tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26602223020617374562024-03-13T12:11:32.473-07:00The (F)Unemployed LifeL-Bohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13139147540677465999noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222302061737456.post-20438110856302137392011-01-15T00:32:00.001-08:002011-01-15T01:58:19.001-08:00Less Talky, More BloggyWell Kelly, all I have to say is, you get what you ask for.<br /><br />Yes, I have been incommunicado for the last month. Yes, I am the worst, and yes, if you still read my blog, you will see more from me soon.<br /><br />The holidays have a nasty way of sneaking up on me. Around November 28th or so, I realize Christmas is coming and maybe I should buy some stuff for those I love. December 15th, I'm considering looking at Amazon. December 20th, I realize I need to get my mom a Christmas present AND that birthday present I forgot to get her back in July, and December 22nd, I'm on Amazon at midnight so my stuff gets to me by the 24th. Thank you Amazon Prime!<br /><br />Christmas hits me like this:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsSMlZfFmuk_zxCt2-O4leoi1Fkqj8dWf98HoTOL9woO3IGUoHu2hccOOxwyKXpiMAPWbe4S27myxCM-EpPJmrPPTt6n2xnOo9nDlIFUgiya36VepHcXoovEVZyPWO1K02uaaiGZ7A2_Fd/s1600/snow1.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 326px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsSMlZfFmuk_zxCt2-O4leoi1Fkqj8dWf98HoTOL9woO3IGUoHu2hccOOxwyKXpiMAPWbe4S27myxCM-EpPJmrPPTt6n2xnOo9nDlIFUgiya36VepHcXoovEVZyPWO1K02uaaiGZ7A2_Fd/s400/snow1.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562336850706648050" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv4pwa83AaAs0ZhbC4Eb70dQmam_UjUghxazzSXZqt2PGrH0pCue8nLnrFVEkWEqk8XIUH8_lYr8lI1PAe58SBs0hOJpgZ_rBUaNLQl-73PXGyrsv2-Rqwfy2bPcRBnnCCHNhv_zI5XIHM/s1600/tree.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 326px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv4pwa83AaAs0ZhbC4Eb70dQmam_UjUghxazzSXZqt2PGrH0pCue8nLnrFVEkWEqk8XIUH8_lYr8lI1PAe58SBs0hOJpgZ_rBUaNLQl-73PXGyrsv2-Rqwfy2bPcRBnnCCHNhv_zI5XIHM/s400/tree.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562336857869181586" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg22du0_cfl06XAgNx9Xgw2FaAt9pLfgyMYUb-Tbq8QaSN9rmeYOYtUJhlT89DieqkOXB2YhY_6td6sQTRzQeuhR30XeDTfMbTbgrMuKFHHVFZXusunmvQVff7VK1WwZFtTm9g1sjWEKOZa/s1600/tree2.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 326px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg22du0_cfl06XAgNx9Xgw2FaAt9pLfgyMYUb-Tbq8QaSN9rmeYOYtUJhlT89DieqkOXB2YhY_6td6sQTRzQeuhR30XeDTfMbTbgrMuKFHHVFZXusunmvQVff7VK1WwZFtTm9g1sjWEKOZa/s400/tree2.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562336857117116242" border="0" /></a>Or like this:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ueamkaJ8QVZC7T55kTMtueU-leNNl8U9QuFEHayzBdIoGGyQaZn2UCFfXausoZjfcsNH8xoOf9fZfbVBRPOGmGqwmVSWhqG73JTgrDM6_sNPTIHYuzXWuR168YTpEkJWTNxAXue5nYZs/s1600/death+star1.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 326px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ueamkaJ8QVZC7T55kTMtueU-leNNl8U9QuFEHayzBdIoGGyQaZn2UCFfXausoZjfcsNH8xoOf9fZfbVBRPOGmGqwmVSWhqG73JTgrDM6_sNPTIHYuzXWuR168YTpEkJWTNxAXue5nYZs/s400/death+star1.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562349070469731602" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYj9WwpD3kMdFphDpZco2-GWCAxEOeN6Fi5qsZoDDm2VM3YKIUdLUAgHA_yQkKkkad40TH2jTVHoUdjG6qPkc4tae3EfiuPPeLIXn93MWRjHatGfkjrxMPP7SDumKx1MftbF-MMHW4rqcp/s1600/death+star2.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 326px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYj9WwpD3kMdFphDpZco2-GWCAxEOeN6Fi5qsZoDDm2VM3YKIUdLUAgHA_yQkKkkad40TH2jTVHoUdjG6qPkc4tae3EfiuPPeLIXn93MWRjHatGfkjrxMPP7SDumKx1MftbF-MMHW4rqcp/s400/death+star2.