10/03 - 12/01

Weeks #6-14

Stuff.

9/28/09 - 10/02/09

Week #5

Class Attendence Percentage: 100%

• • Construction Scheduling: EXAM 1 / concealing amount of float days from subcontractors is important to reduce delays between activities
  • Construction Law: When using custom contracts if question of ambiguity arises the courts will construe against party who created contract.
  • Commercial Real Estate: Tenant Cycle
  • FPM Technologies: Tour of BYU/LDS Server Rooms
  • Public Assembly Facilities: Tour of Marriot Center - Risk Mgmt noone allowed on catwalk as soon as event has opened doors to public
  • Human & Environmental Mngmt: Fire Extinguisher Training. Classifications of Extinguishers A,B,C,D,K or solids, liquids, electrical, metal, food products. Most are ABC and will lose pressure after 8 -16yrs

9/07/09 - 9/11/09

Week #2

Class Attendence Percentage: 75%

• Construction Scheduling: Foundation walls need 3 days before back fill. However compression loads i.e. framing can be installed the next day.

• Construction Law: Both Federal and State courts have an appellate levels where no new testimony or evidence is presented

• Commercial Real Esate: NO CLASS
• FPM Technologies: A hub, switch, and router are all the same thing but have increasing levels of intelligence
• Public Assembly Facilities: Quiz and stuff
• Human & Environmental Mngmt: NO CLASS

This Week in LEARNING

For my own amusement/benefit I've decided to start this new segment as a way of answer the common question, "So what did you learn in school this week?" Which is actually harder to verbalize that I initially thought; but thinking is the name of the game in 45 of the lower 48 states, so there you have it.

Week #1 AUG 31 - SEPT 4

Class Attendence Percentage: 59%

• Construction Scheduling: Scheduling provides a visual goal for all of your subcontractors and project managers creating urgency for every part of the project. Technical Level - 2

• Construction Law: Unless I get an MBA or JD or both I'll be pigeonholed into a job with a glass ceiling in the corporate world. Importance Level - 8

• Commercial Real Esate: Increasing the Net Operating Income by $1 = $200 value increase to the property given NOI/Cap Rate = Present Value Applicable Level - 9
• FPM Technologies: I skipped to go have a late lunch with a friend. Value Level: 1
• Public Assembly Facilities: This class is all about my old job at the FBG Event Center
• Human & Environmental Mngmt: Different municipalities use different codes, be familiar with your region.

The Life and Times of Forrest Gump

It doesn't take a lot to get me all nostalgic and glazy eyed thinking and pondering about years past. Tonight it was watching Forrest Gump that got me. In 1994 I was 12 years old when I went with the family to see the academy award nominated film, old enough to get the plot, humor, and message of the story, and yet 14 years later it things I missed are now better understood or rather understood as only the passing of time can explain. Everything that happens in the film happens in the world before my time. A thirty year collection of snapshots and pop culture references to an America that I've only seen in books, on television, or in the stories of those who lived through it. It is because of this that we who were not a part of its making can only sympathize with the often bias or incomplete interpretations delivered to us by the mentioned sources. We'll never remember where we were when JFK was shot, when Armstrong walked to moon, or what any of the other iconic moments or periods of those distinct decades of the 50s, 60s, and 70s were truly like. Now that's not to say that history is dead, that we are not living through what will one day be regarded as pivotal , groundbreaking, or the distinguishing events of our time. But, there is a bitterness that lingers on the realization that that which was will never be a part of who we, the generation born after, are made from. Already, the effects of time can be seen as that which we 80s babies take for common knowledge is lost on the youth. They have no remembrance of a cold war, of the first Persian gulf war, or a world without Internet and cell phones. Even a mention of 9-11 is only a date in history books and brings no direct and personal emotional impact on those who were too young in the Fall of 2001 to remember it. Like Bob Seger's "Against the Wind" the march of time pushes our birth year farther into the past, laying ground for the new crop. And like the song and the film everyone is trying to find purpose and meaning to their meager 30,000 days in this world; to make it mean something, even if that means only to themselves.
But Gump, in his simpleness, found purpose and meaning without all the weight and burden a more developed mind might have bogged him down with. An illustrious college football career was followed by a tour to Vietnam, where at least three men, who would have died - some say needlessly - lived thanks to him. Upon returning home his peculiar talent of ping pong ball prowess allowed him to afford his first shrimp boat that later led to a multimillion dollar business, brought Bubba's family out of poverty through his generosity, and restored self worth and peace to the suicidal and bitter Lt. Dan. And who could forget the prodigal daughter Jenny? After years of sowing wild oats, she comes home to the one man who was constant and safe in her life. But sick with terminal illness she must leave behind her son with his father because she knows he'll be as good to little Forrest has he was to her. At her graveside, Forrest shares the simple and profound wisdom that the movie (book) are based on, "I don't know if we each have a destiny, or if we're all just floating around accidental-like on a breeze, but I, I think maybe it's both. Maybe both is happening at the same time."
Like the feather that is the prologue and epilogue to the movie, seemingly carried on a wind without thought or reason Forrest has found his way into the lives of numerous people whose fates may have been drastically altered if not for a chain of seemingly random coincidences. I guess Sally Field really was right about life and that damned box of chocolates.
What I'm getting at, I can't say for certain. Maybe it's about the realization of divinity in our daily lives or service to our fellow man, or how we should stop and embrace the present because one day it, like the twentieth century and all her days, will be gone; and all the while, worry less about the future and regret less what has passed. For now I'd like to think that its about how it's OK not to have things figured out entirely and embrace that which beyond our control. But it's 1:00 AM now, so in the words of my esteemed subject of topic, "that's all I have to say about that."

