After work today, I picked up my fiancée and we went back to my apartment. Over the last weekend, we had gone down to California, among other things, to pick up the remainder of her belongings from her parents, and bring them back to Texas. We got back Tuesday, but have not finished unloading all of her stuff from the U-Haul. You see, she has a lot of stuff. Some of it will go to her current apartment. A lot of it will stay in my apartment. Anything left over will be put in a storage unit. So, the U-Haul has been mostly sitting at my apartment complex since then, and she has been going through it to figure out what can go where. Since nothing is really organized in the truck, this process can take a while. Hopefully we’ll be done by Saturday, because that’s when we have to return the truck.

So, the result of all of this is that basically we have been moving her stuff into my apartment for most of the evening, and organizing it somewhat. Or in other words, we have been turning my apartment more into our apartment. It’s actually a pretty good feeling.

In between all the packing and stuff, we also played some board games, ate dinner while watching some TV, and so forth. When it came time to go, we got on my motorcycle, Jill, and headed back to her place. Right as I pulled onto the highway, I had a wonderful experience. One might call it an epiphany, but I will call it an inspired message.

Let me describe the situation. It was a cool night, about 70 degrees, but going down the road at 70 mph with my jacket partially open, the wind chill brought it down to about the upper 40s or lower 50s. It felt great. I was sitting atop my speedy little motorcycle, Jill. I wasn’t flying down the highway, giving her a real workout, but the feel of her warmth between my legs, the rumble of the pavement beneath, the movement as we swerve around the traffic is a wonderful feeling. And to top it all off, sitting behind me, is an amazing, beautiful, fantastic woman, whom I love with everything I have, and who will soon be my wife. My fiancée, Kali, is sitting there, and I can feel her legs against my thighs, and her hands resting lightly on my waist. I’m reminded of all that we’ve shared, and all that she means to me.

As this is happening, a feeling comes over me. But it wasn’t just a feeling, it was a message from my God. He said to me, “Daniel,” (He always calls me “Daniel,” never “Dan”) “I have put you here to have joy. The people I have placed in your life, and the experiences I have given you are for that purpose. Cherish them.”

I truly have a blessed life. My family (present and future), my friends, my good times, and my bad times make me a better person, and bring me more joy. I don’t know if I’ll ever understand why the Lord blesses me so, but I know that he does, and for that, I am truly grateful.

As I mentioned earlier today, I interviewed for the JET Program yesterday. One of the questions, as I said, was about how I, as a Christian, would cope with living in a Buddhist country. I gave some answer about how I get along just fine with people of every religion, and that I would be fine worshiping, if I had to, on my own.

Today in Institute class, we were reading in Moses 6, which says, in verse 17: "And Enos and the residue of the people of God came out from the land, which was called Shulon, and dwelt in a land of promise." We talked for a bit about "lands of promise." We discussed the various times in history when the children of God have been asked to leave a place, and go to a land of promise, a place of safety and refuge where they would be protected from the world: Enos and his children going to Cainan, Moses and the children of Israel venturing into Canaan, Brigham Young and the early Mormons crossing the frontier to Utah. We then talked about how today, we build our own lands of promise wherever we live. A thought came to me. In certain times of history, the Lord has required the children of God to leave a part of the world physically, and separate themselves so that, as a people, they can grow, and progress spiritually. We aren’t asked to do that in our time. We are asked to do something much harder. We’re required of the Lord to remain in the world physically, and separate ourselves spiritually so that we can grow and progress as individuals and families.

As I thought about this, my thoughts went back to my interview the day before when I was asked how I would deal with living in a Buddhist nation. I realized then that if I go to Japan, I will be physically separated more from the "lands of promise" which I have developed more than I ever have been in my life. Right now, I have my family a few hours away, and countless friends in the Church to support me when I need it. When I was in Scotland, I was in a land where there weren’t many members of the church, but I was constantly surrounded by other missionaries, and my mission president. I was in Germany for some time, away from my spiritual support, but it was only for a short time, and the ward in that town was still fairly large.

