Karma

You've heard it said before. What goes around comes around. Personally, I never believed this statement...until last night. Keep in mind as you read this post that I'm not trying to brag about the kind and valiant things I've done. I mean, I'm just a really good person, and it's in my nature to be nice to everyone! If you don't believe me, just become my friend, and you'll be surprised at how much cool stuff I'll buy you. I take that back. I'm on a budget now, so I won't be buying you anything. In fact, I think it's YOU that should be buying stuff for ME!

Now that that's settled, it's time I move on to the next portion of the post, called the next portion of the post. I went out to Salt Lake City a couple of weeks ago for a [undisclosed event]. I was told that [undisclosed criticism] and [more undisclosed criticism] and that I just wouldn't work out for them. Feeling kind of discouraged, I went back to the airport to get the rental car (a Toyota Yaris!) and made my way out to Shane-and-Alese's. Some events cheered me up over the next couple of days:

• Endless Starcraft 2 gaming with Shane
• Eating at my favorite Mexican restaurant with some of my favorite people on this Earth
• Being challenged to eat the hottest hot pepper I've ever eaten at said restaurant by one of said people and spent the next 10-15 minutes with the hiccups, sweat pouring down my face, and I believe I my face had turned red (either from the hot pepper or embarrassment)
• Being challenged by the same person to practice not accepting challenges (i.e. Mountain Dew Challenge, Hot Pepper Challenge) (it was probably good that I accepted this last challenge because this past week at work I was challenged to drink an entire bottle of Shotgun Pete's XXX HOT BBQ Sauce. There's a warning on the label that says "Warning! Avoid contact with eyes or other sensitive areas at all costs!" One of those sensitive areas must be your mouth, because one tiny drop that you taste-test by barely skimming the top-most surface with your finger and licking it off burns hotter than the sun at midday, or any other time of the day since the sun burns the same temperature then too. I don't think the $20 I was offered to complete the challenge was worth death.)

Eating the hottest hot pepper. I don't remember that wall

being purple. Probably because everything looked red

after consuming the hottest hot pepper.

Fat-face after the pepper (end still in hand).

Still trying to "play it cool" 2 minutes after the pepper.

This angle makes my face look weird (it's not the angle, dummy!).

• Laser-engraving things and showing them off (in particular, the watch...picture to follow) to everyone I met

Just in case you forget what it is.

Advertisement for Water-Resist Shane.

Represents me very well: Zelda, anime, video games, Apple,

sword-fighting, shield-wielding, coolest person on Earth, you name it!

• Hanging out with Shane-and-Alese AND Robbie-and-Ali two nights in a row (!)
• Starcraft 2 with Shane
• Breakfast

Basically, it was my favorite. The whole trip. Except for the [undisclosed criticisms] that [undisclosed person] gave me. And the coming back to reality part.

As I sat there at the airport, I glanced around at the countless souls, with banners and balloons and well-wishings and tears and laughter and signs that read "Come Back Soon!" and "Best of Luck!" My heart swelled and my soul warmed at all the people who came to see me off. Tears. As the plane took off, I noticed the mountains smiling at me from below and clouds that can change their appearance at will transformed into shapes that looked like a group of close friends sitting around playing Starcraft 2, laughing, smiling, yelling encouraging sayings at their allies. The closer the plane got to Missouri, the more grim and dull the scenery. Crops normally shaped as squares or circles suddenly appeared as hands with one finger extended, clearly telling me I'm unwanted. The crowd at the airport stared daggers as I stepped off the gum-wrapper plane, all dressed in black with fangs and long, pointy fingernails. As one of them advanced, I ran for it, barely catching a taxi who became the only person I could trust for the next 3-6 minutes, as we ventured back to the economy lot to find my car, untouched, unscathed by the harsh weather conditions and bad attitude of this place.

And suddenly I realized that this post wasn't supposed to be about my adventures in Salt Lake City or my slightly strange trip home based very loosely on true events. Nay, it was about the chain of events that I will tell now, and your sympathy is appreciated in the comments section.

I decided yesterday, since good things happened at work this week, that I would take donuts in to celebrate. That's nice, right? And I've been dying to try out this new donut shop that just opened up next to my apartment. I walk in, feeling quite cool and studly in my nerdy shirt and tie (my normal dress-down-Friday apparel), after I remotely honk the horn of my car, signifying locked doors and the armed-function set to on. As it normally happens when I walk into an eatery, or as it normally happens in my retellings of the events, I was greeted with smiles and discount codes and a large selection of beautiful donuts. I got 24, including 4 Crème-bavaroise-filled ones and 2 apple fritters the size of your face.

Chants of hip-hip-hurray and for he's a jolly-good fellow were exclaimed from the rooftops as everyone's hero walked through the doors of his office carrying a box filled with [undisclosed variety of donuts]. I then proceeded to get all of my work done with time to spare and waste on the practicing of pen-spinning tricks.

After work, I took the missionaries out for dinner at Shakespeare's Pizza Eatery Place, one of my favorites here in Columbia for two reasons: 1) good ambiance, and 2) you get to keep (!) your cup. I headed back to my place afterwards to get the cursed donuts-that-remained that I'd forgotten to take to the missionaries, and took them instead to @kremlincardinal-and-@spousalunit's for 8:30 showing of The Crazies. I stepped out of my car, grabbed the box of donuts, laid my precious iPhone on top of the box, shut the door, went to lock the car, and I hear a slight whimper. "Oh no!" it cries out in fear. SMASH! My phone had just fallen to the Earth, the unforgiving cement from whence no fallen iPhone may return. I can still use it. Ish. Through a ziplock bag, unless I want to cut my fingers or my face.

Moral: If you do something nice, like buy donuts for people, you will break your most precious possession. And with that, friends, I wash my hands of this weirdness.