And some photos

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Throughout history, epic battles have taken place. Some more balanced than others. Some include the battle of Good versus Evil. In tonight's blog, we will learn of the battle between Stacey and Jacob.
Stacey is the accomplished racket ball player. Jacob is what we can call a novice... a newbie... rook...
a tennis player rather than racket ball. Since the start of their time together, they have played a few games and the series has been some what one sided. Jacob stands proud of what he has accomplished, a whopping one victory... sad day... and Stacey has been dominating thus far (7 wins). Tonight was heartbreaking as Jacob was two points away from winning, but Stacey stormed back from 4 down and won 15-13. It broke his competitive edge, and he subsequently lost the next few games by a combined score of 30 to 10.
I wish I could bring news of victory in other areas, but the series record for Speed (a card game) is at 13 wins for Stacey to 6 wins for Jacob. Skip bo is no better (5-0), neither is Nerts (10-0)... and lets not get started with Boggle

Old Person Conversation of the Week

Me: Are you ready for lunch?

Old Lady: What is he cooking?

Me: (after examining the meal chart) Looks like finger steaks... yummy

Old Lady: Those again!? Them nasty things are older than Methuselah. I'm not going.

Then she said "We might as well get married"

As most of the blog followers know, I am not romantically involved with any females... at all. I am trying to date and find that special someone, but to no avail just yet. I do want to eventually get married, and I would like to have a family, I just have not met her yet. One of the blessings about living in Rexburg is the guy to girl ratio is in my favor, and so I do get hit on more times than not. Also, working where I do, the errant hand of an elderly woman sometimes finds its way into previously uncharted area...

Last friday, the 28th of May I was at work. Having been recently given a promotion to a Restorative Nursing Assistant, RNA for short, I get to work with residents doing therapy instead of manning the bedpans and assisting with showers. I think some of the residents picked up on the new vibe I have been giving out, and started to act out in response.

One lady in particular, we'll call her Betty age 87 with Alzheimers, decided to make my day. Early into my shift, she decided to wake up and start her morning laps. Betty is one of the more mobile people in the facility and has a busted old crimson walker with a black wire basket that doubles as a seat. The basket is stuffed, dare I say busting with useless artifacts found throughout the home. Napkins, kleenex, romantic novels, plastic spoons, music books stolen from the piano room, assort

ed cups from the dining hall, etc. Betty is quite the character.

As Betty was doing her laps around the hallways, she saw me and made a bee line towards me. Fearing for my shins (They have been collided into by many a walker) I put my hands out to stop the advancing metallic device. Betty then proceeded to invite me back to her room for a "good time" as she put it including the quotation marks. I respectfully declined, but to mixed shock and horror, she decided to not wait for a room. I can only assume that she felt her birthday suit was more appropriate for the situation as she started to unbutton her blouse. Having worked at the home for several months, I was well equipped to handle the situation. Buttoning up the blouse and assisting to the dining hall for breakfast, she started to talk about her desire for a family. I assured her that she already has one and I am looking for a younger woman.

Those were the wrong words.

Remember now that we are on our way to the dining hall, which is right next to the front door. One of out corporate officials (who incidentally looks like a carbon copy of Dolores Umbridge) was visiting and had just walked in as I uttered my desire for a more youthful bride to Betty. I could instantly tell this was the perfect storm. Betty looked me in the eye and exclaimed "Well then why am I wearing your clothes?" Just after that, a very Umbridge style cough came from the frog-like woman. But Betty was not done... then she said, "we might as well get married."

Realizing I could not salvage this conversation at all, and fully expecting Miss Umbridge to have a few words for me after work, all I could do was laugh. For some reason, I am talented with the middle aged woman, and experts with the elderly ones. I think I am going to have to consult with Sam about the younger ladies... he would know.

Happy Mothers Day

The earliest memory that I have of my mom is in San Ramon. We had been a family for a while, an things were moving along quite well. It was time for me to go to school, at Neil Armstrong Elementary. I was going to attend kindergarten. I still was rockin the curly and sun bleached blonde mullet. No doubt I was a cute kid. Mom was very concerned about me having ashy knees and elbow's. To combat that, copious amounts of Vasaline lotion was applied to my arms and legs. I had little noodle arms and so mom would put lotion on the arms and then squeeze her hands together and I would pull out my arm. It was a bonding moment for me. For some reason, it made me feel loved and very secure. I am not sure if i ever told mom how much I loved it, but I would look forward to it every day. It helped me grow closer to the woman who is easily the most influential and beloved woman in my life. Thank you mom for your patience and wisdom while raising me. You are an amazing mother and I am lucky to call you my mom. I love you.

