Jeff's online journal, ramblings, whatever.

Old journal

The end of the old journal

Yoink! 2 ½ years gone! For sporadic coverage of 2002 and 2003, refer to the mission journal. Now, I’m home from Spain, have been to a semester of college, and am currently in the middle of a Very Unemployed Summer™. Virtually everybody I care about has returned from their respective missions, with the return of Billy Grant and Haley Greer two weeks ago. But now is not the time for a summary. This journal’s turning into more of an occasional thought recording of mine than a record of daily events, which is OK, I guess. Now that I’m back my focus has been on two things. The two biggies of everybody’s life: Career and Marriage. Good ol’ C&M. And so far, I haven’t made much headway in either department.

Let’s take the “easier” one first. Right now(well, last winter and this coming fall) I’m attending BYU-Idaho, mainly because of a long story with BYU involving the disease called shingles and deferment problems. Then, next year, I’m planning on going back to BYU to major in Media Music (not straight music composition, like before). But I’m not sure exactly what I’m going to do with such a degree. Write music, well duh. But where? For whom? How? How will I be able to support a family with this? These are questions that hopefully I’ll be able to answer one day, but for now I haven’t the foggiest.

Speaking of not having a clue, that leads us to issue #2: Marriage! You thought I was clueless about my career option, well, I don’t even know where to start on this one. One problem I have is the “change” dilemma. On one hand, I always want to act like myself, because if I act differently just to woo a girl, then when I can’t keep up the charade any longer. . .

(At this point, the journal abruptly ends. The author, presumably, was dragged away from his desk, kicking and screaming, by a pack of rabid wolves. Oh, well. You win some, you lose some. Limbs, in his case.)

(Hello! This parenthetical diversion was written by Jeff far in the future of this entry: January 5, 2007, to be exact. Nearly everything previous to this post, including this post, was originally written in the actual journal I owned while growing up. There have been a few edits to protect the innocent (and fix some punctuation), but for the most part this stuff has been lifted directly from those pages. Enjoy!)


On to the mission!

This’ll be my last entry in here for a while, even by my standards, simply because I’m starting my mission this afternoon. I’ve got a special “mission journal” for this occasion that I’ll write in for two years. By the standards of this book, that could mean anything from 8 to 24 pages total, but hopefully I’ll write in that one more than I’ve written in this one. Lately, that’s simply because ever since my car accident more than two years ago it’s been painful to write for extended periods of time. Hopefully that’ll change as well, and maybe my handwriting will improve *snicker snicker*. In any case, it mattereth not. As for what’s happened in the past four months or so, the answer is: not much. A few fun isolated incidents have happened, such as Ben (& Kj in July) getting home, Josh Reese and I dressing up as the Mario Bros. for Halloween, and both of us making a “Josh Reese Christmas Carol” starring you-know-who as Scrooge and featuring an all-star Hunter High cast (most of them cameos). Four words that I will leave you with for two years: Well, gotta go. Bye.


For 15 more minutes it will be one of the scariest days in U.S. history. A plane hit the North Tower of the World Trade Center in New York City. Soon after, a second plane smashed into the South Tower. A third into the Pentagon in Washington, D.C. A fourth into a field in Pennsylvania, presumably heading for some other national icon. Soon after, both towers of the World Trade Center collapsed, killing thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of innocent civilians. The planes were hijacked by terrorists, possibly from a Muslim group headed by Osama bin Laden. I was sleeping at about 9:30 this morning when the phone rand. I didn’t get up fast enough to get the phone, so I checked the machine. It was Annelise calling from her new house, telling me to turn on the TV because there had been an accident at the WTC. I turned it on and sat there in my robe with my mouth hanging open for half an hour, watching the news unfold. I missed the bus to my institute class, but around 10:00 had the presence of mind to insert a video tape.

This is a time of great uncertainty. What will the death toll be? How can American citizens aid those in Washington and New York? And most importantly, how will the American government find and deal with those responsible? One thing is certain: this nation will never be the same again. All those people. . .those innocent victims. . .well, it’s a sad birthday for Ben, who gets home from his mission on Friday. I donated $100 of my rapidly diminishing funds to the Red Cross. I can’t even listen to my regular Winamp list, listening instead to John Rutter’s Requiem and the infamous Innovators® CD mentioned on Apr. 8, 1994. The biggest tragedy is getting online and reading message board posts from teenagers who don’t care. The first attack by a foreign power on the U.S. mainland since 1812, and They don’t care. Luckily, most of the U.S. isn’t like that, not yet anyway. It’s all like something out of Tom Clancy, or Command & Conquer: Red Alert 2.

