Manliness...

I realize that it has been quite awhile since the last time I posted, so I thought I would update my blog.
Right now I could update you on so many things, since last time I updated was Jamaica. Now, there is no longer even a vestige of my Jamaican tan (burn) and I even stopped finding sand in unknown body parts. There have been so many things I could share right now. I could update you on my social life, new job, my hot dates, or my new room. However at the present time none of these seem as important as my profuse and manly chesthair. First of all, chesthair is the quintessence of manliness, and I have chesthair that achieves a level of manliness than most men ever accomplish through all the acts of manliness throughout their whole lives. It is as thick as rope and as coarse as steel wool. One of the key characteristics of my utterly most-manly hairy chest, is the fact my my hair is thick in the appropriate regions (chest) and its surrounding proximity remains glabrous. It is like all of my hair on my body is playing sardines 0n my chest. Some men have extremely hairy chests, but the manliness is negated by the fact that it is surrounded by hairy shoulders, back, arms, and neck. These people ususally recieve comments such as; "take your sweater off" (when wearing no shirt) and "apparently Tom hasn't quite fully evolved yet" These comments can be degrading and hurtful, and that is why I am grateful to have the manly chest hair without all the peripheral nastiness. I get compliments such as "Your paragon chest hair is the manliest display of manly manhood I have ever come across" That one was from David Hasselhoff who was known for his chest hair and manliness. Oh yeah, and Chuck Norris commented in the NY times that my "exemplary chest hair has been inspiration for chests everywhere" I believe that men should treat their borders of their chest with the same stringency as Bush's new policy on immigration. If you have a problem with hair crossing the borders, then increase forces.

Speaking of hair, have you ever noticed that hair in the appropriate place is a beautiful and wonderful thing. However, when it strays from these locations it is one the most vile and cringe-worthy objects on the planet. For example, those shampoo commercials where women are participating in activities which cause their shiny hair to bounce with grace, give you the perception that hair is flawless. However, on the other hand, there are two forms of location that make the hair repulsive. First, when a hair becomes detached from the body, no matter how beautiful it was, becomes disgusting. The other form of nasty hair is the location on the body. Some places like the back, and other concentrations of hair on moles are particularly loathesome and wouldn't be voluntarily touched, even with a ten-foot pole. There is also the subcategory of body placement that is gender specific. (e.g. face) Then there are certain situations where there is an exponential increase of the level of nastiness due to the fact that it has been detached from the body and came from a place, such as a mole, chick's face, or back.

Well I better go, the ladies aren't gonna flirt with themselves!

Jamaica anyone?

Everyday I wake up and look out my window with hopes that my view of the brick wall will somehow undergo a major metamorphosis and a resplendent view of majestic jagged edges against a pure blue sky will great me with, "Good morning, Roon" As I stand there facing reality, despondency usually escorts me back to bed and I lie there trying to transform the cacophony of sirens, horns, and expletives into the soothing sounds of birds thanking the sun for its warmth and grace.
One particular day in March I contemplated the meaning of the words "Spring Break" and shortly thereafter regretted the fact that I was to remain in the confines of the concrete jungle during this particular respite. At that moment, I resolutely checked the prices of all airline tickets heading to Utah. Unfortunately, the cheapest ticket I found would have cost me more than buying an airplane and hiring a pilot to fly me there. (consider my propensity to exaggerate in order to make my points more convincing and/or salient) I was not about to let despondency get the best of me, so I considered locations of more tropical climates. Jamaica, of course, was the destination of choice, and just like that I was digging my toes into the delicate white sand and listening to the refreshings sounds of Jamaican water lapping gently onto the welcoming beach covered with palm trees and sunbathers.
The much needed vacation consisted of hanging out on the beach, eating delicious seafood, snorkeling, sailing, hiking, frisbee, sight seeing, dancing. We were able to do all these things while listening to the reggae beats of Bob Marley (after all, it is his homeland).

Mohawks Rule!

Well if you thought mustaches were cool, I know you will think mohawks are cool. People ask me "Why did you shave your bad self a mohawk?" I reply, "Why not?" No one has an answer because there is no reason not to. Life is too short not to sport a mohawk.

Got Mustache?

This picture is of my bad self. I was trying for the Harley look. I ate everything in sight for two weeks trying to get a gut like the Harley dude above, but all I got was a stomach ache, a pizza bill, and an angioplasty. Oh well, we both still have six packs, his of course is in the sadlebag.

