"Oh what fun it is to be THREE"

Short but sweet, this home video is a perfect representation of the C-Monster. Watch for a flash of orange!

P.S. Don't blink.

The 12 Days of A Blair Christmas

Christmas has come, and Christmas has gone. Two weeks of no school, no obligations, and no schedule are done. So now it is back to school for the final semester -- ever. I'm serious the time, no more school after this.

However, in honor of the two weeks of bliss, I have documented 12 days of a very Blairy Christmas:

• 12 Additional inches of snow that Alta received (17)...compared to Park City (5)...on the day I chose to go to Park city
• 11 Puking relatives
• 10 Days of no school
• 9 AA batteries burned in flashlights
• 8 Extended family dinners
• 7 Nights at home
• 6 Nights at the in-laws
• 5 Pounds gained then lost
• 4 Snowshoe treks
• 3 Christmas Parties
• 2 Snowmobile days
• 1 BABY DUE IN JULY :-)

Kids Pray the Darndest Things

Cayden is getting to the point where he is starting to understand how prayers work. We have been working on it so that when the Bishop comes over and asks to pray we are not totally embarrassed.

The cute thing is he is now realizing that you can pray to ask for things. A couple of weeks ago he had a bad case of diaper rash that made his "bum" hurt. At dinner we were about to say a blessing on the food and Cayden asked Suzanne to bless his bum so it would not hurt. She did. I fought back laughter.

Last week we were saying prayers with him before we went to bed. He has the "Heavenly Father" part at the beginning down pat. It is touch and go after that. Anyway, Suzanne was trying to get him to repeat what she was saying in the prayer.

As a little bit of background, we had just carved pumpkins or "pum-pins" and Cayden was distraught that we did not have any candles to put in them. As a result, the prayer went something like this:

Suz: Please bless Grandma and Grandpa.

Cayden: Bless candles

Suz: ...Please bless Grandma and Grandpa.

Cayden: Candles!

Suz: Ok...please bless us that we can get some candles at the store tomorrow.

Cayden: and treats!

Blogservation #2

Cayden is watching TV and I am on the laptop. He is watching a PBS show, Caillou. Have you seen it? Caillou is perhaps one of the most annoying little cartoon boys you could imagine. The voice...so painful.

Anyway, what I cannot figure out is why is Caillou bald? He is obviously old enough to have hair. His younger sister, Rosie, has a moptop, so why is Caillou bald?

My theory: the show's storyboard artists are lazy. Why add labor-intensive details like hair to the main character? He is in every scene. At least Caillou has a line for a nose. While googling Caillou to see if I was spelling his name correctly I came across the show's home page where they had the frequently asked questions page. Guess what number one was...

WHY IS CAILLOU BALD?

Their response was less than satifactory:

Generally, for children, Caillou is a larger than life image of a preschooler. The fact that he is bald does not seem to bother preschoolers in the least. Not only do they never mention it, but when asked to think about why Caillou has no hair, our focus groups just laughed and replied: "He just doesn’t have any hair!"

Thank you PBS for dodging that one. If I went to the doctor and asked why I was bald and all the doctor could tell me was: "Well, it doesn't seem to bother other people" I would ask for my co-pay back.

During my Caillou "research" I came across some pretty amusing comments from viewers who compared his voice to nails on the chalkboard and Chinese water torture.

Ultimately, I am not too upset by the hair thing. I think I am probably more upset that I just spent the last hour researching a show about a four-year-old cartoon boy. There is an hour of my life I will never get back.

Band-Aids

Today I replaced the 25-year-old light in our bathroom with a shiny new one. If you have ever been to your great-grandmother's house, you have seen the light I am talking about. It features two glass domes hanging from gold chains attached to the ceiling by hooks. Classy.

As always, Cayden helps dad with anything involving tools. After I got my toolbox out of the garage, Cayden went and got his "tools." He actually has a toy tool set. While I put the light on he got all of his tools out and went to work.

Shortly after I finished I asked him to pick up his tools. He was not interested. A few minutes later I was walking across the floor and accidentally stepped on one of his "tools." I said "Ouch! Cayden, can you pick up your tools? I just stepped on one and it really hurt!"