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562349076924826226" border="0" /></a>Or even this:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv3lC1llPXNFuJeqFOTw24pRR9eRooVnoE4YCIamvS0fqHp7x_qfQJm5Thwm8r_8PbvBB3Lm0wyVPHW_D62F1-ITBcdtHx1iM_c0LBVYI7_qInFpnmf0VoHPqYCsgPhaKBZ2qncLWvmxf9/s1600/death+star3.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 326px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv3lC1llPXNFuJeqFOTw24pRR9eRooVnoE4YCIamvS0fqHp7x_qfQJm5Thwm8r_8PbvBB3Lm0wyVPHW_D62F1-ITBcdtHx1iM_c0LBVYI7_qInFpnmf0VoHPqYCsgPhaKBZ2qncLWvmxf9/s400/death+star3.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562349081995571554" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Dj5ZbaFBOLGGIuzOmIanKy7Tu6fSUwVoqAJUDXO4CoysfLTg4ptQphGOPZ7oYazr9Ju8RNGnXu6MmbSJCx-XnJE4ePoSFkfcASwPLWx3Chv0c_ToFkNyQDL3mPAMJ6eLExxPaaGdrx58/s1600/death+star4.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 326px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Dj5ZbaFBOLGGIuzOmIanKy7Tu6fSUwVoqAJUDXO4CoysfLTg4ptQphGOPZ7oYazr9Ju8RNGnXu6MmbSJCx-XnJE4ePoSFkfcASwPLWx3Chv0c_ToFkNyQDL3mPAMJ6eLExxPaaGdrx58/s400/death+star4.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562349081953125458" border="0" /></a>Anyway, despite a sub-par holiday, this new year is promising to be a good one! I'm working at a new restaurant called Uneeda Burger in Fremont, and having so much fun. I do front of house during the day, but they let me come in and volunteer on the line on my days off. It's been great, but I'm pretty sure everyone thinks I'm going to cut off a finger. Little do they know I've been there, done that, and have lingering phobias of hand/knife injuries. I am becoming quite adept at not cutting myself thank you very much.<br /><br />Anyway, happy new year everyone! Let's make 2011 the best ever!L-Bohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13139147540677465999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222302061737456.post-69757914326419470132010-12-16T13:10:00.000-08:002010-12-16T14:17:40.080-08:00Lauren's First ChristmasI promise, my New Year's resolution will be to update more and be even more hilarious. Sorry, end of the quarter means I actually do work in the office, or I get bored and watch movies....<br /><br />In other news, I will be starting a new job on Monday! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">YAY</span>!! I'm going to start working at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Uneeda</span> Burger in Fremont, which is a burger restaurant that uses organic, grass-fed, local, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">kobe</span>-beef and fancy ass cheeses. It should be fun, and I feel kind of fancy, even though I'm working at a burger place.<br /><br />Anyway, here is my Christmas poem to everyone, punctuated with pictures from my first Christmas.<br /><br />Gather your family 'round the fire,<br />And spread some Christmas cheer!<br />Let's all sing songs and celebrate,<br />The best time of the year!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5wZ7QSuL7Xo8xrTKUxgrHiBk3Fb7Ho-RR3RX5q-vafHNvd3RsOKhDCZoGDcSTPg2Sy_94NisbB_iFrw2OI27eMKIfGEhUhiw_TeXrHp1D4pZ0cyEhLVji2VL6p5fROxBXPRFB_Ekb9bDx/s1600/boubel.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 261px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5wZ7QSuL7Xo8xrTKUxgrHiBk3Fb7Ho-RR3RX5q-vafHNvd3RsOKhDCZoGDcSTPg2Sy_94NisbB_iFrw2OI27eMKIfGEhUhiw_TeXrHp1D4pZ0cyEhLVji2VL6p5fROxBXPRFB_Ekb9bDx/s400/boubel.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551396333085939410" border="0" /></a>We're all darning our Christmas best,<br />In matching dresses and bows.<br />And mother calms the oldest child,<br />Whose fierce fists, are getting thrown.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0WEMgSp7AK04HaqKUpVV3Vg6Rmdkhkxt0nEC_kjKODax1LFzXxqZ4e3TvaekVmIVlDmZ0G9uck1lXPQMtwFkq-Z_yLhhyphenhyphen92fzDsM5C0hbZKxTVWmBYKi0_P3fVi_8xySasWuEo1bwS5S4/s1600/mombusy.