He was my best friend

Louis William Ostler September 18 2000-November 11 2010

I struggle to write this as every time I do, my eyes well up and my chest wants to explode. But I'll do my best to convey what an amazing dog he was.

I always thought (and kinda hoped) that if Louie ever did die, he would die while I was on my mission. Somehow I thought that would make it easier. Now I'm at college and I can attest to the fact it only makes it harder not being there to say goodbye.

My family got Louie when I was only 8 years old. I've written numerous personal narratives about that night so I suppose I'll write one more. 

It was mid December and we were playing board games like any good cheesy Mormon family. I remember my sister Sarah explaining the next game and how much I didn't want to play anymore. The doorbell rang and my Sarah said 'Why don't you get it Dave?' At the time I was confused and mad that I had to get it. I was 8 years old for Pete's sake and I never normally answered the door. But alas, I got up and opened the door only to see a box on the porch. I didn't know at the time that it wasn't just a box, but rather a doggie crate. I looked inside and saw a snowy white puppy curiously looking back at me. I started yelling back to my family: 'GUYS! THERE'S A DOG OUT HERE!' Past recollections tell me that all my siblings thought (and I suppose still do for other reasons) I was retarded. As I brought in the crate, my family came out into the landing. We shut the door and opened the crate and let the dog come out and go crazy. Laura and Becca were crying because they had always wanted a dog and I was running outside to shout my thanks to Santa (there had a been a note on the top saying it was an early Christmas present). We played with it and thought of names and knew that this dog would be a fabulous dog.

The next day, I taught the dog how climb up the stairs. Being only a few months old, I noticed it perplexed by these 'stairs' I showed him how to climb up them one by one till finally we made it to the top. As we laid on my parents' bed, I asked my father what we should name him. I wanted Curly since I lacked creativity and his hair was in fact curly at the time. I don't remember other names besides Laura wanting 'Tito'. My dad then suggested 'How about Louie?' And after that, it stuck.

I could literally write a book about all the hilarious things Louie would do, but I will only share a few. 

The most prominent of memories are of his infamous Bichon Buzzes. His breed is Bichon Frise (French, King Louis, his name yadda yadda yadda little details I couldn't splice in) and every once in a while when he'd get all wired up, he'd go on a running spree, often making circuits between couches, chairs, and other living room fixtures. He'd run at top speed for a minute or two until he pooped out, lapped up some water and late his underbelly on any cold surface (usually the granite by the fireplace) to cool off.

He also had an insatiable thirst to cuddle and surround himself with things. Anytime you were on your bed, a couch or a chair that could barely fit yourself, he'd jump right up with you and protect you from anything so you could sleep, read, or watch tv in peace. And if you weren't sitting down, but there were blankets or pillows on such surfaces, he'd hop up and envelop himself in them to be as cozy as possible.

Finally, I want to note his smile and good nature. In all my years with him, he never barked maliciously or bit even the smallest child. He'd play and pretend he was fierce but deep down he was a wuss just like his owner. And whenever we'd be prancing down the sidewalk, he'd look up at me, wind in his glorious 'fro, and have the happiest smile on his face. I'd chuckle and call him a dork. We were both dorks. That's why we were so great together.

After Becca left for college, I was left alone with my parents until I, myself, went to college. I thought it'd be miserable, but Louie kept me company. Most prominently, I remember nearly two years ago, I had a terrible ear infection. I couldn't sleep so I took some Tylenol and watched TV in the early hours of the morning. Louie came in from my room, looked up at me and jumped up on the couch and cuddled with me as I watched TV and eventually fell asleep. Louie was always there for me when I was sick, depressed, or just needed a laugh. All he had to do was lay there with me.

Louie was an amazing dog to say the least. There are not enough positive adjectives in the world to describe that fine dog. He was my best friend for 10 years. I haven't cried this much for God knows how long. But I promised myself a long time ago I would never let anything dwell too long inside of me. He was a damn good dog and I hope my kids will have a dog half as great as Louie was to me.

I'll miss you buddy, enjoy the endless buffet of mashed potatoes, scrambled eggs, popcorn and used tissues. I know you'll love it up there. You were, hands down, the best.