He made no attempt to pick up the tools. Instead, he brought me a band aid. The squeaky wheel gets a band aid.

A Bachelor's Week in Review

In case you have not heard. Suzanne took Cayden and left me...

...To go to Utah for vacation. I have to work, so I could not go home yet. As a result I have been living the life of the bachelor for a week now.

Being a bachelor is fun...the first day. I dropped Suz and Cayden off Saturday and went right to work vacuuming. I borrowed a friend's vacuum with enough suction I was legitimately concerned it would pull the carpet up. I vacuumed the apartment and detailed the car, bringing both back up to "Rand's OCD spec." Then I hopped on my bike and rode 30 miles, never once worrying if I would get back late.

Sunday I had church and a Priesthood meeting to occupy most of my time. My hope to ride my bike as much as possible was crushed on Monday when it was forecasted to rain. Figures. So, I got up early and ran. I only run when there is not time to ride or it looks like weather will be a problem. It did not rain by the way. I stayed at work until just after 8:00 pm working on some projects to get caught up. I got home and after about 30 minutes figured out how to turn the oven on so I could cook a meal my loving wife and lovingly made for me before she left. By about 9:30 pm that loving meal was ready and even gave me some leftovers for Tuesday.

By Wednesday, the bachelor lifestyle was wearing on me. I got home a little later than usual and met up with a friend to go for a bike ride. Half way into our 20-mile ride I learned that this ride would be approximately two times longer than any ride he had done before. I got home even later. Thursday I did the same ride by myself (quicker) and got home in time to try and remember how to do laundry. I could not use the laundry room on our floor because someone neglectfully left their clothing in both washers LONG after they was finished washing. I finished the wash (on another floor) just in time to go to bed. I realized that I had not opened the curtains since I closed them Sunday night. Kind of depressing.

Friday finally came and after a long day of waiting for the weekend I came home to enjoy a night of peace and quiet. After talking with my mission president on Facebook (who would have thought, right?) I cooked a Totino's pizza and watched a Denzel movie. Totino's pizza and Denzel had me feeling good again about the bachelor lifestyle, but I finished the movie and it was not time to go to bed so I actually started reading a book! I need help.

Saturday morning I hopped back on the bike and did not come back until I had racked up 40 miles. Clouds started to roll in and I made the decision then and there that if it started to rain, I was going to get wet, but I was not going home. Fortunately, the rain held off until I returned home.

It is now 5:46 pm and I have ridden all I want, napped all I want. I changed the oil in the car, went to the store to buy Oreos, filled up on gas, threw away all the old food in the fridge, and tried to clean the grime off the wheels of the car.

I have been to the grocery store exactly twice now. During the two trips combined, here is exactly what I bought:

• Peanut Butter
• Butter
• Syrup
• Marshmallow Maties
• Deodorant
• Oreos (yes -- the first time I was too cheap to pay $3.00, but the second time I was desperate.)
• Milk
• Little Caesar's pizza on the way home
• Almost bought toilet paper, but did not. I could not find it and did not want to look any harder than I was already looking. I think I will have enough to get me through. If not, I will spool some onto a stick from the bathroom at work.

The floors are still vacuumed and the car is still detailed but I am ready for Suz and the C-monster to come back. During this time of solitude I have learned a lot about life and myself:

• Number one. Do not wash the car and clean the windows at night. You will be disappointed with your work in the morning.
• Number two. You can turn the temperature to whatever degree setting you want, but the oven is not on unless the dial is turned to "bake".
• Number three. Marshmallow Maties are tricky to purchase. Do not select a bag by the one that has a lot of marshmallows in the clear cellophane window of the bag. You will only be disappointed when you find nothing but oats in the middle.
• Number four. Be grateful for your family. Tender.

When You're Here, You're Family

Time for a relaxing trip to Olive Garden. Why? Well, it has been a long time -- and we have a gift card. Which makes it about the same price as our usual fare (Wendy's, KFC, McDonald's, etc.)