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 275px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0WEMgSp7AK04HaqKUpVV3Vg6Rmdkhkxt0nEC_kjKODax1LFzXxqZ4e3TvaekVmIVlDmZ0G9uck1lXPQMtwFkq-Z_yLhhyphenhyphen92fzDsM5C0hbZKxTVWmBYKi0_P3fVi_8xySasWuEo1bwS5S4/s400/mombusy.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551399279171496578" border="0" /></a>Santa Claus, like <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">grandpapa</span>,<br />will spread the Christmas cheer.<br />And Lauren laughs and laughs too hard,<br />She wet the sofa, it appears.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX_eBQUfPLcKJskbcZJ40KzN1NyIYBoQnNxTU-Tzi_Dxs7KeUYOHa6Pz1x8uE-N5s3ol_2DONkjVIy9L0nxEsRKZ-swFdYkRoU5ibDNOmCbZzyEbgRO6WngyyBa_wvb4WkSwtVjh_3LJNO/s1600/laughin.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 281px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX_eBQUfPLcKJskbcZJ40KzN1NyIYBoQnNxTU-Tzi_Dxs7KeUYOHa6Pz1x8uE-N5s3ol_2DONkjVIy9L0nxEsRKZ-swFdYkRoU5ibDNOmCbZzyEbgRO6WngyyBa_wvb4WkSwtVjh_3LJNO/s400/laughin.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551399276265714722" border="0" /></a>The dog has run, and jumped and sprung,<br />Through every shrub and tree.<br />And her hard work and a Remington,<br />Will provide us all with Christmas feast.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXt5MKGY3byZuJw_xjzsatnuh8fGNuTdLRcipUg2FKP0qLaAWygxMtN_xZWt4v3EWrpm9WrEXQx6RSrUq48cwkq0mIeFsrYUcsgVHIl1D4bjpsBlIxGhPJ3EVZwf7cuulSCYQIflAwwMP2/s1600/deadstuff.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 291px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXt5MKGY3byZuJw_xjzsatnuh8fGNuTdLRcipUg2FKP0qLaAWygxMtN_xZWt4v3EWrpm9WrEXQx6RSrUq48cwkq0mIeFsrYUcsgVHIl1D4bjpsBlIxGhPJ3EVZwf7cuulSCYQIflAwwMP2/s400/deadstuff.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551396337174962210" border="0" /></a>Soon to bed, but first, a drink!<br />We raise our glasses high.<br />The baby had too much, again,<br />Her hangover comes nigh.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5YkbkGcamI4gdQEEv1I7KW6vlO64FZMkdpAKSV1ZYFwp9Q66N1EAqfj6yacOjFtylcz4eCaEYWrH2Xq7Wg62n623y3NCCYlqdBEK0EZnlF1WEPQLJ8kSZPRu7htL1qGvu-NpejPgKNrRH/s1600/food.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 271px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5YkbkGcamI4gdQEEv1I7KW6vlO64FZMkdpAKSV1ZYFwp9Q66N1EAqfj6yacOjFtylcz4eCaEYWrH2Xq7Wg62n623y3NCCYlqdBEK0EZnlF1WEPQLJ8kSZPRu7htL1qGvu-NpejPgKNrRH/s400/food.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551396346519913762" border="0" /></a>And to our soft, warm beds, we go!<br />To lay our weary heads!<br />Thinking of what St. Nick will bring,<br />Dear God, I hope we'll get new threads!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaKhqKw-wC5Tgn76XR5IWxKEE7aqv8od69D4z1mDpUjtxMkqpLYy3bGqd-wcwWKPFVVHCMyhSIKqRXNGPy4dFGdcqDnsJ4-YiJPJ52xK1jEb8PhVOedimwb__-UZg3G_NAIegO2Iihj5Px/s1600/ohholy80s.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 277px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaKhqKw-wC5Tgn76XR5IWxKEE7aqv8od69D4z1mDpUjtxMkqpLYy3bGqd-wcwWKPFVVHCMyhSIKqRXNGPy4dFGdcqDnsJ4-YiJPJ52xK1jEb8PhVOedimwb__-UZg3G_NAIegO2Iihj5Px/s400/ohholy80s.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551399289692401762" border="0" /></a>And in the morn, we spring awake,<br />To the tree, we dash!<br />Good Santa brought us hunting gear!<br />To match our full, red <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">stache</span>!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhABKFaIwJPV0gIBWJwoQeYK407WOu-ZIR7J0o7UXkqpfgdjl7FG6_d3XRbfFYkaIp8IedkP-LBwHx-TieW5_nrjwBNDdGMH1mfxSYJezyJmH77-IJtEmagp7k6gvr-v5fMlj5B48LHpAO7/s1600/dad.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 262px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhABKFaIwJPV0gIBWJwoQeYK407WOu-ZIR7J0o7UXkqpfgdjl7FG6_d3XRbfFYkaIp8IedkP-LBwHx-TieW5_nrjwBNDdGMH1mfxSYJezyJmH77-IJtEmagp7k6gvr-v5fMlj5B48LHpAO7/s400/dad.