Tens of thousands. . .
(note: actual count was around 3,000)

I hope this entry won’t be here when I wake up tomorrow, because then it would’ve been a bad dream.

The Meat Market

I won’t tell you exactly what’s happened this summer, since I’m saving that for July 24 (if I remember). Instead I will tell you about before then, the BYU experience. Last entry was at the beginning of the weirdness, which can be summed up in two words and an abbreviation: guys vs. girls. I’d been warned about how focused BYU dormies were on the opposite sex, but the warnings were not adequate enough to prepare me for the things I witnessed. Some people had a date every night! I haven’t had a date since December! I’ve seen several RM’s with rooms filled with pictures of girls they’ve “scored” with. The whole atmosphere drove me insane, and frankly, I don’t think I’ll ever go back. Suffice it to say that I am NOT recommending that Nate should go down there, like he plans to after his mission. He would go starkers, I’m sure. There’s also other reasons I’m not going back to BYU, but I can’t explain them in the little space left in this entry. I mean, we’re almost out of room. And now we are. Bye!

Quick college update

It’ll be January 18 before I finish this entry, because it is currently 11:59 PM. I’m now living at BYU, Deseret Towers, R-Hall, room 415. This semester I’m taking Music 194, 196, 198, 222, 287, 288, Phscs 167, and Rel A 122. Last semester I took AM Htg 100, Phscs 127, Rel A 121, 327, and Music 188 and 260R. Go look those up if you don’t know what They are. My roommate’s named Brandon, and we have absolutely nothing in common aside from the fact that we both stink at pool. Nate’s gone on his mission to Hungary, but Brett’s back from Thailand. You’d think after all these months I’d have more to say, but I don’t, so bye.

Where do I go from here?

Well, a whole lot has happened since that last entry, but I’m still waiting for fulfillment. “What the foo?!?” you might be saying right now, so let me use an analogy that I alluded to on January 10, 1997.

The comic strip in question starts with Calvin looking at his dad in a chair. Calvin says, “Ka-Zam!” and his dad turns into a one-eyed alien thing. He then proceeds to turn a lot of normal everyday stuff into weird, alien-type stuff until his parents are fed up with his noise and send him to his room. He opens the window and says, “Ka-Zam!” one last time. The last panel is Calvin’s house in a beautiful alien landscape with many moons and a purple, faded atmosphere, like at sunset. The kicker is Calvin’s expression. He looks like he’s sulking, as if even though he’s achieved a kid’s desire, he’s severely disappointed. Well, at least the last panel applies to my recent feelings.

When Travels finally ended last entry, I thought that I had finally accomplished one of my life’s main goals. I had thought that I would be a happy man once I’ve had my music played live by people, something that never happened with SaXon Geat. Intellectually, after it had ended, I was still trying to convince myself that I had been fulfilled, especially after all the work I put in (hence the postscript on last time’s entry). However, in my heart I knew it wasn’t true. Something was missing. Something important. I thought, “Well, maybe it’s because those weren’t really my songs. Nate wrote them, I just orchestrated them. If it was one of my own songs I’d be happy.” So graduation comes along, and, after much hard work and many scandals, I get to conduct the Hunter High School orchestra in playing a song I wrote entitled “Lightning.” Still didn’t help. It should have, but it didn’t. What’s wrong?

That’s why I’m like that last panel. I’ve accomplished almost all of the (realistic) goals I’ve had for as long as I can remember. I’ve had songs of mine played live. I have a computer of my own that I bought Saturday. I’m going to BYU. I even have a fair amount of friends, something I’ve been longing for since before this journal began. Yet, it hasn’t worked. Something big is missing. So now my task is to achieve the thing that will make me happy, with the added challenge of finding out exactly what it is. Sounds like a daunting task? We shall see, I suppose. We shall see. Casey Wayman’s going into the MTC Wednesday.

Golly, I’m pooped. Time to wrap up this rather uninformative journal entry. I guess there’s only one thing left to say, so I gotta say it. Here it comes: Well, gotta go. Bye.


