Here’s the backstory: my big idea for Ryan’s Christmas present this year came out a little camping trip to Harry Potter’s Pond. Ryan got a fishing license and borrowed one of my dad’s fishing poles. He was so excited to get to the lake. However, within 15 minutes of getting to the lake, Ryan had already had to cut and restring the line 5 times. My dad has a good fishing pole and a bad fishing pole—clearly we had chosen poorly. Ryan was so disappointed. Luckily, Brady lent Ryan a pole, which resulted in pure happiness.

Clearly, something that could make him this happy was a surefire Christmas gift. So the day before Thanksgiving, I was able to get off work at 3:00, and since Ryan wasn’t due home for another three hours, it was the ideal shopping time. So I headed to Sports Authority, where I wasn’t too impressed, then headed over to Sportsman’s Warehouse. I don’t think I’d ever been there before, but all the people I talked to recommended it, and I counted several mullets upon entering, so I was pretty sure that place was for real. I walked to the fishing section, got help right away, and I was able to get everything under budget.

Here’s where the story starts to be remarkable. When time came to pay…no purse. While it’s never fun to lose a purse, I’ve misplaced things often enough that I didn’t really freak out. I looked all over the store, my car, and the parking lot…nothing. So I took my purchase up to the customer service desk, explained the situation, and gave them my phone number in case anything turned up while I went back to search Sports Authority and my house.

About five minutes after leaving the store, I get a phone call from the store manager—someone had overheard me in line and had paid for my entire purchase, just so I would have one less thing to worry about while I was searching for my wallet. They didn’t leave a name, and I certainly wasn’t aware of who they were. But I cried all the way home (where I found my purse) and all the way back to the store where the store manager handed me my things and gave me a hug before I left. I really couldn’t believe the generosity of this anonymous person—this was Ryan’s big Christmas present and I just couldn’t imagine spending that much on a random act of kindness. The gift of the Christmas spirit was just as valuable to me—especially in light of my grandma’s death the next day. We tried to pay it forward throughout the season, and hopefully we did well enough, but I don’t feel like there was anything I could have done to equal the magnitude of what I was given. This kindness touched my heart and I am still so grateful for this person’s generosity.

So at this point, that fishing pole is one of my favorite things we own. It’s among the many reasons I am impatiently waiting for summer—I can’t wait to get out there and use it.

Nate was able to convince my website to stop dispensing medical advice. I’m not clear on the details of everything involved, but I’m pretty sure it included some serious ninja skills. To recognize the change, I thought I’d update the blog design. What do you think? I’m excited about it.

Everybody go tell Nate what a great guy he is.

Thanks, Nate!

I think it has everything to do with the music. See for yourself.

(Sorry about the ads. But it’s worth it to see this clip, I promise. And, Sam, I have no idea how you could hate this show.)

Anyways, thanks to Nate for fixing it! (Bribery does wonders.) I’ll get something up here soon—I just have to tackle a long editing assignment first. It’s about Columbus, so at least it’ll be interesting. It could have been another piece about onion farming….

But that’s not even the best part! While I was looking for background on how exactly this blessed holiday began, I stumbled across something even more enjoyable: The Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. (Yes, you did read that right.) Written as a clever retort for schools being forced to teach intelligent design in science classes, my main attraction to this religion is the witticisms of its creator. Those who belong to the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, known as Pastafarians, worship the Spaghedeity and also regard pirates as absolute divine beings (see the tie-in to today’s holiday?).

Furthermore, Pastafarians believe that pirates were actually peace-loving explorers who distributed candy to small children. They have also proved direct causality between the decrease in pirates and the increase in global average temperature (see below).

Personally, I think it’s brilliant. Scientific American compares the satire to Jonathan Swift’s A Modest Proposal. RAmen and RAmen.

Lazorexia is defined as the consistent skipping or delaying of meals in order to avoid cooking. Characterized by less than ideal nutrition. Possible causes include the frustrating lack of recipes for a single girl and the loneliness of setting a place for one at a dining room table.

The sharp rise of lazorexia can be attributed to two sources: microwaves and fast food restaurants. (Several studies also link lazorexia to the use of fast food drive-throughs. Most academics accept this theory on the condition that the lazorexic is already in the car.)

Lazorexia, in its current form, manifests itself in an inability to decide what to eat at mealtimes, leading to long periods of mindless grazing or snacking. (Cadbury chocolates and tortilla chips are among the most common snack foods.) Other symptoms include an unwillingness to actually cook anything and a repetitive tendency to open cupboards and stare blankly into them.

The world’s earliest lazorexics survived on wild berries and grasses. However, little else is known about them as most of them were unwilling to relocate when they had exhausted their supply of berries.

Possible cures for lazorexia: While there are no sure-fire cures to lazorexia, having friends or roommates who actually spend time at the house to share mealtimes with significantly cuts down in the frequency of lazorexia episodes.

But I guess that won’t stop me from reading. Off to chapter 1.

Well, it’s because over the course of a single evening, three separate friends tried to talk me into joining. I guess my willpower is no match for the power of three (or something like that). So I decided that, since I was going to join, I may as well do it right. Therefore, I tried to do everything like other people I know who use Facebook.

• I’ve signed up for an account, posted some notes, and written on the walls of all my friends.
• I’ve joined a group: “I will correct your grammar and I won’t feel bad about it.” It’s perfect.
• I’ve even thrown some pictures up online.
• And, I’ve already spent way too much time on it—I’ve even neglected my editing.

Doesn’t that seem right?

Actually, despite the time commitment, I’ve really enjoyed it. Let me tell you, having 17 people want to be your friend in one day is certainly good for the self-esteem. Who knew being internet friends could be so rewarding?

And, for those non-climbers out there, now you can see what he saw…kind of. (Obviously, the 1024×768 panorama doesn’t match the real-life panorama…but it sure was easier and safer to get to!) Also, if you want to pretend you climbed it for yourself, check this out for a better understanding of what the journey was like.

Update: Since Jenn=geek, here are a few more links to get more Everest knowledge out of my system.