Near the beginning of 2007, I set a goal for my life. I thought long and hard about this goal, and prayed long and hard about it as well. I was certain that this goal upon which I had decided was one of which my God approved. He wanted me to pursue this goal, of this I was certain. I told my roommates about my goal, so I could have a greater accountability for it. My goal was to become engaged to be married by 15 January 2009. That day would be five years from the time that I returned from Scotland following my service as a missionary. I didn’t have any prospects of marriage at the time, but felt certain that because my Father in Heaven approved, I would be able to achieve it.

Around the summer of 2008, I was not noticeably closer to achieving this goal, but I was not disheartened, because I was certain that six months was plenty of time to meet a woman with whom I wanted to share eternity. However, something happened. I was presented with an opportunity. A friend told me about a program to which I could apply that, if accepted, would allow me to become an English teacher in Japan. This seemed like an opportunity which was especially made for me. However, if I focused my time on getting to Japan, it seemed highly unlikely that I would be able to achieve my marriage goal and I had pledged to God that I would work to achieve that goal. So I prayed about another course in my life. I told my Father in Heaven about the opportunity, and explained to him that I would have to set aside my previous goal, if I went after this, and sought his guidance on how I should proceed.

The answer I got was clear. While He was happy with the goal I had set, and the efforts I had made to achieve it, I should set that aside for the time being, and apply to this program. I felt as if God Himself was going to bring me to Japan. My application was strong, and I had heavenly powers on my side; I was sure I would be leaving this country for the Land of the Rising Sun, but as I’m sure you know, I did not get accepted into the program.

I won’t discuss that further, except to say that I felt cheated, and it took some very sincere (albeit perhaps angrier than necessary) prayer for me to accept what happened. As it happened, the week I would have left for Japan, a new person came into my life. I had met this woman many months prior when she came over from California to visit my roommate. During the period that I was trying to go to Japan, she had decided to move to Texas. Had I gone to Japan, our paths would barely have crossed again, and she would just have become another person among my Facebook friends, whose activity I ignore. But because I was staying, we had the opportunity to become friends. Friendship led to romance, and romance led to marriage.

I said in a previous post that I have felt the Hand of God in my life quite a bit recently. But as I have thought over these events, I realize even more so how true it is. Had I not chosen to apply to the JET program, I likely would have married someone else. I’m certain that whomever I would have married would have been a good wife to me. But God had someone in particular in store for me, and so he had me put off my goal, and he did it in such a way that I learned many valuable lessons. As with all the other life decisions that I have mentioned, I have prayed often and sincerely about my decision to marry my wife. I know not only does God approve of my decision, but it’s the exact decision He wanted me to make. I am truly blessed to have a wife whom I love with all my heart and soul, and with whom God wants me to spend eternity.

My life right now, though, is anything but simple. The trials I am facing are very real, and the uncertainty in my life is definitely frightening. But I cannot doubt that God is on my side, as he is for each of you, and I’m certain that whatever he wishes me to learn through these trials will make me a better man, and hopefully, a better husband and father.

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.

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.

My interview was in the morning at 10:40. They asked that, because of space constraints, we not arrive more than 25 minutes early. I didn’t know exactly where the Allen Center was, and I’m not that familar with downtown, so I left an hour ahead of my appointment. I figured, if I got there early, I could hang around downtown until my appointment. I had already printed out directions from Google Maps. So, I got on my best suit, and headed out about 9:30.

When I’m on my motorcycle, I tend to talk to myself, or sing. As I was going to the interview, I considered practicing the answers I intended to give, but I had already practiced those to death, and figured that would just make me more nervous. So instead, I decided to sing hymns to myself. This helped calm me a lot. Especially as I sang my favorite children’s hymn A Child’s Prayer. It also helped me from getting frustrated at the poor drivers on the road. (Seriously, do they teach in Houston Driver’s Ed that the turn signal is for initiating the car’s self-destruct sequence?) Anyway, I found the building and nearby parking really easily. As I expected, I was early. So I took the time to fix my hair (stupid helmet hair), make sure I looked dang good, and when it was 10:15, I headed up.