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551399277330653842" border="0" /></a>What luck did bring us sweaters again!<br />Knit at home, in a yarn torrent.<br />And mother and daughter, both alike,<br />Can appreciate this design so abhorrent.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRp3CrMO6KzrJ7_4RuDKwM9b5WQuVFMmGo_iwRIYWNhGv0UQrA7i4wVunn1X0HmkrmImABqsxkLLW86uUUhtyh94kdWZZKqukee40E8w6r7LMNcTb9k64hnnUIIUqINAMqHfv9zE-L4GWR/s1600/momsweater.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 301px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRp3CrMO6KzrJ7_4RuDKwM9b5WQuVFMmGo_iwRIYWNhGv0UQrA7i4wVunn1X0HmkrmImABqsxkLLW86uUUhtyh94kdWZZKqukee40E8w6r7LMNcTb9k64hnnUIIUqINAMqHfv9zE-L4GWR/s400/momsweater.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551399286239222482" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSMccHlqLGrLve_OuuUeANuwFQ3Eb9TQvgd692WX1RJG073pc95GegvB5_zpun713JOpnir5GYlhIQvHmBRtm6HTrWP9wgpqA_8tIyUEWg1XAU7xqr1f9FuBe6QOF3u8DwjgzbPqDLTvq0/s1600/kellysweater.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSMccHlqLGrLve_OuuUeANuwFQ3Eb9TQvgd692WX1RJG073pc95GegvB5_zpun713JOpnir5GYlhIQvHmBRtm6HTrWP9wgpqA_8tIyUEWg1XAU7xqr1f9FuBe6QOF3u8DwjgzbPqDLTvq0/s400/kellysweater.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551396348967483458" border="0" /></a>And little baby Lauren,<br />Got what she wanted too.<br />A bauble for Bauble, a Christmas delight!<br />A lamb on a string, from Santa, to you!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV99x0cmOJP2pjPEWBGPq93NqnGcRV4596cu4hhEhnMFJzi7Xhg0ZgV26gATSzZaR_AGCInVksAlXXwZrXFsWXUrLYVmIBdOYwEEpKavb9m80Gu9QxTTO7BWaSp9tnU5kCymjHGRpNwIYu/s1600/baby.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 278px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV99x0cmOJP2pjPEWBGPq93NqnGcRV4596cu4hhEhnMFJzi7Xhg0ZgV26gATSzZaR_AGCInVksAlXXwZrXFsWXUrLYVmIBdOYwEEpKavb9m80Gu9QxTTO7BWaSp9tnU5kCymjHGRpNwIYu/s400/baby.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551396322061420898" border="0" /></a>Merry <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Christmas</span> everyone!L-Bohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13139147540677465999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222302061737456.post-1955347554028858932010-12-06T09:27:00.000-08:002010-12-06T13:16:07.524-08:00Life LessonsFor those of you that haven't heard the news, I am a new aunt! My sister gave birth to little Enoch last Friday, December 3rd, at 2:22am PST. Guess what, unto us, a child is born.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd1Zr7vTmWUXxvxdxaLD74-UCz8fE9SbMDpR3I6oBHC4RusBfWZMLkRcn6INEKzR7zb7UG2MVN9wQJhVWfndiZ_vb9J10R3MhdioNRYxg3V28fvoWrX5nIozKoqcJw55NlBdisMpqjcNbb/s1600/BABY.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd1Zr7vTmWUXxvxdxaLD74-UCz8fE9SbMDpR3I6oBHC4RusBfWZMLkRcn6INEKzR7zb7UG2MVN9wQJhVWfndiZ_vb9J10R3MhdioNRYxg3V28fvoWrX5nIozKoqcJw55NlBdisMpqjcNbb/s400/BABY.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547622721548861202" border="0" /></a>I seriously cannot express the extent of my excitement over this little squishy bundle of joy. I am going to spoil the hell out of this kid. The first gift I am giving to little Enoch is an illustrated set of life lessons.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lesson #1: Always be careful of waves.</span><br /><br />If you are on a rock and a giant wave breaks on it, it does not look like this:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguNC1W4Rh4g2_twEZ9x7XMQ0IWURzL1eb5wP0U7TKISy-8XSxJsUxbUSuRxpv9fOmpfHDI7Sg5TrjUslGKRKwxbmfi7ctV7TO0qgzruylmRUQGJb2gMBkbjkONG6-jYVTK_FCU3oldbSGK/s1600/littlemermaid.