You may be asking, "Why is Cameron doing the Harley look?" For pure entertainment, I have provided answers in a multiple choice fashion. Let's see how good you are. Choose one and post your answer. Good luck and have fun.

A) Mustaches are cool
B) Motorcycles are cool
C) Cameron is cool
D) Cameron is strong
E) Cameron has chest hair
F) Cameron did it for a class presentation and ended up getting offered a job at Morgan Stanley as a result.
G) All of the above (especially C, D, & E)

Life away from Mommy

My move to NY was my first official, on-my-own, out-of-the-nest, living experience. Now that I am on my own, activities such as, eating cookies before dinner, staying out later than my bedtime, and burping during dinner are commonplace. I realized that these activities were not nearly as sweet as they were anticipated to be, but the defiance and outright rebellion to previous rules was refreshing and liberating. I felt like Kevin McCalister in Home Alone when his parents left him behind.

Of course life alone isn't all "velvet pajamas," I quickly encountered the dilemma of obtaining food. It was quite a different experience then walking up to the pantry and deciding which food was to suit my liking and cravings the best. Before if there was a food absent from the pantry or refrigerator I would simply tell my Mother and magically it would appear in the next few days. Now I have to go to the grocery store, pick out what I can afford and what can go in the microwave, make a purchase, and carry it home. I then have to cook it. So my first semester I ate Easymac, cereal, and an occasional microwaveable meal, which was as good as rubber with artificial cardboard flavoring.

I spent a month at home for christmas. There I partook of such goodness as, ham, salmon, tilapia, steak, potatoes (quite an exemplary vegetable), name brand cereals, and Cafe Rio. Upon my return I realized that my microwave habits were to be eliminated, for I am destined to learn how to cook. I realize that it isn't easy cooking for one person, but neither is downing microwavable macaroni and cheese three times a day. Yes, I have started. So far I have cooked a special egg dish (scrambled eggs), a special Italian dish (spaghetti with store-bought sauce) and pasta-roni (which I call pasta-roony) I did all that in a week! I know, I know, don't you worry, I have found time to study. My new mission is to raise my education one degree and raise my oven a couple hundred degrees... Anyways before I start dropping anymore lame puns which I will later regret, I better go...besides I have some stuffed peppers and a crown roast in the oven that need my attention!

P.S. thank you Natalie for the cookbook.

Thanksgiving

Well, now that Christmas is here, I thought I would tell you about Thanksgiving. I took the china town bus, which was less than refreshing, to Washington D.C and had dinner with Shane and Dixie Lewis, and Matt and Jill Lewis, and of course all of their offspring. This was actually the first time I have associated with children since I have been in New York. The Lewis families were so kind, they let me eat at the adult table. I was worried that they would make me sit with the children but I acted very maturely when I arrived, and worked out berorehand to look big, to increase my chances of sitting at the adult table. Apparently it worked. Dinner was delicious, and I decided that I love anything smothered in gravy. I honestly think if you let a brick soak in gravy, I would partake, just to experience the goodness of gravy.

After dinner and the following day we went sight seeing in D.C. We went to the F.D.R. memorial, Jefferson Memorial, Air and Space Museum, National Museum of American History, Iwo Jima, World War II memorial, George Washington monument, the National Archives, and any other places I forgot. It was bitter cold, but we had a wonderful time!

Oh yeah, and if you are wondering what that shirt is that Matt and I are standing in front of...it is the puffy shirt from Seinfeld!

Pictures of NYC

I am in the middle of finals and I am busier than ever! However, I just felt bad because that gallon of milk has been monopolizing my best "blog" space for too long. Anyway, I thought I would update you with some of pictures of NY that I took in the past month.

Life in College...

Gallon of milk...

$2.99... Box of cereal...

$5.99...

Tuiton for a semester of school...

$15,000...

Required books for the semester...

$900...

Surviving college...

Priceless.

In college there are some things money cannot buy,

For everything else, there are student loans...hopefully.

Hopefully? Why hopefully? Because I am hoping to get a college loan so I can survive. See "Surviving college" has two meanings:

1. Surviving the semester with all of the studying, tests, and homework
2. Surviving, literally. On a college budget, it feels that we may waste away because lack of food and sleep.