I may end up in a small village where I’m the only member of the Church, and I may be in a branch that meets several few hours away, and only has twenty members. I may not have the support structure that I have here. I may be venturing into Babylon, and if I, like one whose name I share, get thrown into the lion’s den, I need to be ready to close their mouths. I was looking at this as an opportunity to learn more about another culture and language, and to expand my skills, but this could, likely be a challenging spiritual journey for me as well. I’m going to need to shore up my spiritual reserves.

So, today is my first day back at work after the holidays. My whole department got two weeks off for Christmas and New Year’s and I spent most of it lying in my bed thinking I was going to die.

First, I went up to Carthage, TX to spend Christmas with my family. I had had a cough since about October, and it was almost gone when I left Austin. When I got to Carthage, I discovered that my cough decided to pick back up. So, I spent Christmas and a few days after coughing. Not a big deal, but unpleasant.

On the 29^th, I headed back down to Austin. It was a great ride. Long, mostly empty, curvy country roads to go nice and fast. Very fun! I noticed something very strange when I got home and started to settle in, though. I was sore all over my body. I couldn’t figure out why that would be. I figured it out later, though. The flu was setting in, and was making me physically weak: as weak as a baby kitten. You see, the soreness was caused by strong winds (when you’re riding a motorcycle at 70 mph, all you’ve got are strong winds) pressing against my body. But at the time I couldn’t figure out what it was and by the next day, with the soreness gone, I forgot.

That day, though, I was starting to feel a bit of malaise. Nothing very specific, just a general feeling of unease. The day after (New Year’s Eve) was much the same. That night, there was a church dance. I was excited for this, although with a greater feeling of unwellness setting in, my excitement was waning. The dance was pretty fun, but I was having trouble keeping up with everything. When I would dance to the fast songs, I would get a headache. Finally, I just decided to sit them out altogether and be a wallflower. I had a reasonably good time talking with my friends, and occasionally dancing to the slow songs. At one point, one of my friends came up to me and asked me if I would give her a blessing, as she was feeling sick. I didn’t mind, and we went into a room off to the side, along with our bishop, so he and I could give her a blessing. She knew I was feeling unwell, and after the blessing, she said to our bishop, "You know, Dan’s been feeling sick, too." "Well, I can give you a blessing, too," he says. "No, I’ll be fine. If I’m worse in the morning, I’ll get one from my roommates," I stubbornly respond.

Well, the evening proceded, we watched the ball drop at midnight, and then they served breakfast right after. By that time, I was feeling very unwell, so as soon as I ate my breakfast, I went home without any socializing. The next morning, I could barely get out of bed. Soreness all over my body yet again (riding home), a cough that no cough drop at my disposal could stop, a pounding headache, and a general feeling that nothing was right in the world. I stumble out of my room to see my roommate Russ lying on the coutch. "Russ, I’m gonna need you to give me a blessing," I’m barely able to vocalize. Russ was the only one home who could give the blessing, and we wanted another to assist, so we called up some friends who lived down the street. One of them was on his way home, so he stopped by, and they gave me a great blessing that left me feeling like maybe I wouldn’t actually die right at the moment.

My other roommate, Rodd, went out and got me some better drugs than we had in the house, including some cough drops that actually include an anesthetic, which is much more effective than traditional cough drops. At least with this medicine, I wasn’t in complete pain and misery. Despite the drugs, though, I would still occasionally erupt into a coughing fit. If I tried to eat anything, the coughing would usually accompany throwing up. Sometimes, when I hadn’t even eaten anything, I would throw up. I’m not sure what was coming up (I assume stomach acid), but it was disgusting. The fever that had set in meant I was constantly sweating. My entire head was constantly soaked. All that salt on my scalp made it so that I could actually feel where my hair follicles came out my scalp. I fealt like I was some sort of male Gorgon.