Camping half-cocked = 400 mile road trip

Follow the markers. They tell the tale.

ViewHalf-Cocked Camping in a larger map

Go to ImageShack® to Create your own Slideshow

The Subway Blunder

Wednesday. The last day of tests. Two taken. Real Estate at 2pm in the testing center, Drafting and Design at 5:45pm in class. I escape the testing center's talons a litte before 4 and the waiting line has grown from a modest trickle to a Ho Chi Minh trail of croc-footed underclassmen that is wrapped all the way from the Testing Center downstairs door, beyond the JSB, and almost all the way towards the Eyring science center (about 200m). I look upon the hundreds of faces with both pity and a condescending sense of "i told you so". What did they expect waiting until the afternoon of the last day of finals? I stop thinking about the test waiting line about the time that I'm in another line, consequently, looking at sandwich options. I narrow my choice down to "The Feast" whose salami, black forest ham, and pepperoni call out to me as a bounteous reward for my labors of the day. I decide to go with the six inch, no need to overkill, plus it would be like $10 for the footlong. As the salivation begins the Vegetable Guy takes the sandwich and asks with an air of impatience "whose sandwich is this?" while looking at me. I give him my requests - a hearty list of condiments and greens. Then he moves the sandwich aside and pulls up the next sandwich and asks his monotone monotonous question he's programmed to ask. I look down and this new sandwich, the one with no vegetables on it, is mine. My heart collapses into my stomach, I've just ruined someone else's sandwich with my copious collection of customized chiles. He keeps calling out for the owner of this new sandwich, but I'm dedicated to not responding. I can't, the words betray me, I quickly debate the pros and cons of pulling a 180 and leaving the scene of the crime, but there are too many witnesses, I'll be caught for sure and I'll still be hungry. So I stay, awaiting exposure and judgement, and the guy in front of me comes back to see his precious FOOTLONG veggie delight saturated in creamy southwest chipotle sauce and onions - the witch hunt and subsequent trial has begun.  Surrendering, I have to explain to both Vegetable Man and Veggie Delight Boy, that I, by proxy, ordered for his sandwich. They look at me like I've set a kitten on fire and can't comprehend what kind of monster would do such a thing. In the lingering confusion, Bread Girl comes over and explains that a new sandwich must be made to atone for the sins of the first sandwich, which must now be cast down into outer trashness where there will be wailing and gnashing of teeth and probably mold. Sheepishly, I apologize to Veggie Boy as I pass him in line, but he's clearly not even going to humor me with a faux acceptance of apology. Oh well, at least now I can sulk away to the corners of the cougar eat and consume my tasty and guilt ridden "Feast". 

The End.