We could not find a babysitter. Either because all of the young women in our ward have seen the C-monster in action, or they are legitimately busy. Could be either. So the three of us went to Olive Garden last night. We thought we would let Cayden try sitting in a normal chair. He did alright. Until he discovered the chair had wheels on it. Then he started scooting around the dining room. I tried to distract him by drawing a car, a truck, a bike, and a snowmobile in that order on his kid's menu with the free crayons.

Fortunately, his $5.25 pizza arrived just in time for him to decide he was no longer hungry. I remember visiting my brother's family years ago and watching his kids NOT eat pricey meals at restaurants and thinking "I will never make that mistake."

Instead of eating his pizza, he was content to eat one bite of each of the bread sticks. He then found that he could stick them on his fingers and it made it look like he had big swollen fingers. Frustrating, yet funny -- I know. The sliding chair made me nervous and I finally found a high chair we could strap him in. Which...he did not like.

Do not misunderstand. It was still fun to go out and eat with our little family, but your realize you are no longer young when you sit at Olive Garden and wish you were at McDonald's.

On the way out I took him in the bathroom to wash the bread stick garlic off his hands. I had to use the bathroom and thought we would see how long he could stand still in one place. (Number One only, I'm not crazy.) So I had him stand inside the stall with me against the door and told him to stay still. As soon as he heard me "tinkling" he started poking his head around to see what was going on. Then the Italian music (that for some reason is always broadcast at concert level in Olive Garden's bathrooms) started to get to Cayden and he started jumping around.

This time was not as bad as in the Chili's bathroom the other day. I told him to be still and he did a good job until some bouncy music came on and I saw just one leg start to bounce. It spread precipitously to the rest of his body and in less than 10 seconds he went from standing motionless on point, to running around the bathroom with his arms out jumping, all the while proclaiming "I'm an airplane, I'm an airplane."

All in all, life has changed with the C-monster, but I would not change it for the world! Oh, tender...

Friday night we celebrated the birth of a new weekend by going to McDonald's. Cayden loves McDonald's, and actually -- we kind of like it too. Not really because of the food, but because of the Playland. It keeps Cayden more or less entertained while we enjoy our fine dining. We had a two-for-one Big Mac coupon. Sweet!

Cayden enjoys it that much more when there are other kids there he can play with. He likes to join in their games as if they are old friends. In fact, he seems to adopt himself into other families quite easily.

Yesterday was no different. There were two families there with 11 kids between them. As the only white child, Cayden was still pretty easy to track. Eventually the two families left and Cayden had to look for other kids to follow. Pretty soon a seven-year-old girl came over to Suz and I and said: "Hey, is that your kid?"

Cayden walked around the corner. "Yes" we said.

"He keeps following me and sitting down in the chair next to me. And when my mom gets here with our food, SHE is going to sit there."

"Okay" I said, "We'll make sure he moves."

The story would have ended there, but only 10 seconds later this same anti-social girl came over to talk to me about Michael Jackson. You can't make this stuff up. This girl had learned from her mother that MJ took a lot of drugs and that is why he died.

All I could think to say without laughing in surprise to this girl's sudden gabby nature was: "Oh, really?"

"Yep, and he even has little kids and now there is no one to take care of them."

True again. I did my best to maintain a smile without a laugh and she followed Cayden into the play structure and asked if he wanted to play. Go figure.

She had nothing to say about Farrah.

Ta-da! New Design, Same Whitty Remarks -- and a Story to Boot!

I would like to take a moment and introduce my blog's super new layout that is both visually stimulating and aesthetically pleasing.  The entire concept was created from scratch by my wonderful wife.  More examples of her visually stimulating and aesthetically pleasing work are located at Purple Tulip Designs. 

In many cases re-designing your blog is like getting a haircut.  Nobody notices the haircut, but they all have great things to say after you tell them you got one.  This re-design is different.  This sensational new blog layout is like the haircut I got my freshman year at BYU.  

Yes, I will tell you the story: 

I think my parents parted my hair on the left side of my head from the day I had hair long enough to be parted.  That part took up permanent residence for nearly 18 years.  Just the part alone would not have been so bad.  It was the spike that made the ensemble work.  So that part was holding down the left side of my head while the rest of my hair was carefully combed eastward, completing the look.   As I hit middle school, I completely reinvented myself by replacing the left-hand spike, with a 'feathering' technique on the hair to the right.  I grew so accustomed to combining my hair in this delicate, yet deliberate fashion that I could not try anything different. 