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 350px; height: 295px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguNC1W4Rh4g2_twEZ9x7XMQ0IWURzL1eb5wP0U7TKISy-8XSxJsUxbUSuRxpv9fOmpfHDI7Sg5TrjUslGKRKwxbmfi7ctV7TO0qgzruylmRUQGJb2gMBkbjkONG6-jYVTK_FCU3oldbSGK/s400/littlemermaid.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547623646531678530" border="0" /></a>It looks more like this:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkBJSM5q3sE2qHWtYsvGIcEz0-rZFnqeA92KEwNdTz6JBVjdX1D-1EZqtYycy5nTXvcWVmWV-aitdeGfAzQVoZW-h-ecfzXqyok1-VpILWL4wg4FmbU_3buOduuKlr9WxVdLg8I6TbdlbG/s1600/1.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 349px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkBJSM5q3sE2qHWtYsvGIcEz0-rZFnqeA92KEwNdTz6JBVjdX1D-1EZqtYycy5nTXvcWVmWV-aitdeGfAzQVoZW-h-ecfzXqyok1-VpILWL4wg4FmbU_3buOduuKlr9WxVdLg8I6TbdlbG/s400/1.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547652481085045954" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQTApmu6kyhiEAX2St-M2HXlbM44onkj9ZpIh4khopTDJlCrBbT4XHnpWaxyY7JHW35fUhAp9KTjdnr8r_Qd2vnpJj1Db3eIhUaRZiuGXPTZPr3tjtMQebv8BAQSAF_9BAsE1uNlWfjFQj/s1600/2.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 349px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQTApmu6kyhiEAX2St-M2HXlbM44onkj9ZpIh4khopTDJlCrBbT4XHnpWaxyY7JHW35fUhAp9KTjdnr8r_Qd2vnpJj1Db3eIhUaRZiuGXPTZPr3tjtMQebv8BAQSAF_9BAsE1uNlWfjFQj/s400/2.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547652482815041218" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAfWHbvM_6pPXVZRxIVo_PetVC72q7TkTrih4mI4KNa7BhADp5OjPWr0kt9kwxoT5UeuwPn3j4hZzQkhDgxgshyf7LICaoepGltsZ11lzzOUeww9YPaYBxF4lFhY2zD3iZz7vV4DV7mmbI/s1600/3.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 349px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAfWHbvM_6pPXVZRxIVo_PetVC72q7TkTrih4mI4KNa7BhADp5OjPWr0kt9kwxoT5UeuwPn3j4hZzQkhDgxgshyf7LICaoepGltsZ11lzzOUeww9YPaYBxF4lFhY2zD3iZz7vV4DV7mmbI/s400/3.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547652486819788466" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit1Z3IewfmKSAicN6DAPvfYXTKipb98sbfdsJXCWFg3sooUmm9iR8sq7dU5jmtKBFydxUh4v1WY6F5zU4cCouaDLFBVUNsvyKJiixqvV7-DL_ZHzo1iiviS9x7S76awdCRTAHHHCbmRuCe/s1600/4.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 349px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit1Z3IewfmKSAicN6DAPvfYXTKipb98sbfdsJXCWFg3sooUmm9iR8sq7dU5jmtKBFydxUh4v1WY6F5zU4cCouaDLFBVUNsvyKJiixqvV7-DL_ZHzo1iiviS9x7S76awdCRTAHHHCbmRuCe/s400/4.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547652491508731410" border="0" /></a>If you do get owned by a wave, you will have to walk around in your wet Mickey Mouse sweatshirt all day and be coughing up sand for the next week. This lesson brought to you by 4 year-old Lauren.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lesson #2: Cats are sharp.</span><br /><br />I seem to learn this lesson every year, thinking "Oh, this cat won't be so bad! Maybe he'll even like me! That's totally why he crawled on my chest and is putting his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">butthole</span> right next to my face!" No. The cat is trying to lull you into a false sense of security.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKmXzX_838KKe1oifZjUNo6CabEnemPia171_Zxy8h6zCBBV0TQKgeTdlrLjIXZeLR0VYOTXiWlleDaEHDM_x1sD7XDbECf65ludOHXKyhAeqs9LZB-Gen_mOz2lTLf6j8lDQo5uJ3Eh-u/s1600/1.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 296px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKmXzX_838KKe1oifZjUNo6CabEnemPia171_Zxy8h6zCBBV0TQKgeTdlrLjIXZeLR0VYOTXiWlleDaEHDM_x1sD7XDbECf65ludOHXKyhAeqs9LZB-Gen_mOz2lTLf6j8lDQo5uJ3Eh-u/s400/1.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547661967185493842" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqoVRdnDHJmbnyU77Er7C0Xr6yDBjFE7Ck29bqSOuXbYd871dVzE7fT0sucKUqcuvKU6DNfuwvJ5Tj31BYL3r0c8EUnIPdSRb140HlAN-ab4ESFwM2x1JJOoT1GKK4FVd-Qww2Zj8DBEH_/s1600/2.