E6gfnfBjtkTGOKYsy2-LWtDJ5859L7lZpa6whcAwfJTwtP6MnmG7lg12E04CuL-Aho8OQ1oXLr0f9-rz9HXtMn40gU6Vv3Rhn6Y/s400/ist2_6149793-happy-new-year-2009.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291261210537876834" /><div>I have really wanted to become a nicer person. I read through all the journals that I own and found that being nicer has been a goal of mine every year for the good part of the last decade. A code has been put in place for all who want to help me follow though with my goal this year. If I am ever being mean to you, all you have to say is "2009 is your year." When I hear this phrase I will do one of two things, I will either explain why I think you are wrong in thinking I am mean, or I will instantly apologize.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I spent the first few hours of the new year with friends that I have made in my ward. Some of those that were present were Bitty Engstrom and Carlee Jenkins, who have found themselves on my top 5 list of people I enjoy spending time with. Now that I have announced that I have a top 5 list of people I enjoy spending my time with some of you might be asking yourselves who is #1 on that list...well, it's no riddle.</div><div><div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdtopvke2SjTQmE-Eq1rIsnDnY4GJxBojGHqz3PQwQYuSUyv-hGWinPN9Qf2GCelStrHIx8sjdPXHN9N_k8OTZJC3G05zZ1nJXyzSGsnw7tdkmaRTFEwKi5VAo_E3mNEFRm_BiTuBtVAk/s1600-h/IMG_0416.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span><img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdtopvke2SjTQmE-Eq1rIsnDnY4GJxBojGHqz3PQwQYuSUyv-hGWinPN9Qf2GCelStrHIx8sjdPXHN9N_k8OTZJC3G05zZ1nJXyzSGsnw7tdkmaRTFEwKi5VAo_E3mNEFRm_BiTuBtVAk/s400/IMG_0416.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291263874010981922" /></a><div>...or is it?</div>Jacob Parryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05290520569293588011noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348741655999205516.post-18571994702513548792008-11-18T09:14:00.001-08:002008-11-22T22:50:06.095-08:00What Happens in Vegas...<div>After 4 1/2 months of not being home, I decided that it was about time I pay my family a visit. After learning about a friend's (Bryan Weiderholt) missionary farewell, I decided that would be the perfect time for me to get down to Las Vegas.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was accompanied by Laura Riddle, a girl from my ward who I thoroughly enjoy spending time with. </div><div><br /></div><div>We left around 12:00pm on Friday, November 14th. Our first stop was in Provo to have lunch at the house of Laura's parents, or Laura's parent's house, or the house where Laura's parents reside. In any case, I got to meet her parents and eat a free meal. I couldn't have asked for more.</div><div> <img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6riw-tlnc6hCK7dz82rokvCIBVYbmGxCFFbez5tMFz0GTbkCltLvl3z7UEUsWy7-3Kde8uKRMad3o74WsJKuRts2xXHwP13PIHJz1SXm6LjdWCwj66uBWSQqvDiWzc2KgFW-FiqFm00E/s400/IMG_0035.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270049529095196514" /><br /></div><div>After a couple of hours of fun conversation and laughter, we left Provo to continue our journey to Sin City. One more stop in Cedar City for some gas, Gatorade and milk duds and we were on our way. After a good 6 hours of travel, we arrived at our destination, Las Vegas. Our first order of business...<a href="http://www.in-n-out.com/">In n Out</a>. We had been waiting all day to experience the "quality you can taste." After 60 years, they still know how to make the best hamburgers.</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNdZ9cdseRYy1ZZBz01_jKzQyG8ZNWUcR7lJocaaNoxL1dtoWX4Y-M61oZBRYvUsfZ3vsM26K3OWOsDIX1OjWCf3l4QecIZvwS4U7_cGxOnKKT6OzOcGktTu5q8NL8RUhD0w5vbzT1cSI/s400/IMG_0041.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270047889023760082" /> <img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMFcJPKPOPRu0s3Cx2GaPC-ZYG4xmWJjWLDYH8xajr99bg5aafdvZX_BFDWxsf-vB-FNKAPCoKeCZiNxN0_KJtbvHUGdcDAjpsLl28XhRXVq55PMbSj488fqYXx2aYXWE5zzLPBu_CY9A/s400/IMG_0040.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270048743382695234" /> <br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">After spoiling our appetites we drove the 2 miles over to my house were Laura got the amazing opportunity and privilege of meeting my parents. We all sat in the family room while my mom and dad took turns asking the normal get-to-know-you and how-was-the-drive questions. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">After the interrogation we decided to do the normal touristy stuff, so we went to the strip and watched a few of the fountain shows at the Bellagio and then went to check out the FAO Schwartz at the Caesar's Palace. It was about that time that we realized that we were really tired, which drove us to drive home and go to bed.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The next morning started early...8:00 am. We got up to head over to the Henderson Executive Airport where my dad's plane is kept. Once the plane was fueled up and ready to go, we took off and enjoyed about an hour of flying over the barren wasteland called Nevada. We then headed back and ate breakfast at the local Dennys, where, if you were wondering, I got a "build your own slam" with bacon, eggs, toast, biscuit, and hash browns. It was good, okay?</div><div style="text-align: left;"> <img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI0FsE4P4BkRLQD8yiiKH2I0jcqNnHrA0RFImpJ7ii1uOZF51C4ipWU6xr2FtvXf5c_NJ6xKtpJzs0LFljQ5yNWN2YBzmxKLTiIau2H1dVK7SAjjYiiggWotiw8NA_GafLpdNrEsSqVi8/s400/IMG_0044.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270049650796857474" /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">We had a lot of time to waste before the farewell the next day so we went and played some miniature golf over at King Putt. You can look at the score card, but don't be fooled... even though it might look like we tied, it turns out that I don't know how to count and I ended up winning by one stroke. Sorry Laura...you shouldn't have doubted my ability to add. Right when we got home Laura felt like she needed to beat me is something, so we pulled out Scrabble. It was in the darkest corner of our game closet and probably hadn't been used in a decade or two. We played a nice game in which I won by two points. It's a good thing Laura was keeping score, because if it were me who knows who would have won.</div><div><br /></div><div> <img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 184px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLOAPlyM5IKUjoOBUyPVBgmogRZeph_M_VHTrmqdKYv19HBZ9PjjYT4Sdgtrx0hHlRrGclLUbv1khvFvBpohOE92nB2z9f5NTUc8rXIAQOQ3UknysAW9tLd675pqUGtybqhcYz-JI7ef8/s400/King+Putt.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270052129820579730" /> <img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8E-n_5gIWdMw5n1_1k4Ecb5erOl2ep1TF3iDYd5w2ymYzY3BcxRK6GZ9jaZk6L7-IgdxMtVwoNyBKwnWLF33tKyG-92V-OIzhFVDHZwxAewanSN9EAFK2h5Ag2ELcLoz6Mn_KenBBYEU/s400/IMG_0045.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270051222974461362" /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>If you want to know which words were mine and which were hers, you may call me and ask me. I would be happy to tell you.</div><div><br /></div><div>We filled the rest of our night with hanging out with Evan Smith and Melissa Something. Evan was one of my best friends growing up and Melissa was one of Laura's mission friends that now lives in Las Vegas. </div><div><br /></div><div>Sunday came and we invited Nate Nead, Bryan Weiderholt, and Tyler Crawford over for French toast. We had a good time chatting and reminiscing over old memories that we shared while we all were living there.</div><div><br /></div><div>We were ready for church really early and were kind of anxious to go (Well, I was. I can't imagine Laura being too excited about going to a ward where she doesn't know anyone).</div><div><br /></div><div>We only stayed for Sacrament Meeting and then went back to Mom and Dad's to eat and drive home. We did take a walk while waiting for dinner to be ready, that is when I took this picture that looks like Laura is leading a blind version of me. </div><div><br /></div><div> <img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0f3peilrcEpS29q4jTU7eloikyErb1SX5_3v9eVoUyXaAKfNm-TihccPQy1XB03zBXQ9lCMhtTqntl-9b5d7DIM_4jsCCudQEOm0wnVUUZP9eWrR5wUIfiNW64NC69ItLvYCdsAYuY-g/s400/IMG_0053.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270050223411903842" /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The trip home was long. I think I would have fallen asleep if Laura hadn't been there to poke me every time I blinked. We got home safely, which is what I'm sure all of you were waiting to hear.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yeah Boyee!!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span>Jacob Parryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05290520569293588011noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348741655999205516.post-2378338793707243752008-10-10T10:39:00.000-07:002008-10-10T12:03:13.698-07:00My Mission HomeToday marks two years home from the mission, some would call it my "mission home." Here are a few of the events that transpired during that monumental time:<div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyP2-DFadJxwzG-tPizI0WZZakjCKVjyfBe-N64whOmurpftZ23X8lt7WM6WOjGq-ApmOJhLIPvs7toVkXRehbnR1W6Xd2KrZd4M9oh3rxpZ-5aDgeuMjyxcZ1x7v0EDSXscESQ4ceiOs/s400/With+Nicaraguan+Family.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255602481519209730" /><br /></div><div>Right before I left Nicaragua I was in a hotel with my parents who had come down to pick me up. They were trying to get to sleep in order to be ready for our 5:15am flight. I was a couple floors above them in Elder Hyde's room with him and Elder Shaeffer. We were reflecting upon the two years that we had just spent in the country that we not only loved, but that we were about to leave. It was a very emotional time filled with laughing and crying and some other things that can't be mentioned at this time. While we were sharing our experiences and growing more close to each other than ever before, the phone rang. We looked at eachother and then at the clock... 3:00am. After the second ring Elder Hyde asnwered with a quiet "Hello" and a slight pause, then he looked at me and held out the phone. I picked it up with what I'm sure was a very perplexed look and then with a quiet "Hello" I found that the person on the other end was my dad. He wasn't very happy with the fact that I wasn't back at the room, in fact, I would go as far to say that I was "in trouble." Can you believe it? I was 21 years old and just 4 days earlier my parents saw me for the first time in the two years that I was gone, you would think they would give me a little slack. I was told to get back to the room immediately. Without another word I hung up and went and did that which my father had commanded me. Obedience was at that time ingrained on my soul.</div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcJlJhSKQoO20bnR6K4LbAyd3fmA2_aMulgiwRappqeyvJgNqEE0W7EVSB7GjkiHyb2YpE8MqNh9i4FvnSzzmmtDwlHoKrr2GvEo7YS410bbjDy0QylpjROQb9gRZ5ICS3HbzHf1cqlf8/s400/DSC00191.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255602487499865826" /><br /></div><div>The next day came very quickly. All the missionaries that I would be going home with would be at the airport in Managua waiting, just like me, to board the plane and head home. You could feel the anxiety and nerves of all the other Elders who were feeling scared and excited all at the same time to be home. It wouldn't be more than 10 hours before I would be back in Las Vegas. But first, we had to stop in Miami. As I wondered around the airport in the city we knew as the front door to the U.S. (Miami) remembering what it was like to be on United States soil, tears came to my eyes as I witnessed the exchange of dollars at the Burger King. It was hard to believe that this world still existed, the world that I had left behind so long before. It was neat.</div><div><br /></div><div>I left Miami after a couple hours of exploring. This is when I parted ways with the Elders that I had grown to love on the mission. It wouldn't be until the following April at General Conference that I would see them again.</div><div><br /></div><div>Las Vegas came into view around 3:00pm of that same day. My eyes widened and my gaze couldn't be broken from this city of sin that I knew as home. I sat silently in my seat during the landing and I slowly got off the plane with thoughts of seeing my friends and family again. It was on the escalator when I first met everyone's eyes looking at me with the biggest smiles never before seen, as if they were genuinely glad to see me... I was home.