The Jock Smack

Usually I blog at night. When my mind is full of (often) useless information and observations. Right now it is three o clock in the afternoon. My mind is full of nothing. This should be fun. I have to go to work soon so This will probably be purdy short.
The last three days I have been outside every spare moment running up the hill in my back yard and then sliding down it on my snowboard. I wish I could take this motivation and apply it to other, more useful areas of my life. I could and I can, I just choose not to most of the time. I seriously have been having the time of my life out there being a Backyardigan. Ha ha, I don't know what that is.
My shoulder hurts. I hurt it playing ward ball last night. Ward ball is worth blogging about. Lets break it down: A bunch of (usually) older men who are holding dearly to every last bit of atheleticism they have and almost always exerting themselves beyond capacity. It usually made up of guys who played in high school but weren't quite good enough to play after that. This is the only source of competition they have left in their lives.
In almost all forms of basketball, and particularly ward ball and gym ball, there is butt slapping. Sports is the only time guys slap each others butts and it is completely normal and even, encouraged. I gotta be honest, getting a firm old man butt slap after making a good play is quite encouraging. It is how these guys tell me that they got my back, and my butt. It is how they say "good job Taylor". I don't get too many of those cause I'm not very good, but when I do get one, I relish in the glory. I don't hand many out either, I've always been more of a shoulder slap kind of guy.
After the game my Dad and brother pick the game a part in a play by play analysis. Who talked the most smack and who could back it up. There is usually mention of a foul that wasn't, and a certain player who got away with murder. It is fun, and it makes me feel accepted. My Dad could care less if I just learned a backside disaster to noseblunt stall in the back yard, but if I can hit a couple 3 pointers he will buy me ice cream.
I really hope that when I am fifty years old, I am not still talking about the "glory days". I hope that I am living in the glory days no matter how old I am. After all, the present moment is all that I will ever have and if I am ever focusing more attention on any moment other than the present, I will be in agony. The past brings feelings of shame and guilt, and the future brings feelings of fear and anxiety. Not always of course, because if I am living my life right, I feel good about the future and the past, but still, why not relish in the moment and feel good about what is actually real?
I will probably play ward ball when I am old, and I will probably talk smack and yell at kids to get back on D. But at the end of the day I will go home to a loving wife and family not wanting to trade what I have right then for what I had back then or what I might have in the future.

I am here, now.

I am running out of random pictures to put on me blogs. I guess this means that I need to document some more adventures. I love adventures. I think I am a Yellow, I am motivated by fun. I haven't been on an adventure in a while. The last one was probably when I went with Gentri to the Salt Lake Temple and we got a flat tire on the free way. Then, on our way home we decided to take Redwood and ended up on the wrong side of Saratoga Springs. Is there a right side of Saratoga Springs?
Its Saturday night. I am sitting home, typing a blog. That's okay though, it is what I want to be doing. I really believe that we get what we want and whatever our situation is in life is what we wanted. It's a hard pill to swallow. We get what we desire, and we desire what we think about most. If we our finding ourselves lacking initiative in carrying out our rightous desires, it is because they really aren't true desires. This is all from a book I was reading last night called, "Drawing on the Powers of Heaven". A great book indeed.
I create my own limitations because of my lack of faith. I tell myself that, "Oh, this is going to take a long time" or "Oh this is going to be so hard". And you know what, it always does take a long time and it always is hard when I tell myself that. I am not trying to preach. I cannot do that. Everyday is a battle for me and sometimes I lose. I am past the point of being able to say that every day I have sober is a victory. That is not who I am anymore, I am not going to live a great life compared to the life I chose to live previously. I am going to live a great life. Period.
Last Sunday, as I met with my Stake President, I told him about my horrific past and all the worst parts. It was not enjoyable, but I was able to do it with relative ease because I know that is not who I am anymore. When I got done he looked at me and smiled and said, "That is not the person you are anymore, I never knew that person and I will never know him." He then told me that I don't ever have to, and probably never should share that again. Heavenly Father doesn't want me to look back on that. If I am spending more energy on the past then I am in the present, than I will be in turmoil. The past isn't just a year ago, it is also a month ago, a day ago, an hour ago.
I will not be like Lott's wife. I will not look back. "Courage Bretheren! And on, on to the victory!"