I had to wait a little while since I was early. They had a waiting room prepared for us. There were a couple other interviewees already there. They had a JET alumnus, who worked at the consulate, there as well to answer any questions we might have about the interview or the program. He was really helpful, and it was nice to have him there to explain exactly what was going to happen.

When it was my turn, another JET alumnus showed up to call me back. I was being interviewed by three people. The JET alum who brought me back, who was an American about my age, and two older Japanese gentlemen. One of them, who had a very thick accent and was a bit difficult to understand, looked about in his mid-40s, while the other looked to be in his mid- to late-50s.

They took turns asking questions. They would each ask a few, and then let someone else ask some more. The JET alum started, and he asked some of the basic questions I was expecting, like, why do I want to be an English teacher in Japan. For those questions I felt I was very prepared, but I ended up only saying a few of the many things I had prepared to say. I think part of the reason for that was that I had to adapt my answers to the specific way they were asking the questions, but part of it was just nerves making me forget some of the stuff I had practiced. Even so, I felt I answered most of those questions pretty well.

The oldest guy there had several questions that I wasn’t expecting at all. They knew that I’m Mormon, since I talked about serving a mission for the church in the application. I expected that they might ask some questions about my mission, but I wasn’t sure what. They didn’t ask any, but the older guy did ask a couple questions regarding religion. For example, he mentioned that, as I probably already knew (I did), Japan is not a Christian country, but is primarily Buddhist. He wanted to know how I, as a Christian, would cope with living in such an environment. I’m not entirely sure if the answer I gave was very good, but I talked about how a person’s religion doesn’t affect how I interact with them. I mentioned that I’ve had a Buddhist roommate in the past, and that never was a problem. After the interview was over, I realized I should have pointed out that while I am a Christian in a Christian nation, as a Mormon, I’m not unaccustomed to being in the minority, so that wouldn’t change that much.

He also mentioned that drinking is very common in Japan, and wondered how I would feel if I were expected to go out with my co-workers to have some drinks and go to karaoke. I think my answer was pretty good. I talked about having plenty of experience (in college) of going to partys where the primary activity was drinking, and that it was never a problem for anyone (myself or others) that while they were drinking beer, I was drinking soda, or water. I should have also mentioned that I love karaoke, so I would jump at the opportunity to go to karaoke with my co-workers. He also talked a bit about me being an ambassador of the United States, and how I felt about that.

All in all, I feel that I gave good answers, and that they were fairly satisfied with my responses. Of course, the decision isn’t up to those three. They send their impressions of me on to the foks in Tokyo, who make the final decision. Now I have to wait until April to find out if I got accepted. Keep watch here for updates when they come, and keep me in your prayers.

Edit, P.S.: I forgot to mention the most surprising part of the interview. On my application, I stated that I don’t know any Japanese. Even so, the older guy asked me to introduce myself in Japanese. Luckily, I was able to muster up a very short introduction (Hello. My name is Dan Jones. Nice to meet you). I definitely wasn’t ready for that!