</div><div><br /></div><div>The next couple of weeks were filled with confusion and depression. I didn't like being so free, free to do whatever I wanted. I could wake up whenever I wanted and go places by myself. It was weird. It took several months to really feel comfortable in "the world," but it happened. Now, I am two years away from those days. In writing this post I have realized a few things, but the thing that has really hit me the hardest is knowing that in the last two years I have wasted more time than any other time in my entire life. The last two years have been filled with some of the dumbest things ever! Hopefully the next two years will be more fulfilling, right? Ha ha!</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCKPWTxiXIh0gHjF9F0P1XxhVA3BYCgUbQFZZpmceATPu2awvuvH6xah5Gg46GejdpOigMwPlkEA_-EC1_g4znEqdAHGnI7DKQuuh56FRMa6J3fkzUpczU9MJEcP-kWhVzHwpO5cqSudA/s1600-h/Michael+and+Jacob.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCKPWTxiXIh0gHjF9F0P1XxhVA3BYCgUbQFZZpmceATPu2awvuvH6xah5Gg46GejdpOigMwPlkEA_-EC1_g4znEqdAHGnI7DKQuuh56FRMa6J3fkzUpczU9MJEcP-kWhVzHwpO5cqSudA/s400/Michael+and+Jacob.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255602479741660770" /></a><br /></div><div>Anyways, Happy Anniversary all you missionaries that came home with me! Shout out to MTC District 52a!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Jacob Parryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05290520569293588011noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348741655999205516.post-22640687066382907422008-10-02T13:10:00.000-07:002008-10-02T13:58:55.074-07:0023 And Still Single...You Should Try It, It's fun!Yesterday was my birthday. I am now 23 years old. Weeee!! Pretty crazy huh?<br /><br />I went through some of my old journal entries to see what I was doing on past birthdays and came accross some pretty funny pages. If fact, I decided to share these pages with all who fall upon this page. As you will probably see, two of the three pages are from my mission. the other one was when I turned 12. I was going to put in the page from a year ago, but it was too embarrassing, so I didn't.<img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXwdz9xk0mvkOpRSMuuqTJwstgIq-e42_IaG4Uh7h4eJHItFn_KHYA2Klo0ER_Gjjt0qP0BFIzZRgLE9GsdauirQIC8ALPj-crBuJguuk6puvBMChrMZV2hugd3j7FAhXsEKq_pmgUhlo/s400/sc007c096e.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252652828023628466" /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLK2afmyRVJWF1YvjcWJSgykLjeQ19ZnKmwIA_oFpkJxdD2aopgea-DQ7SLNj8FViO6Euapc5Q5PQOL40g3DdJmCH0r6hqNeBBs3Ul-hu-RwELqjTDKl0j7ME4m4GBF7I3-BnwSlDwZNY/s400/sc007d1199.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252652830801274050" /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj43rhzDC7PwBXmlx4nV3LcE413WhF_Up54fysXR4YRM4zzVUfEM16JpYbHwFYvunjyEdkzBoEoo8385gDuNkpaedmr64QZ4vUmhmWZQ4baZUqzhb4kKgOynEowGiyopbGvGH89pqNORsY/s400/sc007d357c.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252652835629144418" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Kinda boring huh? I thought it was fun to see what was going on.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I was going to upload a picture of my 14th birthday party, but it wouldn't upload...sorry.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I did, however, find a picture where I am at a birthday gathering, I believe it is Audreys...I only say that because she looks way too happy for it to be someone else's. Also, the cake is right in front of her. I like this picture because it looks like I am smoking a marijuana cigarette.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxFq4ETH990IUfW4UNKaXHnrzZTSUi1V47ldQXMqqdxQG8xdCJEGZCZwyR76r8J7qOUJI4Fv_90rh4E2tZysMsgUtPt3JykWfECATJe7PdVzmQ_ASK5mVH8xp3c5kvsDeDVli1spePTdA/s1600-h/n705685743_226440_1290.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxFq4ETH990IUfW4UNKaXHnrzZTSUi1V47ldQXMqqdxQG8xdCJEGZCZwyR76r8J7qOUJI4Fv_90rh4E2tZysMsgUtPt3JykWfECATJe7PdVzmQ_ASK5mVH8xp3c5kvsDeDVli1spePTdA/s400/n705685743_226440_1290.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252661805066277970" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Anyways, I threw a birthday party for myself. I bought some trick candles so that at least some part of my birthday had a surprise, even though I wasn't the one getting surprised. I called almost everyone I knew that was around and willing to come, I even called some people who were unwilling to come, I even didn't call some people that were willing to come...and did. The point is that I had some of my friends stop by for some cake and ice cream. My roommate (Nate) and I prepared (he baked it and I frosted it) the cake. The party wasn't anything spectacular, just a little something that I put together so that everyone who wanted to, could come over and let me know how much they love me, thats it. Here are some pictures:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm5ymE-Rb00rXu9nMF0BbEzNkl9jLbSnHpwP1FUnLFjwL3iEpQKAkgWV9AA4oudWoJOYi3is-xBiu59LOrvYgQAmPUvskJ67OEmLj8dIfRMkrLPt-d_hqT333i9rjCIzrHzxePImCDWuU/s1600-h/DSC00203.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm5ymE-Rb00rXu9nMF0BbEzNkl9jLbSnHpwP1FUnLFjwL3iEpQKAkgWV9AA4oudWoJOYi3is-xBiu59LOrvYgQAmPUvskJ67OEmLj8dIfRMkrLPt-d_hqT333i9rjCIzrHzxePImCDWuU/s400/DSC00203.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252657241312755586" /><span><span></span></span><br /></a><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline; ">Me with Lauren Rice and Shelby there in the back</span></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-cqy4aE3rAp2VNmTjevqZZPylVLB2MulDDQWrVmDgtCBTwzM7Btzol7tVXCxvsDHzFkITHJCZo-ejvs-3yRFIVA3dXGlwaY5DXZhZhPZ4EUW9PVDNHCcZ4y8IZ8VAikgJUWJGFIWoxx0/s1600-h/DSC00198.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-cqy4aE3rAp2VNmTjevqZZPylVLB2MulDDQWrVmDgtCBTwzM7Btzol7tVXCxvsDHzFkITHJCZo-ejvs-3yRFIVA3dXGlwaY5DXZhZhPZ4EUW9PVDNHCcZ4y8IZ8VAikgJUWJGFIWoxx0/s400/DSC00198.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252657247508946370" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">A few peeps and the awesome cake</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP6Cuk8sB8UWXAySUyT32XiInepzdwOmjcJ604FmiOKZWFVFM-z489Sx_u1kB6kEEZwEHYDgG8qeOGXOUupkDNggGHxQf-ozgAAn8mrM5adjBC4whPefxUiQxmyvG5oORQ8OWd3bgS70I/s1600-h/DSC00193.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP6Cuk8sB8UWXAySUyT32XiInepzdwOmjcJ604FmiOKZWFVFM-z489Sx_u1kB6kEEZwEHYDgG8qeOGXOUupkDNggGHxQf-ozgAAn8mrM5adjBC4whPefxUiQxmyvG5oORQ8OWd3bgS70I/s400/DSC00193.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252657248421963458" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Nate in white, Shelby in blue, Mike in Red, and Leana in the Jeans</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDBlMExh5bGA5CW5XT1WrUmK5yfU6qhg-5NJ-wJWfyiOTArlakZNHs4zbzyYpxem9JI44N-KdlasUKw3WjV3krWDi_bVHXZpaLwYDqj7VDzkFk8oraCrLs5NO_VfmqSaEDnj9fulXDFUg/s1600-h/DSC00194.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDBlMExh5bGA5CW5XT1WrUmK5yfU6qhg-5NJ-wJWfyiOTArlakZNHs4zbzyYpxem9JI44N-KdlasUKw3WjV3krWDi_bVHXZpaLwYDqj7VDzkFk8oraCrLs5NO_VfmqSaEDnj9fulXDFUg/s400/DSC00194.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252657253050322130" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I'm making my wish</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Anyways, I had a really good time and I am glad that I have friends that are so giving of there time to come over and celebrate such an uneventful occasion with me. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Thanks to all that called, texted, facebook messaged, or however else you might have expressed your wishes to me. I love you all. Even you Dad...I know you were at least thinking about me, or does Mom do that for you too? ha ha, J/K.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div>Jacob Parryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05290520569293588011noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348741655999205516.post-85144262869146802112008-08-05T11:49:00.000-07:002008-12-09T15:40:42.103-08:00Super Capacious Titanic Elephantine Economy-Sized Ward ActivityThis past weekend was the "Super Capacious Titanic Elephantine Economy-Sized Ward Activity" and the following post will be describing the merrymaking that was had:<div><br /></div><div>It all started for me at 6:00pm when I arrived at the A street chapel. We were instructed to meet there if we were going to be carpooling up to the place where the fun would take place. It was up at a cabin in Heber City owned by the one and only Brother Brown.</div><div><br /></div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUDA-USezRGu0SeAm6fmDbokNS78in2pPZlEKT97ZvfKN2Oge8MGq5P59ZjM4B73EYkXlaJQLbItXe0oP-5nvohOOSUma96CNXWxQe2BtyQ9Qg7w8T_WoNG09iIuAgqyv6gMjwudqOyYM/s400/DSC03901.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231109824295006338" /><div>When I got to the Chapel to meet with the others who were ready and waiting to go, people were already taking pictures like crazy. You can tell by our faces that we were anxious to get going. We all loaded up the truck with our sleeping bags and pillows and after waiting about 20 minutes for the stragglers we set out on the 1.5 hour journey. I was one of the driver</div><div>s so I grabbed my three passengers and we took off for Heber City. </div><div><br /></div><div>The drive was filled with fun little activities that brought everyone in the car just a little bit closer to each other. </div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0PDFnCXmgatCNGB1OJ7BKOl9b8ADkK5aC_IJyEzrxhvRQ-1XVW7pltFFHv1UwXnSdFwu6Ewxb_neuhc6AB1iqhVRBrBHZLdxbN2c_XGOq9NqbmUMbx-788R4LOK44cxIOv2XMYaSwpnY/s400/DSC03904.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231111692938492802" /><div>We even played a game of "Name That Tune" with the winner going home with a whole dollar to spend on whatever and wherever they felt fit. The winner was the lovely Shelby Castleton, who was the first person to get 15 points (or something...I stopped counting) The other two passengers who sat in the back (Marliette and Bob) accumulated a whole point together, can we have a round of applause for the two musically ill-informed? J/K, I like them.</div><div><br /></div><div>As we reached the parking area for the people who aren't important enough to park up at the actual cabin we (the four passengers of my car) were separated into two different cars and shuttled up. When we reached the cabin we were instructed to unload everything and go eat dinner. Now, dinner was very different than any other ward activity dinner that I'm sure anyone has ever had.</div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk1vKbkXS-wYmJuehWUW2zPVAS-OerQ0Slo27oZlk0Zb9aW9mDCYfs8i-flOTnnKUp_QoU8UNOyypsSQ2vmqZODiT6Fy0ILUijmlUOExTPoTY4KKwZDkPUkYlADrZvgCweTrZSvKx6Npk/s400/DSC03905.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231118969288165554" /><div> The ward brought Cafe Rio to us. As we got to the buffet table, immediately it felt like we were in line at Cafe Rio, but this time the sneeze guard was gone and we were preparing our own chicken and pork salads. Yeah, it was that good. After dinner everyone dispersed and started to inhabit every possible room in this four story cabin to start playing and mingling and just having a gay old time. For the next several hours I spent time playing ping pong, foosball, wii, and a plethora of card games.It wasn't until about midnight that people started to get really tired. In fact, that was about the time that I pulled out two dollars and decided to get a group of people together to play another game of "Name That Tune" with the winner taking home a whole dollar to spend on whatever and wherever they felt fit. This time I was the singer belting out the tunes. After a few of songs were guessed I couldn't think of any more songs so I told the players that the next person to guess the next song would be declared as the winner. The winner of the dollar was the lovely Shelby Castleton, yet again. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0lxbk0f6ePnXObbLI38azvCgm60EkVZ_3_z-CE5-yZ2wnKXHwotw_3U7-tmy7NyBk-Ap3VNYuITJYGGYxWlFADIMEZLnSoVW2qEwvoghTujMu0M5mMKoX3SYJh864Ac2AJODkEabTvFc/s1600-h/DSC03930.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0lxbk0f6ePnXObbLI38azvCgm60EkVZ_3_z-CE5-yZ2wnKXHwotw_3U7-tmy7NyBk-Ap3VNYuITJYGGYxWlFADIMEZLnSoVW2qEwvoghTujMu0M5mMKoX3SYJh864Ac2AJODkEabTvFc/s400/DSC03930.