I am struggling to do both! You may be asking why the Roon Child isn't getting enough to eat. The answer is simple, and congruent with the introductory piece. No college loan. Yes, I was approved for my loan over three months ago, which seemed at the time to be the hard part. It was most definitely not however. Getting the money is the hard part. The approval happened in less than a week. After that it has been nothing but a litany of phone calls (on my part) and a litany of excuses (on their part) I am down to $3.87 and I live in NYC. You do the math.

If you look at the date when this was posted, you might notice that it is Saturday night. You might now be wondering why I am updating my blog on a Saturday night. I will repeat. I have $3.87 to last me until...I get my loan...which could be in a week, or maybe the day BYU has a decent football team. (in other words, it may never happen) So, to say it explicitly, I am home because all my friends are out doing things that cost more than $3.87. I decided to stay home, find crumbs that I may have carelessly dropped at a previous time, and update my blog. To describe the feeling of this night I thought I would quote Melissa..."Wha-hoo!"

The Kayaking Experience

Kayaking in the Hudson River anyone? It has been quite the transition from Utah where snowboarding, wakeboarding, skiing, hiking, mountain biking, soccer, and many other outdoor sports, are commonplace, to Manhattan where skyscrapers are everywhere you look. The difficulty of this transition was alleviated by an opportunity I had to go kayaking in the Hudson River. My excitement was soon abated when the kayaking guy brought out this huge orange section of foam and placed it around my neck. I felt like I was sticking my head out of a mattress. Or even better yet, I felt as though someone was taking a picture of a large painting with a hole for people to stick their head through to complete the picture. The reason I say that is because these paintings allow you to stick your head out but you really don’t know what is going on and everyone is just laughing at how funny you look.

Of course when I was actually on the kayak, I soon forgot how funny I looked in the “personal floatation device” and concentrated on how stupid we looked, rowing in circles. If you notice in the picture above we are not exactly rowing in syncopation. We decided to further humiliate ourselves by racing one of the other kayaks. It was “neck n’ neck” until we started the race. By this, I don’t mean one kayak blew the other one away, quite the contrary. I would like to compare the race to chickens running around with their heads cut off. I have never seen this phenomenon, but I am sure it doesn’t resemble organization in any form. I bet if we didn’t have the expression about the chickens we could use the comparative phrase, “we look like first time kayakers trying to race in the Hudson River.” It might not be as catchy, but I am sure the image is still created.

After being in a state of confusion and disorientation and realizing that the path we should have taken was a straight and narrow one, I realized that I had a great “story” for a singles ward testimony. I could share a 20 minute story of the kayaks and then in the last thirty seconds I could relate it to having direction in our life. Of course it might not be as compelling as the favorite hiking anecdote, but I could give it a try.

After a while we decided to explore a new region but as we tried to get there, our kayak seemed to want to go back to the dock. I looked up and saw people watching us, so I decided we should look like we did the move on purpose, and head back to the dock. After getting out of the kayak and orange foam, I became relieved because I didn’t have to be humiliated anymore. At that moment I realized I had been sitting in water the whole time and the back of my cargos were dripping. I then swallowed my pride and just walked home like a penguin (literal) and with my tail between my legs (figurative).

Columbia University

I have been asked to update my "blog" (A word which I hold in the same esteem as "fluff" and "toot") and so I decided to write about the reason for which I came to New York. Now I know many of you may be thinking, "He already wrote about Seinfeld" or "He mentioned the singles ward...twice" Just to clarify these misapprehensions, I did come to the New York to further my education. Which has been greatly needed after a 9 month state of mental atrophy (which the length of this period could definitely be argued).
Between visits to "The Restaurant" and the singles ward I have found time to attend class and study the material. In fact graduate school has actually been quite enjoyable. I love my classes and my professors. The campus is amazing as well. The pictures above are libraries. Did you know the Ghostbusters' library scene was filmed there? In fact I found myself one day wearing my snowboarding backpack with the drinking water-tube extended from my arm-strap and pointing toward danger secured in my left hand. For those few minutes I was indeed a Ghostbuster. You have to realize with a rigorous studying schedule, you have to do things like that in order to maintain sanity. (I also realize one could argue that this type of activity is a direct result of insanity)
However, school is much more than just studying at the library and putting the ear-hook of your glasses in the corner of your mouth in order to appear intellectual. I have found many opportunities to meet new people and go out in NYC and have a good time. Of course, having people over to my apartment is difficult because it is about the size of a pack of gum. Really! My apartment is tiny. I only buy one box of cereal at the grocery store because if I bought two I would have to rearrange my furniture to fit the second one in. This is the first time in my life where the expressions "Welcome to my humble abode," and "Two is company three is a crowd" have actually been used and meant literally. But these types of situations are what college life is all about! Right?