Bored

English: I'm bored
Latvian: Man ir garlaicīgi or Es garlaikojos (I spend time being bored / doing boring things)
Russian: Мне скучно
Spanish: Estoy aburrido
German: Mir ist es langweilig
Czech: Nudím se
Portuguese: Estou entediado
Dutch: Ik verveel me
Chinese: 我很无聊
Japanese: つまらないな
Thai: buồn thấy mẹ
Arabic: انا زهقت
African: Click clack clock
French: I'm gay
Swedish: jag är uttråkad
Finnish: minua kyllästyttää
Serbian: Досадно ми је
Greek: Βαριέμαι Πλήττω

Fruits of my Labor

_________________________





____________

Turning Frowns upside down (and then rightside up)

I got the following email this morning from my Real Estate teacher.

I hope all of you felt great after finding out that you scored 100% on the exam. The testing center made an error when they gave you the immediate report for your exam scores. I was informed that the error will be corrected, and you will be able to view your final scores on the T/F and M/Choice portion tomorrow. It will take them a day to post the new/correct information.

I hope you all enjoyed your "day in the sun." And the testing center is "really sorry."

There was about 5 seconds after taking that exam when i was looking up at the scoreboard and thinking to myself, "Hey, I'm pretty smart, you know I studied and everything and all my work has paid off. Yay for ME!". And then Uncle Reason paid a visit to my brain and reminded me of how I've NEVER gotten a 100 on a BYU testing center exam, and for that to happen today on one of my most difficult classes I've had to date was unlikely at best, nigh impossible.

But it was a good five seconds, all the same.

2009: Year of the Prank

Tuscon Arizona Comcast Customers got more then they bargained for when after the last touchdown by the Arizona Cardinals, their signal was switched to some rather lewd pornographic imagery, more than likely based on the narration of of Ed Norton from Fight Club.



Then today, this appeared on highway road signs.

Click Picture For Link

I have a theory that an underground prank movement like that of Project Mayhem from Fight Club is forming Nationwide; and i want in.

Thankfulness

It dawned on me as I sat at a dirty booth at my neighborhood Beto's this brisk November morning, that I have quite a lot to be thankful for this holiday season. And most of them are related, ironically enough, to that very special proprietorship I was visiting, known the region-over as Beto's.
Their breakfast burritos put all others to shame, inasmuch that I declare that we no longer classify them burritos, but jurritos instead - thus retaining their distinction of tortilla rolled amazement of human ingenuity, but also acknowledging that they are in fact massive, dare I say, Jumbo in proportion to their smaller, more feeble cousins that plague convenience stores and other such eateries. But the marvelous work and wonder does not end there my friends; oh no. It lives on in their beverages, their condiments, and their service. Today I discovered their latest contribution to an awe inspired world. Guacamole. Your perplexity will be short lived, I assure you ~ allow me to explain. As a percentage of you know, their is a little place (built on drug trafficking monies) call Mamacita's in central Texas. Now at Mamacitias, they serve a very special chip dip that most pass of as mere "green sauce" when in actuality it is Tomatillo salsa. Nowhere else have I tasted that subtle yet superfluously bold taste of sweet mild goodness. UNTIL today where I specifically asked if tomatillos were used to enhance the already glorious guacamole. You can imagine how happy I was when told that my suspicions where in fact DEAD ON!
Yes friends, Thanksgiving is a time to remember the most important things in life, perhaps more so in this time of turmoil and uncertainty. But no matter what the future may hold for each of us, we can take comfort in knowing that out there in this big blue world are copious mounds of delicious mexican-style jurritos available day or night, 24/7, come hell or high water, just waiting for someone to love them. May we all live to be such a jurrito loving people is my prayer; Amen.

P.S.
Also, guns. I'm thankful for guns.

Insomniatic Device

Should any of you nice folk have a solution as to "what to do at 3am when you can't sleep but have to get up in 4.5 hours", please post it in the comment box below.

Answers not acceptable include, but are not limited to the following;
1. Try and wake up before 2pm on Saturdays
2. Save caffeine beverages for midday not midnight
3. Playstations are fun, just not all-night-prudent fun

Test Day for Grayson

Hilarious.

