Mission Trip Meeting

Yesterday,
Was just a day like any other,
Until I went to Cafe Milo,
And met about a two-month trip.

Sorry James & James, I ripped off your song about exterminating. I promise I won't do it again during this post.

Anyway, like I said in the last post, yesterday was my first meeting about possible mission trips. It was at one in Cafe Milo. But I'll start earlier in the day.

I left the Gilman computer lab (it still feels like home to me) after making yesterday's post and checking my email. I almost got back to my apartment when I remembered that I had intended to check exactly where Cafe Milo was, so I wouldn't have to do some wandering to try and find it--having been there before, I knew about where it was, but not the address. I thought I'd just wander around the area until I found it, it shouldn't take too long. When I got back to my building, I decided to check my mail--since it was 10:30 and mail usually gets there around 9:30--and sitting on the floor near the mailboxes was a stack of brand-new phone books! I think Somebody wanted to make sure I got there on time. I got the address from there, so I'd at least know which direction I needed to wander.

I left my place at noon to catch the 12:10 bus that would be near my destination around 12:30--those that know me well know that if I'm not at least 10 minutes early, I feel like I'm late. When I hopped off the bus, I recognized the buildings off to the right immediately. Cafe Milo was in one of those. I still wandered around for a few extra minutes, because that's what I do when I'm over 25 minutes early for something.

The guy I was meeting arrived at exactly one. I somewhat envy that kind of timing, but I mostly hate it. We talked for an hour about the pros and cons of my going--my biggest pro being that I have been given an amazing gift for learning languages, and my biggest cons being afraid to leave my comfortable bubble and my parents possibly not wanting me to go--and what it would be like if I were to go.

Sleepy Monday

Apparently, I didn't get enough sleep over the weekend, because I was mostly out of it yesterday. The first big sign was nearly falling down the stairs twice on my way out of Monday Morning Prayer. The second time would have been mostly okay, because I was alone on the stairs, and would have only injured myself--which is nothing new. The first time, I would have taken at least one, probably two, and possibly three people with me. Had that happened, this post would have started out like this:

Yesterday, I was leaving MMP to go back to my apartment and do laundry. The next thing I knew, I was at the bottom of the stairs in a tangled heap with three women.

Too bad nobody will be able to read that. That would have been really funny. Oh well, I just go with what happens.

The next big sign came around noon. The maintenance guy was going around checking the seals on the windows in my building--so we wouldn't waste as much heat, which is free to us. He was only about two doors down at noon, so I decided to wait until he got to my place. I fell asleep at around 12:10. I awoke to the sound of a knock at my door, and checked the clock--13:40. I guess he took a lunch break, because it only took him 10 minutes in my apartment, and that counts him running upstairs to get a new closer for my window--the old one didn't close the window all the way. At least I got some good sleep out of it.

Now for some very important news. Today at one, I'm having my first meeting about possibly going overseas. My plan is for the summer of 2011, but I've seen my plans get shot down before, so we'll see what actually happens. My real plan would have been to stay in my safe, little bubble and give money to people braver than I am so they can go, but that doesn't seem to be in line with God's plan for me. I'll go more into the situation tomorrow--or maybe later today--when the meeting is done.

ISU-Army (and other stuff)

Yesterday was the ISU-Army game. Before I get to that, let's talk about the amazing game my Sega Saturn played against itself. Sometimes, when I'm really bored, I have my Sega Saturn play itself in a sports game. Yesterday, it was baseball--the San Diego Padres visiting the Houston Astros. At first, the game was pretty normal--the Padres tied it up at 4 in the top of the 6th--but it didn't stay that way. It was still tied at four after the 9th, so it went into extras. No score in the 10th, 11th, 12th, 13th, 14th, or 15th innings.....16th inning comes, and I noticed, "Hey, the announcer isn't saying what inning it is anymore. Guess they didn't expect a game to go this long." Still no score in the 16th, or the 17th, so the old "Let's play two" saying fit. Nobody scored in the 18th, 19th, 20th, 21st, 22nd, 23rd, or 24th innings. I started to wonder if it was going to be a "Let's play three" day. Finally, the Padres got 2 in the top of the 25th to make it 6-4. The bottom of the inning comes, and the Astros tied it back up at 6, with the final out coming because they tried to make a fly ball into very shallow center into a sac fly--the runner was out by about 10 feet. Both pitchers were exhausted, and there were no relievers left for either team, but still no score in the 26th, 27th, 28th, or 29th. The Padres failed to score in their half of the 30th, and the Astros finished them off with a one-out solo home run to make it 7-6 after 30 grueling innings. That would be a MLB record, beating the 26 inning game between Boston and Brooklyn on May 1, 1920.

