That Time I Accidentally Mooned all the Men in the Temple

Losing weight is hard.  I'm not talking about the exercise you have to do every day, or the fact that you have to watch what you eat.  Those are hard, but they've been a part of my life for over a year now.  I'm used to them, and I've learned pretty well when I need to be hardcore about it and when I need to let myself splurge.

No, what I'm talking about is a danger much more sinister.  Losing weight puts you in a position where you have 2 choices, neither of which is something any sane person would want to go through.  You see, when you lose weight your body shape tends to be in constant flux.  Clothes that fit you a few months ago will suddenly no longer fit.

These are the 2 choices you are presented with that I mentioned above:

The first is a true terror.  Something I try to never ever do.  Go shopping for clothes.  Are you with me?  What person would ever choose to do this?  If you have a constant, unchanging size, this is a pretty simple process.  You go online, find something with the correct number on it, buy it and receive a box a few days later.  It's painless and simple.  (This process only works for males.  From what I hear, sizes are relatively meaningless in the female world.)

But if you don't really know your size or what fits, because it has changed since a month ago, this is a horrible experience.  You have to wander around the store for a while, looking at prices and thinking about how you have perfectly good clothes at home, and this money should go toward buying something awesome.  Then you have to select something that you can stomach spending money on.  Then you have to go into a dressing room guarded by a clothes folding sentinel, feel really awkward taking off your clothes in a store, put on the item you picked, realize it doesn't fit and then repeat the process until you either find something that you're willing to live with, or you claw your own eyes out in frustration.  (The two outcomes have about an equal chance of happening.)

As terrible as the first option is, it turns out that delaying the first option leads to the inevitable second option.  The first option may be terrible, but at least you can choose when it happens and you can prepare for it.  The second option comes when you least expect it.  Of course, the second option is to participate in public nudity.  I've already told you about the time the wind blew my clothes off.  That was a relatively painless form of public nudity.  I was outside, so it was technically public, but no one was outside with me.  Anyone that saw me was just peeking out a window and we don't have to look each other in the eye and ever acknowledge that it happened.

This one was a little more public.

I'll start at the beginning.  I went to the temple with some family members.  I always wear a suit to the temple, and then I change into my white clothes in the dressing room.  I ran into my good friend Cameron, who works at the temple, as I was walking in.  We chatted for a few moments.  He mentioned that my suit is beginning to look ginormous on me.  (My suit is one of the items I haven't replaced.  I get cranky about spending 10 bucks on a pair of shorts.  Do you think I want to spend $300 on a suit?)  I casually mentioned that I was a little worried about my white pants.  The last time I had been to the temple was a month earlier, and I had noticed that my pants were starting to get really loose.  I had meant to get a belt before it got to be a problem, but had not yet done so.

"You know you can rent clothes, right?  I'll even give you the money if you're worried about that."

I should have listened to Cameron, that wise old sage.  I wasn't worried about the money.  It's like 75 cents.  I just figured I had only lost a pound since last month.  It shouldn't be that big of a deal.

Fast forward to the actual temple session.  There are portions of the ceremony where you need to stand up.  During one of these times, I felt a little breezy in the back.  I reached back to pull up my pants, thinking they were riding a little low, and that's when I realized the terrible truth.  It was my underwear that was riding a little low.  My pants were no longer a part of the picture.  Luckily, during this part of the ceremony, I was surrounded by men.  Not that men want to see my backside any more than women, but it seems slightly less embarrassing.

The title of this post is a little misleading.  I didn't actually moon anyone, because I still had under garments covering the essential pieces (though they were definitely riding low, and I won't claim that nothing was revealed) but my pants were definitely not contributing to keeping anything covered.

I totally looked like those punk kids who can't keep their clothes on.  That would be embarrassing anytime, but the temple makes it a special kind of embarrassing.

There is one shining light that makes this whole thing bearable.  I've been a little discouraged that I've only lost like 2 pounds over the past few months.  But, at least this shows that the change in my body shape is still fairly dramatic.

P.S. I bought a white belt on Amazon the moment I got home.  I didn't even have to go to a store.  Crisis averted.

The Day the Wind Blew My Clothes Off

It would appear that both Robyn and I should stay indoors when the wind is blowing.  Because, try as we might, we are unable to stay fully clothed if the wind gets strong enough.

The above title may not be 100% accurate.  The wind didn't actually blow my clothes off.  But the wind was blowing, and as an indirect result, I lacked clothes.  So I felt it was close enough that you wouldn't begrudge me the use of the sensationalist title.  Plus, I thought it would be a good sequel to my post from last year about when the wind blew my wife's clothes off.

To set the stage for this story, you first need to understand that I have no bum.  I sat down to write this post Sunday evening, and I realized my bumlessness was an important factoid you needed to understand, so I wrote that post instead.

Also, with my recent lifestyle change where I'm trying to be more healthy, one of the things I've been doing is walking on the treadmill each morning before work.  We have a TV in front of the treadmill and I can watch various forms of amusement while I exercise.  Right next to the TV is a window that happens to look directly into my neighbor's backyard.