That night brought the hallucinations. I’m still not sure what I was hallucinating, but a feeling of uncertainty ran through the entire episode. As I was trying to get to sleep that night, I started to see things. I’m not sure what these things were. I didn’t know where I was, when I was, who I was, or even what I was. I was floating through a sea of ambiguity, with random sounds, images, colors, tastes, and smells. Nothing was familar, but since I didn’t even know if I was human, that wasn’t too surprising. At one point, back in the real world, my hand slipped down my face, forcing me back for a moment. I tried to ground myself and figure out was going on, when I fell back into the trance. This went on for some time longer, until I tried to force myself back. I succeeded, but again, only for a moment. After a while, I tried again, and this time, when I came back, I sat up in my bed, to help ground me in reality. I looked around for a moment, still confused. I was still not sure who, or what I was. Suddenly it came flooding back, and I said it all out loud. "Your name is Daniel Jones. You live in Austin, TX. You’re an actor, and a website designer. You work for the University of Texas …" This went on until I was absolutely sure I knew who I was, and I wasn’t about to slip back into whatever-the-crap-that-was. I got a drink of water, then went to the bathroom. I had another coughing fit, and threw up in the toilet some more. I wondered if this thing was going to kill me, but was sure it wasn’t, because I was promised in a blessing that I would get better. I HAD to believe that. I went back to bed, and this time, fell asleep properly.

The next day brought much the same as the day before. My roommates did their best to take care of me. I just laid on the couch, coughed, slept, and sweated. I would try to eat, and would usually fail. One thing I had noticed the day before was that if I laid flat on my back, I coughed less. I also noticed that if I laid on my back for a while, I would get a pain near the top-right corner of my back. I tried this day to work it out with the massage chair. It helped a bit, but it would just come back when I laid down for a while. I tried lying on my side, but that wasn’t as comfortable, and I discovered that if I did that, I would get a pain in my side. It was from this that I realized that I had become incredibly weak. My body was no longer strong enough to support its own weight. I would just have to deal with the pain, and hope it would end soon, and take Extra-Strength Tylenol™.

The next day brought a little bit of hope. I hadn’t hallucinated the night before. I was no longer getting pains from lying down. On the down-side, I had now watched EVERYTHING on our DVR, so I had to watch live TV. Of course, I had stuff downloaded that I could watch, but that meant I’d have to switch the TV from the DVR, to the computer, and controlling your shows with a keyboard, rather than a remote, is quite a hassle, and I was really not feeling up to it.

The next day was Sunday. I wasn’t well enough yet to go to church, but I had improved a huge amount over the night. I felt like this was actually nearing its end. I was actually going to survive! I probably could’ve actually managed to make it through the three hours of church, but I felt like my coughing would’ve been so distracting to everyone, that I was better staying home.

Apparently, that day, the couple of people who hadn’t already heard I was ill were informed at church. I got so many facebook messages, txts, IM messages and so forth from people enquiring after my health. It was nice to know that so many people were concerned for me.

By the next day, I was actually well enough that I could eat food! That was good, because I had checked my weight on Wii Fit. It said I had lost over 8 pounds while I was sick. Wii Fit told me I was losing weight too fast, and needed to focus more on maintaining my health. That’s a pretty smart game. I was also feeling well enough that day that I could actually leave the house all on my own. I only went to the gas station and the grocery store (to buy more cough drops), but that was a major improvement. That night was our monthly AARP-FHE. It was on the north-ish side of town. I didn’t go there on my own, but I did go. There was a potluck dinner, and I ate a little. Then I managed through all of the lesson, and socializing afterwards. I was definitely feeling good about my improvement.

And that brings us to today. Last night I actually got a full night’s sleep. Today, I brought myself to work, and my coughing is just barely there. By tomorrow, I may not need the cough drops anymore.

And so, that is my adventure with my Christmas flu. I learned two very important things from this. First, I learned that I have an awful lot of friends who really care about me, and are there to take care of me whenever I need it. I guess they know that I would do the same for any of them. Second, I learned that if someone is offering free flu shots (to all UT faculty, staff, and students), I should take it.