Biking, Insensitivity, and Snow

This weekend was surprisingly the funnest weekend I've had up here. Friday, I joined up with my buddy Andrew and a friend he met at BYU summer semester named Kyle. For those of you that know Craig Perry, Kyle is Craig... I saw him on campus once and thought it was in fact Craig.
Anyway, we met up with some women and went to a local burger joint-Sammy's. They specialize in burgers fries and shakes. They are quite delicious. We all got shakes and walked around town just lolling around. The night was uneventful for the most part, just good socializing.
Saturday morning though, I woke up early and headed out for a bike ride with my friend Spencer. My bike is a single speed and made of steel, and his is from the 80s and is louder than a Hybrid. Obviously we weren't breaking any speed records. I had mapped out a route that would take us into farming country where the roads were all pretty flat and surprisingly smooth.

 

The initial climb up to the temple essentially 'paid' for all the downhill the rest of the way. Since it's quite literally the middle of nowhere, there were very few cars on the road. And by cars I mean trucks that belong to the farmers. 95% of the time we had the road to ourselves and had ample space to goof around and ride no handed. Very skillfully, I took off my backpack, got my camera out, and snapped this picture... All while riding no handed.

We rode roughly 26 miles and completed in a time I'd rather not share. (Spencer is slower than me despite the fact he has at least 4x more functioning gears at any one time.)

I got home, showered, ate, laid around until the evening time. I then met up with Andrew and Kyle again and we were picked up by some friends and we all went to Chili's down in IF (Idaho Falls). There we celebrated one of the girl's birthdays and had a gay old time.
After the dinner, we headed back to Rexburg and met up at one the girls' apartments and had an 'Arab Dance Party'. Besides the possibility of eating nasty food and Bhangra dancing, I really didn't know what to expect, and quite frankly, I thought it was going to suck.

We walked in and some other people who weren't at dinner were already there and were dressed for the occasion: Towels rolled up and put on head, skirts with jingly metals, and fake beards. It was a surprise party (after the dinner? I know I was further confused...) so as more people got there, we applied fake beards and put towels on our head.
The birthday girl arrived, we didn't entirely surprise her, and the middle eastern music began. Eastern style dancing was attempted and was shockingly fun even though no one really knew what to do.

 

 Perhaps you can see Moses in the back left? When he walked in, we all, as if it were planned, shouted 'MOSES' from The Ten Commandments movie. 

At the end of the party, we said how we should have an 'Insensitive Party' every weekend. But we figured we wouldn't care if people in other countries had an American party and came dressed to that as a fat guy with a mullet. Especially since one guy came with paper towel tubes taped to his chest with TNT written on them... Good thing there's maybe 4 middle eastern people in the entire state of Idaho.

Sunday came-Stake Conference, or 10 hour church as I like to call it. Realistically it's only 2 hours, but with just talks, it seems to drag on a bit.

In the evening though, our apartment finally put plan into action as we, at long last, constructed our fort.

From the Kitchen^^

 

From the inside of our new fort room.^^

It's awesome. We tell secrets, eat popcorn and watch TV.

And finally, today I woke up the unpleasant noises of raindrops hitting out window. I put on pants and shirt and looked felt outside to see how cold it was. It was 2 zip up jacket weather.

I threw those on, brushed my teeth and put together my backpack. I grabbed my umbrella and headed outside. But now... It was snowing?! I wasn't sure if I was supposed to still use an umbrella. So I acted like a freshman and pranced around in my snazzy umbrella.

I was glad I did because at some points, the snow was going horizontally. While others tucked their heads down and walked blindly on the sidewalks, I stood tall, umbrella directly ahead of me, also walking blindly. The difference being, I didn't have snowflakes (that would inevitably melt and be wet) all over myself.

The week is only supposed to get colder so we'll see how long before I break down and cry. But I must go out on a high note so... There's less than 2 weeks before I come back to amazing California weather!

The power of DREAMS!