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231121516001590162" /></a><br /></div><div>The other dollar was rewarded to the person that could get to 5 points first in a game I like to call "Who can guess closest to the record in the 2008 Guiness Book of World Records without going over." We went through several categories including biggest food items, tallest buildings, and all around weird crap. It was a really long game. In the event that every player would guess over the actual number I would get a point. I believe I had 3 points when someone reached 5. So I didn't get to keep the dollar, but that is okay. I actually don't even remember who it was that won, but that isn't that important, what is important is that we had fun.</div><div><br /></div><div>A little earlier we also had a nice prayer meeting in the woods. We had a little make-shift fire that kept us all so warm. The bishop shared a few thoughts with us and ended by telling a very convincing story that ended making half the people who were in attendance almost pee their pants while the other half just screamed like little girls. </div><div><br /></div><div>At 1:00am the boys in the ward were asked to go the a cabin just down the road to spend the night. Breakfast was at 9:00am. We had pancakes and other normal breakfast foods like eggs, and hash browns. It was quite good, really.</div><div><br /></div><div>After breakfast we had a few hours for more fun time. A group gathered together down in the woody area that was used for the prayer meeting and organized a talent show that really just ended up having a girl named Francine show us her Karate moves. We even got a little clip to prove that nobody, including me, should mess with her:</div><div><br /></div><div><embed id="VideoPlayback" style="width:400px;height:326px" allowfullscreen="true" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docid=2078179419646276140&hl=en&fs=true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed><br /></div><div>The taller blonde girl in the video is Nicole, she is the only one who successfully took Francine to the ground. Anyways, after I got my trash kicked by Francine we decided to learn a dance that Marliette had learned at EFY. It was one of the gayest moments of my life.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyg_JyIym_PNggUgh8DZ2BrYhH3XgMRWJWJCfhc2s8Y4Ip8DgK6KQ7Z0BxIe7JN6aKROdiQmpWIt0M9hXJF_W2mEEHSEDJUzvBV609_seo2I2hnVsLd2hMAfKEadL0HuR6jlifY6HzKGE/s1600-h/DSC03963.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyg_JyIym_PNggUgh8DZ2BrYhH3XgMRWJWJCfhc2s8Y4Ip8DgK6KQ7Z0BxIe7JN6aKROdiQmpWIt0M9hXJF_W2mEEHSEDJUzvBV609_seo2I2hnVsLd2hMAfKEadL0HuR6jlifY6HzKGE/s400/DSC03963.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231126281464077746" /></a><div><br /></div><div>After the dance dance revolution we went back up to the cabin to finish our morning with a game of Scum, which is a pretty fun card game.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLNHEYKiEj_EZ5FELzQjOmTDvqCt_n0gwD3uyJkkhaKScuIpAbSu39cX99VxOGS7Drn9CyUQNP24zwphJI9M-1aUVk8QJ1mQQErDgXa3-jOmsGqGFf-dMUhhwUmCLyum4opTv7yG5hWQI/s1600-h/DSC03965.JPG"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLNHEYKiEj_EZ5FELzQjOmTDvqCt_n0gwD3uyJkkhaKScuIpAbSu39cX99VxOGS7Drn9CyUQNP24zwphJI9M-1aUVk8QJ1mQQErDgXa3-jOmsGqGFf-dMUhhwUmCLyum4opTv7yG5hWQI/s400/DSC03965.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231132030010488754" /></a><div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>We then cleaned up the cabin and headed back to Heber City for lunch at The Dairy Keen. It wasn't that good, so I won't take anymore time talking about it.</div><div><br /></div><div>One of the best parts of this activity was the hike that we did up in Sundance. We took the lift up to the top of the mountain and started to hike towards Stewart Falls and then back down to the lodge.</div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguKdp7WCYDSj5S8WDhshCtG9lkmBn5muIJk1kV39nlYC5ymgRX_M6cWS5JfSxjvm-Ltjwgvs-8fUxglPRSfjhsrJu8GGENEHzEObxnr7YpAVdYc8mNpnlomu7kurDH-My2GBbAQl6rynY/s1600-h/DSC03990.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguKdp7WCYDSj5S8WDhshCtG9lkmBn5muIJk1kV39nlYC5ymgRX_M6cWS5JfSxjvm-Ltjwgvs-8fUxglPRSfjhsrJu8GGENEHzEObxnr7YpAVdYc8mNpnlomu7kurDH-My2GBbAQl6rynY/s400/DSC03990.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231133972445997410" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjumdf3lYKag_b6AQYW7deNIr-91ezH0K8ArwxvvsPQQGuu0KauxAWxcLkfhsJWkzowUg0eDRTO-viKqZaxet0aZDh0yni8VpaLV7zssDPRf2qQZgwk_jXFN8V6UTW9Tu3zB3uJHhLH5CU/s1600-h/DSC03996.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjumdf3lYKag_b6AQYW7deNIr-91ezH0K8ArwxvvsPQQGuu0KauxAWxcLkfhsJWkzowUg0eDRTO-viKqZaxet0aZDh0yni8VpaLV7zssDPRf2qQZgwk_jXFN8V6UTW9Tu3zB3uJHhLH5CU/s400/DSC03996.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231133977274718450" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtmSM_JuwiX1SRAlr4igSUsWch4ZNRr8i3TzmyHs96EKtV2L114rjuL46pn-ng1SpWYYxG9nTjKkETfc4NZdeEE6BL3vxYICFNf-Zzz2wPwktOKb3m2hGhP2SobCoSqXu5lm4Zlp8cD8o/s1600-h/DSC04025.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtmSM_JuwiX1SRAlr4igSUsWch4ZNRr8i3TzmyHs96EKtV2L114rjuL46pn-ng1SpWYYxG9nTjKkETfc4NZdeEE6BL3vxYICFNf-Zzz2wPwktOKb3m2hGhP2SobCoSqXu5lm4Zlp8cD8o/s400/DSC04025.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231133978011119042" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXWBSTJWQ5xsZE8vQznCgbPNQTDZRZUXkgBdYRC5NNIRmD-HCLG6ONHbwG2xWemmDMV6XxiJpjBIaC3eCGXift44C2las2C68Wcog2-ztEUoKebcLjhusiLEvx7kPZ7doHtyt1hqPaa7A/s1600-h/DSC04019.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXWBSTJWQ5xsZE8vQznCgbPNQTDZRZUXkgBdYRC5NNIRmD-HCLG6ONHbwG2xWemmDMV6XxiJpjBIaC3eCGXift44C2las2C68Wcog2-ztEUoKebcLjhusiLEvx7kPZ7doHtyt1hqPaa7A/s400/DSC04019.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231133988272747394" /></a>After the hike ended, I had to head back to Salt Lake to get ready for work. It was a bummer that I had to leave, because I missed out on the last part of the activity which was dinner and a show. Oh well.<div><br /></div><div>That was my weekend. Lots of fun was had and I met a lot of new people who are now my friends. Who could ask for more?</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF-6gHiKbCJdzrS5milv1o_2RcaQ27f5ZTAxFQ05wC9VyKOYsyS-RQjfAFIZkY_0iuk8k3u5_RHFlPydT5fxWycNNm9kUQdJo4LWmKlDgdlqRqh_5AmjfBjBejJPViJdjNqfnaK2Bd8zA/s1600-h/DSC03967.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF-6gHiKbCJdzrS5milv1o_2RcaQ27f5ZTAxFQ05wC9VyKOYsyS-RQjfAFIZkY_0iuk8k3u5_RHFlPydT5fxWycNNm9kUQdJo4LWmKlDgdlqRqh_5AmjfBjBejJPViJdjNqfnaK2Bd8zA/s400/DSC03967.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231135473803961010" /></a><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">All pictures were provided by Shelby Castleton©.</span></div>Jacob Parryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05290520569293588011noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348741655999205516.post-77506024794412974702008-07-13T23:15:00.000-07:002008-12-09T15:40:43.050-08:00Bridges and BirthdaysThis past week has been a very eventful one. I decided last Tuesday that I was going to build a bridge (this last line has been a great conversations starter). Anyways, last week I got into a deep conversation about the physics behind the building of brides, which turned into a conversation about contests where people build bridges and then compete with others to see how much weight their bridge can hold. You can look <a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=vVO9w4KiKTE&feature=related">here</a> to see one of those contests in action. Well, after a lot of thought and a trip to Michael's, I decided to build a bridge. My bridge, however, will not be participating in any contests due to the fact that it isn't being built for that purpose. I am going to build a bridge that is going to look awesome. Here, in fact, is a picture of what my bridge is going to look like:<br /><br /><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyh5Jkmwlk2W9iILl9Ikok4I7OZEjITX5C4CXwFqA-rPQcsetgHrkVlcZQgScD6o3QE9I_1RDWxtfygz6c19dNTJ976syopIvMN0f4dAAMsOovxL3wL5eci2NgvIvN7zJNw6j_hVfapTQ/s400/Photo-0038.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222756795655485170" />The picture of the bridge that is drawn in red was the original idea, but as I got deeper into the construction and study of bridges I decided to go with something a little more intricate, and that is when I decided to go with the second drawing, which is in black. I was looking at different bridges online and decided that the London Bridge gave me the most inspiration. If you want to see what the London Bridge looks like, you can click <a href="http://mail.aurora.edu/~rfraniuk/London_bridge.jpg">here</a>.<div><br /></div><div>The next few pictures are different phases that I have gone through to get to where I am at. The first picture is showing what the table looked like right before I started working. You will see two pictures of different bridges in this picture, they were just to help me understand a little bit on how the columns were to be constructed.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu2ZEWrXk71MwjXTEAYRHF-16duA7T6nP5ytHdxLSyd8Z7pbBZUwgl9I1-Pxk5zWq_oqkZ2zFdtTqj4JJrSkF_ybelqpMwjyiCjLv8O79q-NZUu86KCpVBXO3v1sUzVQjyO-vsJM5dUzA/s1600-h/Photo-0033.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu2ZEWrXk71MwjXTEAYRHF-16duA7T6nP5ytHdxLSyd8Z7pbBZUwgl9I1-Pxk5zWq_oqkZ2zFdtTqj4JJrSkF_ybelqpMwjyiCjLv8O79q-NZUu86KCpVBXO3v1sUzVQjyO-vsJM5dUzA/s400/Photo-0033.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222757051144939522" /></a><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYXWSC6FOZ2WDADuzNzZv0pqDFvQ94sm9fcs7-YdSSHgM2NDXIdTn9-R_cr6Ng2aFfymtsH5rBJiSXtwlAI9DVr5vzsFsa0ckFGeva2tONMQ4nnoh353EkwhMLnfVyi4ND7IYaYi1254c/s1600-h/Photo-0034.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYXWSC6FOZ2WDADuzNzZv0pqDFvQ94sm9fcs7-YdSSHgM2NDXIdTn9-R_cr6Ng2aFfymtsH5rBJiSXtwlAI9DVr5vzsFsa0ckFGeva2tONMQ4nnoh353EkwhMLnfVyi4ND7IYaYi1254c/s400/Photo-0034.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222757055382815746" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Phase One: Columns</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ-ttNJVvI6WFk9vs-GrggPe3XVccB_x4zpdYG_iS6nFtaVygvqAAz7S-pLZAIX4MPusWOV53IOHtJCtWhSveaKRQIgRSVHpX2TJiZ8U9O3w6LMruJjQAQdYKcnV_Jdqnhy2IGkLyARsg/s1600-h/Photo-0036.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ-ttNJVvI6WFk9vs-GrggPe3XVccB_x4zpdYG_iS6nFtaVygvqAAz7S-pLZAIX4MPusWOV53IOHtJCtWhSveaKRQIgRSVHpX2TJiZ8U9O3w6LMruJjQAQdYKcnV_Jdqnhy2IGkLyARsg/s400/Photo-0036.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222757059571116354" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Phase 2: Connecting the columns <br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJis7HuXzSxHbtNVqHMGugSjfXTxlFxFB2IsGf1i00-jcHtaPageko9_GM3TLHF2Ys5v8NliTtMKFQmC6iWG8ZXXOeusd40B7THzsml7ICshAjvC7fjwCXiWA5xf_32Ob57ZcA17IEM7M/s1600-h/Photo-0037.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJis7HuXzSxHbtNVqHMGugSjfXTxlFxFB2IsGf1i00-jcHtaPageko9_GM3TLHF2Ys5v8NliTtMKFQmC6iWG8ZXXOeusd40B7THzsml7ICshAjvC7fjwCXiWA5xf_32Ob57ZcA17IEM7M/s400/Photo-0037.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222757057194144322" /></a><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Phase 3: Arch support<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU_OhXzclugbgM5-QbBQCrJs1KX3pd-BLGUvISFY_h2RvxvSNLbH5AcHBaVAnD-yUFcxh2FKUglO1X9y2seF3qfXBScgB1cvpsoaZofqRUlH7wHnLDe0fWYRHksD4xWszVwbu3yCx0nws/s1600-h/Photo-0040.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU_OhXzclugbgM5-QbBQCrJs1KX3pd-BLGUvISFY_h2RvxvSNLbH5AcHBaVAnD-yUFcxh2FKUglO1X9y2seF3qfXBScgB1cvpsoaZofqRUlH7wHnLDe0fWYRHksD4xWszVwbu3yCx0nws/s400/Photo-0040.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222985468830045778" /></a><br />I know it doesn't look like much now, but this is only the beginning. This bridge is going to look amazing. If you noticed in the very first picture, the bridge that I am planning on building has a drawbridge. Well, I will have you know that my bridge will also have a working drawbridge. I just have to figure out how to build a cranking type system first. It is going to be cool. I'm pretty sure it is going to be my new coffee table ornament. </div><div><br /></div><div>Now, Like Zach mentioned in his latest post, <a href="http://veryparry.blogspot.com/2008/07/happy-birthday-harrison-ford.html">here</a>, it is was my Aunt Connie's birthday today. She was nice enough to invite me to her birthday party for cake and ice cream. I wish I could have gotten a picture of her, but I didn't. Fortunately, I didn't come home empty handed, because I got a snap shot of my Grandma wearing some pretty stylish sun glasses, as you can see here:</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFnMx9Lu5GiiPOZ01sjsH8YFIwDHF_ycXQrU-PS2Z7reCgFtR6dR2V8D6zkdZLYQuz9xe-W8jxGZsZlRQ4EnKOIgod7eX5VhzvepflFqm_g2f3U6bBojwY36KpbaFJNZSxoa5826g0SKA/s1600-h/Cool+Gma.