Okay, so here's the story.

The other morning, there was some crazy wind.  I was walking on my treadmill, minding my own business, when I saw something very large blow into my neighbor's backyard.  My first thought was, "Wow, somebody lost something big."  My second thought was, "Wait, that is ours.  We lost something big."

We recently put together some grow boxes so we could have a garden in our back yard.  We put in fresh mulch and put some big cardboard pieces on top to help keep the soil from drying out.

Those large cardboard pieces had decided to vacate our yard and visit our neighbors.

Naturally, I ran outside in hopes of capturing them before they went too far.

Our neighbors had the excellent foresight to have some big bushes in their backyard.  These bushes captured these cardboard sheets so that I could retrieve them.  I grabbed the sheets and did my best to make my way back to my own yard.

Did I mention it was windy?  Did I mention the cardboard sheets were large?  I've never felt like the wind could blow me away until this moment.

I'm a sailor.  I sail.

It turns out the principles behind sailing apply whether you're in a boat, or just standing there.  The best I could do was plant my feet and not move.  I was successfully not blowing away, but I realized I probably couldn't just stand there and wait for the wind to stop.

I devised a strategy to turn my body around so that the sail would be blowing into me instead of trying to carry me away.  I was able to get turned around, and my strategy worked.  There was still a lot of wind resistance, and movement wasn't exactly easy, but at least I could walk.

Now is the time when you need to remember that I have no bum.  The shorts I wear on the treadmill are the same ones I wear to bed.  They are intentionally loose fitting for maximum comfort.  But since I am more bumless than I was a few months ago, they are especially loose fitting.  (I've taken to hiking them up over my belly while on the treadmill.  I'm sure it's a fantastic sight.)

As I started walking, while simultaneously being tossed to and fro by every wind of doctrine, I suddenly realized something that was very disheartening.  My shorts were around my ankles.

By this time I had made my way to my own front yard, which is an excellent place to be standing with your pants around your ankles while fighting the wind to keep yourself vertical.  The other issue was that my hands were somewhat occupied holding onto the cardboard sheet.

I did my best to pull my shorts back up without letting go of the cardboard or blowing away myself.  I slowly waddled my way to the back yard where I restored the cardboard to its home.

If I'd have thought of the rocks beforehand, I could have remained fully clothed.

The Time the Wind Blew my Wife's Clothes Off

The following story is true.  It is also quite humorous.  At the time, under no circumstances was I permitted to laugh.  But now that it's been a while and Robyn is not quite as embarrassed, she is now willing to admit that it was quite funny.

You see, we had driven to the Pali lookout here in Hawaii.  It is a cliff that overlooks the majority of the island of Oahu.  It is a beautiful view of the jungle, mountains and ocean.  We had been enjoying the view when I noticed a particularly strong gust of wind.

I asked Robyn to take a picture of me to show just how windy it was. Robyn obliged and took this picture.

There are some things you should know about the above picture.

First, I know it looks like I just wore really wrinkled clothes.  While I do do that on occasion, this time the wrinkles are due to some serious wind.

Second, this picture is not what the story is about.  The real story is what happened behind the camera.

You see, like a dutiful wife, Robyn took my picture.  While doing so, a gust of wind came along and caused quite a ruckus.  (I'm not entirely sure that ruckus is a word, but the editor didn't do the little red underline thing so I'm going with it.)

Before I explain the nature of the ruckus, I need to help you understand the clothing Robyn was wearing.  This is Robyn at Pearl Harbor, earlier that day.

There are a few things you should notice about this picture:
First, Robyn is very precious.  But that's normal.
Second, she is wearing a blue sleeveless dress with a white sweater over the top.
Third, the white sweater dips down quite low and is also somewhat see through, so she probably wouldn't want to wear the white sweater by itself.

Keep those important facts in mind as I tell you the story of what happened behind the camera when the first picture above was taken.

So, after she snapped the shot she started screaming.  (Not the blood curdling, "I'm being murdered" scream but the little yelp that indicates something quite surprising is occurring.)  Accompanied with the scream she started saying things about her dress.

I thought she was concerned that something like this would happen:

Well,  unfortunately that's not what happened.  But to help you understand what did happen, I've hired a world renowned artist.

First, the wind caught hold of her long dress and pulled it between her legs.

Note: This extremely accurate drawing is not of Medusa.  Her hair was really blowy.

It started flapping in the wind, and the more it flapped, the more downward pressure was being put on the dress.  Pretty soon, it went from being a dress to being a skirt.

Note:  This awesome drawing is not anatomically correct.

At this point I realized there may be a problem.  I corralled her over to a nearby wall, and I tried to form a human shield while she dressed herself once again.  I gave other people the "There's nothing to see here, move along" look.  It was very effective.

Once Robyn got her clothes back on, I figured it was time to admit that what happened was pretty funny.  It turns out that was too soon.  I had a cranky wife for a bit.

But when we got back to where we're staying that night, we discussed how our adventures for the day had been a real success.  I mean, we all remained fully clothed for almost the entire day.  If that's not success I don't know what is.