Invictus

Okay, this photo is like 8 years old. But it is still relevant. Besides, I don't even know if I could still do that so I'll post it. Then you will think, "Wow if he could do that when he was 14 I bet he is so good now!" And I will let you think that. Anyways, it is also relevant to my blog because I am going to tell you about today.

I am lucky enough to have a friend whose dad is on Ski Patrol. This is important because it means he gets free vouchers to Sundance. This is good because I wouldn't pay to go to Sundance.

We stopped at Wills Pit Stop and I got a huge soda and then we headed up the canyon. The roads were super wet and slushy and I remember feeling a little sketched out about how fast my friend was driving. I should have listened to that feeling. Anyways, we round a corner and start sliding. We were going around 55 miles an hour and I knew we were going to crash. There was four of us in the car and after what seemed like a forever long slide and a slurr of profanities, we hit into the side rail. Hard. My giant fountain drink flew everywhere as the four of us bounced around the car as it spun hitting the side repeatedly.

When it was all over we were facing the wrong way and his bumper was 20 yards down the row on the other side of the road. We collected ourselves, took a couple advil and waited for highway patrol . I was extremely impressed by the optimism of the whole group. There was an "ehhh, its just a totaled car" vibe going on.

After the highway patrol came and we got done filling out all of the forms, we had a decision to make. We could call someone to rescue us and take us up the rest of the way up and in turn losing valuable shred time, or, we could throw the bumper in the car and finish the job ourselves. We were going snowboarding, that was not the issue. We were a group of men, and one lady, we decided to just keep right on going.

The car topped out at 10 miles an hour. There was obviously some seriouse damage to the engine. There was a line of 8 cars behind us when we got to the single lane part of the ride, but we didn't let there negative energy touch us.

Bottom line is we got up there to a good 6 inches of fresh snow, and we had an amazing time. Life handed us a lemon, we didn't make lemonade, but we did ride that lemon right up Provo Canyon and then left it up there to be towed away some time in the future. My fingers are tired.

Buckle Up

My brain won't listen to me. I tell it to stop thinking about girls and its responds by thinking of girls. Why do I feel this incessant need to be liked? I know that part of it stems from insecurities and wanting to be validated. All you have to do to be validated by a girl is buy True Religion jeans, it really isn't that hard. It never makes me feel better. Self esteem doesn't come from having lots of people like you. Self esteem comes from being true to yourself, it comes from making commitments and keeping them. It comes from doing something after the initial motivation is gone.

I AM leaving to go on a mission soon. I know it and satan knows it. He knows where I am weak and he knows that this is the most pivital time in my life. It is not just me at stake anymore. I am going on mission to spread the Good News that you don't have to let satan rule your life, and that you can be forgiven for all the things you did while you were letting satan rule your life. It is not just drug addicts and criminals that need to change their lives either. Everyone must experience a change of heart.

There are certain things that other people can do and be happy that I can't. I am grateful for this. I have to be extremely sensitive now. I have to thrust evil out of me life in all of its forms. Insecurities are another form of pride. If I think that I am not good enough, than I am in effect saying to the Lord that His atonement isn't good enough. It is good enough.

I am not buying that "boys will be boys". I am not buying "Your a 21 year old kid and it is normal". I don't want to be normal. I don't want to be just another boy. So why do I act like one so much of the time? It is because I am lazy, afraid and unwilling. But more than that I am faithful, fearless and diligent. That is because the Lord is on my side.

This next month and a half or so is going to be wonderful, but it is going to be hard. I can already tell. Opourtunities will present themselves and I will be tried. But you know what? The only way I can grow is by overcoming and I love growing. So, bring it on.

Tom the Mighty Duck, and other stories

I hate debt collectors. I try to love everyone, but I don't love them. To be fair, I should say that I don't love what they do. Look at me petting that duck up there. I am so sweet, even a duck loves me. He loves my bread too, but even more than that, he just wanted to be my friend. I would rather talk about ducks then debt collectors, so I think I will do that.

