Comparing database tables with HL7 messages gives me a headache. Can you imagine that? I mean, how exciting is it to stare at something like this and determine which data goes into which column in which table?

1.0.4|0|3490734.000000^0051192|1^0.000000^0.000000^4142921.000000&108&0.000000|

Anyway, for the sake of my sanity, I decided to take a short break and browse through the myriad of pictures I have on my PC here. I was surprised by how random the collection is and therefore chose to share it with you, my blogging buddies (term borrowed from Kirk without permission).

Abe sports the pink boots. What a good looking nephew.

Changes since this picture: Abe will soon have one more sister who will probably wear pink as well (that makes him right in the middle of two older and two younger sisters).

Picture was taken at Abe's house, which is now Laura and Ryan's house. This means that the house now looks very different as my cousin and her husband have used their mighty home-remodeling skills. I recently saw the changes to the basement and was, of course, in awe. Like I said... they've got skills.

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HI JANE!

Jane went with mom, Tracy, to a doctor's appointment... Tracy is about four weeks away from having a little sister for Jane (and Abe... and Annie and Emma).

As the doctor was doing the ultrasound, Jane listened to the whoosing noises while Tracy tried to point out the baby on the monitor.

Jane's response: "Are we having a fish?"

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Look how young we are... the day Thane went into the MTC.

Now Thane's a real adult: married, preparing for Med School, renting an apartment above the in-laws.

As far as me, I'm just pretending (but, in an attempt to finally get that acceptance from the world of adults, I'm working on buying me a condo... for reals).

Just think, when Thane and I were little, we had a fight over who was the baby in the picture until Mom pointed out that I was wearing a dress.

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Dancing at Alison's wedding...

Yeah, we look soooooo talented. We could give Paula Abdul some dance lessons.

Okay, fine, I can't really dance, but guess what... I'm white and I don't care. Justin, on the other hand, was rocking the dance floor.

He was also slightly sweaty from all his moves.

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I misplaced my camera at Pete and Genny's wedding and therefore, really don't have any of my own pictures from the reception. I finally found the camera at the very end of the night in the couch cushions down by where the guys had changed (and a number of them had hidden away playing video games instead of talking to guests during the reception).

This is one of the pictures that I "found" on my camera after finding the camera itself. Still have no idea who took it, but I love it. Claire and Abe make me want to go and eat an éclair right about now.

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Yes, I know, this thumbnail's rather small, but guess what... you can click on the picture and open it bigger in another window to see Emma and Annie flanking one of the doors of the temple while Mick catches a picture.

I believe this was after Thane and Laina's sealing, but again, my camera seemed to up and leave so I only have pictures from before hand.

The best part of this picture is really the expressions on Emma's and Annie's faces, which you probably can't see in the online, small versions. Sorry... truly, I am.

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This last picture is of my little friend, Minyo.

It's how I feel right now.

Only, I'm slouching in my chair, not stretched out, sleeping on a warm blanket.

In my next life, I'm gonna be a bengal kitten. 

Turns out this last weekend, I gave a talk in church that leans heavily on ideas previously published by my friend and mentor, Louise Plummer. If you have a chance, read it and tell me... are you an ant or a grasshopper?

Last time I watched an American idol episode in which people were voted off, little Ryan Seacrest dramatically announced the next set of losers' names who, according to America's votes, were going home. Some contestants (winners and losers) cried, people had to sing swan songs, the judges made caring remarks, but not one person demanded a recount. If I didn't win whatever Idol season I was on, I would demand a recount; especially if one of the other contestants was from Florida.

Has anybody watched this season yet? I keep meaning to because I want to see the boy from Utah sing before he gets voted off for being too giggly. I keep forgetting to turn on the TV, though. Maybe if I lived in Karen's basement (cuz then I'd never turn it off and only leave the room for bathroom breaks when every channel I'm currently watching airs commercials at once).

If we held political voting via text messages, my parents would be able to successfully submit their votes. Could yours?

Quote of the week, from Dave Barry:

"Next January President McCain will be giving his inaugural address, while somewhere else in America, Clinton and Obama will be holding their 1,387th debate, with the hostility level between them having reached the point where the debate consists entirely of spitting."

My ward is the Island of the misfit Toys and clearly with all of my toe drama, I am the train with square wheels on my caboose--just call me Trainer.

I think I could easily match up the other "famous" toy characters from Rudolph with people in my ward:

King Moonracer - As he is the winged lion responsible for flying around the world each night to find unwanted toys to join their ranks, this would be Agbor (who was basically called into the bishopric to try and boost our dying numbers).

Charlie-in-the-Box - This is Joel; he's our sentry.