A friend of mine recently told me about The JET Programme. This is a program run by the Japanese government to get English speakers to come to Japan. I’ve been feeling lately like I need to go somewhere (well, to be honest, I always feel like I need to go somewhere), and I’ve wanted to go to Japan for a while. Also, one of my goals in life is to able to converse in at least one language native to every continent. I’ve already got Europe covered with English and German. I chose Japanese for Asia, mainly because I watch a lot of anime.

Well, this program seems like something I would really enjoy. I think I would really like living in Japan, and I think it would be great to be able to teach children English. Living in Japan would give me great experience with the Japanese language, so hopefully after living there for a year, I should at least be able to hold a conversation.

So, the program is basically a year-long contract. I apply at the Japanese embassy, and if I’m accepted, they arrange for me to get a contract with a school somewhere in Japan. The contract lasts for one year, and at the end of that year, if I and the school would like, I can renew my contract for another year. I can do that four times, for a total of five years. The application for next year should be available this Thursday, and if I’m accepted, I would leave for Japan late next July or early August.

Of course, the hardest part would be being away from my friends and family, whom I love. I wouldn’t lose contact, of course. Between email, IM, telephone, and Facebook, it’d be like I’m practically still here in Austin, except that I wouldn’t be.

The other difficulty would be Joe Stryker. Now that we’ve finally got it off the ground, I’d hate to put it on hold for an indeterminate amount of time. I’ve already decided that if I do go, I’ll take a webcam with me, and will still do StrykerMail clips. Plus, maybe we’ll know an animator or two by then and can switch the format to an animated show. That would be fun. In any case, we’d try to film as many episodes before I leave as we can.

But as for me wanting to do this, there is no question. It may seem impulsive. I heard about this program on Saturday, and now I’ve already decided I want to uproot my life, and go to Japan. But I feel like it’s something that would be really good for me, and maybe I would be able to help others, in the process.

I’d certainly like to hear what you guys think about it.

So, I recently helped a friend move, and I’ve had a lot of experience over the past several years both helping people move, and being helped move, so I thought I’d write a couple tips about best practices for the person being moved.

First off, if the friend I helped move is reading this, don’t take it as an indictment against you at all. Even though you didn’t follow all the suggestions set forth here, it certainly wasn’t unpleasant. It was actually a fairly easy move. Now, let’s get on to it.

Firstly, the single most important thing is to be absolutely completely ready for them. Let me clarify what that means. When your friends arrive, make sure every single thing is packed up and ready to go. And make sure it’s all packed up well. Go get some boxes. Don’t throw your random knick-knacks into a laundry hamper; put them in a box or suitcase. Hanging clothes should be put into a garment box or hanging garment bag. Don’t expect them to do any packing at all. They’re there to help you carry stuff; that’s all. And if possible, gather all your stuff in an easy-to-get-to location.

Secondly, for goodness sakes, feed them. You’re not paying them, so you could at least give them some food. Food afterwards is good, but food beforehand is better. But not all food is ideal. Don’t feed them something heavy or greasy beforehand. That’ll make them groggy and make it harder for them (which will, consequently make it take longer). Before the move, something light that provides quick but lasting energy is good. Pastries and doughnuts is a great idea, because they provide both simple and complex carbohydrates. The simple will give immediate energy, while the complex will break down later and help them keep working. If you have a lot of stuff and the move will take a while, consider providing food both before and after. The food after can be something heavier (like pizza). And especially if you live in a hot climate, make sure there’s plenty of water easily available the whole time, in both locations.

Third, make sure you survey the areas through which things will be moved and try to identify problem spots beforehand, and try to work out what will probably be the easiest way around them. It makes things a lot easier if they know they’re going to carry a piano up three narrow flights of stairs (please don’t ever ask anyone to do that).

Finally, don’t give them a hard time at all. If they need to take a five-minute break, just let them, and don’t even jokingly criticize them for doing so. You are not paying them, so don’t expect them to work like they are. Don’t expect them to be professional movers, because they aren’t. If they nick the edge of your furniture, just ignore it. If you can’t afford any damage to come to your stuff, hire movers.

