I Have Never Been Hungrier.

I had a crappy (sorry, there's that PG rating rearing its ugly head again) week this week, due mostly to being overwhelmed by my frankly overwhelming capacity for failure. It's times like these when I unfortunately turn most to video games and stomachaches for my solace. I say unfortunately because it doesn't really do much to alleviate the craptitude of the time as it crawls by (and sometimes teases me by convincing me it's going backwards). I had hypnosis performed on me today, as a side note, which at the very least was incredible at making me want to feel peaceful forever. Not recommended for participation while driving, though. If the reasons are not obvious, then perhaps driving itself ought not to be recommended in your case.

Speaking of having my best friends leave me forever for the East Coast or go on missions to Central America or Western Europe, a fourth best friend of mine got married today. Like the others, I feel less abandoned than the victim of others' forward progress. But gee whiz if that reception didn't make want to get all kinds of married as soon as possible. Oh, and the ice cream. Did you know there's a wedding cake flavor? There is. Enough said.

You might be wondering why I didn't blog this week until today. Well, just like printed newspapers of yore (those things aren't around anymore, are they?), my blog is apparently printed in issues and volumes. Oh, or rather, an opus and a number. Maybe each post here can get something like its own Kochel number, like Mozart. I just need to be studied on a university level and be considered a major contributor and my blog a contribution to the field of art and academia. So this is season or volume or opus the second, episode or issue or number the first, in increasing order of potential for airs of snootiness. Maybe I am the Great American Novel.

Speaking of which, it's about that time of life (specifically, after a quarter of a century) where it's time to get cracking on my memoirs. The main contender for the title at this point will have to be something like Megalomania: Why the Rest of You Might as Well Quit Trying.

Also went to Temple Square today with some friends. Now that place is just a recipe for tender memories. Not to mention there was some fresh bread being baked somewhere nearby that I could not stop smelling. Nor did I ever want to. Gracious me, am I hungry now after writing this.

Bump, Scrape, Screech.

Have you ever sneezed so hard that a string instrument on the other side of your room started resonating? Because, let me tell you, it is an experience. I don't know whether to be proud about this or not. I mean, I did it, but anyone could have. Why was I chosen? Too many questions, not enough time. Life is a mystery to me.

Last night as I was riding the elevator up to my floor, I took regretful note of a ticket stub lying on the elevator floor. Somebody had seen White House Down, starring Jamie Foxx and Channing Tatum, and was not ashamed enough of their film choice to hide, incinerate, or destroy the proof. Don't they know elevators have cameras? Didn't they know that, unlike books, some movies can be wisely judged by their covers? Do I really want to be living among people who fail to exercise the most elementary levels of prejudice at the box office? Too many questions.

So we went swimming last night for a surprise party for Dear Little Sister. Balloons, pizza, pop, fun, and friendship were had by all. The chips didn't quite make the rounds as well as the friendship or the pizza, but a couple people were lucky enough to get some samples.

Then as I was dropping off some folks at their apartment after the party, I had a completely fine drive with responsible and prescient navigating skills that kept both myself and my car unscathed and fit for travel. It was entirely uneventful, as my driving often is, and one wonders why I bother to mention it at all. One might wonder if I'm telling the truth. Well, One might really want to tone it back a bit with the questions, all right? I'm sure One isn't half as perfect as they make themselves out to be, so let's, can we all, I mean, just forget it, all right? Too many questions.

There Is Yet Hope for Humanity.

Happy Pioneer Day, everyone! What is that, you ask? You don't get the day off from your daily labors? I'm sorry to hear that. Next time, try living in a state that commemorates the Mormon pioneers' westward exodus. I don't think I even knew about this holiday before I moved out here. It's definitely bigger than Independence Day. I would like to see Will Smith in a blockbuster about traveling west in a handcart, but racing aliens to get there or something. Wouldn't you? You know you would pay to see that, too. That's the magic of Pioneer Day. I think. Or so I'm told.

Went swimming last night in my apartment's vast first-floor pool complex, with some friends who wanted to see it and go swimming there. So, "swimming" is a strong word, I admit. My feet got wet, anyway. While we were there I was drawn to reviewing the pros and cons of living at my apartment complex. A huge pro is that everyone here is way nicer than anywhere else I've lived. Everywhere else, people walk right by you without even looking at you, no matter how much you go out of your way to make eye contact. It is anathema to those people.

Not so, here: everyone I run into not only says "hi" but tries to start a conversation with you. The first couple times this happened to me, I was genuinely confused. Had this guy just moved in? Why won't he respect the sanctity of my urban solitude? But, being from the good ol' Midwest, that wall quickly came tumbling down. I love it, and I never want to leave, not until the exact moment a better offer presents itself.

Guys, yesterday the unthinkable happened. I poured my cereal from a new box and a toy fell out. It was Trix. It was a promotional toy for Despicable Me 2. But it was magnificent. It happened just the way they show it on TV: serendipitously, falling into my bowl like a magnificent limited-edition marshmallow would be, shining for all the world to see. That's when I knew. That's when I knew the world still had hope and a fighting chance. Happy Pioneer Day!