All my roommates are great. That is... except one. We'll call him 'Chris'. Everyone else (EVEN ME!) cleans their pots and pans after they make a meal, they put their dishes in the dish washer, and put away the stuff they used to make a meal.
Not Chris. If it wasn't for us, there would always be 3 or 4 pots/pans in the sink. I'm quite certain he doesn't know we have a dishwasher as he always leaves his dishes out and at best, he puts them in the sink. HELLO! DISH-WASHER!!!! The only work you have to do is opening the door and placing the plate in the slots and your utensils in the little cubby things!
Not only that but he always seems to think he's the only one home and that we all love country blaring from his laptop. I hate other people's music blaring, and I DESPISE country music. And to top it all off, when he isn't blasting tunes of a man fornicating with his pick up, he's eating... (which in turn makes more dirty dishes) VERY LOUDLY. The other day he made a batch of oatmeal while I sat in the living room going over my psych notes. He sits down and slurps up some oatmeal and chews louder than I thought humanly possible.
Long story short, he bugs me. A surprise right that I don't like everyone?

But today... Today my friends, as I took my usual MWF nap between class blocks, I had a dream. In this dream there were some females over to our apartment, talking to Chris of all people. And for some reason, I walked out there and started ripping on him and how he always leaves his crap out and never washes his dishes. I woke up thinking that later that day I would say something like what I said in my dream, but be a little nicer about it since I have to live with him for another 5 months. I put my backpack together for my next set of classes, and opened my bedroom door, and oh my what is this!? Chris had not only unloaded the dishwasher for the first time, but he was cleaning all the pots and pans in the sink (which were all his). I was astounded to say the least.

Maybe I was sleep yelling and actually said all those things and Chris heard it and took note. Maybe my telepathic brainwaves from my dream floated over and enticed him to do the dishes. I don't know. But I'm grateful for whatever it was.

I feel so pretty!

First off, it being Halloween weekend, I had to think of a costume. Some of you may know that last year at EFY there were a ton of boxes from tiny water bottles left over from lunch one day so I thought it'd be cool to dress up like a robot and run around.
Our apartment kept all the soda boxes we had so I thought I'd do it again. But this time, my chest piece was greatly improved. I bought a bike about a month ago and it came in a rather large box. One just big enough to fit my bulging pecs and certainly big enough width-wise. I went to work with my roommates knife. My roommate was sleeping in the living room at the time and I walked out with the box on and all he said was, "David... I love you man..." I aim to please, what can I say?

So my roommate threw on a red plaid shirt, my Beardhead and lumberjack hat (see Mustache Monday post)  and we were on our way. First we knocked on some guys' apartments to see if we could get more boxes as some of the one's I had on would inevitably break. Sadly, nothing turned up. So we went to the girls' side to see if they'd have candy or something. The first door these girls opened the door and gave us very weird looks, understandably. We asked them if they had any boxes, then inquired as to the presence of candy in the apartment. They said no, but then brought out a huge box of donuts. We accepted one each and continued on our quest. Since I didn't dare go up stairs in my costume, we went out to the sidewalk and danced on the corner and made cars stop. I mean, who's gonna dare run over a robot right?
We then heard some music coming from down the street and decided to hit that up and dance around. There was in fact a dance party at an apartment complex and we joined in. Again many weird looks, and compliments, were received. At one point, three guys (I assume) in green man suits saw me and came over and started dancing with us. Then two more guys dressed as teletubbies came over and started dancing as well. If I didn't know better I'd guess that's what it's like to be on drugs. So many weird things were going on.
Devan (my roommate) and I eventually made our way into the center of the group and continued to dance. People kept telling me to do the robot, but I assured them I wasn't programmed to dance like that. After a while one of their bouncers (or some random fat guy) told me I had to get out of the center because I was taking up too much space and hitting people with my boxes. I was, but c'mon man! I wanna party!
After a while the dance regressed and the box for my left foot totally got destroyed so we called it a night.