So, I got this idea from a Facebook note a friend of mine wrote. Here’s how it works:

1. Put your MP3 player or ipod on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS.
4. If you want, you may write the movie/album/artist

I’m not quite sure what to think of all of them, but whatever. There they are.

I recently had a part in a short film written and directed by my good friend, Arthur Kendrick. The film is titled “The Plumber and the Princess.” If you’ve ever played Mario Brothers, you already know the basic plotline of the film. This is not, however, simply a short version of the game. This is the Italian plumbers as you’ve never seen them before: gritty 1950s detectives. That’s right, this is a film noir version of Mario Brothers.

I play Bowser’s goon, Koopa. I hope you all enjoy it. Please rate it on YouTube, and tell all your friends.

Yesterday was my birthday, and boy, was it a great one. Around 6am, there was some noise right outside my room. It was just enough to not actually wake me up, but enough that I was able to hear what’s happening, and the sounds in the real world would meld with the sounds in my dream. So, as I’m on a boat floating down the Danube, I hear a whispering, disembodied voice say, “Alright, you ready? Now!” Then my door crashed open loudly enough to actually wake me up, as four or five of my friends start singing “Happy Birthday” to me. As my eyes flutter open, I see my good friends standing there, and as the song concludes, one of them says, “We’re here to take you to IHOP for breakfast.” I slowly roll out of the hammock in which I sleep as the words, “Ohhhhh, Mannnn” escape from my mouth. I walk over towards them, and in retrospect, I wonder if they were wondering if I was about to deck them. I didn’t, of course, because I love them, but instead put on my sandals, looked up and gave a groggy, affirmative nod. “Alright, let’s go” came from one of the crowd. And so, in my pajamas, we headed off to IHOP.

We went to IHOP where more friends were waiting. I was amazed at how many people came out at 6 in the morning to wish me a happy birthday. It was a great time, aside from our very grumpy waitress. Now to be fair, it looked as if she was one of only two waiters working at the time, and it seemed pretty busy. It may have been the end of the nightshift and she was tired. Nevertheless, a waiter should be able to put that aside. When she (finally) took our orders, one of my friends patted me on the shoulder and said, “it’s his birthday.” To that, she answered, with disdain dripping from every word, “I am not singing Happy Birthday.” A little later, when another friend said we’d like to pay with separate checks (which really is not that much of a hassle; I know) she said, with as much incredulity as she could muster, “Are you serious?” You’d think a waitress at IHOP in a college town would be used to large parties paying separately. Anyway, her disposition later improved, but I expect she overheard us complaining about her, and didn’t want to get a 2¢ tip.

Despite the poor service, we had a great time. After we got back, one roommate discovered that we hadn’t gotten the mail in yesterday, and a card for me was waiting there. It was from my little sister, was very funny, and included a very nice gift certificate. When I got on my computer, I discovered more gift certificates in my email inbox from other family members. I decided to spend the one from my parents for Amazon.com at once, and buy a couple video games and a few DVDs.

The day progressed as usual. Friday Forum at the Institute was great. Another friend reminded of a plan we had discussed to have a birthday video game party for me playing Super Smash Bros: Brawl. We arranged to do it at my house, since my roommate has a 64-in TV. So, after I got back from class, I sent out invitations to the party. We also decided to watch the first Batman movie, starring Adam West, since one friend had just gotten it on DVD. Because I sent out invites only a few hours before the party was to start, I didn’t expect to great a turnout, but probably over a dozen people showed up. Some of them came because it had been previously arranged to watch UT’s basketball game against Stanford at our house just prior to the party, and getting to play video games after was just icing on the cake (figuratively speaking, of course; we didn’t actually have a cake). I got one great present from Miss Stephanie Hall, and a couple others from other people, one of which I’m now eating.

All in all, it was a really great day. I didn’t even really announce my birthday beforehand, but my friends still made sure I had a great one. And I’m sure lucky to have such great friends and family.