It would take a near disaster to shift my hair paradigm.  That disaster occurred one day during my freshman year at BYU at the Bon Losee Academy of Hair.  Bon Losee was a beauty school located in Provo.  Freshmen got cheap hair cuts and beauty school students got real practice with human hair.  It was a win-win...if you did not care how your hair looked. Being a bargain-savvy shopper, I thought I would give Bon Losee a chance.  Had I known that the fate of the left-hand part hung in the balance I never would have gone.  As I sat in the chair I kept telling myself: "This will work out."  

Trish, the young girl cutting my hair that day appeared very nervous as she grabbed my hair with one hand and positioned the scissors with the other.  I instinctively knew this was new to Trish too.  I could tell that she still did not know how to grab the hair. 

Regardless, Trish gave it her best effort.  I saw clump after clump of hair fall silently to the ground.  When she was finished she had to have her manager come and 'sign off' on my hair cut making sure that it lived up to Bon Losee's standards and that Trish had not severed an artery or one of my ears. 

As part of the $7.00 hair cut you get a free wash and scalp massage.  As I laid there and watched Trish learn to wash hair, I told myself again:  "It will work out." 

I got home and took a shower.  You never know how a haircut really went until you take a shower.  Something happens on the drive home that I have never been able to figure out.  Either the hair gets shorter or my head gets bigger.  Either way there is less hair up there than when I leave the barbershop.  On this occasion I got out of the shower and looked at my hair.  Something was awry.  There was not enough hair left to support the part.  I tried in vain to comb some follicles west and other follicles east, but they sprung back in place.  Dire circumstances had necessitated a drastic change.

The 'Caesar' cut was born.  You know what I am talking about: push the hair forward rather than to the side.  Spike it up in front and you are done.  It was new, European, and hip.  Nearly ten years have passed and there have been variations, but for the most part, I am still rocking the Caesar cut.  You go with what works.  

This blog, like that first Caesar cut, will not go unnoticed. With the help of my loving wife, I am starting a new chapter in my blogging history. 

Blogservations...

Blog + Observations = Blogservations.  Remember this because I am not explaining it again.

"The Apartment Complex Playa"

We are now living in an apartment complex in Fridley, MN during our summer internship.  In every apartment complex there is always the one guy with a tricked out Chrysler 300C.  If you have lived in an apartment complex, you know this guy.  The guy with the car covered in chrome and black windows, riding on 22" dubs (rims).  And you know they are 22" rims because it says it in three different places on the car.  The majority of Playa's stereo is in the trunk, but somehow manages to cause enough vibrations that you can hear his door handles rattle as he passes you.  Livin' the dream!  

"Cartoons: Pre-school for Poor Folks"

I remember the days of Saturday morning cartoons that did nothing more than entertain. Classic example: He-Man and the Masters of the Universe. He-Man did not have any ulterior motives such as teaching me to share with Baby Bop or how BJ can deal with a new baby in the hose. Nope--He-Man was all about using his powers to defend Eternia from the evil forces of Skeletor. These days, He-Man lies dormant as Barney teaches us to share, Sid the Science Kid freaks me out with his slightly slow-motion un-natural dancing, and Dora tricks us into learning Español. Por esta razón...dang it, she did it again! 

For this reason, I miss the good old days of mindless Saturday morning cartoons.  If I want my son to learn, I will send him to school.  But right now he is only two years old.  PBS needs to stop trying to help him get his GED.

So un-natural it must be evil.  

C-Monster: What are you doing!?

For those who are wondering, Cayden is now well into the two-year-old stage, and although we love him dearly, he continues to work hard to live up to the "C-Monster" name.  

We spent the last couple of days at Suzanne's parents' house during this time off between school and my internship.  The other day, Suz and I were engaged in a long conversation.  It was one of those rare moments of silence for Cayden, which was great.  But with an "active" child like Cayden, sometimes too much silence can be a problem.  It is kind of like putting a bell on a dog.  The bell helps you keep track of where the dog is.  When you do not hear the bell anymore, there is a problem. 