Misfit Elephant - It's rough being a polka-dot elephant, but I bet there are some great ties out there if you know how to coordinate therefore, this must be Peter or Dirk.

Misfit Doll - According to an interview done in 2007, this doll was on the island because she was abandoned and therefore suffered from depression; basically, she represents the Hillside Ward Relief Society.

Bird Fish - This poor bird can only swim, not fly and is tossed out of Santa's sleigh at the end of the movie without an umbrella or parachute that the other toys had; I can think of a few people who either Santa might want to toss or might opt not to take an umbrella or parachute thinking they would suddenly become a bird who could fly out of sheer faith: Adam and Morgan perhaps.

Their are a handful of other toys, but now I'm getting tired and will stop. Besides, most of the people who read my blog don't actually have a clue who these people are, so they won't know if I really am being clever or if my attempted matches really work.

Friday night, I went with some of these unwanted toys to the temple. Afterwards, we went to Hires for food and somehow, I was stuck in a corner with one of the Bird Fish across from me. I'm quite sure that he was loving the fact that this was a ward dinner and therefore free as he currently is "looking for ways to make money having fun." What did I want to say in response? "Get a grip on reality and go to college so you can get a real job." Instead, I simply said, "Good luck."

Saturday night I went to a play where the random jokes Braden made were more entertaining than the play; it was too long for my attention, apparently. However, the dessert at the Oyster Bar afterwards was delectable, as always.

Easter Sunday, I spoke in my ward, which meant that I stayed awake the entire sacrament meeting. Afterwards, we had 26 Campbells over and one Emily (cousin's girlfriend whose last name left me). Yes, it was rather chaotic, but the night ended on a big positive when Jane pooped in the toilet (she had been holding it in for three days, poor kid).

And that's all I have to say about that.

Jarv, Jennie and their brood recently concluded their brief stay with Mom and Dad Campbells as part of their transition to bringing their family to the great state of Utah. They planned to live in Mom and Dad Beckstead's condo while waiting for their house to sell in Indiana and going through the process of purchasing a home here, but the condo wasn't furnished when they first arrived. So Jennie and Jarv moved into the tiny bedroom above the piano room (formerly known as the computer room) and the kids moved into the bedroom next to it (formerly known as Maren's room).

The house is far from child proof and Jarv's kids are four and under: Claire is four, Owen's two and Bennett just turned one. Also, the cats are far from child-abused. Koshka (the old Siamese) spent the majority of their stay squishing her fatness between boxes under my bed where little arms couldn't reach her. Minyo was at the vets for part of their stay being declawed and after that was deemed off limits to the little hands for the sake of healing. Salsa wasn't so fortunate. He didn't want to hide disgracefully all day long nor was he healing from any surgeries. As you can see from the pic, he suffered for being lackadaisical in his attempts to get away. By the end of the little Campbells' stay, Salsa had given up entirely and allowed both Claire and Owen to drag him around inside and outside. We were all surprised as he had been the cat who was always hiding back in the days when Nappy was still alive. What a nice kitty he became...

Mighty Mighty Minyo has been hobbling around with me the past week as I had her front paws declawed due to intense urges to claw up the leather couches in the living room.

When the poor little kitty came back from her stay with the vet, her front paws were shaved (as seen, sort of in the picture at left) and she limped around. I was limping around, too. Talk about bonding (or something).

By this time, I was no longer on any pain medication, but Minyo still was. The first time I gave it to her, Mom helped by holding her. The rest of the time, I gave it to her with minimal struggle. Do you think a cat can make the connection between pain relief and the little squirter I stuck into her mouth filled with drugs?

So here is the long anticipated history of the recovering toe. I know, it's odd that I took pictures of the whole process, but it was really all done thinking of you and how much you'd want to see the toe as it healed. Pictures are as follow: 1. busted up and bruised; 2. partially relocated before surgery; 3. sutures a week after surgery; 4. showering with a glove; 5. post-sutures two weeks after surgery. Click to enlarge, especially the post-sutures, it's pretty cool. What do ya think?

Maren and I went to the Cheesecake Factory tonight. How long do you think the wait would be for two on a Thursday night at 8:00 p.m. What's your guess? Winner gets a Mexican Riviera Cruise. What do you think? Who said 50 minutes?

Yeah, that's right... I live in Salt Lake City and waited 50 minutes on a Thursday night for a table for two. Sheesh.

For part of the wait, we investigated the shoe sale at Nordstrom's. This constitutes a number of racks in the shoe section with all of the right shoes on display for those on sale. Now I don't know about you, but depending on the shoe, I can wear either a 9 or 9.5. I know, my feet are huge.