I woke up today at 1 and decided it was high time for a haircut. One of my roommate's lady friends works at the Paul Mitchell Hair Academy and told me it was only nine bucks and the treatment was amazing. She wasn't kidding.
I get there at about 2:15 and give my name and all that jazz. There's some 50 women walkin around, cuttin hair, doin girl talk and all that jazz. I was intimidated to say the least. After a few minutes of waiting, I was approached by a five foot woman with very short purple hair. She was my stylist. We walk over to her station and right as I sit down she starts feeling up my hair and tells me she's never felt hair like mine before. At first I thought it was a compliment, but then I was brought back to reality as she said it was very dry, coarse, and thick. Thanks mom.
After she asked what kind of style I wanted and, what I assumed was her supervisor, came over, she rubbed some oil in my hair and started giving me a full on head massage. It felt awesome. But it did leave my hair very fluffy and 'afro-ey'. She took a while to cut my hair which is my only grievance, but after she was done, she took me into another room full of head washing stations. Inside this dimly lit room, soft music was playing to 'bring in the zen'. She rinsed my hair with warm water and, again, rubbed my hair with a shampoo mixed with mint green tea something or other. This made my head and hair very tingly and cold and... Well it's difficult to describe. After that, she styled my hair into a cool little faux hawk and my trip was done. All of that for just $9. Sure beats getting a simple buzz at Great Clips for $16 where an Asian women named Li Tam tells you, 'Oh your hair very damaged from chlorine. Feels very bad. You buy shampoo make it all betta'

Now I feel normal again with hair that I don't need to style every morning. Off to another night full of robot hijinks.

This is where I complain

You'll surely read a lot about my confusion as to why Katie likes me so much. Don't get me wrong, I love her too, and am extremely glad the feeling is mutual. But why! If I'm not telling her a weird story that, after I finish the story, I realize it had absolutely no point, I'm usually complaining to her. Or my roommates. Or my parents. Or any friends who happen to be online. But I complain in a way that makes (some) people laugh. This way they don't realize until later that I was in fact complaining.

Today I choose to complain about people who don't walk correctly. Is it just me or should walking on sidewalks be treated similarly to driving? Just walk on the right side and there won't be any awkward standoffs where you feel like you're dancing with the other person. Leave some room in the middle of the walkway so people who have somewhere to go can pass those that are simply meandering and don't have anything important to do.
I am one such person that usually walks quite swiftly, especially when I'm walking alone. Other idiots think it's fine to diverge from their straight walking and, just when I'm about to pass them, move left, speed up or worst of all: start a full fledged conversation in the middle of the walkway. 'Oh my gosh! Hey random person I said 5 words to one semester in some stupid philosophy class! Let's have an awkward conversation that has no direction in the middle of this sidewalk so people who are trying to get to class have to stop, give us weird looks and step around us! It would be make so much more sense to stand off to one side, but since we don't care... What's up!'

These people frustrate me.

But to give a more specific example: I was walking to my science class which is in the middle of an oddly formatted building. Just as I was about to go through the doors, the guy in front of me thinks it's cool to just barely slide in past the closing door. Literally doing a jump step to barely make it through before the door slaps him on the butt leaving me to have to grab the door awkwardly and hold it open long enough for the next person to grab the door. He then continues to walk, slowly mind you, in the middle of the hallway in a sort of beeline, making any attempt to pass him difficult and awkward. He would veer towards a door as if it was his class. But alas, he would swerve right back into the middle of the hallway cutting me off. This continued till I finally reached my class.

People need to learn to be normal.

Yes I exaggerate the little things. But it's fun. It's what I do.

Consistency

When I said I'd be posting everyday, I meant at least once a month :)

It is very cold now. It seems like Fall never happened as just last week it was in the low to mid 80s. This week I wake up and it's 22 degrees. With wind chill it's 14. And that's a good wind.
Thankfully when I packed for college I anticipated this and took people's stories (that seemed exaggerated at the time) to heart and had one suitcase more than half filled with just jackets. Other gifts such as my lumberjack hat, Beardhead, and Panda Hat keep my head warm, and random accessories Laura gave me such as a scarf and gloves are aiding the cause as well.