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span><img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFnMx9Lu5GiiPOZ01sjsH8YFIwDHF_ycXQrU-PS2Z7reCgFtR6dR2V8D6zkdZLYQuz9xe-W8jxGZsZlRQ4EnKOIgod7eX5VhzvepflFqm_g2f3U6bBojwY36KpbaFJNZSxoa5826g0SKA/s400/Cool+Gma.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222761592551774402" /></a>She is so hot right now!!<div><br /></div><div>If you have any ideas on how I can build a crank system that would work on the "Parry Bridge" let me know. (I named it just now, if you have any better ideas for a name, I am open for suggestions.)</div>Jacob Parryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05290520569293588011noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348741655999205516.post-12992336113845548612008-07-08T11:10:00.000-07:002008-12-09T15:40:43.340-08:00WARNING: Humor may be hazardous to your illness.<div>Several months ago I was asked to be a guest contributer on a friends blog. I asked him what he wanted me to write on and he said I could write on whatever I wanted. So, I chose to write about humor. I have decided to add that post to my blog in order to preserve it. Here it is:</div><div><br /></div><div>Not many people see humor as an art, but I do. I think having the ability to make people </div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIjkyWr54adGvWMNjotVhEFc9QM91HW9FLfz7j7zhSdW74iP7c7Zby3xLMXrDfU4rFCqwAGDuPcNqlbi1YNl7blxeUlyu45kgHe3Y2E9DnwTQbnoeya4BQeM4CIo40KTFhZGYnWWlwMsU/s400/tzun98l.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220711371134933346" />laugh is an expression or application of human creative skill and imagination. Being able to respond pointedly and skillfully with wit or humor in a conversational exchange is something that most people wish they could do, including myself. I have found that there are a few simple and basic rules which govern the world of humor. As we all know, having a sense of humor is having the ability to perceive what is comical in a situation while expressing it in a way that makes it possible for others to see or feel the same thing. Humor is based on the audience's understanding, perception and interpretation. This means that if nobody understands, humor is lost. These basic rules are what keep funny people funny, and not-so-funny people quiet.<br /><br /><div>I think everyone has the ability to make people laugh. A guy named Doug Larson once said that "a pun is the lowest form of humor." Puns can be learned and used in almost any situation and by almost anybody. But don't be fooled, by definition, a pun really isn't a pun unless it is deliberate. When it is not intentional it is called a malapropism. What makes this so interesting is the fact that most people claim their puns to be accidental. What does this mean? It means that every time someone tells you "no pun intended," either they are lying, or it wasn't really a pun, but a malapropism.<br /><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9PNtU2ym8Hqkyn2FtFiFUEYqpkECnpm1cvxL31rWWy0ajUvq8FEW0P8jePApv5LjYIKOLFzzc5WR8Gnw2qdooFNOO7xsYdcurZrbYOlMcagY42-P8AdywpRT0fN8s8tv4bV1HNIN1xUc/s400/tbrn61l.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220711178280895778" />Now, everybody knows that it is repugnant when somebody laughs at their own joke. This leads me to believe that the best kind of humor comes dry. The most ideal kind of dry humor would probably be "deadpan" humor. Deadpan humor is a type of non-comedic delivery in which humor is presented without a change in emotion or facial expression. The ones who can make people laugh without laughing themselves are the ones who rule the realm of comedy. Mark Twain was quoted as saying: "The humorous story is told gravely; the teller does his best to conceal the fact that he even dimly suspects that there is anything funny about it."<br /><br />Just for the record, laughter isn't significant because of the internal exercise that it provides for a person, but because of the mood created in which the other positive emotions come out.<br /><br />-Jacob Parry</div>Jacob Parryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05290520569293588011noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348741655999205516.post-77862709155644334492008-06-12T12:04:00.000-07:002008-12-09T15:40:43.696-08:00I Am Batman, The Dark Jedi KnightMy friend Taylor Rice told me today that when we are dreaming about doing things that we don't normally do in our everyday lives it is a way for our mind to allow those crazy things to happen in order to keep us from trying them while we are awake, and ultimately hurting ourselves. In other words, crazy dreams protect us from our own insane imaginations.<div><br /><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLKiGpox-iarfQoGJUbCSafsfKUqh07jLCa7lMesOV09ydD1mnvbK1v5Rjrd0Sp2Y5-njQzU7PoL_nRLF0Q54PSCHKYLiyHfREi3sQpt_kEvFLYzc8c0_ntXe-2_hRN_FZ-rnsdtrptS8/s400/film-batman.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211081403452369074" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div>Last night I dreamt that I was Batman as a Jedi. I had powers of a Jedi while dressed up like Batman. My enemy was Jack Nicholson (not as the Joker). He was kidnapping little kids while at the same time leaving little clues to where he had hid them. It was my duty to decode his clues and find the little children. The first two kids that I found were in a school bus tied up. I ran to the bus as fast as I could and with the force of a Jedi, I tore off the door like it was tin foil. I jumped on the bus and with my mind ripped off the rope freeing the young children from the grips of the lines that held them. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>When I caught up with Jack we sat down and had a nice game of checkers. He had to actually touch his pieces, while I just had to make one flick of my wrist while concentrating on which piece I wanted moved and it would obey. The game didn't last long, he started to cheat by moving more than one piece in a single turn, so I just destroyed all his pieces while at the same time declaring myself as the winner.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>In the next scene of my dream I was in a kitchen setting with two or three girls. I started talking to one of them and she asked me to tell her about myself. I began to tell her different things that I was interested in, none of which I can remember now, but at the end of the list I told her that the force was with me. To prove it to her I lifted up the salt shaker a few inches off the table for a few seconds and then set it gently back down. She was so impressed that she wanted to see something a little bit more spectacular, so I picked up a big pot that was sitting on a shelf high above reaching distance and brought it steadily down to her hands. At that time my phone rang and woke me up. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm really glad that my mind has a way for me to escape the real world and allow me to experience things that I wouldn't otherwise get to experience. It is a lot safer to rip doors off buses and lift heavy pots in dreams. Don't try it at home, unless you are in the safety of your slumber.</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG6oBq4sRUF8ZtHN3EU-Lj2Y5G8MZze9kPVruq1wbAnyhFAAm7kKUVpo_29G2q314RyAoFaxVUeR1UsNsge4DRdI4Fow61gVE0LteNvjqsSYPEFlWQqqv815U3iHKFC4ySmIWTZOH82Xk/s400/BatManJacob.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211096437937828594" /></div></div>Jacob Parryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05290520569293588011noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348741655999205516.post-2225469856416551252008-06-05T09:23:00.000-07:002008-12-09T15:40:44.055-08:00To Unravel A Murder, You Have To Strip It To The Bone. Every Body Has Secrets<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>In the last couple of weeks I have found myself watching a show called "Bones." I couldn't stop watching after I sat and watched the pilot online. here is a little synopsis:<div><div><div><br /></div><div>Brilliant, but socially inept, forensic anthropologist Dr. Temperence Brennan works at the Jeffersonian Institute in Washington DC. She is approached by cocky yet charming ex-Army Ranger turned Special Agent, Seeley Booth to help the Bureau solve crimes by identifying human remains that are far too decomposed for standard FBI forensic investigations. Brennan's empirical, literal view of the world causes friction with Booths emotive, instinctive attitude creating a volatile relationship. However as their case load increases the symbiotic partnership produces results and with the support of Brennan's Squint Squad, murderers, past and present</div><div> should be on the look out.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE8tp5NqJmbXChuu9dv3RRUuiTzqynH7xn5zeFTSU4RmXKu9QbEZOqHaFrtZ2re2IzNyaOe4QzSTkRlOs5DRtGAHw6yc-fFn6DyI1q0mqqx9TQmucS2wwrVl7vQg2ILMcpIb2d9GQowmY/s320/bones.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208458808564091474" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">There are three seasons and just yesterday I finished the last one. I now have to wait until August for the next season to start. I have decided that when deciding on a new show to watch, I am just going to pick one that is all over, that way I can just get the dvd's and watch them without having to wait. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">For some reason when I get really into a show my emotions get involved. I have to remind myself that it is just a show. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Honestly, it isn't the story that I enjoy about this show, it is the character development. I can't get enough of it. Crazy? I think so.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Anyways, my life has been full of work and nothing else. I have a bunch of trips planned for this summer. Oh, and just so everyone knows, I am planning a trip to Zion National Park. We are going to be hiking the narrows in August. If you want to go, just let me know.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Now, go watch Bones!! </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK2ITV2FlO9zLj8AVSAP9h0aaSlXFyGpeuhEsq8HgxA3UQ9jpjtcyT8lFlQDeCc2X0FATCGAtfHKbcYj1Tzzdu9yTPDvDTN5_ih76uPl096-A9UADZafiMf7mLlQW-sY1OTaNkaPUyBzs/s400/0000042880_20070913161021.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208461724651587810" /></div></div></div>Jacob Parryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05290520569293588011noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348741655999205516.post-10281966225506389742008-05-18T23:35:00.000-07:002008-12-09T15:40:44.830-08:00You do ballet?...ha ha, get it?...Idiots.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj06TjPxduHS6Xd882-y0iodQeboxOaIxhEsf_hQOZFu6JBTl9khs-9AJ-zqjf3WJjd5uEj8YDKKjHZsDdfVpyWicQ3XcvW4f7AAzqjdi28NGn6jSqhxq8xF1ApY1ompKowBoR6xWbNEag/s1600-h/img_1185259048.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj06TjPxduHS6Xd882-y0iodQeboxOaIxhEsf_hQOZFu6JBTl9khs-9AJ-zqjf3WJjd5uEj8YDKKjHZsDdfVpyWicQ3XcvW4f7AAzqjdi28NGn6jSqhxq8xF1ApY1ompKowBoR6xWbNEag/s320/img_1185259048.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202157169646565490" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqWVSmj6xR2g9LsfamZttIJlvv-Ju4NUVMB4-ASRRquXFo1T4eV5WozPfFmi0mPL1dnYnrMGr5CtbVOn1VzIBiMDRot7QSsgHUGKsqZS9v4b9BDOelCQGiM7LYq5y6yndON2Tp0SNvuE0/s1600-h/SLC_MONA-exter-1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqWVSmj6xR2g9LsfamZttIJlvv-Ju4NUVMB4-ASRRquXFo1T4eV5WozPfFmi0mPL1dnYnrMGr5CtbVOn1VzIBiMDRot7QSsgHUGKsqZS9v4b9BDOelCQGiM7LYq5y6yndON2Tp0SNvuE0/s320/SLC_MONA-exter-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202157049387481186" /></a><div>I was just reading an article on Wikipedia explaining what valet parking is and it said that if there is no valet fee, or if the valet service is free, the customary tip should be no less than $7.00. Here in Salt Lake there is a valet fee which means the tips are a lot less than when I worked valet in Vegas, where valet parking was complimentary, but it was rare, even then, that we would get more than 5 bucks. Being a valet isn't easy, especially at the Hotel Monaco. </div><div><br /></div><div>On saturday we were short a guy and we got hit with about 100 cars, which is a lot for 4 guys. About 8 months ago the hotel lost their parking garage due to the fact that it was torn down in order to start construction on a very large building that wont be finished for the next 2 years. Because the hotel lost its garage they decided to hire VPS (Valet Parking Services) to start parking all the cars that would be staying there. VPS bought the lowest level of a parking</div><div> garage that is owed by the really big Wells Fargo building that is in the down town area and started parking all the guests cars there. The biggest problem is that it is 3 blocks away. I don't know if any of you are aware of how far that is but just go give you a hint, 6 blocks is a mile...you do the math. Every time a guest comes in and checks his/her car with us, we (everyone but me) have to park the car 3 blocks away and then run back to get the next car just to do the same thing. About 5 time a day someone will leave something like a cell phone or diaper bag in the car leaving it up to us to run back down to the garage that is 1/2 a mile away (I did the math for you) to retrieve it. It sucks.