I like how ducks quack, but I like it when they mumble quack the most. You know, its like a low, throaty, mmmack! mack! mack! I like it when they mack. When I was feeding this duck Whitney's sammich, I could help but giggle each and every time it nibbled my hand. I almost understood what he was macking at me too, he was like "Sup homeboy, what you got on my bread?" I liked him so much, that I "goosed" him as he waddled away. That was a great joke. Ammon was afraid of the duck so, despite what you may see in the picture above, he didn't get very close. Ammon doesn't read my blog so I can say whatever I want about him.

A few years ago we had a pet duck named Tom. He flew sideways and pooped on the walls in the garage. That ol' rascal. Tom was a Duck among ducks. That dude had some swagger in his waddle, I tell you what. Not only was Tom one hunk of a duck, he was an attack duck. Seriously. Every day when the mail man would come, Tom would come mackin around the corner and start going for the heels of that poor fella. If you didn't wear shoes or socks, he would make you pay each and every time. Tom eventually joined his brother, Coot, in duck heaven. Coot was a mud duck though so I don't know if he made it.

I think that's about enough for now. I devulged enough personal information. I hope you can understand now how I hate debt collectors because that was my purpose in writing this blog. I have a dog named Boo Radley and he is a black dog but I woulda named him Boo Radley no matter what color he was. Good Day!

What a Tuwtle

Oh yeah. I'm bloggin. Just cause I don't know what I'm talking about doesn't mean I can't blog. I lack structure, I get it. I can't even write with structure, but who knows? I might accidentally say something profound! What you do is what shall be. There, now that I got that out of the way I can move on. We can all move on, here we go...
Okay I still don't know what I am writing about. But it is Sunday and I just got home from churches. I say churches because this morning I went and saw my friend Ammon be sustained as an Elder at his stake conference, then I went to my friends singles ward to watch one friend (Sierra) give a talk and another friend (Mckenna) sing. It was simply marvelous. No more CD's or Ipod's in the car when Kenna is around because she is just going to sing for all of us now. It makes me think back on a time when we were all trying to beat a song on Rock Band and Ammon was the singer, I suppose it would suffice to say that we couldn't pass the song. A recording of Ammon attempting that song has actually become a commodity of sorts within our group of friends. And to think, that whole time Mckenna was playing the guitar! Anyways, then I went to my ward where I hung out with my primary class, who coincidentally like me now because I gave them all mints that I got from Gentri's house. Thank you Terry.
Last night we all went to Pirate Island to eat and play because our dear friend Whitney is leaving to Utah State tonight. She gave 20$ to a balloon making guy. I think it was cause he was "smiley". It was so much fun though! SO.....MUCH.......FUN! Also, there was some poor lad who could not resist the intoxicating spell which was cast on him by the lady people of our little colony of sea sailing plunderers. What a horrible sentence that was! Anyways, this kid kept giving the girls tokens by the handful. They just kept coming! Gentry got addicted to some kind of button pusher game and at one point I saw her carrying a cup full of coins , with a weary look on her face, while panting that she needed another soda. Priceless. We ended up getting a ridiculous amount of tickets and now I got all sorts of swag.
I have an interview with my Bishop in like 20 minutes. I hope that I will be able to be ordained an Elder soon. I feel that despite my many weakness's and shortcomings, I am moving in the right direction and feel worthy to progress. TTFN!

A Mormon Off-Breed Sub-Genre

Okay. I first must say that I do not like being judged, and that I try not to judge others. I am not trying to fuel stereotypes here. I am just going to write a few things I have observed about a peculiar bunch of people I call, The Mormon Rebellioners. That is my disclaimer, this is my beef.

I am now a part of the work force. I don't know why I had to say it like that. Sometimes I try to sound smart, but don't be fooled. What I mean to say is that I got a job. I got me a job. Actually, I got help filling out an application and because someone (by an act of mercy) let me use them as a reference, I got a job. So I work at Brick Oven now.