Singles Ward 2

I have heard from several people that they enjoyed my piece on the Singles Ward. So I thought I would do what Hollywood does, and that is if something is successful you simply make a sequel, but I won't take it as far as reality TV shows or Land Before Time.
I was thinking about Singles Ward and the way they just totalize who you are and announce to the whole world that you have no one. Especially when you consider the purpose of the church as an organization is to have eternal progress, which requires you to be married. If you are not married you cannot progress. You cannot become what you were set out to do. That is pretty heavy, and they just brand that on you without shame. Along the same lines, why don't they have a drunken ward, or an adulterers ward, or how about the prideful ward (which attendence would probably be quite low, because most people would be too prideful to attend.) That way you can meet other people with the same problems and together maybe you could resolve your issues and join the perfect family ward. That is what people in the singles ward do!
It is actually quite comical. Every month during testimony meeting in a singles ward, some girl gets up and announces to everyone crying her eyes out that this is her last week in the singles ward because she is getting married. Every girl in the congregation is thinking, "I hate her and am completely jealous of her graduation," and every guy is thinking, "I hope my wife is not that emotional."
You don't believe me? Come to a singles ward on the first Sunday of the month. I would love to hear you agree with me, because I am a very prideful single adult. In fact, if they did have a prideful ward I wouldn't know which ward to attend, the singles ward or the prideful ward. I guess I can't get anymore single, but I could become more prideful. Yep, I am in the right place.

Manhattan 8th Singles Ward

Well after attending our home ward for over a year I have been accustomed to the way things run in a home ward. Going back to the singles ward brings back many memories. It is the one place in NYC that I can feel like I am in Utah again. I am now convinced that no matter your location on the globe, singles wards do not change one iota. During my time in NY I hadn't met anyone from Utah, until I went to the singles ward. I went to the singles ward, and everybody is from Utah, or had attended BYU. So naturally I felt at home. The singles ward is like I am at the Utah embassy of NYC.
The ward meets at the Manhattan Temple which was just dedicated last year. I had never been to this temple until my first day at the singles ward. I looked up the address and found my way there. I finally got to the address and still did not see it. I was expecting a temple with gates, fountains, grass, and a location apart from everything else. As you can see in the picture, it kind of blends right in with the rest of the city. (Also I came from the other side, which you can see would be more difficult to find) It wasn't until I was reading, "The Church of Jesus Christ of Lat..." hey that is our church!!! I looked up and sure enough there was angel Moroni holding that wonderful trumpet, and just like that I was back in Utah. As you know from my last posting, tourist always have there heads looking upward, joined with an opened mouth. This was the exact state I was in when I heard, "Is this your first day in the singles ward?" Sure enough, as we got to talking, she was from Utah. In fact she was even in our stake. She introduced me to a few others walking in, and one of the brothers asked me if I was planning on being in the ward permanantly. I thought the question quite interesting, you know, because it is a singles ward. My initial reaction was to pull out the fourth discussion and explain the plan of salvation, however I didn't have the discussion there at my convenience, so I just highlighted the important parts.
During the time at the singes ward, many people want to play the "hey do you know...game." Naturally, being LDS and from Utah, you can play that at any ward and be successful. I am not a big fan of the game because once you establish that you know the same person, one often wonders what are you supposed to do with that information. "Sweet, we both know Jack, let's hang out!" And when one connection is made, it seems like the other person wants to make 100 more. "Well if you know Jack then you must know Jill, you know the girl with whom he walked up the hill to fetch a pail of water" then you can chat about someone else's life. If no connection is made, one feels as though he/or she has to make some connection to justify his/her attempts. Which doesn't really matter because eventually, you have to end up back at just talking about yourselves anyway. I have to admit, it has been better than playing the game with people outside the singles ward. When people have no connection with Utah, the "hey do you know... game" gets really desperate.
"You are from Utah, oh do you know Jason Smith?"
"No, is he from Utah?"
"No, he is from Ohio, but I thought because both states start with a vowell and have four letters you might know him."