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, this past saturday we had a couple things happen that caused the day to be the suckiest of all. First of all, there were some scheduling issues that made it so I had some very inexperience guys working with me. I mentioned earlier that we were short one guy, right? The night was going fine up until about 9:00pm when a family came out for their car. My valet guy got the keys and ran to the car. It wouldn't start...in fact, it wouldn't even turn in the ignition. The</div><div> whole steering column was locked. The owner of the car got in and couldn't do anything either. He figured since we were the last people to have the car that it was automatically our fault, which most of the time is true, but we will see later that it was not our fault. I called my boss, who is kind of in charge of dealing with all the people who point their finger at us. I told the guy that someone was on the way over to help fix the problem. I then continued on with my job. At about 10:00pm I went down to the garage leaving my most experienced valet attendant at the front drive to manage the cars while I was gone. Every night I have to go to the garage and make sure that all the doors are locked and all the cars accounted for. While I was down there I noticed that one of the cars that should have already been brought up was still down there, so I sent one of my guys to get the key and take it up to the front drive. While he was in the process of finding the keys the owner of that car came out and gave us her claim ticket. I got a call on my radio from the guy I sent up to get the keys who told me that he couldn't find them. I ran as fast as I could down the 3 blocks to the hotel and asked what the heck was going on. "The keys are just...gone."</div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSY0GAEvAxDXcnjeA8857qikjcubImlcY6bXVGHyHhVGx4zGpQMoLLMDZETAj4uBzXIz_-GBs3X4wifwkmpPyMR3t-kpeGYN3PNzjjL5S6mTKAWbjqM0eGso6jnIVF0_pcw0LWEfnL6ec/s320/060814007.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202156744444803154" /><div> I had to go to the lady whose keys we lost and tell her what her options were. "You can wait here for the locksmith, or we can give you a ride home." Can you believe that I have to say that to someone who trusted us to take</div><div> care of their car? She couldn't go home because her house key was in her car, which obviously was locked. Plus, the locksmith wasn't going to be able to start her car because it was a 2007 mini cooper that has an electric key starter.</div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht9oVY3zeRihcXemf2IHtfyU4e2F68rCmaBMOvqI4jHXQbpOCNAQjbdD84S-M0qI449fKXLapJt4dCjG2Po9U3kp7A_Uf5kGv-_FpuEdB0r4pIsvBz1xmuV2N7QgN6PKOuZ9Er4fJIZwk/s320/Key.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202156576941078594" /><div> "Crap." I tried to think of someway we could work this out. I told her that the locksmith would be able to at least open the door to get her house key, then I would pay for a taxi to get her home and to work the next morning. Other things that I offered was a room at the hotel, some drinks at the bar while she waited, and at the end we tried to offer her $50 for her troubles, which she refused to take. After about 30 minutes of frantically looking for the keys, we got a flashlight and started looking for the key in all the cars that we had in the garage, which actually ended up being the best idea yet, because we found them in the passenger seat of some random car that was parked by none other than Andrew, the new kid. The lady was very nice about everything and actually thanked us for trying so hard to find the keys, even when all hope seemed to be lost. Now, back to the first car that wouldn't start. We gave the guy and his family a ride home and called a locksmith to come down and figure out what the problem was. It turned out to be the key...it was so worn down that it wouldn't even start the car. The locksmith had to make a brand new key from scratch which ended up starting the car with no problem. Even though it wasn't our fault and we really didn't have to pay for it, we did anyways because Chris (the owner) is a big softy.</div><div><br /></div><div>The moral of this story is this: Give big tips to the valets...unless they lose your keys, then milk'em for all they've got.</div><div><br /></div>Jacob Parryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05290520569293588011noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348741655999205516.post-28094951339771623212008-05-16T12:42:00.000-07:002008-12-09T15:40:45.980-08:00Tempting the Tempter<div>I recently read an article from the Ensign that was from July 2003. It was entitled "Prepare to Resist Temptation." </div><div><br /></div><div>There are three different things that I learned from this message:</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>1. How to have an eternal perspective to help resist temptation</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>2. How to prepare to resist temptation<br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>3. What to do when temptation wins</div><div><br /></div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6rlBsPQDewAAARnXpsMwgewdfi2fttwc_Cr54t6LbWnXQkYy6dtXZ_FgDWWnX1ZqAKai6USIM7l_1r-y5IFCZyyUSYfjR8IfFq9NWSUYrEOD4AKbOW3YT948iPxx5AT_fKSZfS8WNNL0/s320/Alma_preach.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201075280269604770" /><div>Alma taught in the Book of Mormon that we should "be watchful unto prayer continually, that ye may not be led away by the temptations of the devil, that he may not overpower you, that ye may not become his subjects at the last day; for behold, he rewardeth you no good thing."</div><div><br /></div><div>It is crazy that the devil can trick people so easily. The way I see it, when we are not praying we are like blind people walking around with Satan as our guide dog. In the moments that we begin to pray, sight is regained and the guide dog is no longer needed. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6RoD8Oam4Gtp1xnSVDCDCufHdZJpgDAkttmvSyX6xf7ShNkQUco8xs7KduyCzRcbsUyvbVhlOrYhkl-NhjZznqLvUtLCD1f8CshFgz3vbgl02z9j_DIYzfNhBH1QZtc_y9L7n81zo-3g/s320/6921495_BG1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201075284564572082" /><div>President Faust was quoted as saying that "we need not become paralyzed with fear of Satan's power. He can have no power over us unless we permit it. He is really a coward, and if we stand firm, he will retreat.</div><div><br /></div><div>It is easy to make decisions when we know what our values are. When we don't know what our values are it is harder to make the right decisions.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg8Y7WGJFT4ha1zy73nVDpmkocO-X4Nx1f8qrvzswsOYpDWW4lFoBZoUhCG5qdTFfrRmAGi6-kPiVoY8OGCk5ZK2qfEb0uUzHfP_Hsj6iYM0PTp5U3Bix567LkXsEQWQj2aNUQF7v9Qv4/s320/hunter.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201075284564572098" /><div>President Howard W. Hunter: "Without temptation, sickness, pain, and sorrow, there could be no goodness, virtue, appreciation for well-being, or joy. The law of opposition makes freedom of choice possible; therefore, our Heavenly Father has commanded his children, 'Choose ye this day, to serve the Lord God who made you.' He has counseled us to yield to his spirit and resist temptation."</div><div><br /></div><div>Just because temptation is necessary in this life doesn't mean that we have to give into it. Temptation is around so that we can experience the joy that comes from conquering the urges to sin. "It takes some bad for satisfaction," as Jason Mraz puts it.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBnaO6ATwM1-pxThdm4PKP0Tfrdm6PJY25svCr7XezMyPTH0PoVc8MrklHvOsUnnBcb9yK-5BvH1KSyoxFSHU6VKOgGVOmoRvXAMpuMuOnqAmwWBpR2I-R_eoKAr9ykRaQMM8cR-R_Kz8/s320/Scott_medium.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201075288859539410" /><div>Richard G. Scott: "When you have taken a determined stand for right, when you have established personal standards and made covenants to keep them, when temptations come and you act according to your standards, you will be reinforced and given strength beyond your own capacity if that is needed. Difficulty comes when you enter the battle of temptations without a fixed plan." </div><div><br /></div><div>The fixed plan is knowing what decisions you make in difficult situations before the difficult situations come.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWySeb7mthVRmpaI8TGZACvbJ4pKtavLngHLlHtq5wpvw6GWp-ydtoULcm-hwwBoCKqk6Y_18jxAHrMXLwdX4M0uG9-Vw96yC4qg584PwJ6ID3nv72K-GH0CjJK173DfyUW_58gNxQBB4/s320/gordon_b_hinckley.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201075288859539426" /><div>President Gordon B. Hinckley: "Occasionally we may </div><div>stumble. I thank the Lord for the great principle of repentance and forgiveness. When we drop the ball, when we make a mistake, there is held out to us the word of the Lord that he will forgive our sins and remember them no more against us."</div><div><br /></div><div>Life is just better when we make the right decisions before the decisions are needed. Happiness will be a constant characteristic of our lives as soon as we have our "fixed plans."</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyways, life is good. I am happy.</div>Jacob Parryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05290520569293588011noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348741655999205516.post-12849758423307282252008-05-04T09:31:00.000-07:002008-12-09T15:40:46.722-08:00Pet Peeves and the PeevishIn the last couple of days I have seen quite a few of the many pet peeves that I have. While at work I see a lot of things that really bother me. Here are a few:<div><br /></div><div>I detest cab drivers and limo drivers (when I say limo, I don't mean a stretch limo, I mean a car that is nicer than a taxi but used for the same purpose. They usually don't have a meter for charging per mile, but an amount is agreed upon before departure). Both cab drivers and limo drivers have to have clients in order for their business to work. That means that people need rides before the drivers get business. Everyday I am asked at least 10 times if I can get a cab or limo for them. I always say the same thing:</div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgigOw1QzdanuiPupABHBsf-uDuKldCxu4kYQtw4zXvO27mQnZPURr_CrI64R-X9rN0FocJkIb_Hw6ApYIFVWeZV8wEPJbhCacORF8l4YQoUJ-S2bCNznnd8F1TkzDoPCYLkOgQzCEi1dk/s320/SUBURBAN_BLACK.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196585674371752482" /><div> "The bellmen are in charge of arranging taxis and limos." They usually thank me for the information and go inside. That isn't what bothers me. It is when the taxis or limos come to pick these people up and think that the driveway is theirs. Either they will come in the wro</div><div>ng way and clog up my system or they will sit and wait for the passengers to come out while clogging up my system, sometimes both. Just last night something happened that was out of the ordinary and very bothersome. A guy came in a nice black suburban to pick up some people from the hotel and he drove in the right way, but the wrong way. Let me explain...he came in going the right way on the drive, but in revers</div><div>e. We were pretty busy at the time, which always gets me a little rushed with adrenaline. When I saw what this guy was doing I immediately ran up to his car and told him that he had to get out of the way. He told me that he was just going to be picking up and then leaving. I was persistent in telling him that he was only causing problems and that if a car came up behind (in front of) him he wasn't going to be able to get out and they wouldn't be able to get in. When I asked him what he was going to do if that were to happen, he just tried to reassure me that his passengers were on their way out. I was vexed. What happened next was only to be assumed, two cars came barreling in and they had no place to go. I was yelling at the suburban guy to get his car off my drive and he responded by doing nothing. All I was thinking about was how easy it would be for me to break his face. I had to ask the two cars to back out while the idiot driver was wasting their time and mine. After another minute or two the first car that had come in didn't want to wait anymore (who can blame him?) and came back into the drive. I directed him into the wrong side of the drive so they could get out of the car and into the hotel. The driver of the suburban then left after his passengers got in and I then placed him on my black list, which means he wont be getting any calls from the hotel for pickups, which means he lost business, which means you don't mess with me. It is a good thing the bellmen like me more than the drivers.