1. The idea of living in one place one’s entire life (even just childhood life) is so very foreign to me, that when someone tells me that’s exactly what they’ve done, I shudder a little inside, and pity them a bit.
2. On the flip side of that, I don’t really understand the concept of home, and once in a very rare (and I mean very rare) while I envy those who do.
3. I first recognized this lack of understanding when I was in junior high Latin class and asked my teacher to explain the difference between domus and casa. I didn’t fully understand his explanation. It wasn’t until years later that I realized I wasn’t going to understand the concept in Latin if I couldn’t understand it in English.
4. Even though I don’t understand home, I understand family very well, and am so blessed to have a great family who’s always (and will always) be there for me, even when thousands of miles away.
5. I daydream a lot about having superpowers, or being a super genius.
6. The superpower I usually daydream about having is shape-shifting. I think that, as an actor, being a shape-shifter would be incredibly useful to me, as I would be able to look like any character at all.
7. I love linguistics. I’m fascinated by different languages, because I think that the way a culture communicates says more about that culture than anything else.
8. I’d love to be one of those people who can speak about a dozen or so languages. I hope to become one of those people someday.
9. I’m a little bit accident-prone.
10. When I was about 11, we had this huge pine tree in our back yard. It was about three stories tall, I think. One day I climbed up to the top of it (where it’s very thin, and swayed a lot), and waited for my mom to come out. I just wanted to hear "Daniel Ray Jones, get down from there right now." When she finally came out, she did not disappoint me.
11. I probably shouldn’t tease my mom like that.
12. She’s going to read this and be mad that that was intentional.
13. I used to love school, but somehow, my last few semesters of college sucked that right out of me.
14. Even still, I’d like to get a second degree, because I still love to learn, and recognize the benefit of a structured learning environment. I have no desire to get a master’s though.
15. Someday, I will learn bladesmithing.
16. I cry at movies, books, etc. more than I probably should. I generally try to make sure it’s not noticeable, unless I’m on a date, and know that the girl is in to sensitive guys.
17. I really like J-Pop.
18. I also like nu metal, screamo, rock, pop, alternative, and a bunch of other musical styles.
19. I really want to stop biting my nails, but have never really put any effort into doing so.
20. If I had to choose one food to eat for the rest of my life, it would be pizza. Yes, I realize that if I did that, I’d probably die in five years at 500 lbs. and unable to move, but at least I would die happy. (except, of course, for the horribly painful heart attack)
21. I’d like to die a very, very old man, in a huge, horrible accident. No boring "peacefully in his sleep" crap for me. When people hear of my death, they should cringe and say, "Oh, that’s awful!"
22. I have a lot of scars, the origin of most of which I do know.
23. My original plan was to make a list of 24 fake facts about me, and have the last one say that others weren’t true. I decided that sounded lame.
24. This post has 679 words, 46 sentences, a Gunning fog index of 9.3, a Flesch-Kincaid level of 6.2, and a Flesch Reading Ease score of 77.
25. Sometimes I think there might be something wrong with me.

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.

If, for some reason, you can’t see the image above, here are my results:

Science/Math: 92%

Technology/Computer: 97%

Sci-Fi/Comics: 98%

Dorkiness/Awkwardness: 88%

History/Literature: 26%

Anyway, I realize I’m coming in too fast, and that the door won’t be open enough for me when I reach it, so I slow down a little, and duck. Apparently, I didn’t slow down enough and/or duck low enough, because right as I pass the garage’s threshold, I slam into the garage door.

I’m not sure how I made it all the way in the garage without falling off my bike after that, but somehow I did. Now, I’m not hurt. Apparently motorcycle helmets are not only good against concrete, but also large metal doors. Anyway, it was a strange and interesting experience, but not one I would recommend to others.

P.S. My garage door no longer opens and closes, as of 3am this morning (14 December 2008). I don’t know if that’s related to my collision with it.

This morning, I was heading to work. I was on MoPac, in the far left lane. I decided to move to the center lane, so I carefully checked that it was clear, and then moved over. Shortly after I move over, I hear a loud honk rather close to me. I look to my right and see a big ‘ole SUV just behind me trying to push into my spot, or more accurately, trying to run me over. I speed up, and swerve slightly to the left to avoid being flattened by this behemoth.

So, how do I know it was his fault and not mine? Very simple. When I change lanes, after making sure the lane is clear, I move quickly into the nearest part of the lane: in this case, the left side of the lane. Then I slowly slide to the center of the lane. When the gas-guzzling maniac this morning honked at me, I was already in the center of the lane. I had been in the lane for a few seconds already. This dorkus barely had his front left wheel in the lane, although that was changing rapidly, as he barreled into my place. There was no way he started to change lanes before I did, and since I was in front of him, if he had pulled his face from the interior of his rectum for a moment, he would’ve clearly seen my bright yellow motorcycle in the very space he was attempting to enter.

Now, I’m sure it wasn’t maliciousness on his part, but rather carelessness. My vehicle, while bright, is small. Surely anyone with two eyes and half a brain cell would have seen that I was definitely in the center lane when he began to move into it, but perhaps he only has a quarter of a brain cell. In that case, I surely can’t hold him accountable.