The Wussification of American Children

About an hour ago a friend of mine introduced me to one of my brand new favorite-est websites

THE ART OF MANLINESS

The shear volume of information and direct nature of the text really outshines any alleged Man's Magazine that you would see at the local grocery store. Plus, it has a vintage feel of 19th century art and imagery - which goes against the grain of the post-modern GQ womanizer image that is thrust upon us today. Anywho, one of the articles under Relationships and Family was titled (and subsequently linked)

Quit Coddling Your Kids

It's a quick 5 minute read with a very interesting 9 minute video attachment that discusses how parenting has altered since the time of the baby boomers right up to Gen X parents. The synopsis was that as parents spent less time with their children, their personal needs for acceptance and validation as a loving parent drove them to behave as the child's friend more so than a traditional role of mother or father. As Gen X babies grew up with more and more lax environments they too subsequently portrayed even more exacerbated behavior.

"Generation X parents are even worse about coddling their kids. To many many Gen X parents, children are just an accessory you get to dress up with ironic t-shirts and fauxhawks."

Most of my blogs have been more theoretical, even borderline rhetorical, not allowing for a lot of direct dialogue and interaction with the audience (that's you, btw). And seeing that both you Aubry and Susan & Justin and Jessica both have lovely young daughters of your own. I wanted to see what your reaction was to the article and video above.
How willing and able do you think you could be at allowing your children to engage in potentially dangerous situations without supervision?
As this trend of hyper-protectivity (not a real word) continues and your children's peers are winy little brats who always get what they want and are rewarded for mediocrity, what will you do to educated them on how they will be held to higher standards, etc?
I'm sure you've thought of these things; maybe even tried to put them in the back of your mind and just enjoy the first "simple" years without all this hoopla and sociocultural issues.
But even the first years have such impressionable periods and lessons to be learned in regards to the child's relationship to others, risk v. reward, work ethic, and even vital developmental skills that can't be achieved from a glass bubble or a Dora the Explorer interactive DVD set (i don't even know if such a thing exists yet, but it will).

At any rate, they're your kids; so the bachelors philosophy may not carry as much weight as he would like, but I thought it would be fun food-4-thought.

On a side note, Albertson's was having a sale on Pomegranate Blueberry Juice (next to the simply orange and other beverages) and it is exquisitely yummy.

Hormel v. PETA

Now, i consider myself an animal lover just as much as the next guy (preferably medium rare and well seasoned), but beyond the realm of satirical humor the following is as far from funny as can be. A recent investigation by PETA revels very disturbing and downright perverse actions on the part of pig farm workers that are suppliers for Hormel, the biggest name in pork since Wilber. Now, everyone knows that a slaughterhouse is no picnic for the main ingredient in that #4 combo you bought at the drive-thru window recently, but if you don't wanna lose your stomach (as I almost did) I encourage you NOT to click the below link. These are some sadistic and vile people and I hope the entire industry gets a look at and violators of such actions are held accountable.
Now, I doubt Hormel has adequate knowledge about these actions, and if this video gains enough press - they'll disavow all involvement, cancel the supplier, and make some donation to save face.

PETA PIG FARM VIDEO - viewer discretion is advised

The 7 a.m. Blues

The night was sultry. A vulnerable Grayson has just been possessed by a demonic force that forces him to log into BYU and sign up for classes far too early for any normal Adams to endure. With a swift click of the mouse his victim's fate is sealed. Now for 4 months the wretched youth shall be bound the bugling call of the angel of death, a small alarm clock, with beady red numbers and the cry of a banshee descended from the line of the eternally annoying Fran Drescher.
Woe to this student of sorrow!!!!!!

Yes, it helps me find a parking space before all the other clones have even had a chance at stumbling out their front doors, but getting to school at 6:45?!?! Jeez louise; it's murder, I tell ya.

My Secret? Clear and Clear Morning Burst Face "Stuff".

Perks you right up, well - sort of.

Step 1: Manage to get in shower without opening eyes
Step 2: Grope around for the right bottle of "stuff"
Step 3: Lather Face and inhale like you're Rick James at an 80s coke party
Step 4: Stand under cascading steaming water until motor skills become fully functional (approximately 15min)