This moment of blissful silence was broken by a sputtering sound.  It sounded like when you squeeze a bottle of lotion that is empty and all you get is mainly air with a little splattered lotion.  Turns out, that was what it was.  Suzanne looked over and said "What the Flip?!"

Two thoughts entered my head:  

1. "There was a bottle of aloe vera lotion near the couch -- but it was full -- so it couldn't be that."  
   
   
2. "Did Suz just say 'Flip'?"

I was right on the second one but wrong on the first.  There was a full bottle of aloe vera lotion near the couch.  Now there is an empty one.  But where could all the lotion have gone?  On to the leather couch, of course.  

My thought is Cayden wanted a little bit of lotion to put on his sun burnt arms just like Dad had done the day before.  Having applied too much pressure to the squeeze tube, he ended up with more than a little bit of lotion.  The theory continues that after wiping as much lotion as possible on his arms, he choose to wipe the remaining lotion on his shirt and shorts.  When he ran out of dry space on his shirt and shorts, he started spreading it on couch.

The leather couch was slick and made spreading lotion much more fun than spreading it on skin or clothing, so the C-Monster opted for more lotion.  Eventually, the tube of lotion ran out, thus producing the sputtering sound that caught our attention.  When we arrived at the couch, the right side had a generous coat of aloe vera lotion that Cayden had worked very hard to spread evenly across the leather surface.  

Cayden looked up at Mom and Dad, who both had unfriendly expressions.  Cayden but his very moisturized hands in the air with his palms up and said "Mess?"

Yes, Cayden, that is a mess.

Thurston Thrasher and Othe Extreme (Yet Safe) Activities

Wow, two posts in a day!  Okay, it was really one big post that I split into two small, more manageable posts so as not to overwhelm you, the reader.

Friday night my dad and I, and a few of his friends unloaded at the mouth of Adam's canyon at 5:00 pm.  Four hours, 4900 vertical feet, and 1900 calories later, we arrived at Thurston peak, the highest point in Davis and Morgan counties. 

It was about the perfect temperature when we started, a refreshing 55-degree overcast day.  It started to snow just as we got high enough to put our snowshoes on.  By the time we got our snowshoes on, Bart, who chose not to bring snowshoes, was half way up the bowl.  I hurried to catch him and we both rested under a tree as we waited for the rest of the group to get there.  At that point, the snow and wind really started to pick up. 

When we arrived at the peak around 9:00 pm the snow and wind were blowing harder than I can every remember and it must have been in the low 20's.  We quickly took pictures with Dad's waterproof camera and started back down.  Going down was easier than going up until we took our snowshoes off and had to walk through the mud created by the rain at lower elevations.  On

 the way down we all talked about going out and getting steaks to celebrate our victory.  When we arrived at the truck at 12:15 am everyone just wanted to be home.  So...my dad still owes me a steak.

By Monday the storm was gone and the air was clear.  A bluebird spring day was perfect to cap off the snowmobiling season.  The snow is melting incredibly fast and the streams were all full.  The melting snow made conditions less than ideal down around the cabin so we headed up toward Francis peak.  The firm base with four or five inches of spring snow made it easy to get into the bowls behind Francis peak.  

All it all it was a great day and a good way to end the snowmobiling season.

What Should I Be Doing Right Now?

Every six months I will post a blog entry whether I need it or not.  I cannot believe it has been that long since the last one.  Business school has kept me pretty busy, as evidenced by the lack of posts.  Last week I finished the first year of the MBA program and have a couple of weeks until I start my internship with Cummins in Minneapolis.  

To catch you up, we moved home to Utah to go to BYU's full-time MBA program.  Having just finished the first year, I have lined up an internship with Cummins Power Generation in Fridley, MN (just outside of Minneapolis -- AKA "The Mini Apple.")  If you do not know what Cummins does, just ask my mom.  She can explain it really well.  To put it briefly, Cummins Power Generation makes alternators and generators for everything from boats and RVs to huge backup power systems for hospitals.  In fact, they even make the rockets that thrust the space shuttle into space.  Not really.  