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 296px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqoVRdnDHJmbnyU77Er7C0Xr6yDBjFE7Ck29bqSOuXbYd871dVzE7fT0sucKUqcuvKU6DNfuwvJ5Tj31BYL3r0c8EUnIPdSRb140HlAN-ab4ESFwM2x1JJOoT1GKK4FVd-Qww2Zj8DBEH_/s400/2.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547661975601918386" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJo1_GkPEh94jPPuMdaxvgY1Hgq8Xvi_B2aVTxYYbXj5KHCMqYo19KXShKkX_fvBT6gZr6UegK7sxq_AoC7pg1FoBFJV2s-UwaEf1RuNmLhkY_qScZ_UvMJXAANrY4Wa0Ja7cs9r9ZLvYg/s1600/cat.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 296px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJo1_GkPEh94jPPuMdaxvgY1Hgq8Xvi_B2aVTxYYbXj5KHCMqYo19KXShKkX_fvBT6gZr6UegK7sxq_AoC7pg1FoBFJV2s-UwaEf1RuNmLhkY_qScZ_UvMJXAANrY4Wa0Ja7cs9r9ZLvYg/s400/cat.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547661998204762066" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisM6rtfOiHdwBmUgg3A7joZ-1Wo7Typ9rB3aDITQoQb40yg5q5fZDz0p7UUHmMw0olca4s_rLtScIi0wDiDpNUz6xelAfrQDyXFd5iRSpXgfAsAh39qQB3HjJV9V2865ckT57Tf5LktWlm/s1600/3.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 296px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisM6rtfOiHdwBmUgg3A7joZ-1Wo7Typ9rB3aDITQoQb40yg5q5fZDz0p7UUHmMw0olca4s_rLtScIi0wDiDpNUz6xelAfrQDyXFd5iRSpXgfAsAh39qQB3HjJV9V2865ckT57Tf5LktWlm/s400/3.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547661980328459378" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqsj-YnVjIQr6_H8Uho-OvxoceXsE5Yz1N8Pvanwh4qoFSkIwlJ5T6A_cPgfYWtD8_5TXKbG_NssWKKGJY1qsurCtO1t253ACvo4yA7Tw2fEUCkCC9Qs5iQurIsWaQUxNYALZ-wkhZAzse/s1600/4.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 311px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqsj-YnVjIQr6_H8Uho-OvxoceXsE5Yz1N8Pvanwh4qoFSkIwlJ5T6A_cPgfYWtD8_5TXKbG_NssWKKGJY1qsurCtO1t253ACvo4yA7Tw2fEUCkCC9Qs5iQurIsWaQUxNYALZ-wkhZAzse/s400/4.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547661982465153842" border="0" /></a>Learn this lesson once and once only: cats are assholes. They will let you pet them, but they will demand a blood sacrifice from your face (for more reference, click <a href="http://www.catswhothrowupgrass.com/kill.php">here</a>).<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lesson #3: Get out of the car feet first, not head first.</span><br /><br />Knowing every person in my family ever, you are going to be extremely brilliant only to be marred by your extreme stubbornness. I'm just going to tell you right now, your parents will need to help you with things for the rest of your life, and you're just going to suck it up and let your mom and dad help you out.<br /><br />I first learned this lesson when I was 2. This is actually my first memory. We had an old 1988 <a href="http://www.cruisersrock.com/gallery/jkerr5.jpg">Toyota Land Cruiser</a>, and it was awesome. The car is about 2 ft. off the ground, and, well, for a 2 year old, that's a long way to fall.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0N9lxOUK0F-pcuq4mFlMdKNByzx4VUyQoouU7QT2fqVxyFHervEqH85F2OjTU9zQiPiMzoHQ0PTr7ei86K44eX7NcTMVmMIz_74edWXWJxYc0ksTSlVYam0Z8VZxQFvS3pJlMN-z7jAoj/s1600/1.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 279px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0N9lxOUK0F-pcuq4mFlMdKNByzx4VUyQoouU7QT2fqVxyFHervEqH85F2OjTU9zQiPiMzoHQ0PTr7ei86K44eX7NcTMVmMIz_74edWXWJxYc0ksTSlVYam0Z8VZxQFvS3pJlMN-z7jAoj/s400/1.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547674491398652194" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkYPItY7N8irGWWSl-KOftURtCo34YwN-ZIOTPGvNP31AVJzWvQa3y8Yz-1RQWo86EO8uqZeQE-L9vUfoJUHa-kZMCARPh57CVxXpCuarq6BhIRrv9N9i2YS0T_fv8_nDjvqPn6Zl7TrxK/s1600/2.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 279px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkYPItY7N8irGWWSl-KOftURtCo34YwN-ZIOTPGvNP31AVJzWvQa3y8Yz-1RQWo86EO8uqZeQE-L9vUfoJUHa-kZMCARPh57CVxXpCuarq6BhIRrv9N9i2YS0T_fv8_nDjvqPn6Zl7TrxK/s400/2.