The Hyperbolic Eclair of Death & Other Tales

The weekend of Aug 1-2 began with great perilous peril and ended in a near diabetic coma.
These are the facts.
For some time now I've been itching to test out my new gear and see the wilds of Washington. Well after some half@ss planning, alleged miscommunications, strategic coaxing, and bad weather to boot, we (Myself, Todd R., Nathan R. (brother of Todd R.)) finally loaded up the truck with the kayaks and gear and shipped out NW towards our destination 1.5 hours behind schedule.
The "plan" was to take the 3 kayaks up from Longbranch 2 nautical miles before low tide through Pit Passage towards a little place called Pit Island (imaginative, I know) and stay the night after playing three man capture the flag with glow sticks as flags (ingenious, by the way).
Preliminary satellite reconnaissance provided by Google surveillance confirmed previously established intel from multiple sources that the island was A) uninhabited and 2); yes, "two", adequately secluded.
Fun Sentence, BTW ~ go me.
We would be able to launch from a harbor and ride the tide out hugging the coast of McNeil Island. It would go swimmingly perfect. Or so we thought. DUHN DUHN DUUUUUUHN!!!!!
After stopping for a pizza (remember the coaxing bit?) we grabbed the last bit of gear we needed from another Rawlings sibling that lives up the way and were in the water with the sun already ducking its radioactive head behind the horizon. After a quick lie to the dockmaster about us going to somewhere that is legal to kayak we were off. The water was mildly choppy and brisk and the going was relatively easy.
Then, as dark began to fall we noticed that not 300 yards from pit island were people launching fireworks on the other shore (See Map 2, Point A). Thus, in the true manner of white man deception we proceeded to kayak beyond Pit island on the eastside using the island to block the view of those on shore. (Y) As we landed on on the rocky shores of the far side we noticed what seemed to be rather new signs measuring 8'x4' "PROPERTY OF McNEIL ISLAND, MAINTAIN CLEARANCE OF 100 YARDS"
Turns out McNeil houses a medium security prison less than 2 miles from where we were.... Awesome.
So now we've surveyed the eastside of the island and because of cliffs (10-20') we cant get to the ideal camping site without approaching from the westside of the island. Back in the boats. Using bird calls, hand signals and telepathy we ninja stealth paddled around the backside of Pit Island under a clouded night sky. (From Y -> Z) At which point a 50 billion halogen flood light went on at another residence close by where the fireworks were going off. (B) Now, having been in this situation before, I was keen on the fact that when lights seem to be "right on you" in fact those standing near the light source have limited visibility beyond a certain range depending on the focus of the beam.
Note to Aubry: A certain set of truck headlights at a certain ranch on a certain moonless night come to mind, if I remember correctly. "Oh Sh*t, Oh Sh*t, we're gonna die!"
With Kayaks carried and stowed away behind another "Get the Hell of this Island" big ole sign (Z) we proceed to take the essentials to the predetermined campsite to set up. (X) Unfortunately we had already decided, given the circumstances, that a fire would not be advisable.
Now, I don't know what is was, but for some reason, this island and the situation was as scary as all get out.

Oh wait, I do remember. BONES.
BONES, EFFING, EVERYWHERE, AND NO WILDLIFE, RIGHT WHERE WE'RE SETTING UP CAMP.

Nathan: What's that right there?
Todd: Looks like a rib to me.
Grayson: Yeah but not a human rib, it's too small (the rational scientific analytical answerer)
Todd (holding the rib up to his chest cavity where it fits perfectly: Sure about that?

Then every freaky sound imaginable happens, Blair Witch Project style. Stuff falling out of trees, rockslides coming from McNeil Island, (C) Blood-curdling screams of "Help me, Help me! Oh sweet mercy, he's got a chainsaw and a hockey mask!" The whole nine yards.

Twenty Minutes later there is over 600lbs of Man in my lightweight backpacking tent that was clearly designed for 1.5 real people, 2 Asians, or 4 oompa-loompas, but not 3 grown heterosexual men. Bad night all around, I'd have to say; complete with nightmares and snoring to boot. And considering that I had a full Ziploc back of trail mix right outside the tent door I was a bit concerned about ravenous aquatic bears. I've never regretted not bring my gun with me more than then. Oh, and patrol boats were all over the place too. And the glowsticks didn't glow.

I hate you, Lowes Hardware.

Click adjacent map for full details.

Stuff happened Saturday morning, but is of little consequence until we come to the meaning of the title of this blog.
You see, there's this little restaurant called the Claim Jumper , originally out of Californi-way. And they have AMAZING foods (including a burger called "The Widowmaker") and house honey mustard sauce. We went there, and we gorged ourselves. Then however, against all logical data about how much the human stomach and digestive system can hold, we ordered this mammoth dessert called the I Declair. Ice Cream based, homemade eclair atop with whipped cream and fudge bundled around and over everything. Enough said? It was the bestworst thing I've ever done with food to this day. Went to bed at 5pm, woke up at noon the next day.