It has been a little weird being out of school this last week.  I have not really

 known what to do with myself.  At first, I had to keep convincing myself that there was not something I was supposed to be doing at all times.  After about two days that feeling wore off and I have taken more naps in the last week than in the two semesters before it.  

Aside from daily naps and catching up on re-runs of Tyra I have been spending my time hiking, biking, snowmobiling, and biking -- in that order.  More on that later.

Juice Please?

I can't believe the last post was in August! In all fairness, I am now a graduate student and everything I write is critically judged -- a practice that tends to stifle creativity.

To catch you up, we left Memphis and a home we still owned and moved back to Utah. After a few weeks we found a spacious apartment at homely Wymount. It is great because the apartment does not echo like our house did because there is no wall far enough away for sound waves ... to ... do whatever they do to echo. Our house in Memphis miraculously sold the day before we had to make a rent payment for Wymount. The church is true!

Anyway. It is almost Thanksgiving and I thought I would treat you with some creativity so that tomorrow at the dinner table you have something to be thankful for. I wrote this a while back, but it is 100% true and accurate, as far as I can remember.

When I was a senior at Davis High School I took an elective class titled "Adult Roles and Responsibilities." The topics of this class revolved around parenting, marriage, cooking and adult responsibilities – all subjects that are constantly on the mind of a 17-year-old boy/man. Among these topics was that of childbirth. I'm not sure if this was really intended to teach teenage boys about childbirth, or indirectly to prevent teenage boys from engaging in practices that resulted in childbirth. Either way, I suppose the process works.

The capstone of this wonderful lecture series on childbirth was a trip to (then) Humana Hospital to watch a fun little video tape of nameless random woman's exciting child birthing experience.

It would not have been so bad if I were not the only teenage boy there. As it turns out, the rest of the boys in the class decided to skip class that day, and I didn't get the memo – one of many memos I missed in high school.

What an experience! This educational trip did not just stop with a birthing video. After the video, a fresh placenta was rolled in.

I am not sure if it was the video or the placenta or some permutation of both, but it was apparently a shock to my system. As the class walked down the hall, my head felt lighter and lighter, and I had a hard time avoiding the walls. Before I knew it, I was awoken by the sharp fall to the ground.

Don’t worry. Fortunately I was at a hospital. Almost immediately there was a nurse at my side. Before I could say “no” I was lying on a hospital bed contemplating how I would face my friends at school. The nurse made me drink some juice. After taking a moment to fix my hair, which was a little out of place from the fall, the nurse led me back to my waiting classmates. I remember looking up to see them looking back at me. There I was, being escorted down the hall with a cup of juice in my hand and a red bump on my head.

All I could think to mutter was:

"What does someone have to do to get some juice around here?"

Home for Sale: Arlington, TN

We have made the plunge. We are leaving Memphis to return to BYU for graduate school. Never have Suzanne nor I had such a difficult decision to make. That includes marriage, having a child, accepting a job, filling up a Net Flix cue, renting an apartment, and buying a home.

For the last two months we have been torn between Michigan and BYU. Finally, we decided BYU is the best long-term and short-term solution for our family. Now my mom can stop fasting twice a week.

Although we are very excited to be moving home, there is a little bit of anxiety regarding all the details, which include: selling the house, packing up the house, driving our stuff across the country Clampett style, unloading our belongings...somewhere, and starting school at BYU on September 2nd.

Anyway, just a few things to do. On the job front, I have taken an 'Educational Leave' with Ford, which keeps the door open for me to potentially come back in two years if I choose. I feel like I kind of just jumped off a cliff with a small parachute but we are excited to be doing this and we feel good about it. Except for Cayden...he has no clue what is going on.

School Update

In case you have not heard from Suz's blog and network of blog-enabled friends, I was accepted at University of Michigan. Although it is great news, it is somewhat anti-climatic as we are waiting to see if Ford will be able to relocate me soon.

It is already looking like I will miss fall semester. Hopefully it will work out for winter semester. I will keep you posted, but probably after the fact.

Massive and Other Superlatives

If you are acquainted with other members of the Blair family and their respective blogs, then you have likely read their accounts of our journey to Cabo San Lucas by now and are sick of hearing about it. For that, I apologize. Although their fluffy, commercialized accounts do lend a partial truth to what happened, they are just that: a partial truth.