So, the other night I had a pretty weird dream, and I’ve been thinking of it since. In the dream I was working on some kind of project with five girls. I don’t really remember what it was we were doing, and it’s not particularly important anyway. These five girls are all friends of mine in real life. I know them all pretty well (some better than others). These girls are all vastly different from one another. Really, the only noticeable similarity among them is that I know all of them from church, so they’re all Mormon. But in just about every other way, they’re all very different. Their ages vary from about 23 to 31. There’s two blondes and three brunettes. Some are students, some professionals, with everything in between. Three have never been married, one is divorced, one is currently married. Most of the girls know each other, but aren’t good friends, and never hang out with each other (aside from seeing each other at church, and sometimes at parties). Basically there is no common thread running between them.

So, the setup is already unusual. Now, near the end of the dream, one of these girls had to leave. So, we said goodbye, and I gave her a kiss. Now, it wasn’t a passionate I-love-you-more-than-life-itself kind of kiss, but it was definitely a goodbye kiss that you would expect of a couple. There was some passion in it. A little while later, and I had to leave. As I left, I kissed each of those girls with the same sort of kiss. I kissed the married girl last, and said, “Don’t tell her husband.” Everyone laughed at the comment, then I turned around to leave, and woke up (of my own accord: no alarm), ending the dream.

Now, I’ve never kissed any of these girls in real life. I’ve only gone on a date with one of them, and that was just a friendly date. So, this dream seemed rather unusual, and I was thinking about it later that day when I was hanging out with some friends, including one of the girls: Kristen. I told them about the dream, and my friend Mark suggested that perhaps there’s some aspect of each of those girls in my “dream girl.” So, I said to Kristen, “You’re one-fifth of my dream girl.”

I do wonder, though, if Mark was right. I’m thinking perhaps he was. I suppose that it would mean that in my mind, there’s a particular defining aspect of each of these girls that attracts me. If I could just figure out consciously what I know subconsciously, maybe I’d be closer to finding my dream girl. Maybe it’s even one of them. Although hopefully not the married one, as I’m sure her husband wouldn’t appreciate it.

Thursday afternoon, I was in a class at the Institute. The class was “The Gospel and the Productive Life,” taught by Bishop Simmons. The lesson was mainly about The Word of Wisdom, but one of the quotes that was read mentioned the benefits of wholeseome recreation as well. Bishop Simmons told us that the root of the word recreation is re-create, and that if recreation doesn’t help us re-create ourself, it’s not really recreation. I liked that a lot. Generally when someone explains something to me using etymology, it helps me understand a lot better. This was a concept that had never really occurred to me.

Fast forward to last night. The Institute hosted a “formal” dance: sort of like a mini-prom. I don’t really like dressing up, but I wanted to go to the dance. They were also providing dinner, and who’s gonna pass up free food? Not me, that’s for sure.

So, I went to the dance. I had a beautiful date, who’s also great company. The food was pretty good. The music was mostly good. And I danced up a storm. At one point, some fast dance song (maybe it was techno) started playing, and I was dancing pretty fast, and couldn’t really tell much of what was going on around me because I was moving too fast. I heard something like, “Go, Dan, go,” and I became aware that a circle was forming around me. So I kicked it up a notch, and when I slowed down to move to the edge of the circle to let someone else have a chance, I realized the circle was WAY bigger than I thought.

By the time I got home, I was sore from my hips down to my toes. I was also tired. I also felt really good. Throughout most of this semester, I’ve been a bit depressed for various reasons, but after that dance, I felt really good. Not just that I had had a good time, but my outlook seemed a little clearer, and some of my problems not so serious. I thought maybe it was just endorphins. I had expended a lot of energy, and I’m sure I was producing a lot of endorphins, which make you feel good. It was probably just a chemical thing.

This morning, however, I still feel really good. Somehow, going out and partying with good friends just changed my perspective. Which brings me back to the Institute class. This is what Bishop Simmons was teaching us. Thursday afternoon I understood the principle, but Friday night, I truly learned it. We all need some time from the daily grind to re-create ourselves. I guess I hadn’t really had that in a while, but last night I got it in a big way. I’m so glad I went to that dance, and so glad I learned that principle.