Love, Jacob

Peacock Walk

This beautiful bird is known as the white peacock. Truly a sight to behold. If we could all take a moment and try to imagine the thought process of a peacock. Surely the bird must feel some degree of superiority. And I am sure that the smug bird would also have a strut to accompany the pomp and circumstance of the feather spread that attaches to its behind. I would also wager that the bird would have to think, since my butt looks this good, imagine how my face looks...

But enough of the bird and on to me. Last week, I decided to ask a girl out on a date. She and I have a friend in common, therefore I saw her more often and decided a date was in order. It being finals week, a quick dinner and dessert was chosen for the outing, and we went out. While on the date, the girl remarked that I slouch as I drive and sometimes when I walk around. I responded that I have rather broad shoulders and that I do not want to appear to have a "Peacock Walk". I want to avoid the cocky walk to appear nicer and more friendly.

She said to forget that and to be proud of having sexy man shoulders. I said ok, and have been trying to walk straight up since then. However, since that time, I've been to work and dealt with the unexpected ramifications of the strut.

Not two days after the date, I went to work. With the advice still on my mind, I walked bold and upright. As I walked into one of the residents rooms, the elderly lady perked up. "Oh my, you are very tall. I like your curly hair", taken slightly aback and laughing to myself about the strange coupling of height and hair, I thanked the lady and helped her to get ready for the day. As we were ready to leave for breakfast, I realized I needed to put on the foot pedals to her wheel chair. As I was bent over attaching the stirrups, several things happened quickly. Another non-descript complement came out and a very age experienced hand was placed on my back, ran down it, and then settled on my bottom. A firm grab was then followed by a laugh from her and a red face from me.

I was once again resolved to not adopt the peacock walk into my daily life. Or rather, I will just have to save the walk for the times I am around young ladies rather than the oldies who have hands that know no bounds.

But I really cant complain... other than that isolated incident, its just another day in paradise here in East Idaho.

Weekend

This past weekend, my roommates and I had a good time together. While being away from family, I was grateful to at least be with some fun people. Seeing as we all are LDS, we went to the Priesthood session of Conference and then afterward, went out to celebrate. This coming week is finals week, so naturally, all are a little stressed. As a result of the extra stress, we planned a trip to the local steak house called Stockmans, which is famous in the area for good quality steak and "All you can eat" steak.

Naturally, this drew us in. Having starved the whole day in preparation for the big night, we became ravenous. On the way to the steak house, we proclaimed that we could easily eat 6, 7, maybe even 8 steaks, as we had prev

iously scouted out the size of the al you can eat steaks. The steaks were somewhere in the vicinity of 4 to 6 ounces each.

When we arrived, they staff knew we were coming, because one of the roommates works there, he informed them that we were coming... hungry. We ordered, and were first brought salad and bread rolls. (Not as good as dads)

Next came the steaks. Expecting the smaller steak, we let out an audible gasp at the sheer size and weight of the cows sitting on our plates.

The first steak was no lie, 16 ounces plus. It was massive. Not wanting to be out done by one another, we all pounded steak one. Steak two came up, the same size as the first. This one took some additional focus, but we muscled that one down too.

Next we took a short walk around the restaurant, to make some room, then it was round three. The third steak was equal in size and we were struggling. Big time. Alas, a new battle raged in our oxygen starved brains. In one corner it was Good judgement. In the other, it was Pride. A fierce battle ensued. Sadly, pride won out, and we ordered another steak. Much to our pleasure, the waitress brought out small 8 ouncers. Thinking we could best another piece of meat we dug in. However, by this time the steak had stopped being steak and tasted more like flavorless gum. Every bite was a challenge. Admitting defeat at the hands of the weenie steak, we asked for the check.

In total, we had approx. 56 ounces of steak in us. Thats 3 1/2 pounds! I think I will never eat steak again. Aside from the horrible stomach ache, a good time was had by all. In one week, four of the six roommates will leave to return home. It was an early good bye.