So get yourself a cold beverage, use the restroom, and sit back for the true Blair Mexican experience.

1. The Massive Papercut: You may have heard about it already. It was the slice heard around the world. I was trying to help Lindsay find something on a sheet of paper and without warning she turned on me. I do not know what it was that set her off, but I have never seen that look in her eyes. It was like a cat that had backed itself into a corner. I motioned harmlessly toward the piece of paper, and with one enormous swoop, she thrust the paper toward me -- pulling it sideways as she came. This sideways thrust turned an innocent piece of brilliant white paper into a weapon capable of penetrating flesh.

I tried to react and step back, but it was too late. The paper had already penetrated the space between my finger and fingernail, leaving in its wake a swath of exposed flesh. In a calm yet stern voice, I said: "Lindsay, you have given me a massive papercut."

Why massive? Lesser adjectives such as large, big, or huge simply would not convey the gravity of this wound. Within seconds, my body's circulatory system shifted blood flow from my head and vital organs to this gaping wound. With the cut being located underneath my fingernail, there was no way to mitigate the loss of blood.

As I struggled to remain on my feet, the first thought that entered my head was how I was going to swim in the salty ocean with this unconcealable wound. You would be happy to know that the wound has since healed and I am a stronger person for it.

2. Mexican Economy Soars: From the first time Julie and Lindsay made their way to the beachfront at the foot of our hotel, they were an easy mark for the natives who had come to peddle their wares. Within twenty minutes there was a swarm of white-clothed natives huddling around Julie and Lindsay. Although they both paid cash, Lindsay's financial backer turned out to be Mom. With the influx of American Dollars, the Mexican economy felt a slight bump during the week of May 26th, termed by analysts as the 'Blair Stimulus package.'

3. The Sunburn: The Blair family genes produce skin that is almost incapable of absorbing large amounts of sun without the assistance of sunscreen. Apparently, this was news to Lindsay. For some reason she assumed that because she was able to watch TV in her living room in Ogden, Utah without getting a sunburn, she would be able to spend hours on the beach in Cabo San Lucas ALSO without getting a sunburn.

Therefore after day 1, Lindsay spent the balance of the vacation fully-clothed on the beach. This did not prove problematic for her as it allowed her more time to stimulate the Mexican economy.

4. Cheap Sunglasses: When I arrived in Mexico, I had one goal in mind. I needed a pair of fake sunglasses. As it turns out, I have somewhat picky tastes. I found a pair I really liked but the seller was unwilling to accept five American dollars. Although, I really liked the glasses, I played it cool and resorted to wait for the right deal to come along.

Unfortunately, I never found that pair again. I did track down the same seller the following day. That coveted pair of sunglasses was no longer in his portfolio. When I indicated he did not have what I wanted, he presented a small plastic bag containing herbs. My street smarts told me these herbs were not harvested to add flavor to pasta.

I moved on -- quickly.

Prior to returning home, I did settle on a pair of sunglasses. It was very important that I paid less than the original asking price. After an internal debate I purchased a pair of Oakley's for $9.00 (original asking price was $11.00.) I am sure they are Oakley's because they said Oakley right on them and had an Oakley tag attached to them. For some reason, Oakley's in Mexico approximately 90% cheaper than in the United States.

5. No Bad Days: It started as a simple recommendation for a restaurant. Mom picked up an inside track scoop on a great place for lunch following our very fun snorkeling outing. The place was called "The Roadhouse." Our directions to said location were far from complete. We knew it was close to Costco, which had become our central point of reference during our visit.

We ended up having to ask for directions from the natives. We were fortunate that we had a native Spanish speaker in our Grand Caravan: Julie. After sending Julie into a Hotel, gas station, restaurant, and Costco -- all of which yielding no results -- we began to wonder of "The Roadhouse" actually existed or if we were chasing an invisible dream.

Hunger and disappointment quickly turned to panic as Dad took a shortcut down a dirt road and before we knew it we were being followed by a couple of natives in this Mad Max-inspired Lincoln Town Car. Fortunately, Dad was very adept in navigating the side streets as this was not his first time being lost in a central American ghetto that week.