Now, just in case that failure of a person is reading this right now, I have a suggestion for you. Before you get in your car again, I think you may want to see your doctor. It’s possible there’s a surgical procedure that can remove your head from your anus, which would definitely help when you’re on the road next time. Barring that, maybe you should become familiar with Capital Metro. They provide a great service, and would definitely help you avoid any more problems like the one we had this morning.

I have decided to go through a fast, of sorts. At the beginning of this month, I drank my last soda for the rest of the month. That’s right: no carbonated drinks for me for the whole month. Why am I doing this? Seems like a good idea. I drink too much soda, and I figure that if I go without entirely for a month, then I’ll learn better how to cut down, and choose other alternatives more often.

Along those same lines, next week I’m starting another fast along the same lines. Starting Monday morning, after I check my email, I’ll go for a full week without any electronic media of any kind. That means I won’t watch TV, watch movies, listen to the radio, and by far the hardest, no Internet.

(pause for effect)

Yes, I said no Internet. You may be wondering how I’m going to survive. I’m wondering the same thing. Of course, I’m a website designer, so at work, I will HAVE to use the Internet, but outside of work, I will not use a computer once during the next week.

Since I need email for work, I will still be checking my email while I’m at work, but I won’t respond to anything that’s not work-related, unless it’s urgent. And if I’m not at work, I won’t be checking email at all. Also, I won’t be getting on Facebook AT ALL. So, if you need to contact me next week, don’t email, IM, or facebook me. Call me up on the phone. Yeah, I know that the telephone is an electronic medium, but I have to make an exception for it. Unless people want to contact me by smoke signal. That would work too.

So, why am I doing this? I’m crazy, of course. But it’s really the same deal as with soda. Anyone who knows me knows that I spend WAY too much time on my computer. If I can go cold turkey for a week, then I should be able to better find a reasonable amount of time on the computer once the week is up. So, why don’t I just give up the computer? Why all electronic media? Well, I know myself well. If I just gave up the computer, I would just end up spending too much time watching TV and playing Wii. So, I have to give those up at the same time.

Don’t worry. It’s only for a week. After the week is over, I’ll be back on my computer, and hopefully using it much more responsibly.

If you notice missing numbers, it’s because that one was too personal to publicly share.

So, here’s my list so far.

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.

Also, you should definitely visit joestryker.com, and check out the site. I built it myself. There’s some hidden features as well. Feel free to comment on this post if you can find them.

A lot of hard work by a lot of great people went into this episode, and each of the episodes that will follow. So I really hope you enjoy them.

Anyway, I’m pretty dang excited that we finally got it up and ready. I’m taking over production of it from now on, so hopefully, I’ll be able to keep it going with at least monthly episodes.

The voting has been going on for a week now, and will be open until the end of this week. I’d like to remind all of you who haven’t yet voted that we’d really like your input, so please go and vote now. If you have already voted, you may change your vote by simply re-voting, if you’ve changed your mind. There are, in fact, new names that weren’t there when the polls originally opened. We’ve been adding some of the better suggestions that we’ve been getting.

So, everyone please help us decide on a name. This could, in fact, be more important than the naming of your first-born child.

Your Existing Situation

Readily participates in things that provide excitement or stimulation. Wants to feel exhilarated.

Your Stress Sources

Feels that life has far more to offer and that there are still important things to be achieved–that life must be experienced to the fullest. As a result, he pursues his objectives with a fierce intensity that will not let go of things. Becomes deeply involved and runs the risk of being unable to view things with sufficient objectivity, or calmly enough; is therefore in danger of becoming agitated and of exhausting his nervous energy. Cannot leave things alone and feels he can only be at peace when he has finally reached his goal.

Your Restrained Characteristics

Conditions are such that he will not let himself become intimately involved without making mental reservations.

Able to achieve satisfaction through sexual activity.

Insists that his goals are realistic and sticks obstinately to them, even though circumstances are forcing him to compromise. Very exacting in the standards he applies to his choice of a partner.

Your Desired Objective

Needs a peaceful environment. Wants release from stress, and freedom from conflicts or disagreement. Takes pains to control the situation and its problems by proceeding cautiously. Has sensitivity of feeling and a fine eye for detail.