Kinda like how I feel right now. So if you were looking for a conclusionary summary. and closure? Bite me.

I Buy with My Little Eye...

I don't remember exactly what triggered me, but I came to the decision that my life should be spend more outdoors than it currently is (lived). And where better to get campy than in the evergreen state - amirite? So a quick trip to REI and a few hundred bucks later I'm prepped and ready for any number of solo expositions into the unknown. So much for living with a budget, right? Yeah, my self control is total weaksauce. But look at all this awesome swag!

Katadyn Viro Microfilter: capable of filtering over 500 gallons at variable speeds depending on the purity of the source, AND can be attached directly to a bottle or camelbak intake valve. Awesome.



Second. when you're cold and in the wilds, it all boils down to core temperature and layering. Answer - Vests. The fact that this one also destroys windshear and looks sweet is a bonus, as well.


Lastly, (and this has been a needed addition for many a year) is a the Lost Ranger +15F Sleeping "System" from Big Agnes. 600 fill goose down with built-in sleeve for air mattress ensures that you'll never slippy slide off in the middle of the night finding yourself atop a jagged rock in your kidney. At under 3 pounds is perfect for backpacking and versatile enough for camping in warmer to moderate climates. And what I didn't fully realize before, is that REI is mega-anal about customer satisfaction inasmuch that if you're not 100% AT ANY TIME return the item for refund or exchange. No questions asked AND at the end of the year 10% of purchases are returned to the customer as a dividend. Frickin A, man.
So now all we need is a good sunny weekend, a destination, and a map. I probably won't be summiting Mount. St. Helens anytime soon, but hey. You never know - there is a Mt. Adams just a hop skip and jump east of there. Maybe it would be a good psychological and metaphorical achievement.

Am I a Material Girl?

No. I don't listen to Madonna.

Let's just make that abundantly clear right here and now.

However, I~having recently acquired a paycheck for two weeks of laborious labors~ have experienced a very typical American reaction to getting money.

The dire & mindless need to spend it as fast & shameless as humanly possible.

Prior to receiving the said paycheck I had schemed down on a list (oh, how I love to make lists, and lists of lists) how I would divvy up each paycheck for optimum financial gain.

10% - Tithing ( we're hoping God knows a good credit repair guy)
10% - Long Term Savings (liquid)
10% - Investment Pool
20% - Outstanding Debt Service on Credit Cards and Student Loans
30% - Provo Rent and other obligatory payments
20% - Feel Good Money

I was very proud of this little formula until I actually deposited the funds at my local Wells Fargo.
Not two weeks later and I am now back where I started. No I didn't blow it on ammo, cheap thrills and gadgetry (more on that later) the student loan sharks took most of it, and then OPEC claimed a nice chunk, and then I have myself to blame for some luxuries associated with food and racquetball.

Too much month and the end of the money - they always say. Damn straight, people.

However, I have one happy discipline story to be had from all of this.

As the Moores already know, I haven't had a phone upgrade since '04, and the darn thing is nearly busted. Well, yours truly had his eye on a pretty little iPhone competitor called Sprint Instinct. Which has a number of advantageous features over the the Gen 1 iPhone, mind you.

Unfortunately the plan for all the bells and whistles would end up being some where around $1000 a year..... I'm not going to pay a grand just so I can check my friggin email in between classes or on the road, and even if the GPS and touchscreen and 8GB memory and digital voicemail and web browser and hi resolution streaming video are all super snazzy I can't justify the cost compared with what my avg usage would be. So, I've decided to dip my toe into the icy waters of the law of sacrifice pool by getting a simpler phone that will not be so hard on a wallet that's already been shot and bled dry. I know. Big step for us 21st century saints - giving up the latest and greatest communications device, but there you have it. Tuesday is payday again, and this time I'll be biting the bullet and render unto Caesar that which is Caesar and unto Caesar's pizza...well you get the idea.

10.33 - time to shuffle on downstairs and get ready for another day.

Growing up sucks. The End.

http://www.bizjournals.com/kansascity/stories/2008/06/23/daily23.html