Anyway, back to real life. I went to the game early, because I had volunteered to be there at 4:30--the game started at 6--to help a little with crowd control while they let the "Lil Cyclone Club" onto the field during the team's entrance. They gave us nice, pretty maps and told us that we would have to "walk" when a signal was given by the band..... There was no walking. As soon as we started moving forward, the kids--led by some of their parents--rushed the field, and I was left surrounded--I had started in a corner, lucky me. I WILL NEVER DO THAT AGAIN, unless I am given a promise that the kids--and some of the parents--will be given ketamine before they're allowed anywhere near the field....and that might still not be enough. But hey, I got to be on the field, and watch the opening kickoff from just outside the endzone.

The Cyclones won the game 31-10, thus matching Chizik's highest number of wins in his two seasons at ISU--why Auburn ever wanted him, I don't know--with 8 games left in the season. After the game, of course, comes STADIUM CLEANUP!!!!! They needed more blowers, and even though I had heard horror stories about it, I volunteered for it--better that than always bending over and actually having to touch the trash. I had been told that your back will ache after you're about half done, but my back was fine after we finished--maybe I'm not the best judge of that, though, for the first 3 years of high school, I carried all of my books in my backpack to every class. My legs were tired, but when you walk the length of the stadium about a dozen times, that'll happen.

On the way to the glorious reward of free pizza, some of us were talking. For some reason, I got us onto the topic of the earplugs--I'm random like that--and the girl in that small group said if she brought hers home, her son would want to play with them. I looked at her. "You have a son?" "I have three sons." I looked at her again. "You don't look old enough. I don't believe you." She said she was 18. My randomness popped up again, and I slipped into a Southern accent to say, "Well, I'm 23, and I ain't got no kids. But then, I ain't even done whatcha gotta do to get kids." She gaped at that. "You're a VIRGIN?!" I just nodded my head. "Sorry, I've never met a 23-year-old virgin before." "Well, now you have." Apparently, I'm a rare breed. Whatever.

High places and update on weight loss

Last night, I went up into the campanile twice. Both times, I only made it up behind the clocks, because I didn't want to climb the rickety ladder up to the room with the bells--and there was no way I was getting through that small opening anyway. The first time, I was the first one down, and I ended up having to wait while the other two people took pictures out of the small windows--I should have brought my camera.....and film. The second time, I was second-to-last on the way down. The stairs are so small and steep, I could have kneed the person in front of me in the head, or kicked her in the kidneys. Of course, I would never do that, because I'm a nice-ish guy--and her fiance would have tried to damage my insides.

In other news, my weight loss is up to 30 pounds!! In just over 6 weeks! Just 10 more, and I'm back down to what I was as a junior in high school. I'm now down to the weight I was when I left ISU after my first year at college--260 pounds. I lost 45 pounds that year--mostly due to going from not moving at all to walking at least a mile a day, and nearly starving the first few weeks because I didn't know where to go to get food. It always used to just appear in the house. How was I supposed to know you actually had to go buy it--or that CyRide was free? Anyway, I'm also back down to being able to fit into XL shirts, but I still like my XXL shirts--they're so roomy, I could nearly fit another person in some of them.

Why is it so hard to simply walk home?

On Saturday, after getting back from the funeral and the post-funeral family "fun", I went to a dessert party. First, I had a little trouble finding the place, because I didn't pay attention to the address--I thought it was in Freddy, but it was in University Village. Soon after I arrived, all the other males left--I guess I just send out some kind of signal or something--and I was left with a decision: would it be more awkward to stay and be the only guy, or leave simply because I was the only guy. Having just gotten there, I thought it would be more awkward to leave, so I stayed.

At the end of the party, there were just 4 people there, counting myself. Suddenly, worries about me walking back home surfaced. After 2 offers for a ride home, an offer to stay and wait for the next bus, and an offer to call the drunk bus for me--which included the question "Can you act drunk?"--they finally resigned themselves to the fact that I was going to walk home. As I was leaving, the oldest of the three asked if I had a phone. I held up my cell as proof, and she told me to call if I ran into any trouble. I think I rolled my eyes at this, but I was facing away from her, and I replied simply with "I will."

On my way home, not much happened. I saw a streaker (who got his clothes stolen by his buddy as he was running across Stange and back) and a group of people trying to climb the statue that's just south of MacKay, but nothing dangerous. When I got home, I was tempted to text all three of the ladies so that they would know I was safe. It probably would have gone something like this:

You can stop worrying now, I made it home with all my body parts still attached and all of my belongings still on my person.


I know they were just being good friends while worrying about me, but it bothers me a little that people worry about me so much. I nearly gave in to the offer of a ride--there was no way I was getting on the Moonshine Express--just to abate their worries. If they had kept going for a couple more minutes, I think I would have.

There are a couple things that I found funny about them trying to act like my mother.
1. The oldest of the three of them is still nearly three years younger than I am--one of my teeth is older than she is. Seriously, I still have one of my baby teeth.
2. My mother would have given up a lot sooner than they did. She knows me too well.