Tonight was the last night of my life. At least, the life that I’ve been leading for the past few months (since January 9, anyway.) I have been orchestrating a musical called Travels about Marco Polo that Nate Winder wrote, and tonight was closing night of the derned thing. This entire time period has been constant ups and downs physically, mentally, and emotionally. I was in the Deseret News as well as being on Channels 2 and 5 (Channel 4 interviewed Nate, but nothing ’bout me). I got all these cards, letters, and gifts, including a real Chinese calendar from China and a picture of the Chinese symbol for love. I’ll try to reproduce it for you here:
Chinese Love
By the way, Katie picked these out. Does this mean Hewpar is still on? Only time will tell. W,GG. Bye!

P.S. It’s been two years since the final performance of Joseph, and this day has been a lot more fulfilling, but in a completely different way.

The Car Accident

I haven’t been able to write with my right hand since November 24, 1999, so my journal entries (and about everything else writing-involved) have left a bit to be desired. So let me begin this first journal entry of the unofficial new millennium (the official not beginning until 2001) by explaining exactly what the foo has been going on these past few months.

First of all, on November 10, 1999, I sprained my ankle. This happened on the day the drama classes went to see a show at Pioneer Memorial Theatre. These days are always unlucky for me physically (last year I was kicked in the groin and my tailbone was bruised on different PMT days). Basically the end result of this was I had to use a cane while performing in Crazy for You, and I paid $60 to spend a weekend at USU with Chris Leigh, during which I took a lot of tests, limped around painfully on crutches, and basically learned that I do not want to go to USU. However, all of this was a relatively minor inconvenience, as the foot was basically healed two weeks later on November 24. That’s when disaster struck.

I was driving home on Airport Road for Thanksgiving weekend. I had been invited to a shindig at Katie Hewitt’s (!) house later that night, so I was happy, listenin’ to the Metroid™ theme on my car tape, when the EVIL CAR of DEATH and DESTRUCTION appeared before my, like a white harbinger of doom. I tried to stop, but it was too late, and CRUNCH! The car stopped, the tape in the player flipped over, airbag dust filled the air, and I had a sharp pain in my right hand. To make a long story short, the car was totaled and my hand was broken. A week later, I underwent surgery (number four for me!) to put stainless steel screws in the bone to be able to heal correctly. A week after that the doctor took the cast off and I finally got a glimpse of what my broken hand looked like, since I hadn’t seen it for two weeks. It was puffy and yellow, for the most part. Anywho, then it was put in a removable splint which I had to wear consistently until today. During December Madrigal performances and Chris™as and New Year’s and everything my hand was stuck in a large black thing with hardly any movement for either pain reasons or the fact that I just could not move it. I still can’t put my pointer finger & my middle finger together, and it’s very painful to write, which is why the handwriting in this entry is sloppy, even by my standards.

Anyway, enough about physical events. Socially, my life has improved greatly, even since October 18. I spend a lot of time with Nate Winder and Carina Jensen (who I’m taking to prom this year, date #4!), mostly because of this musical that Nate is writing, more on that later. Every day I eat lunch at McDonald’s with Andrew Beck and Haley Greer. Sometimes I have outings with Billy Grant, Josh Reese, and Darren Boekweg involving epics such as Super Smash Bros. I’ve had a couple of sleepovers with Billy Grant and Casey Wayman, in which we extend the saga of Pimp Lando (currently we have completed 4 of them and are working on the 5th). This isn’t even including some other friends such as Chris Roy, Corban Smith, and yes, Katie Hewitt. Which, by the way, is as far as it will go with her. Not so much because I’m not good enough for her or “it’s the right thing to do,” which were the motives I had in mind earlier (see July 24, 1998), but because we have not much in common. Doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, though! Bye!


Frankly, the world has gone insane, and it has put me on the so-called “popular” side. Why? I DON’T KNOW! It’s insane! First thing that happens is I get called to serve in the Special Needs mutual, but that’s not too crazy. Next, I’m called as the Seminary Class President. I think, “Why me?” but I’m cool, I think I can handle this. Then Ben leaves on his mission and things get REALLY weird! In fourth grade I was ridiculed. In eighth grade I was tolerated. In tenth grade I was accepted. Now it seems like I’m being admired! Why? I dunno! I’ve had compliments before (mostly involving either music or brain capacity), but now people are complimenting my appearance! Things like: “You’re looking rather dapper today” or “You have the greatest hair (it’s always the hair). . .” I actually have more than one circle of friends! It’s a lot easier to talk to people without feeling self-conscious. I received my first kiss today. (Well, actually, it was a stage kiss, so it doesn’t count.) And what really takes the cake is that I’m great friends with Katie Hewitt! A goal has been achieved! How? I don’t know! Ack!