I am training to be a server. I figure it will help me prepare for a mission, because on a mission you are serving food too, spiritual food. Anyways, it is cool and I am really grateful for the opportunity. There will most definately be a series of Brick Oven Blogs coming up.

As you probably know, (seriously, if you are one of the three people that read this, than you will know) Brick Oven is in the heart of Zoob town. I have discovered that there are many different Zoob cultures. All Zoobs are not created equally. I hope this term isn't offensive to anyone. I myself would love to be a Zoob and if my grades weren't so bad, I probably would be.

From my first day at Brick Oven, it was apparent that the Mormon Rebellion had infiltrated deep into the restaurant. I guess now would be a good time to identify what actually qualifies one to be a part of this Mormon sub-culture. If you can answer yes to 3 or more of the following questions, chances are, you are apart of the rebellion.

1. You say Eff, or Effin.

2. You participate in NCMO's. (Non-Commital Make Outs)

3. You get all hopped up on Bookoo's or other energy beverages.

4 You talk extra loud about your NCMO's so that the new boy at work (me) can hear you.

5. You say, "Thats what she said".

6. You listen to gangster rap.

7. Your idea of dancing is rubbing your body against someone while listening to gangster rap.

There are, of course, differing degrees of rebels. I myself have been known to participate in most of these activities since I have "come back". I am not guiltless. I used to worry that I would just become another jiggling blob formed from a Utah Valley Mormon Jell-O Mold. Ha Ha. Yes, I did just laugh at my own joke. I want to be cool too. satan (he doesn't deserve capitals) confuses me to think sometimes that being good is not cool. The world would tell you that making out with girls that you have no intention of having a relationship with is completely fine. The world would tell you that "that is what she said".

Why can't it be cool to memorize the Articles of Faith? Why can't it be cool to stand up and walk out of a movie that is inappropriate? Why can't it be cool to wear a one piece? Why can't it be cool to be good?

It can be, and it is. Let us raise up and be the salt of the earth, because if the salt looses its savor, what is it good for? If we, as Latter-day Saints, are acting just like everyone else, than we are going to taste just the same as everyone else. Okay so maybe no one is going to eat us and that was a bad analogy, but you know what I mean. I now realize that by rebelling so that I didn't have to fit into the "Peter-Priesthood" Jell-O mold, I am really just letting the world mold me into whatever it wants, and it is certainly not anything beautiful or cool. I used to think I was so cool, and then one day I woke up in Jail and thought to myself, "Hey, I bet I am one of the coolest kids in Jail!" What an accomplishment! I always wanted to be a spiritual giant in Jail!

What kind of world do we live in when we call someone's shoes, "Pimp", and it is a good thing? I say we sea what we can do to become more salty. Sea salty.

Someday Never Comes.

First of all, the title of this blog and this blog have nothing to do with each other. It is just a title of a song that I am listening to and that I like. It is by Creedence Clearwater Revival and it is old and it is awesome. My dad has a beard and he listens to it. Anyone with a beard who listens to CCR is cool in my book. Incidentally, I am still smirking from seeing "The Entrance of Darla" as I do every time I open up You Tube. My nephew watched that clip for 4 hours straight one day, I admire his resiliancy (made up word).
I have vowed not to right one serious sentence in this blog. I do not have my serious face on, I left it in the bathtub. The reason why I had it on in the bath tub in the first place is cause I couldnt figure out how to change the song on my ipod without getting the screen wet or getting a towel. It was a predicament. I ended up listening to "Holding on for a Hero" three times in a row. Don't ask me why I chose that song in the first place, I should not have admitted that.
I went out to lunch with my Mom today and she tried to convince me to bring back the infamous Bowl Cut. I thought about it. I am still thinking about it. I told her that I didn't want to a girlfriend before my mission and she remarked that the bowl cut would help. Also the state of my room and my over all life situation should help.
On a similar note, what age is it that a man is no longer able to sit like a man? My dad is one of the manliest men that I know but he sits like a woman in church. You know what I'm talking about, the weird crossed legged hand on knee thing. I was thinking that after all the shinanigans I pulled growing up he is just trying to relinquish the possibility of his ability to spread his seed. There must be a better way. Sorry if that was innapropriate, but I am going to have 20 kids before I sit like a woman in church. Despite the way he sits I would hate to see what would happen if I called him dainty. My dad puts butter on everything. He is a man.
My mom likes me because I like designer jeans. It gives us something to talk about when we go to lunch and listen to other peoples conversations. "Are those real?" is a question that is asked. About jeans. I have to go now, I am going to play catch with my dog.