</div><div><br /></div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglsRtNokqYao4TUaMDgWgVesBhCn5uFRGiiWWxNJq5jhMizikUficijg4owMmH23NUQMRZ8MlbM8NveddMCsrUr7QhS8CywD7VbRMrcDCP9HqsD-6IsRJhnRCL6jlnakqTA9hUWbo18mU/s320/42-16518910.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196583642852221458" /><div>A couple of days ago the front entrance to the hotel was being painted. Why is it that when there is a sign that says "Wet Paint" nobody believes it? Almost every person that walked by had to touch the paint and see if is was actually wet. It wouldn't surprise me to see people react the same way to a sign that said "Danger: Radiation Risk." Some people are really dumb.</div><div><br /></div><div>I work with a kid named Stephen who is a little odd. He is really good at asking really dumb or annoying questions. First of all, he thinks it will impress me if he tells me every little thing that he is doing, "I'm going to take this car and put it right here, is that okay?" "I'm going to go give that guy a ticket, okay?" He also says "thank you" all the time, which you might think is nice and proper, but it is weird when I say "Stephen, take that car down to the garage" and he responds by saying "Okay, thank you." I told him last night to park a car in a vacant spot on the drive. After trying various times to get the car into the spot that was now obvious wouldn't fit someone told him to park it somewhere else, he responds by saying "But Parry told me to park it here, right Parry?" Even though it was kind of funny, I told him that me telling him to put it there wasn't going to make it fit, "Put it somewhere else Stephen." There is something else that bothers me about him, he feels the need to know every little thing that is going on. "How's your sandwich Parry?" "What kind is it?" "You don't like tomatoes?" "What kind of bread is that?" ha ha..."GO PARK A CAR STEPHEN!!"</div><div><br /></div><div>I love my job a lot, really. I enjoy being around the guys that I work with, for the most part. Stephen, although a little annoying is one of the hardest workers I have and he will do whatever it takes to get things done. Even though he bothers me sometimes, I really like him. I gave him a hug yesterday because sometimes I am kind of hard on him. I hope it gave him feelings of joy...I'm sure it did. He tries so hard to please me, he deserves a hug every once and while to reassure him that his tries aren't entirely in vain. </div><div><br /></div><div>Wikipedia explains that the term "pet peeve" was first used in 1919, how the heck could they possibly know that? That bugs me. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCjo1QphfwMsw2Z224aDe5ionRjhpLZNvC4xvF2QnMxdEYuudzXv2N1I8AdF64Kse75y-wa6jBuqPR11F7tL_lfn__STaWQusJ3a3qpWog4HRLo7sIpT0ppSnTtnJaIslm6m1bwoCRUcU/s320/aman49l.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196586941387104818" /></div>Jacob Parryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05290520569293588011noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348741655999205516.post-62661493087761355502008-04-23T10:50:00.000-07:002008-12-09T15:40:47.381-08:00Logic vs. EmotionIs it ever really possible to make decisions solely based on logic? I often wonder how dominant people's emotions are in their decision making. I started to really ponder about how big of a part emotions play in the many alternatives we have to choose from every day, here are my findings:<div><br /><div>When trying to make decisions logically I find that in almost every situation we try to exclude emotion all together. It is almost like we start to list the pros and cons of whatever situation we are in and begin to weigh out the options. Our goal is to be rational and ultimately make the correct decision. I think that when making decisions based on logic it is easier to start to doubt the decisions that we make (probably because our emotions keep messing with the process). This seems dumb to me because it is like the mathematical way of making a decision. We plug in every variable, consider each side and after processing every option, the answer comes out. It should be very clear, but why, sometimes, is it not that easy? Maybe if the only person involved in the outcome is you it is that easy, but what happens when other people that might be influenced or effected by your decision are inserted into the equation?</div><div><br /></div><div>I believe that emotional decision-making is the most common type of decision-making. It is usually the fast type of decision-making that we use when we are in heated arguments or when we are faced with immediate danger. In the case of making decisions while arguing, doubt is usually replaced by regret (when time is given to think logically), which usually leads to an apology (in good situations).</div><div><br /></div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoCoN-rjVg6BzAFuZyxS-htZ4GloJhrhNBQ14AtV4M4pvki7Fx2nc7mLdBOBTQwoZ6MTwjUIQPVFEMgzxBjcPH25JyRrm1a8FF4eFBLCmZ0TyF91LWyPUEEKUsUv2oxb96wvaUjNYUiJo/s320/mushroom-cloud.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192525061966258674" /><div>Another type of emotional decision is based on love. This, I think, is the dangerous kind of decision-making. In every situation that I have been in where I have made a decision based on the emotion of love I have ended up in the same place I was before I made the initial decision: nowhere. I then turn to logic, which does me no good because of the doubt that I experience at the conclusion of that decision-making process. I am thus left dazed and confused, which leads to the scariest kind of decision-making, which is based on dubiety. The best thing to do is avoid emotional decision-making when your emotions are somehow attached to the outcome. When you really want something to happen, you start to rationalize in order to get that something. This is when you should use someone else's logic. Ask a friend.</div><div><br /></div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZhXnKdNxLqJLYSGTmtJ24Kd3MiBCPPpuRB4aSQ-3q-sIKzlYXhEfo7TbLvF4jOVhf9O44ZdjzvisCH2e50car0Fmtamd4z-Bjb5N-sn328wL1PMxArrT37Jwqk2F5r2C84issOy1Tbho/s320/bso0007l.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192526114233246210" /><div>I have found that every person makes decisions differently. When I told Zach that I was going to be writing about logic vs. emotion, he responded by saying "so, boys vs. girls?" I laughed really hard because for one, I didn't think of it that way, and two, it was funny. I don't necessarily think that boys think logically and girls think emotionally. In most cases it is probably true, but whether you are a boy or a girl, logic and emotion are both used in the important decisions that we make in our lives, like when we are trying to decide where to go for school, what we should be studying, what we are going to be doing as a career for the rest of our lives, who we should be dating, or even bigger, who we should be marrying. I have found that even though I try to make my decisions based on logic, my emotions always win in the end. I hope that doesn't make me girly.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyways, whenever you are in a situation where you cant possibly imagine making the wrong decision, never forget the ultimate solution is to pray. Alma said it right when he said "Counsel with the Lord in all thy doings, and he will direct thee for good." When making a decision based on prayer, you can't go wrong, I promise.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><img style="text-align: right;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3bbFZCaPkMbYWuLHShTbDZh2z-ybZxsiDTQApkPbF7LJpthL0uLkTu7vxYCl6hIYPxzGbccyxqqDJPz75BYDI6VNHXzuXI75XzCO2n0VC20p7y3uPgHqRbxpUiKfRX_zGoFB7EnlI6Vs/s320/dilber+decisions+strategy.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192521205085626850" /><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div>Jacob Parryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05290520569293588011noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348741655999205516.post-15131295219216771582008-04-15T12:34:00.000-07:002008-12-09T15:40:49.544-08:00Family and FutureI will be going to school full time this next semester. I don't know how excited I am. I feel like I am going to be missing out on all the fun adventures that are going to be going on in Las Vegas while I am here. Zach and Amber will be there for the summer with their cute little kids and I wont be there for Cadence to crush on. This reminds me of all the fun that we had as a family last year. I was just looking at some of the pictures. <img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxSkcJ6Zkqiypn4PIYtZfP-c0B6n-cPRH_0j4bn6a_D74UKVFmEX5jDftpJR8HrIfHqKBwTd1KNvLxsstM8Hcn3Xu0F5hdfTmV0QN4Ozm-uOTxBDrb0aO5QWL2QgvRuiyE1USb7UmK4OY/s320/CIMG1425.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189572184224191250" /><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8cs_HhyphenhyphenhnIRCX9gb52RwUQYrmOg1j7E-6FJQVg-HZj54NRojfpSdvU6ohEnDq8l6ARMgwCijW5JVUTpA_KtXJNBBKb-6Rxv9qtdqQq6xfnIRPvEKovvjw6Md7rQGNEK2xG2ev6b2nWRo/s320/CIMG0146.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189576393292141426" /><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwfkb85k6yrCR0qky8tEL0JzUdbd4wrJwRWe7MYme-11Loz-juTNbWqwbBkW-XeKIrUtwlkHG9fsmThXTyrP2M8hO_EllQc7N3hudb3QmBCLn6SndEH0cNBnw_Tqn-IFEaDdLxoMvEjDY/s320/CIMG1411.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189577969545139074" /><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiujjA4tMVBR048uSvjnPaGse_jfbb7lIa8ZPyq_L5dkVv8onf3Ob74WxsrlsmNSCefV_y7DXowDXGvK5Fht1iEcccu9otym_ep05QF6iF2UR-p8SO2jhMuHhyQiymYtM0GDkkSVxXhMv8/s320/CIMG1405.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189574301643068226" /><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHQA-M19we9CBGtTGOmLFxfarf5mNbHbhLblcYcjKu_xtP0Lzvqnu-NUGXQdGEPEv2LU2RkjgmnznWfq87tY5-1wyVYjCoYP3vl_XsgVNwpcZFyeJNtv3wE8rCgaJyGqevNanm6f5LZgQ/s320/CIMG1410.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189574293053133618" /><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSYa9NuKYB9q44s6ve7fn9BB3YHagPyAdWnR-HHwqAenZytOHBucCtW9CFKPhJmmgJmwOIG7N8AVX16BRlDR0UIEXlrwffKnxpSOEQfgAOM5EQv6QuAsBCPZMVySYQRr56VfY0gDf0JSQ/s320/CIMG0105.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189574318822937442" /><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFwpuByJ3hKcUSSGXtnn_d5_zpV6KwbiIafDJYrhkKXpDDJ2Q8GGSS-sdApQBrnnCH3XAqQbTjiSNHGq4-KdUAm0HSSgDFgS8wa2q1eDPCuwHL3D_uD6LM7e3UTN3tglinJinV_j0qdHU/s320/CIMG1396.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189574305938035538" /></div><div><br /></div><div>I have also been playing the guitar a lot lately. I have even been writing some of my own stuff. When I say that I have been writing my own stuff, that just means that I have been making crap up. I actually have never written anything down. Did you know that no word in the English language rhymes with "month?" Even after telling you that, almost everyone who reads this will try to find a word that will. <br /></div><div><div><br /></div><div>Today was my last day of classes until finals. I have a final next tuesday and then my last one is in the first week of May. I'm pretty sure I'm not going to be prepared, but that wont stop me from passing. Somehow I always manage to surprise myself, and everyone else who knows how unmotivated I am right now.</div><div><br /></div><div>It is 48 degrees outside right now, which sucks because yesterday it got up to 80. Right when we all thought that spring was here, nature takes it back. I was riding home from class on my scoot about 30 minutes ago when it started to hail on me. At the time I was only wearing my goggles, so the hail was hitting my face at 50 mph. It felt like little needles sticking into my face. I had to stop and take out my helmet before I could go on. Even after I put my helmet on the little frozen bullets were pelting my neck. I endured for the 8 blocks that I had left. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have a new fetish...I have recently found that I love Sudokus. Don't be fooled, I still love</div><div> crosswords, but I have entered into a new realm of these chinese games of numbers. Here is one that you can enjoy:</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYsOyqds39LtO6eNkcddePaKBKAGOsOw1nv6XNcv3g61X8mbk8YUiv8cBmPcTV5HmMnOPbRatYG6EskuYFiJIHd-7kOAJ2jSV-3vMVEi24oNxrMAfPOaY5tI9QiaBwPr83KJvwVNx0srw/s320/2008-04-15.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189567146227553010" /><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Anyways, just a brief summary of how things are going: I love Salt Lake and I have found the essentials of happiness: something to do, something to love, and something to hope for. Hopefully you are loving what you are doing because what is happiness except the simple harmony between a man (or woman) and the life he (or she) leads? </div></div>Jacob Parryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05290520569293588011noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348741655999205516.post-48553081197797644702008-04-07T13:09:00.000-07:002008-12-09T15:40:49.898-08:00Estoy Agobiado Bajo El Peso De Las Graves Dificultades Que Se Presentan En La Vida.My schedule has been pretty full the last couple of weeks. I have been working almost non-stop and school takes up some time too. Oh, and the never ending search for a girl that can put up with me is pretty time consuming as well. <div><br /></div><div>I will start with a funny story...at least I think it is funny:</div><div><br /></div><div>Just last week I started hanging out with a guy in my ward whose name is Brandon Flint (He is a really good photographer. You can see some of his work <a href="http://www.flintphotography.net/home/index.html">here</a>). Anyways, he invited me to go to dinner at The Garden, which is a nice little restaurant at the top of the Joseph Smith Memorial building. </div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzFBy5uLbNpvn39OHyKCcx1Bub-hBh2HPzwvM7dZZSPqArmyM32ciNYfhnrpoUq-LAemjbiiP_xAqf7a2nvggAK7z9Zur8l1j01A5OIJvdk583F2c_68S6H_8SwIdKHtHKQl4LOZvk45M/s320/800px-Joseph_smith_memorial_building_slc.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186615344535903714" /><div>The girl that he is dating (Dana) wanted him to come in to see her/get something to eat but he didn't want to go alone. I told him I would go right after he told me that she would give me free dessert. After we ate it came time to leave a tip and I asked Brandon how much we should give. He told me that he was going to leave ten dollars so I said that I would match his ten dollars...After a long pause and him giving me a weird look I asked if I should leave less, he replied by saying "yes." I was okay with that...we both win, I save 5 bucks and he looks good. The only person that loses is Dana, but she didn't know. It was funny.</div><div><br /></div><div>I had a mission reunion this past Friday. My mission president flew in from Honduras for the reunion and General Conference. I met up with him, his wife and some random mission buddies here in Salt Lake. I spent a couple of hours touring the church sites near temple square. We then parted ways for a couple of hours and met back up in Orem for the reunion. There were a lot of people that showed up, I was impressed. Some time was given to Presidente Valladares and his wife to speak. I felt like I was back in the mission again, it was so weird to see him standing in front of us giving us life advice. He talks in such a way that solicits attention, I love listening to him speak...I learn a ton. We finished the night by taking Pres and his wife to Denny's, He ordered the T-bone steak and eggs. We had Ex-Elder Hyde pay.</div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLHNuO-RWcE7MuUIlVL97B8XEB_kryHQqKsxMnPAnxSBtDwn5sgTdjtVyR8cBjfjzmxT99NWwwZxirWwVKMPXpCJB6u7au2hC74eq4Cs_s370dC_cm-9_S-UYXntDrI0utGnpcj8QWg8M/s320/lds_conference_center.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186611930036903378" /><div><br /></div><div>Conference was amazing. I actually watched the sessions on saturday minus Priesthood, I had to work. I even took notes on what the speaker were saying. The only thing that I was missing were my mommy's cinnamon rolls. I have been craving them all weekend.</div><div><br /></div><div>FYI: I cried during President Monson's last words. I love him a lot.</div><div><br /></div><div>The crossword girls name is Michelle. Now that I have her name, I can get her number...I am trying to take this one slow. Ha ha, two weeks to get her name and another week to get her number. I'm thinking by 2010 I will be ready to meet her parents.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Jacob Parryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05290520569293588011noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348741655999205516.post-88632604592887210532008-03-23T19:38:00.001-07:002008-12-09T15:40:50.825-08:00Spring Break and More CrosswordsSpring break is officially over. I was sitting in my living room thinking about the idea of spring break and I had a couple of thoughts. In high school, spring break was a time for students to head down to Cancún or some other exotic place and do things that create a basis for story telling for weeks after. Whether it is somebody who was puking the whole week because of alcohol poisoning or you got a glimpse of a Maculosus Angel fish on one of your scuba diving adventures, spring break has always made me think that I had to do something freaking awesome. I want to share with you what I did for my spring break:<div><br /></div><div>I took off for Las Vegas on the Friday that spring break began. I drove by myself because I couldn't find anybody to go with me. My purpose of going to Las Vegas was not to create a basis for story telling although it seems to have been an added bonus. I went down for the wedding of Taylor Rice to Amy Zockell. I spent a lot of time with the groom the night before he was to wed. We spent his last night as a bachelor on The Strip. It turns out that The Strip is not the best place to go for fun when you are a Mormon trying to st</div><div>ay worthy to go into the temple the next day. In fact, I think the only thing we did was walk around in circles trying to agree on what to do. Then we went home. We didn't even go and see the fountain show at the bellagio. </div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNQ-R8zN0ekWLYV6xf6Y6JazqXPHgvZXxSmwem6okwiwcBWT-6mnvtx9sasZebkwoyo74ka6Uv-OcjDWfUyjcyNwE-cDQ6Aw-cFvHkleLpoZw23C8jXWROAYGyncC3YRpdtG95CkBU12w/s320/bellagio_hotel_and_casino_las_vegas_nv.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182271762505080226" /><div>Lame. I spent the next day (saturday) doing three things. First, I went to the wed</div><div>ding and said a quick hello and a quick goodbye after the ceremony. I always thought it was weird that so much time was spent at the temple after the sealing was done...pictures really shouldn't take as long as they do. After the wedding I went home and did some work on my car with my dad. A couple of weeks ago I w</div><div>ent in for an oil change and 30 minutes later they came out and gave me a list of things that I needed to fix on my car. Some of the things on the list were bulging hoses and bad brakes. Thinking that the mechanics knew what they were talking about, my dad and I propped the car up on the jack and took the wheels off to look at the brakes.</div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Gqq1quOZvLFRkDASTqP4s1Wph6yGVpK2m7783Z8oqNYwkeg6PLIA34xTTBDxiarGSYwKP3qKgDNTO_2l9EHsjGxJHLslHUkV8ac0qt0Rf3W1-K4rgX9gqX7KJvd1D7f6o_SYu7vgAzw/s320/gja0106l.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182276267925773762" /><div> After about an hour we still couldn't get the metal pieces that were covering the brakes off, so we had to go buy a couple of tools in order to even look at the breaks. While we were at the auto shop we went ahead and bought the brakes so that we didn't have to come back. When we finally got the metal pieces off we found that the brakes didn't need to be replaced at all. The only thing we accomplished was spending some quality time together doing manly things like talking about lug nuts and tire irons. As for the h</div><div>oses, they weren't bulging enough to be called bulging...they were more like a little swollen. We put the wheels back on and took the brakes back.</div><div><br /></div><div>Later that night I went to the reception that was held at Amy's house. It was fun to see people that I haven't seen in a long time. Other than that it was boring...j/k.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now...one last thing before I end this post:</div><div><br /></div><div>The last couple of weeks have been good. I feel my happiness coming back and my broken heart is healing. I actually started talking to girls again. Just yesterday I decided that I was going to talk to a girl that I have wanted to talk to in my Mass Communications class. The class starts at 12:20pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I got there about 10 minutes late. The door is at the back of the class, which has stadium seating with about 30 rows. When I walked through the door, the first thing I did was look for the girl I was to talk to. After a few seconds of searching I found her sitting in the very back row about 8 feet away from where I was standing. I also saw that there was a guy sitting at the entrance to the row which made me think twice about sitting next to her.</div><div> </div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhCsB-8S1IT7XLg06-zUQwwWh7I1dJ-t6tE0SHMrckoKUV7gzNuJauRRnOHX9JE7Nlvvz-krJRpC9Ub9fKzmIBQUHQw5PXEH-gZoOhng4mwE1NsSjoI-xKFGHk9gzBbvfs8WwGEQR4RDw/s320/boy-in-love.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182272780412329394" /><div>I didn't want some random guy stop me from </div><div>talking to this girl so I came up with a plan b. I climbed over the back and sat in the chair to her right. It was pretty weird. It was pretty obvious that I wanted to sit by her...there were like a billion open seats everywhere else in the class. She looked at me and as I sat down she said "hi." I quickly returned the greeting with "hey." I thought it started out really well. After about 40 minutes I decided that I needed to say something else. She</div><div> wasn't really paying attention to the lecture, instead she had some book that looked like it could have been a romance novel. I thought that was kind of cool...at least Mom would like her. I looked around at everyone in the class and counted how many people looked like they were paying attention, then I leaned over to this girl and gave her my results:</div><div><br /></div><div>Me: "I just counted 7 people who are paying attention." </div><div>Her: "Really? That's a lot."</div><div>Me: "Yeah, that <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">is</span> a lot."</div><div>Then: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">silence</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div>It didn't exactly go as well as I had hoped, but I was still was determined to keep trying. After another couple of minutes the best idea came to my mind. I pulled out my computer and after getting online I found a website that has interactive crossword puzzles. I started to do one and noticed that she was eyeing my screen. Every time I would look away from the screen she would whip her head back into her book as if she was never peeping over at the puzzle. I finally asked her if she liked crosswords. She said that she did but wasn't very good at them. I pulled out the little table/desk thing that separated us and place my computer in between us and for the rest of the class period we worked on the puzzle together. After class I walked with her across campus until we reached the computer labs, at which point I said my goodbyes and set a date for Thursday at 12:20pm for another round of crosswords.</div><div><br /></div><div>And that, my friends, is why crosswords are so cool.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div>Jacob Parryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05290520569293588011noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348741655999205516.post-6285181172097103262008-03-14T17:07:00.000-07:002008-12-09T15:40:51.102-08:00Meter Maids and My BuBuI have now been in Salt Lake for 2 1/2 months and I still love it. Something I have learned during my stay here is that the city is very serious when it comes to parking. They have so many parking signs it is hard to keep track of where and when I can park. There is 5 and 10 minute parking, there is 1 and 2 hour parking. Sometimes you can leave your vehicle and sometimes you cant. There are little buggies that go around looking for the people who didn't pay the meter or are parked where the shouldn't be parked. Don't ever think you can get away with any parking violation in Salt Lake City, because the meter maids are trained like ninjas, they come when you aren't looking and when you least expect it. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGGnuGZ6VHBeM335BRFllxhmWJ0NB4VMji32JQqHDAzVJ1yj5ny17-NQX5Ve9aLXDcd1z8VCNLMoN_fk3iEDGSNHyNL9RF0fmUQbBcxRnyRrbYmZ8U6oPWVAV9djsI9CFxDqsIVL3eNys/s1600-h/20050305_ditwl_meter_maid_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGGnuGZ6VHBeM335BRFllxhmWJ0NB4VMji32JQqHDAzVJ1yj5ny17-NQX5Ve9aLXDcd1z8VCNLMoN_fk3iEDGSNHyNL9RF0fmUQbBcxRnyRrbYmZ8U6oPWVAV9djsI9CFxDqsIVL3eNys/s320/20050305_ditwl_meter_maid_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177757189116380610" border="0" /></a>They leave a bright pink envelope with a bright yellow ticket. Talk about embarrassment... not only is it a slap in the face to get a ticket, but they want everyone who drives by to notice that you got a ticket too. I can appreciate the fact that they not only make you give them money, but they also resort to the traditional way of punishment, public humiliation. I have gotten close to 10 parking tickets adding up to more than $100.00 in the short time I have lived here. It isn't easy coming from a city where you can park almost anywhere for free at any hour of the day...even valet is free in Vegas. Vegas Rocks!<br /><br /><br />On Tuesday (3 days ago) I bought a scooter. It is a 2005 PGO My Bubu. If any of you have heard of the Genuine Buddy, it is the same thing, just with a different name.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrMx3Q1C2YTX-4LUgq6dhyphenhyphentkThQDBZ1AMEpHU9Xlsty73En5CQL9rkFfrWr8LSnVR_t-Zym5q6WQ_cX87CmBDHeoy_noH66bB4OtkKrBMgk42a1_4wC9suu0GUe4I-Sesji8eDZ0B5MDI/s1600-h/3917104.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrMx3Q1C2YTX-4LUgq6dhyphenhyphentkThQDBZ1AMEpHU9Xlsty73En5CQL9rkFfrWr8LSnVR_t-Zym5q6WQ_cX87CmBDHeoy_noH66bB4OtkKrBMgk42a1_4wC9suu0GUe4I-Sesji8eDZ0B5MDI/s320/3917104.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177760753939236306" border="0" /></a> I paid $1700.00 for it and let me just tell you what it is going to do for me. Right now I am paying over $100.00 to put gas in my car every month. With the scooter I pay about $8.00 to fill the tank that will get me 80-100 miles to the gallon. I will probably have to fill up once every other week. The monthly payment added with insurance is $68.00. Does anybody else see the logic? There are many other reasons why I love having the scooter...It has enough room for two, so I can give rides to whomever, whether it be a girl...or a guy, right Audrey? I still need to register it and get my motorcycle endorsement. Oh, and I need to get a helmet and goggles...that is kind of important.<br /><br />I recently got promoted to shift manager at the Hotel Monaco. I have also been given the responsibility to train new and inexperienced valet. Thats not bad considering the fact that I have only been working with this company for two months. I must have made an impression.<br /><br />Spring break is coming up next week so I wont have any school, but I will be working all week. I have this weekend off to spend some time with my family in Vegas and to attend the wedding of Taylor Rice and his wife to be Amy Zockell.<br /><br />If you didn't read my last post I explained that I am obsessed with crossword puzzles. I have decided to include a clue or two from one of my crossword puzzles every week until I don't feel like doing it anymore. Sometimes I get stuck and although I have the answers in the back, I try really hard not to look until it is absolutely necessary. This way I wont have to look and you all can give me different ideas. Here it goes...<br /><br />1. "Aeneid" poet with six letters.<br /><br />2. Committee head starting with a C, ending with N...11 letters.<br /><br />Give me some of your thoughts.Jacob Parryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05290520569293588011noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348741655999205516.post-35017599018886797742008-03-06T16:44:00.000-08:002008-12-09T15:40:51.437-08:00Crosswords and Cracked Hips (Almost)I have found a new hobby. It is something that keeps me busy when I have nothing else to do and don't want to study (which is most of the time). I love crosswords. I used to hate them a lot, but now I don't. It all started a couple of weeks ago when I was working at the Hotel Monaco and we had some down time. Somebody had grabbed the Salt Lake Tribune and started the crossword that was in the paper on that particular day. I just looked at it briefly wondering what it possibly could offer as entertainment. I slowly would start getting more and more clues right and felt as though I had more of a brain than I realized. After a week or so, I started to wonder if my skill was getting any better at thinking of the answers. I thought of a way to measure how fast and how often I came up with not only the right answer, but any answer at all. There is a kid named Brandon Klenk that I work with and he is really good at coming up with answers to the clues. I payed close attention to how often he would come up with an answer and then I would compare his response time with mine. That is how I know that I am getting better. I have since bought a book full of these puzzles and spend some time everyday expanding my mind. The book I bought isn't just one of those scruffy crossword books that look like they were made from recycled paper, it is called Crosswords to Keep Your Brain Young: The 6-step Age-Defying Program. It includes interesting and insightful information on exercising your brain. I feel smarter already!! :)<div><br /></div><div>Now, while I was working yesterday, the previously mentioned Brandon Klenk and I were running down to the parking garage to pick up a couple of the cars that had been requested for pickup. The parking garage is about 2 1/2 blocks away from the drop-off point, so we have to run fast and far in order to keep the people who are waiting happy. Well, on one of my runs I got to the edge of the hotel and right before I was about to turn the corner I heard somebody come out of the front entrance. I turned my head to see who it was but didn't stop running, I kept going full speed. Brandon, </div><div>who was running beside me, tried to tell me to slow down, but it was too late...the damage had been done. I slammed into a little old lady who was probably about 50 or 60 years old. I hit her so hard that she landed flat on her back.</div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAwtLwWCrjLFjcYvXSV3Dvl6lPS2ZRUQD9yhfhiNA1CMpX6EgPPJkPsHD-cHVJJfJVBMYrds5PGjEK_14SnjHAGcKQCXk0aKRWlhoiDgFjvAEsGvBPCYJ6678ZA3ZNmri_U5NVXfLa4ok/s320/falling_woman_med.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177606882440889778" /><div> She was so shocked at what happened that she just gazed at me in bewilderment. I probably had a pretty perplexed look on my face too. The first thing I did was help her up while apologizing like a hundred times. I asked if she was okay and she just stood there in silence looking at me. It was the kind of look somebody gives you after they just woke up. That kind of freaked me out a little bit. I felt like she had gone into a coma standing up. After a few seconds she tells me that she thinks she is alright and then slowly turns around and walks away. I stood there for a minute trying to wrap my brain around what just happened. Brandon was about ten feet away waiting for me. We took off running again and right when we got out of sight, he started laughing uncontrollably, which set off my laughter. It is only funny because she was okay. Then about 4 minutes later I almost ran over a guy riding by on his bicycle. After that I decided to slow down and watch where I was going. For the rest of the day Brandon was making comments about how I almost killed an old lady. That is until one of our last runs. We started running down 2nd south and we see a girl riding on a skateboard in front of us with her back to us. Brandon tells me to try not to hit the girl as we pass by. Well, right before we got to her the guy that she was with tells her to watch out, which causes her to jump off her skateboard and land right in Brandon's path. He slammed right into her and knocked her up against the glass wall that makes up the bus stop. We didn't even wait until we were out of sight to start laughing at that. She was fine...at least physically, so we just kept going. He didn't say anything to me about hitting the old lady after that.</div><div><br /></div><div>In other news, I have been really happy the last couple of days, which is something that I have learned to appreciate. I have been reading the scriptures more frequently and enjoying my time at church and institute. I read a scripture today that helped me understand better what it is that I need to be doing. It is in Mosiah 4:30, this is what it says:</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>"But this much I can tell you, that if ye do not watch yourselves, and your thoughts, <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>and your words, and your deeds, and observe the commandments of God, and<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>continue in the faith of what ye have heard concerning the coming of our Lord, <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>even unto the end of your lives, ye must perish. And now, O man, remember, and <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>perish not."<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>It is sometimes hard to stay focused on everything that I need to do in order to stay happy, but this scripture pretty much sums it up. If I can remember to "watch myself," I wont have to perish. President Kimball said that the most important word in the dictionary was "remember." Remember, remember, that it is upon the rock of our redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation (Helaman 5:12). O remember, remember that these things are true; for the Lord God hath spoken it (Mosiah 2:41). </div><div><br /></div><div>Lets not forget.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Jacob Parryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05290520569293588011noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348741655999205516.post-79867920633737928022008-02-28T10:38:00.000-08:002008-02-29T19:17:29.479-08:005 Down, 1 to goAfter just over a year of this blogging epidemic started by Zach, I have been infected with the desire to start one of my own.<div><br /></div><div>I just spend the last 30 minutes studying how each one of my siblings started their own blogs and found some interesting things. Zach started his blog on the 23rd of February of last year by saying it was just a "trial basis." Little did he know what kind of effect he would have on others by inspiring them to start their own blogs. Just a little side now, pay close attention to the dates each blog was started. Jessica started hers on July 30th. Her blog started with her saying it was inspired by the success of Zach's blog. She liked the idea of sharing family happenings and fun facts. Just 2 days later the blogging virus hit my little sister Audrey. On August 1st Audge bloDgE was born. She thought that writing a blog while at the same time being interesting wouldn't be as hard as she originally thought it would be because "if everyone found Zach's life interesting enough, then you will be very easy to please." Not much time had past when Eliza's blog came to be. The date was September 28th. She thought that writing a blog would force her to make her life more interesting as to not bore her audience. She also wanted to share her thoughts on the many movies that she sees. It is now February 28th of 2008. Now, if we look at the dates of when each blog was started we will find a very interesting pattern. Zach started his at the end of February. 5 months later Jessica got one, which created a cluster effect in which Audrey and Eliza both created their own. From Eliza's at the end of September until now, 5 months later, we have successfully created a chiasm. All within a period of one year. Cool huh?</div><div><br /></div><div>Now, I have decided to start my own blog at the request of several of my friends and family members. The pressure from my peers overpowered my ability to fight against them any longer. If you can't beat them...Blog.</div><div><br /></div><div>Zach, Eliza, Jessica, Audrey and I have done it...5 down, 1 to go...C'mon Mikey.</div>Jacob Parryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05290520569293588011noreply@blogger.com7