Anyone Want To Go?

This past week, I've had the urge to go outside and do something. Maybe it's the winter blues or maybe it's due to the fact that I normally spend 8-12 hours a day holed up in a campus basement working on computers. I really wanted to go out and go somewhere or do something that would be memorable.

I remembered hearing about and seeing pictures of a rock formation in Arizona called "The Wave". Once you see it, you kind of understand how it got the name. Anyways, I decided that I really want to go hike out to The Wave sometime.


The only problem with going is that the Bureau of Land Management, in an effort to preserve the formation, only allow 20 people per day to go out to the formation. It's all controlled by permits. You can apply for a permit for a specific date, but to get one, you have to win the "lottery" for the permit. Turns out that there are usually about 100-150 people who apply for a permit on any given day. 10 permits are given away in advance and 10 are given away the day before in a lottery style giveaway. So chances for getting a permit online are about 10 percent and getting one the day before just depends on the day and how many people show up.

I'm hoping to get a permit sometime this year, late summer, early fall. Sometime before school starts I guess, so more likely late summer. Anyone want to go? The largest permit you can apply for is 6 people. It's about a 1-2 hour hike in to the wave, then there are places called "Hamburger Rock" and "The Wave 2" that are in the general area also. It's pretty much just a day hike, but it's right near the Utah-Arizona border, so it'll more likely than not take 2 days. (1 traveling and 1 hiking) Anyways, let me know if you want to come so that I can get in touch with you to get this thing planned. See ya later.

Mystery Rebecca

I hope I don't offend, but there is a certain "Rebecca" who comments on my and Shanna's blogs sometimes. We aren't sure which Rebecca that we know to attribute the comments to. Anyone out there in the cyberworld know who it is? Rebecca, if you're reading this, and you aren't a super hero then can you reveal your secret identity?

Socks

I've always loved wearing socks. When I was little, I would rather wear socks around the house than go barefoot. I also would rather wear socks outside than shoes. This probably bothered my mom because I wore them out so quickly. I like to think of myself as a connoisseur of fine socks. My whole mission, people gave me socks for presents. I think that's the standard gift in Korea, because I got a whole lot of them.

I like to always have nice thick socks that don't have holes in them. Once a sock even hints that it could become a transparent mesh of fine string (you know what I'm talking about, right?) I get rid of it or stuff it in the far reaches of the drawer so that there is no possibility of accidentally donning it in a rush. I like to think that if I keep my socks nice, my shoes won't be as stinky.

So, with this background in mind, as Bill Nye the Science Guy would put it, "Consider the Following":

When a new pair of socks is born, it is a clean slate, fresh, unpolluted, and each sock is fairly symmetric about its center line (the line that runs from heel to the gap between your 2nd and 3rd toe, counting from your big toe). However, after one or two times of wearing the sock, it begins to develop a personality of its own. Some socks get dirtier due to rain, mud, sand, etc. The main way in which they distinguish themselves though is by which side of the sock "relaxes" to accommodate the big toe. A difference between a right foot sock and a left foot sock can be evident after just one wearing. This, of course, is almost entirely dependent on which foot you wear the sock on for the first time. So, in order for me to thoroughly enjoy my socks every day, it is imperative that my right socks be grouped with a left sock when they are folded. I can't stand to wear a left foot sock on my right foot because there is tons of space by my littlest piggie while it should be snuggled in tight to the foot by the sock. It is easy to group rights and lefts on church socks and socks with designs on them, but my wife, Shanna, refuses to go through my plain socks and match them up for me when she does the laundry. She simply dumps them all into my drawer as individual socks, which forces me to fish through the drawer each morning until I can catch me a lefty and a righty.

Somebody out there has to have some sympathy for me, right? Or is this something that labels me "strange"?