Life on Life's Terms

I wish that all of my blogs could be uber positive and chipper. On second thought, I am glad they are not because that would mean I am not growing. If there is opposition in all things that means that there will be rough times a long with the good times. I guess it could be said that there are good times because of the hard times and vice versus.
Sometimes, I need to vent. I need to write and just talk to myself or talk to you and pretend that you are listening and that you care. I believe you are and I believe you do. To be completely honest I don't have a lot of people in my life that I feel I can talk to. I don't feel like there is very many people who even know who I really am. This is how it is possible for me to be in a room full of 100 people and still feel completely alone. There is one person who knows me better than anyone, He knows me better than I know myself.
Anyways, as you may have experienced, usually when it rains it pours. Today it is poring. I feel like I am soaked and cold and that I am stuck in this storm and there is nothing I can do about it so I might as well just sit down and write. Today, I am Taylor Spainwhiner as someone I know so lovingly called me recently.
I know it is impossible to give someone something that I don't have. If I don't have love for myself than I can't have love for anyone. It is hard for me to have love for myself when I feel like I am ruining the lives of the people I loved, or I guess, tried to love.
I have been so blessed in my life. More blessed than anyone I know and far more blessed than I deserve. I have seen miracles. The fact that I am alive is a miracle. The fact that I can go to the temple is a miracle. I am still here desbite myself. I did my best to destroy my life and I did a pretty good job until the Lord stepped in, and it seems I am still doing a pretty good job, atleast at destroying the lives of others. Now, when I say destroy I am aware that everyone makes their own choices. That no matter what happens to us, we have the freedom to react in a way that will help us grow or vice versus. That is the one untouchable human freedom, the right to choose ones attitude, ones response.
I had the wonderful opportunity to go to the Salt Lake Temple on Monday with a wonderful friend of mine, (which trip is definately bloggable in itself) but as I was sitting there, waiting to be confirmed, I was reading the Teachings of David O. Mckay. He said right there on the first page that Heavenly Father told us when we were Spirits that in essence we had progressed as much as possible in that state, and needed physical bodies to be able to move forward. We needed to be tested. Heavenly Father said that He would provide an Earth for us to come to prove ourselves on. He stated that we can only by overcoming. This last sentance has been on my mind.
I love how the Prophets make things so simple. You give me an orange and I will get 50 tools to try and peel it when really all I ever needed was my fingers. Anyways, it is as simple as that, if I want to grow I have to over come. I do not have to overcome alone. Somtimes overcoming means forgiving myself. It means that I don't have to carry the world on my shoulders and pretend at the same time that nothing is bothering me.
I can't continue to take responsibility for everyone else's issues. By trying to do that I end up not taking responsibility for my own. I know that I am special. I know that the Lord has a plan for me. I know that without Him I cannot survive. I know that I genuinely care about people. I love people. I love my friends. I am not very good at showing it a lot of the time. I feel completely innadequate most of the time. Right now I feel like despite my best efforts I continue to hurt those I want to help. I feel like a complete failure. Like a first class screw up. I feel this way but I know that these feelings do not come from God. It seems I might have to be willing to not have friends if it means going on a Mission. That is the most important thing in the world to me and I think if you really knew me than you would know that.
I feel like an idiot for putting my heart out there when I knew I shouldn't. I feel like an idiot because it is my fault. I do not feel a whole lot of love for myself at the moment. I don't know if anyone will read this but I will, with the help of the Lord raise about. Because of Him I am not the person I was. Despite how crappy I still might be the Lord flipped me around 180 degrees. I will forever be grateful for that and all of you who have touched my life in so many wonderful ways, even if you no longer want to be a part of it.