So I have to say, at least we make the connection in our Utah embassy in NYC.

New York City

New York. My Graceland. Home of Jerry Seinfeld. I don't think it was by happenstance that I ended up only a few blocks away from Seinfeld's favorite coffee shop. I pass it almost every day. Some things were just meant to be.
Truly New York has been quite an adventure. I am learning all the subway routes and my way around town. Trying to find the New York groove. I think I have finally figured out when to cross the street. I don't mean to brag or anything, but once or twice I was the first one to cross the street. The first few days I would just follow the crowd and try to act normal. You can always pick out tourists (it is easier than spotting a bad toupee) the tourists are always looking up and their heads are on swivels. This constant and upward motion of the head is usually accompanied with an opened mouth and look of bewilderment. I am not saying I don't do this now, quite the contrary. The reason I know this is because I usually bump into people doing this same thing I do. Every once in a while I will catch myself doing it and try to be cool and walk it off. See the New Yorkers have a determined walk as they adroitly dodge cars, beggars, and tourists. I am sure they offer courses such as, "Walking in NYC" in high schools. I could see those courses being quite beneficial. Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Jerry Seinfeld sends his regards to everyone.

St. George

Well, having a yellow personality, I decided that Lake Powell was not enough. So the the weekend after Lake Powell and three days before my departure date for NY, Verno and I went to St. George. Verno has been attempting a long term relationship with a girl who lives down there and her best friend who happens to be a gorgeous brunette with dark skin and blue eyes. So naturally I accepted the invitation, but St. George has some great golfing!

So we went golfing at Coral Canyon which is an awesome course however, it was nasty hot . We also hung out with the femininas, which was less than refreshing. Ashley, (Verno's girl was awesome) but her friend, Laticia, wasn't exactly my cup of tea. One would think with all my dating experience I would not accede to going on blind dates, let alone blind vacations. Don't get me wrong, she was beautiful, but it wasn't exactly a blind date. I had seen pictures of her, which were used by Ashley to coax me to go to St. George. It was however, a deaf date. I had not talked to her prior to the vacation. That was my mistake. This experience reaffirmed my belief that light traveles faster than sound. Because she appeared bright, until I heard her speak. I will leave it at that. I don't mean to stick a feather in my hat, but there are certain times where it is important to be a wingman for a friend, I was the best wingman a friend could ask for. You're welcome Verno. I didn't take any pictures of this weekend due to innocent forgetfullness and planned forgetfullness, but we did find one I would like to share. This one took place on the way home.

Lake Powell

I couldn't head off to NY without making a stop by Lake Powell. The Zobrists invited Verno and me to go with them. We stayed on their houseboat and enjoyed meals such as ribs, steak, burritos, chicken, and more. We enjoyed activities such as golfing, (We brought clubs, tees, and 300 golf balls and hit them out into the lake, as well as made a little course,) wakeboarding, diving, games, swimming, horseshoes, and stargazing. What a wonderful way to remember Utah.

wite trash bbq

Wite Trash BBBQ: Ware teath r considerd bling, datin' relativs is normal, toilit paper has page numbers, frases such as "tell yer what, this here shepe, an' that ther beer" r welcum, and words such as, please, thanx, and parden, ain't unurstood.
This wuz da forth auyual trasher. Evry yeer da owtfits git betr and betr and ya can't ware da same things twice. I am da won wit da bad nascar shert an' da ovursized mullet. If yer wondrin' how my sideberns an' huge fu man chu got black i got three werds fur ya. Just for Men.
We had pluny a brawts, babes, beers(fake), beef, baseball, an bad breth. Da nite cunsisted of da atshual bbq, then we playd baseball an i wun, then had a beer(fake) chug an i lost, then we did a slipperie slide, and chanel 2 wus thur recordin' it awl.

Clothes!!!

"What in the world is that?!" You are probably asking. Well, it is a giant pile of clothing. You may now be thinking that it is dirty clothes pile to be washed or maybe even an extremely messy room. Allow me to disabuse you of that erroneous thinking. This is a pile of clothes that were cut from my team. Yes, I have decided to make a team of clothes for me to wear that can assist me in providing the confidence, to face any social situation. I had decided to hold try-outs, and this is the pile of clothes that did not make the first cut. I would also like to congratulate all those who made the first cut.
You may be pondering why so many clothes or why is this pile so incredibly huge. To assist you in your pensive state, I would like to provide you with several options for you to choose from.