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547674495868412434" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3GYHs4XXeGPdEUEpcox0AnzR-KiPmZ7nbYHK7czIq-THHGYZSE5tslGpP6fusSgBnNLEq8Ci0Z_XWz3Vm19n5bqvwdC-ZtLdTpCEf6SEtOYLKbW0clsyxc8rGs0rC_KmfMCWhQjy8RIZ3/s1600/3.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 279px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3GYHs4XXeGPdEUEpcox0AnzR-KiPmZ7nbYHK7czIq-THHGYZSE5tslGpP6fusSgBnNLEq8Ci0Z_XWz3Vm19n5bqvwdC-ZtLdTpCEf6SEtOYLKbW0clsyxc8rGs0rC_KmfMCWhQjy8RIZ3/s400/3.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547674503999034002" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaH8tq3F1aYJ6NvuqjJv0SW37po4iznwOdL7JSozo7vsYlhCQPelMnMC-ZqBNsP-JeKPvSCYxkTAkUO0lyourM6P7y_ri44I6UEcywP0frrrLO3BbSZVFxZiQoSy_NAM7-FMqDNvOEEcEr/s1600/4.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 279px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaH8tq3F1aYJ6NvuqjJv0SW37po4iznwOdL7JSozo7vsYlhCQPelMnMC-ZqBNsP-JeKPvSCYxkTAkUO0lyourM6P7y_ri44I6UEcywP0frrrLO3BbSZVFxZiQoSy_NAM7-FMqDNvOEEcEr/s400/4.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547674506234902866" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbWP9vHVYTdmpZYfYwJLuKuylC-NvpXnmWtPivAgpt4LLoNbrGo_UalnryBnXAjMJY_e1T2bS8OGcXN99SceJBbIr8twaYKP1dg1aNm5a5m_iU-s4-UWeyahX66KBCEDDJr9D1sZNWqbEx/s1600/5.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 279px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbWP9vHVYTdmpZYfYwJLuKuylC-NvpXnmWtPivAgpt4LLoNbrGo_UalnryBnXAjMJY_e1T2bS8OGcXN99SceJBbIr8twaYKP1dg1aNm5a5m_iU-s4-UWeyahX66KBCEDDJr9D1sZNWqbEx/s400/5.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547674510741400258" border="0" /></a>And that's how I got my first visit to the ER.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lesson #4: Be careful who you hit.</span><br /><br />When you finally learn how to stop jumping out of cars and how to drive them, be sure to be careful on the roads. But, if you have to hit somebody with your car, make sure it's not one of your classmates, otherwise, high school is going to be hell for you.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpW8gfbb8tZ5GOppoylm-7O11PcdFiVPdaDyyvc1EO3A2Xfw9plmMxEB6TPdCTmLxX4wyYSaqq3Mj8iEC02M2-9G8BwUj5CZ7fBCkSJtKyC_4823WwXF0SYJUkkOqbocmzt-V1rrxz0SfO/s1600/david.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 279px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpW8gfbb8tZ5GOppoylm-7O11PcdFiVPdaDyyvc1EO3A2Xfw9plmMxEB6TPdCTmLxX4wyYSaqq3Mj8iEC02M2-9G8BwUj5CZ7fBCkSJtKyC_4823WwXF0SYJUkkOqbocmzt-V1rrxz0SfO/s400/david.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547678746292705442" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lesson #5: High school sucks.</span><br /><span style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Buttons"><span class=" on down" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_CreateLink" title="Link" onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);FormatbarButton('richeditorframe', this, 8);ButtonMouseDown(this);"><img src="http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" alt="Link" class="gl_link" border="0" /></span></span>L-Bohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13139147540677465999noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222302061737456.post-35537148986219862402010-12-02T08:32:00.000-08:002010-12-02T16:08:51.481-08:00My Two Greatest FearsSo, I haven't updated in a while. Here are my excuses in order of how legit they are:<br /><br />1. I was at my parent's house for Thanksgiving and they don't have MS paint on their computers, so I can't do pictures. Let's face it, no one reads this blog for the writing, they read it for the pictures.