Start of the Senior Year

Scratch that, I HAVE had a date since Junior Prom. It was with Billy & Casey, and my date turned out to be none other than Haley. It was a fun date, and maybe sometime later I’ll tell you all about it, since I don’t feel like it right now.

Well, this is the second to last time I’m giving you my schedule, so here it is: Odd days: AP Music Theory (Pearce), Social Dance (Strong), AP Physics (Summerhays), Swim 1-2 (Marsing). Even Days: AP English (Heart), Madrigals (Pearce), Seminary (Bro. Toma), Drama 7-8 (Fields). The swim and dance classes are because I still need P.E. credit, so there it is. Next week are the tryouts for the school musical this year: Crazy for You. It’s all Gershwin and tap-dancing, neither of which I am particularly fond of. But that’s OK, because I’ll try as hard as I can anyway to make it a good show. I also rediscovered in the past three weeks a great love that I’ve held since before the first entry in this journal: Chip ‘n’ Dale’s Rescue Rangers. More on that subject later. W,GG.B!

Pioneer Day! Again!

Brief synopsis of summer: Attended Boys’ State, in which I was elected County Assessor and wrote the seven crappiest essays this side of Ulan Bator. Attended Driver’s Ed at West Jordan High School. Finished Pimp Lando and began Pimp Lando 2 on a 3D Movie Maker program on our computer. Ben got his mission call to Independence, Missouri. Took the ACT Test and scored a 33, as well as scoring a five on both my AP Calculus and AP American History tests. Received driver’s license. Dad moved out and is living in an apartment on Redwood Road & 3800 South. Had many outings with Josh Reese, Darren Boekweg, and Billy, mostly involving Mario Karts and Super Smash Bros. Going to Summernary, the summer seminary. Reading Les Miserables for English, Attended Great Uncle Rex’s funeral and a few of Ben’s friends’ Young Women Recognitions. Attending Monday morning tap dance classes at Hunter High to prepare for next year’s musical, Crazy for You. Next week having TWO Madrigal retreats, one at Nate Winder’s house and one at Adrienne Rytting’s cabin. Still think that Katie Hewitt is #1. Still have weeks left! Have fun!

P.S. I still haven’t dated since Junior Prom in February.

Short #4

I’m only writing today to note that the only events in my life since school ended are Boys’ State, Driver’s Ed, a few of Ben’s friends’ Young Women Recognitions, Great Uncle Rex’s funeral, and church. Those aren’t just the major events since school, those are the ONLY events since school! Help! It’s been 3 weeks already, and no job or license or ANYTHING! Ack!

Short #3

Today the Jazz lost their “suckhead” game against Portland (Game 2 semifinals) because in the 3rd 1/4 Malone passed it to nobody in particular and then airballed it.

Short #2

I’m only writing today to note that Star Wars Episode I came out today, and it’s a pretty good movie, except for the fact that Jar Jar Binks’s race lives in snow globes. Also of note: I DID go to Lagoon last Saturday with Billy (see June 14, 1997 for picture) (of Billy, not Lagoon)

Short #1

I’m only writing today to say that the Saturday date idea is off, because Andrew injured himself. I’ll fill the rest of this page at a later date.


Not a lot has happened since last time (it was only nine days ago), but a lot has happened emotionally. To start off, I am going to Senior Ball, kind of. Well, really, I’m just going on a date on the same date (no pun intended) as Senior Ball, but not going to the actual ball; therefore, my date (Haley Greer) is saving mondo money on the $60-$75 dinner & dance (plus dress, etc.) and I save the tuxedo hassle. We’re going to Lagoon (with the New Rocket! Woohoo!) with Andrew Beck and Becky Ashby, a pokey and tickly couple. (Don’t ask; you’ll find out in high school.) Secondly, I no longer feel the way I felt in the previous entry anymore. I sometimes get depressed, and I write some pretty desperate things. But then I realize: it’s life! Deal with it, move on. Things WILL be OK! Let me repeat:

Things WILL be OK!