It's very important that I try the shoe on to determine whether I have to buy it in big or bigger. However, when I'm staring at a whole lot of rights, they were all wrong. It's a little bit hard to try on a shoe with a recovering toe. (Similar to a recovering addict because there's that chance that it could slip back into trouble and that would be very bad.)

Eventually, I decided I liked the Pumas pictured here and asked an employee to bring me the other size so that I could try it on. Does anybody else have two feet that are different sizes? I couldn't remember if my right or left foot was slightly bigger. The shoe fit great on my left foot and I bought it. Guess I'll find out how the right fits at a later time.

Other things that are difficult with a recovering toe:

• Drying my left foot before stepping out of the shower
• Showering
• Walking up stairs (I can cruise down them)
• Walking quickly
• Kneeling
• Doing the plank
• Doing bird-dog
• Almost all leg exercises
• Wearing anything besides "the boot"
• Shaving my right leg (when the right foot can't get wet)
• Casually walking down the hall
• Tip toeing
• Ballet
• Rock climbing

And now that we're getting into things that I really don't even attempt at this current stage in my toe's recovery, I shall stop.

Coming soon to this blog: a journey through pictures of my toe's courageous recovery, from bruised and battered to straighter and scarred. (That sounds like a good title for a memoir... I've already copyrighted it so don't even try to steal it.)

Did you hear what Ann Coulter said on Glenn Beck's program about whether she would vote for McCain? I must admit that I was appalled to hear her say that she would vote for Hillary before McCain. Yikes, I thought. But then I wondered what am I supposed to do in November? Do I vote for McCain anyway because I live in a capitalist nation, not a socialist one? Do I vote for the Dem's candidate to try and stick it to the RNC for picking McCain over Romney? Do I write in Romney?

Because of what I heard on Glenn Beck's show last night, I am quite sure now that I couldn't bring myself to vote for Obama or Hillary. Last I checked, I believed in a society where we don't depend on the government to bail us out of everything (unemployment, foreclosures, healthcare costs, etc). Besides... how come the Dems never remind you where the government gets its spending money from? So what was it that Obama and Hillary said, that Glenn highlighted on his show, that cemented my decision against voting for a Democrat? They decried Big Oil--Exxon in particular. Isn't it just absurd? This evil company had $12 billion in earnings last quarter ($41 billion last year). That's just awful that a company should succeed in our capitalistic society. They should definitely be parting with that money. But whose money is it? Who owns Exxon? I do. I bet my brothers do, and my dad, my friends. Look closely at what stocks make up your portfolio for your 401k or IRA. Only 1% of the company is owned by "oil tycoons."

Ben Stein wrote a response to Hillary's and Obama's condemnation of Exxon, published in the New York Times. Amen to every word, Ben. Read his article. Agree with me and agree with Ben.

So when God decides to humble you, he knows exactly what will get it done the fastest. I've been humbled and God used my toe to do it. Last night, I went to the Jazz game with my friend, Katie (who was impressively patient with how long it took me to hobble across the street from her place at the Gateway over to the arena). Watching basketball makes me miss playing basketball.

When I got home after the game, Maren was at the house and told me about their loss in indoor soccer. (Obviously, I'm out for this session.) I can't believe I've got at least six weeks before I can play again.

I forgot how much I depended on exercise for my personal happiness: sleeping a little better at night, for the competition, for the socializing, and for the ability to spend less time worrying about how many calories I ate each day.

Note to friends: don't bust up your toe. Even the insignificant middle toe on your right foot will humble you--efficiently, quickly, and mightily.

Lortab is currently my narcotic pain reliever of choice and I'm choosing not to take it anymore. The side effects just aren't worth the pain killing effects. I'm really curious how this drug can be habit forming? Who in their right mind wants to feel light-headed, a bit confused, like they're running a fever and deal with constipation? Those are some of the fun side effects listed for the drug.

I took one of my last Lortabs Sunday just before Sacrament meeting. I don't know how I stayed awake for the entirety of the testimonies, but at one point, I thought it would be a good idea for me to get up and take a turn. I asked Maren (sitting next to me on the bench and in between me and my way up), whether she thought God would let me faint if I went up. God didn't let me because Maren didn't let me get up. Good thing as I was wondering why it was so hot in the chapel and broke into a sweat. (I was the only one thinking this that I know of.)

Today was my first day back to work and it was pretty poopy. I couldn't sit in any way to get my foot elevated to a decent level so I took short breaks throughout the day to find an empty conference room and lay down with my foot up on the chair for a few minutes. I also found a saint-like coworker who went and bought me a Gatorade at our cafeteria. The thought of walking all the way over there and back made me nauseous. But every day should be a little bit better, hooray! Oh, and no more Lortab.