After barely escaping Mad Max with our lives a stroke of luck pointed us in the right direction. Before we knew it, there it was ahead on the right, like a mirage: "The Roadhouse."

From the sign you can see that "The Roadhouse" is open six days a week but closed Tuesday. It was Tuesday. The restaurant's theme is "There are no bad days." Tuesday was a bad day.

All kidding aside, it was a great vacation. For the first time since the C-Monster was born, Suzanne and I got to be irresponsible newlyweds again. Aside from the adventures listed above, we also got to take a water taxi over to Lover's beach. Dad and I also hiked over to Divorce beach -- seriously, that is what it is called. It was a great vacation and we are very grateful to Mom and Dad for making it happen. I think it will be a long time before a vacation like this happens again.

Thanks Mom and Dad.

School Update

I was also accepted to BYU's full-time program. My interview with University of Michigan is next Wednesday in Ann Arbor, Michigan.

Update...

Good news folks! I am going to school...somewhere. I was accepted at Emory University in Atlanta a few weeks ago and today, at Carnegie Mellon in Pittsburgh. I applied to both schools' evening MBA programs so I could attend school and still work full time with Ford.

Ultimately, I am still waiting to hear back from University of Michigan, but it is sounding good. So I will update you when I know more.

"OCD yeah you know me"

My lovely wife has recently posted the familiar "7 things about me" post that currently pervades the blogging world like a communicable illness. Although she did not directly ask me to reply in kind, my recent lack of posting and wanting to satisfy her good nature have resulted in my list of "7 things you may not know about me."

Please be warned, what I am about to share I have never shared with anyone except Suz...and maybe my closest friends...and my family...and informal acquaintances...and people I sit next to on planes.

1. I have a slight case of self-diagnosed OCD. Do not worry about me Mom. I am not talking about the life-inhibiting OCD you see on episodes of MTV's True Life. My case involves little quirks. I check doors twice to make sure they are locked. I unplug everything I can when I leave the house for a prolonged amount of time because I fear the house will catch fire if I do not. Just little stuff. I am not concerned about these habits, because they are little quirks I am aware of. Suz, likes to remind me of them in case I forget. As long as I recognize them, they are not going to control my life.

2. I am a Left-Handed Person. Although this explains my markedly high intelligence and profound knack for creative reasoning, it also prevents me from sharing in the benefits of a community baseball mitt, or borrowing a friend's golf clubs. Just as Chris McManus penned (with his left hand undoubtedly) "left-handers' brains are structured differently in a way that widens their range of abilities." I share the blessing and curse of former politicians Ronald Reagan and Benjamin Franklin, late-night entertainers David Letterman and Jay Leno, and other outside-the-box thinkers like Napoleon Bonaparte, Bart Simpson and Fidel Castro. So to my readers out there who share the plight of left-handedness, I say: "Unite! For we too, will have our day." (August 13th)

3. I love Peeps. By peeps, I mean sugar-covered marshmallows, not people from my 'hood. Peeps are best enjoyed when hardened. Cut the cellophane open and let them cure for a day or two. Hang on...

...Sorry, I thought I left the stove on.

4. I ran for student body in 9th grade. All my friends were involved in soccer, basketball and other extra-curricular activities. I felt being a member of the National Honor Society was not enough, so I ran for office as a last-minute write in. Believe or not I ran on the "Chris Farley, Motivational Speaker" platform. The administration did not appreciate my reference to rolling doobies in a van down by the river during my election skit. I gracefully bowed out of the race shortly after...because I did not make the primaries.

5. As a child I had a Teddy Ruxpin. One day my cousin broke Teddie's lower jaw, rendering him deaf and mute. On that day I learned that life is not fair.

6. I married the first woman that would kiss me. She was also the first woman that would hold my hand and the first woman that would go on more than one date with me. It only takes one, if it is the right one. Tender.

7. Yes, I did get my tongue stuck on the shelf in the freezer. Why? My brain told me to. (Stop laughing Julie.) I have no other explanation. I was young and impressionable and that left-handed brain started thinking out of the box, right out of the box.

Well that is all you get for now. I feel emotionally vulnerable. I need to go. I do not think I locked the door when I got home.