Your Actual Problem

Needs to achieve a stable and peaceful condition, enabling him to free himself of the worry that he may be prevented from achieving all the things he wants.

Earlier today, I was at a film shoot. The shoot was in an abandoned building. There was no electricity and therefore no air conditioning, and it got quite hot. So, when I got home, I was quite tired, and decided to take a nap. I was going to nap for maybe an hour, then take a shower, and head off to the dance. So, after taking care of a couple things, I laid down on my roommate’s couch. Then was brought forth an event like no other. It was as if the couch did something to my mind, for I did not simply nap, but rather sleep was thrust upon me.

As I awoke, several hours later, I felt as if I were in another world. I looked around the darkened living room, and tried to determine where and when I was. To what distant land had I traveled? In what time had I found myself? Wasn’t I supposed to be dancing right now? For a few seconds, I wasn’t even sure of my own identity. So powerful was this sleep that my mind was still trying to remain in Dreamland, after the land had already withered away.

After about a minute or so of flitting to and fro between worlds, I was finally able to ground myself back in reality and determine exactly who, where, and when I was. But even now, half an hour later, my mind is still trying to pull me back to that Land of Nod, which I have recently departed. Such is the power of my roommate’s couch.

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.

As I was leaving Taylor on the way up here, I was riding right along a train track. There was a train, about 30 cars long, going along the tracks, probably about 55 miles/hour. As I passed it, I saw a small road that went right over the tracks.

I had the best (or worst) idea. My idea was to take a sudden, sharp right turn, and drive right over the tracks, mere inches in front of the train. It would be just like in an action movie.

Maybe it’s a good thing that I didn’t do it. I would have had to wait for the train to pass to cross back to get onto the main road. Oh, and of course there was the risk of me killing myself. That would have been bad, too, I guess. But it could have been amazing.

The job is part-time: 19 hours a week. Why 19 and not 20, I’m really not sure. I’m glad it’s part-time, because that means I’ll have time to devote to be able to do movies and plays (my real passion), and work on the new web design company my friend Abinadi and I are starting. Also, since they let me decide on my schedule, I put all my 19 hours on Tuesday through Thursday, so I always have a four-day weekend.

I found the job through my friend, Bryant Moscon. It was actually his job before, but he just got a better job, and they needed someone to replace him. He recommended me, and they jumped at it.

This job probably won’t be the most interesting thing for me to do, but at least it’s something for me to do. I’m glad it didn’t take me long to find it, and that I found it so easily. It’s really nice when things just work well.

I was just reminded of this episode when I awoke from a strange dream of my own. In this dream, I was part of some sort of competition. I think it was some sort of church activity and each of the wards were competing against each other. I believe it was an academic competition. There were several parts to it, and each ward had to select just one member to do each part. In one of the parts, we were asked to write a eulogy for a dead dog. Whoever wrote the best one would win. For some reason, I was selected to do this part. I was given biographical information, including a newspaper article that was written about him while he was still alive. There was something famous about this dog, but I don’t remember what. Part of it was his advanced age. He was 19 when he died. As I was working on this eulogy, I wanted to figure out how old he was in dog-years. There was a blackboard in the room they gave us to work, and so I wrote 19 × 7. For some reason, I couldn’t do the math. It didn’t make any sense. I screwed it up, so scratched it out, and started calculating again. I still couldn’t do it. I erased it with my hand, and wrote it again. This old man from one of the other wards was walking by the room, and saw my difficulty. He came in and tried to help. He pointed to what I was doing wrong, but he couldn’t figure it out either!

Then I woke up. This inability to do elementary school mathematics forced me out of my sleep. As soon as I was awake, I did the math in my head, and learned it was 133. Just to make sure I wasn’t crazy, I checked it with a calculator. Of course it was right, it’s a simple calculation, but I couldn’t do it in my sleep! It made me think of poor Bruce being unable to read a book. Though unlike Bruce, who couldn’t even make out the letters, I could clearly see and understand what the numbers were (I wrote them), I just couldn’t do anything with them. It was nearly the most frustrating experience of my life.