Don’t be depressed! It just makes you sad and everyone else sadder! Get confident, stupid! And other exciting uplifting slogans. Trust me, it’s worth it all. Well, I must go now. See you.

P.S. Hewpar! Live on!

Second fiddler

Well, Amber Wulle (from Dec. 16, 1992) now despises Hunter High. She wrote an editorial in the Salt Lake Tribune about a week ago about how she thinks schools on the “west side” are inferior academically, so she’s going to Cottonwood High School instead. “Ppppttth,” I say.

You know what? Of course not, you’re a journal. Well, I’ll tell you. I play second fiddle (not literally). In most of my friends’ lives, I am the second best. Every single friend I have, boy or girl, with the possible exception of Nate Winder, has someone that They would rather be with or talk to other than me. I think it’s because I am so protective of things I hold dear. I rarely give out compliments, because I feel that They should mean more to the recipient. If someone tells everyone that they’re great, then soon people think that they’re just saying it to everyone and it loses its meaning. If, on the other hand, someone receives a compliment from a guy who rarely compliments anyone, then They might think, “Wow! If HE thinks I’m great, I must really BE pretty gosh darn good!” Maybe I’m just being stupid, but it’s the way I feel. Well, gotta go. Bye.

P.S. I’m not going to Senior Ball, ’cause nobody asked me! It’s girls’ choice.


Today I just want to reiterate June 14, 1997. Also, if I ever get 1)a solo, or 2)a unique award, I want it listed, just to see if such a thing is possible. List them below. Thanks, dude.

International Jerk Award
Coolest Sound Guy for The Nerd and Deliver Us Not
The Infamous Darwin Bradfield Award
National Successful Procrastinator Award
Renowned Fake Award Giver Award
The “What the Foo!” Award
6th funniest high school student in Utah
Second Fiddler* in Everyone’s Life
-(Note: Later repealed on account of optimism)
Commander dolce e legato
33 on ACT Award
5 on at least two AP tests award
Shortest Fingernail Award
At Least You’re Not Jean Valjean Award
Everyone Likes Your Hair Award
Friends with Katie Hewitt Award
Gimp Award
Best Travels Orchestrator Award
Solo in the Midvale Harvest Days Musical Revue.

P.S. My sister is getting married to Mickey Murphy on Saturday.

*not literally. I don’t know how to play the fiddle.


Tomorrow I am having surgery for an inguinal hernia, but I am prepared. Tonight I have found the true meaning of repentance and the Spirit. It started when I was typing a letter to Anya Young, because she is moving. I wanted to get it done before tomorrow, because tomorrow I will be incapacitated. However, I’m listening to my MIDI files, and it’s keeping Kjersti up. A large fight ensues, and I go to my room feeling horrid. It is then that I decide to pray with all my might, mind, and strength to ask forgiveness. Somehow, I am touched by the Spirit and I know I had been forgiven. So, I climb into bed, when I feel like I need to go apologize right that second to Kjersti. I go upstairs, and she apologizes too. It was good that I went upstairs, because my mom calls Brother Dahl and I get a priesthood blessing for my surgery tomorrow. Now I’m back in bed. I thank God with all my heart that He gave me forgiveness and that I could feel the Spirit tonight. Whatever happens at the hospital tomorrow, I know that I have God’s blessing, and that is all I need. That and Tylenol with Codeine. I’m thankful for this experience & I will treasure it forever. In the Name of Jesus Christ, our Savior and Redeemer, amen.

A horse, a key, and. . .

I finally finished that blasted minefield puzzle on Robot Odyssey! Robot Odyssey’s this dinky computer game I’ve had since at least second grade. That’s been nine years that I’ve been trying to solve this one puzzle. NINE YEARS! That’s over half my life! (I’m sixteen.) Ironically, it was through a loophole. I discovered that you could be inside the robot as it went into the minefield, so you could rewire it yourself. Pretty dumb to have worked nine stinkin’ years on a level, only to have solved it so obviously. Well, now I can start level five. After nine years, I still have a level to look forward to. Just to relive a part of second grade, I’ll draw you a picture:
Robot Odyssey
Well, I gotta go. Bye.