I wake up Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays to darkness, and with that darkness, extreme cold. I grudgingly get out of bed, shower, and contemplate if I should wear one hoodie and a coat or numerous hoodies. After putting on jeans and a t-shirt, I open the door to my apartment, let some cold in and make my final decision, again, grudgingly.
People tell me it's not even at it's worst, or even close to it. I feel a strong desire to punch these people. But all in all I laugh. I laugh at how ridiculously cold it is. That on the coldest days of winter in the Bay area, it would MAYBE hit the teens. It's late October and Rexburg has already accomplished this. I'm on the Fall/Winter track. This makes me :'(

But I am checking off many firsts with this weather. I wore my first scarf today, and though I did feel a tad flamboyant, I was indeed warm and received quite a few compliments. I also played soccer in the snow for the first time, though that was not planned, nor enjoyable. And upon getting home from said practice, I took what surely had to be the longest shower I've ever taken, trying to thaw my entire body.

I'll share a few stories since I've obviously neglected this blog for quite some time.
Monday we had Family Home Evening and since I'm the 'dad' of our family I plan half the activities. It was my week so I decided we should go to Mustache Monday at a local burger joint called 'Sammy's'. The deal is: if you have a real mustache, you get a free grilled cheese, and if you have a fake one, (drawn on or otherwise) you get half off.

 Though my Beardhead was obviously the best, we all went got some delicious grilled cheese sandwiches and some quite tasty shakes. One of the fellows liked my Beardhead so much, he gave me a free order of fries and took my picture with a polaroid and put it up on their wall.

The other day I also received a care package from my loving girlfriend back home. This included some candy, mac n cheese, WOOL SOCKS! Hand and feet warmers, ear plugs (for my snoring roommate -__-) and a wonderful letter.
The picture above shows how I'm dealing with the cold. The scarf from my sister, my multi-hoodie action, wool socks that you can't see, and the hot chocolate that, though scalding when I bought it, got to the perfect temperature by the time I walked home.

I'm sure I'll say this again in a month, but I'll try to take more pictures and post more often so everyone can feel bad for me more often and maybe people will send me more things :)

Starting Off

I've contemplated starting a blog for a few months now. It started when I'd come across strange things at my two summer jobs-Indian weddings, gypsies coming to the pool with lawn flamingos, and how parents say the darndest things to their kids.
My jobs then reached an end and hardly anything interesting happened to me for some time. Then once I got to college I realized there are some weird people here too. Telling stories to those around me and my family is fun, but after about the third time telling the same story, I get a little tired and it doesn't seem as interesting. So, as always, I'm taking the lazy way out and putting all the happy haps on this here blog.

I suppose I'll start off with the most common question asked: How are you liking college?
It's awesome! Sure I hate waking up early and walking everywhere (how did the pioneers do that?! They should've just waited a hundred years till there were cars...) but everything else is awesome. Classes at BYU-I are smaller than Provo, so that part I definitely enjoy. I can sit next to the same people every day and not have to try to remember 500 people's names for one class. My English class is the smallest, consisting of roughly 25 people. Next, my science, math, and Book of Mormon class made up of 40-60 people. My psych class is around 80 and my biggest is my American History class which is over 150 students. The professors are all really cool. Especially my History, BoM, and psych teachers. When they talk and explain things, you can really tell they know nearly everything there is to know about the subject. They don't hesitate at all when asked a question because they have so much knowledge just hovering around in their heads!

Next people ask if I'm staying in the dorms. I'm not, my parents spoiled me and threw me in at Nauvoo House. An apartment complex a block away from campus. It's got a kitchen with stove, oven, dishwasher and fridge. Plenty of cupboard space and a counter top. The living room has two couches and a decent sized TV. We have cable which is pretty sweet as well. 6 beds, 3 bedrooms, a bathroom with two sinks and two shower/ toilets. We bought wireless for the apt since the wired internet was super slow... and wired.
My roomates are all cool (for the most part) and we unknowingly went into rooms in alphabetical, matching order: David Devan, Kristian Kyle, and Tom Trent.
I also joined the competitive soccer league through the intramural system deal thing. There are 6 teams, all of which are pretty good. A bud from home also ended up on my team after tryouts so I can remember at least one name (So many names to remember up here!)

There will probably be a post a day up until I've run out of things to recall from weeks prior. Hope I can entertain you through out the year.