Christmas gifts

Circa December 25, 2011

I simply wanted to make a Christmas post.

The Christmas season (and Christmas in particular) seemed to sneak up on me this year.  Another has come and gone.  Time to reflect fondly on the food and festivities which are now past; time to look forward to the use of the presents we have received and reliving the memories which have been made.  But only now that everything has died down.  Christmas, for many, has become one of the most hectic and stressful times of the year:  there are presents to buy, events to plan, visits to make, treats to prepare...

As I retreated to my room after all had calmed, I realized that I still had one gift I had failed to acknowledge throughout the day.  Every Christmas, nestled behind all the trees and presents, the lights and the shopping, lies a babe in a manger.  Instead of festive paper and a gaudy bow, he is wrapped in swaddling clothing.  Yes, quiet as the child who made no crying as he spent his first night in a stable is the message of the birth of the Savior throughout each Christmas season.

So often it seems time is spent focused on what can or will be gained each year at about this time.  It also seems to me that of more worth is to reflect on what was gained on a silent night some two millennia ago when the Christ child was born.  Through the birth of Jesus Christ, we received his ministry and his sacrifice.  Through the ministry of Jesus Christ, we gained the purest of doctrine, the blueprints for a happy life, and a perfect example of how to live one.  Through the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, we gained the ability to feel peace, to overcome ourselves and our circumstance, and his resurrection.  Through the resurrection of Jesus Christ, we gained life beyond this, and a chance at eternal happiness.  Truly he has given us more than any other, as he has given us all that he was and the opportunity to gain all that he has.

As I sit here Christmas night, I truly am grateful for a gift that we all have received freely—a gift that gave and keeps on giving.  And although we have received much without a cost, yet more is available if we are but willing to pay the simple price of trusting him—a man who, through no obligation, gave everything for us to have the chance to be happy.  The extent to which we can benefit from this gift depends on our own degree of acceptance.  I hope we can learn to accept it more with each passing day.

Sexy jerky

Rant.

What the heck is the recent obsession with Mick Jagger?  There seems to be an influx in pop-culture references to good ole Mick as being the ideal of sexiness and desirability.  Ke$ha and her friends refuse to give heed to any young suitors unless they look like Mick Jagger.  Maroon 5 attempts to seduce either you or me or some inferred protagonist by claiming to have and be able to demonstrate "moves like Jagger."  I don't know if you've had the extreme pleasure of seeing Mick Jagger, but, in my opinion, he's one of the grossest human beings alive.  Coming from Ke$ha, I suppose it's not really surprising.  From Adam Levine, it sounds like a bit of a downgrade.  But either way, stop.  If you're trying to be cool, sexy, or alluring, pick something... well... cool, sexy, or alluring.  If you're trying to seduce hungry bros on roadtrips, keep referencing Jagger, because in all honesty he looks like beef jerky.

Rant over.

Paradise

Circa December 20, 2011

Today, for me, is a special day in history.

Yes, reader, today is the day that Flanders adopted the Gregorian calendar!  Back in 1582!  It was also the day John Jay became the 1st secretary of state, making foreign affairs okay (1784)!  It was also the day the first US Skating Club and Junior High were formed (1849 & 1909, respectively)!  Where would we all be today without Skating Clubs and Junior High?!  Haha, man....

...oh it is also the anniversary of the day I returned from an LDS mission in the Dominican Republic (circa 2008).

Yes that fateful day 3 plump years ago.  I was actually supposed to get home the 18th at around 10 pm, but, because of inclement weather conditions, it took a day and a half and seven airports to finally make it home.  So December 20th at 4 a.m. it was.  Needless to say, it was good to be home.

And it is good to be home.  Though I do very much miss the mission.  It was easily the hardest and most influential experience I have had to date.  I simply wanted to voice my gratitude for having been able to go, and to those who helped me have the desire to.  By the very nature of the work I was doing, it caused me to look outside myself and think about others.  It caused me to work harder than I ever had before.  It helped me to understand and be grateful for and humble about things that I likely would not have even recognized otherwise.  It helped me to come to know myself and what I believe about a variety of things very intimately.  I met people that forever changed me.  It bent me, broke me, shaped me, and rebuilt me into something that is unconditionally better.  It really is hard to put into words, but I will love the Dominican Republic forever.  To me, it is a sacred place.  I arrived as a 20 year old, redhead American boy, lost out of my mind and overwhelmed.  But it was in those narrow alley ways, cramped apartments, and packed taxis, that culture shock, tribulation, and tropical paradise, that I found myself.  Who would've ever guessed that's where I was hiding?  But either way, I'm glad I ended up there so I could.  And luckily, despite customs, I was able to bring a piece of paradise home with me.

The Exception

So I've heard that luck is a lady.  If this is true, she must be hanging out with Carmen Sandiego because I'm pretty sure I haven't the foggiest where the heck she is.  Ever. 

I was taking a final this morning that consisted of over 50 multiple-choice questions.  That's a lot of choices.  ...and opportunities to choose... poorly.  It was one of those tests where I could narrow it down to being one of two of the four options, but between those two I had no idea.  Therefore, the narrowing didn't do me much good.  In fact, I think it stressed me out even more.  It's like on Who Wants To Be A Millionaire when the person uses the 50-50 lifeline and it eliminates the two options they already knew were wrong, leaving them with the two they were debating between in the first place. 

I don't know if it's just me, but I am horrible at guessing in situations like that.  I think my luck is bad enough to undermine the very authority of descriptive statistics.  I can almost guarantee you that I do not guess correctly at a 50% clip, which is what statistics state should be mathematic law.  Also according to stats, this should happen rarely ever, but it should happen:  How scrumptious would it be if you were to guess correctly on most of the questions you didn't know?  I mean, it has to happen every once in a while.  Why not to me?  Right now?

Moral of the story:  Life's not fair and I defy math.  They say there is an exception to every rule, and I guess I am the exception to math.  It is, therefore, in indignance that I supplicate the proofs behind binomial distributions and demand that my guessing skills be made better.  I may be bad at math, but I don't think it's too much to ask for me to be subject to the basic rules of statistics. 

Other moral of the story:  Luck may be a lady, but she's a saucy and a flighty wench and she should settle down and show up a bit more often.