Not a good week

On Sunday (which I recently saw was "Grandparent's Day" on my calendar--ouch) I got a call from my mom. She told me that my grandfather--my dad's dad, my mom's parents have both left the world of the living already--was in the process of dying--he's been in the hospital's long-term care ward for the last two and a half years, battling cancer. I misheard, and proceeded to tell a few friends he had died. Oops. By the time I realized I had misheard, we were in Grundy Center--a dead zone for my phone, so I couldn't retract the statement. We stayed the night in the grandparents' house--both are in the hospital, so it's been a kind of flophouse for people visiting them--and went back Monday morning. Nothing had changed, and my dad had a Tuesday morning doctor's appointment, so I hitched a ride back to Ames with him so I could do laundry (Monday is my normal laundry day).

On Tuesday at around noon, my dad picked me up and we went back up there. His breathing had improved since we left--up to 20 per minute and calm, instead of 12 per minute and ragged (yes I timed him, I got a little bored). Still, he wasn't responding to anything, or even opening his eyes. We went back to the grandparents' for the night, and I slept on the couch again, first falling asleep while trying to watch the White Sox play in Seattle--stupid 9:10 start time--but I woke up for the last two batters. Anyway, early this morning, I awoke to running feet and a phone ringing. I knew what it was, so I stayed still while my dad answered the phone. After he hung up, I heard him say to my mom that his dad had died about 15 minutes before. I grabbed my cell phone and checked the time--6:15.

The rest of today was spent finalizing funeral plans, and getting things ordered. Everyone is taking off for home tonight, with some of us already home--my mom and myself for sure, others will arrive at their respective homes later. Tonight is going to be the first time since Saturday night that I will sleep in a bed--I was too tired to clear things out of the way for my bed on Monday night. We'll get back together on Friday for the viewing, and the funeral is Saturday morning, with yours truly as one of the pallbearers. I might even be next to a former Cy--we'll have to wait and see where they put us.

What's happening to me?

Last night, I went to Salt, and I noticed a couple things. First, there were a lot more people there than last year--or so it seemed, I usually sat near the front--and yet, the speaker was saying that God wants more--and He should expect more. Just look at tomorrow--55,000 people there to watch a game that won't be mentioned much after next year's Iowa-Iowa State game, compared to seven or eight hundred people in a small gym for the everlasting God.

The second was that on the way home, I was exhausted. I looked at the clock on the dash, and it read 10:15. Sad. My freshman year of college, I could stay up until 6am playing video games, get an hour's sleep, and be fine for the rest of the day. Now I need an afternoon nap just to stay up until 11pm without feeling dead. I'm getting old. At this rate, I'll be going to bed at 9 when by the time I'm 30. Either that, or the awesomeness that is Salt makes everything else seem boring by comparison. I can't decide which it is.

How different would my life be?

Last night, in connection group, we shared our testimonials/God stories/whatever you want to call them. After getting home (there was some craziness involved in this, but I'll leave that for later in the post), I was lying awake in bed thinking about how things could have been different. Last year, when I joined a connection group by walking in just before it started--and being too lazy to leave--my plan had been to stop in for a minute or two, then go back to my room and watch House. That brought up a lot of questions on what would have been if I had followed that plan. Would I be a Christian now? (maybe, but I doubt it) Would I be in Ames today? (I don't think so) Would I be eating healthy? (not if I'm not in Ames) The list goes on and on. It's amazing how one little moment can change so much, just one year later.

Anyway, back to getting home after connection group last night. The guy that was driving me home forgot his wallet in the apartment, so he had to run back in and get it. He left his lights on while doing so, first running through some random guy's apartment instead of the connection group leader's. When he finally returned with his wallet, the car wouldn't start. We pushed the car off to the side, and started a mad search for jumper cables (with the connection group leader driving us around). When we finally got back, the car still wouldn't start, even with a jump. We pushed the car into a parking spot, and the guy that was going to drive me home opted to spend the night there. I got a ride home from the leader, and went to bed. I hope the guy's car isn't too expensive to fix.

Football!!! (and a few other things)

Yesterday, I finally went to a Cyclone football game. It was the first football game I have ever been to--at least, other than arena football. I had a good time tailgating with Salt, then standing on the hillside, surrounded by friends--and then fans of the visiting team were on the bleachers beside the hill. I helped out cleaning the stadium after the 34-17 Cyclone victory, and I was amazed at how much people buy and then don't finish--pop, beer, popcorn, peanuts, pizza, etc. How can you spend the outrageous prices for concession stand food, and then just leave half of it sitting in the stands?

Anyway, after getting back home I decided to step on the scale, out of curiosity. It read 268--after saying 270 about an hour before I left for tailgating. I lost 2 pounds by going to the game. I wonder how many people can claim that--other than maybe the marching band or the players themselves. That brings the total weight loss to 22 pounds--still a long way to go, but I'm getting there.

I also managed to burst the blister I got from trying to run up all the stairs in Larch during the connection group photo scavenger hunt Tuesday night. I only made it to 6 before fatigue and (more importantly) the belief that there was more than 8 floors made me give up and take the elevator. On a side note from that night, if you're ever going to be the top person in a human pyramid, please avoid jumping up there at all costs. It really hurts those of us on the bottom with two knees in the middle of our backs. Thank you.