A) Roon is like a girl, in the fact that he has so many clothes.

B) Roon has achieved philanthropist status, and often performs many philanthropic deeds such as, feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, providing shelter for the homeless, giving money to the poor, and giving jewels to the non-bling-bling.

C) Roon is a packrat

D) This is merely an illusion. Roon either altered the photograph or the pile in such a way that it appears to be a massive heap.

I realize that you are now curious to find out the real reason. The reason I say you are now curious, is not because I think you are so involved in my life that you really want to get to the bottom of this, but becuase you want the satisfaction of knowing that you are right. Right?
Well, not only will I tell you the answer, I will also tell you about the psychology behind your choice.

A) If you chose A, not only are you entirely wrong, you are also mentally retarded and should seek serious professional help. And I am not talking about the psychiatrist for 80 bucks a week. You need a team at a University level who can work around the clock, spending every minute of their day running test and doing all those intense things that they do.

B) If you chose B you are correct, you should be commended on your choice. You are blessed with wisdom, sagacity, and keen intellect.

C) Although plausible, this answer is incorrect. Not only do I pack very little and rarely pack (and if I do it is in a shoebox or something) I am not a rat. Nor am I close to any rodent that is even a rat relative. Nor do I share any qualities with any rodent or rat. Except for the R.O.U.S.es (Rodents Of Unusual Size) and the only thing that I have in common with them are my M.O.U.S. (Muscles Of Unusual Size) and the only thing in which they are similar is simply is their gargantuan size.

D) The reason this answer is fallacious and completely unreasonable is because this answer would imply that I am a dishonest man. We all know that I would never tell a lie. For we learn from the good book in Mathew 15:11, "not that which goeth into the mouth defileth a man; but that which cometh out of the mouth, this defileth a man." I will not defileth myself nor lie. We also learn in 2 Nephi 9:34 that the liar will be thrust down to hell. This doesn't sound like the philanthropist and gentleman you know does it?

Drives to and from Iderho

Driving five hours by yourself is an interesting experience. Several times I found myself singing on the top of my lungs and dancing from my shoulders up. After getting tired of listening to my off tune voice and realizing that people can still see me dancing when I drive by, I resorted to the books on CD. The urge to sing and dance was immediately eradicated. Instead I found myself yawning profusely and slapping myself to stay awake. Cruise control did not help me stay awake any. However, cruise control was always terminated when I applied my brakes, because truckers continuously tried to pass other truckers at the exact moment I was about to fly pass them at my consistent 84 mph setting. The truck in the right lane (slow lane) was going about 60mph, and the truck passing them was going about 61 mph. The mathmatic imbalance of the equation was that the speed that the trucks were passing was slower than my accelerating impatience. I am not going to explain what this mathmatical equation equalled, but fair enough to say I used up a lot of gas applying all horse power, and all torque available to show how I felt and also return to my pleasant 84 mph cruise control setting. My frustration was only exacerbated when these incompetant truckers decided to pass another on a hill. I really thought I was going to make it to Boise or even Alaska before the so-called mexican road block was extinct. I wonder if these truckers know what the fast lane is used for. I truly hope they do. You see, the beauty in this name is that it explains its purpose. It is like a hair dryer. No one ever uses a hair dryer to wash the dishes, that is what a dishwasher is for. It would be absurd. So why then, may I ask, do people go slow in the fast lane? Are these people trying to dry their hair in a dishwasher or washing their dishes with a hair dryer. Spending five hours by myself driving a car can result in this type of thinking.

Pictures of Iderho Trip

Trip ta Iderho

Well, I just got back from a vacation in Iderho. This was different then most of...well, all of my vacations in the past. This vacation did not consist of surfing, wakeboarding, motorcycling, amusement parks, etc. like my vacations have in the past. Instead my vacation consisted of picnics, train ride, (comparable to the Heber Creeper with an overexcited, overcheesy, and overweight conductor) story time, and babysitting. At first glance this may not seem like the type of list that would appeal to a 25 year-old bachelor whose dream is to go base jumping with his snowboard, however, it was one of the best vacations I have ever had. I loved having little Easton follow me everywhere (literally) and spending time with the Edwards. I haven't had that much attention since the time I won Mr. Universe or immediately after my Emmy Award acceptance speech. Nonetheless, we had a great time!!!