<br /><br />2. Work is somewhat busy again. I had to manage the grade sheets, and managing grade sheets at a school like this one is kind of like being the body guard of not necessarily the president, but at least Nancy Pelosi. My desk kind of looks like this:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheKXg1Pw7zJP0bs05L-eVusRVinfMVLfDtkehfoTjR07U5x115sJhZ1IwibczLJf4xG5lCwjKmljh6dMPX3dyIIG0TWq509UITybMUCVAvZuPSBQ2b62N1rEdSSXjMpM6le_u1pb87Da9V/s1600/desk.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 345px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheKXg1Pw7zJP0bs05L-eVusRVinfMVLfDtkehfoTjR07U5x115sJhZ1IwibczLJf4xG5lCwjKmljh6dMPX3dyIIG0TWq509UITybMUCVAvZuPSBQ2b62N1rEdSSXjMpM6le_u1pb87Da9V/s400/desk.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546155115457392706" border="0" /></a>I guess some student a few years ago decided to steal a grade sheet and fill in their own grade, so the sheets are closely guarded. I would love to meet the idiot that stole the math sheets and thought "Oh yeah! I'm totally going to get away with this!" I thought math majors were supposed to be smart.<br /><br />Anyway, on with the entry!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrgONgUHlYMoJAQTZF9gWX2_KwHK3LRqbE5kthtJA9uFSrRKZFN0uEs822_X-GHrnxJ_J9VNRh6B-0pkqe3cBVLyGQMyi0ZfLC8oI9uN6Jf0vn3NT8qXwgFD-PCllhZmwAG2FnxRJQyM5G/s1600/polaroid.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 345px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrgONgUHlYMoJAQTZF9gWX2_KwHK3LRqbE5kthtJA9uFSrRKZFN0uEs822_X-GHrnxJ_J9VNRh6B-0pkqe3cBVLyGQMyi0ZfLC8oI9uN6Jf0vn3NT8qXwgFD-PCllhZmwAG2FnxRJQyM5G/s400/polaroid.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546155752639923122" border="0" /></a>When I was little, I wasn't afraid of much, but there were two really stupid things that scared me:<br /><br />1. There was this terrifying commercial about skin cancer when I was a kid. It featured a woman in a tanning bed in a bikini with goggles on. First of all, I hate the way tanning goggles look. They look weird. Anyway, then the woman would slowly turn into a turkey, who was also wearing the goggles and bikini. It was terrifying, and I remember crying and burying my face in my mom's shoulder when it came on TV.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT_dd78fU7bc5t2kkskRnD82HPi6xV2Bpn_9JKqzvR5oBO5JcU2M6qG8w5bdtwJzLkikBVubaQ7GMMtFvYLdgZOId846KSzusUKJOEuEEVrPbsoMQxpkyphnF1JjN4hC2Ia1xmSLXXV-aH/s1600/tanning.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 317px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT_dd78fU7bc5t2kkskRnD82HPi6xV2Bpn_9JKqzvR5oBO5JcU2M6qG8w5bdtwJzLkikBVubaQ7GMMtFvYLdgZOId846KSzusUKJOEuEEVrPbsoMQxpkyphnF1JjN4hC2Ia1xmSLXXV-aH/s400/tanning.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546160820121221666" border="0" /></a>2. The buzzing noise from the game "Operation". I don't know why, but this noise would terrify me. Unfortunately, I didn't know the sound was so scary until I owned the game. Let me tell you how the game "Operation" came into my possession.<br /><br />I think everyone has a really dumb year. I started my 4th year by eating dog vomit which kind of set the mood for the rest of the year. I've had a lot of dumb years, but my 4th year takes the cake.<br /><br />The majority of my childhood was spent in the craft room with my mom. She would make us clothes and sew quilts and knit stockings a do bead-work because she's a badass. While she was crafting, Kelly and I got the scraps of fabric and Pearler beads to play with. Pearler beads look like this:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieFp6rknypaEuz6_mpjGWTQWj7k1kQ3-Km3aVO-XyAZgSELSErTSO0a2iCZVkFOES8kF19gDgc7kNWp-n-4ZMaQIcPZKJFL14hIJ_WOO3yY1f9Wgl0qavSfp0Utctq3XOXrx-GjMhcgEv2/s1600/perler+bucket.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 310px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieFp6rknypaEuz6_mpjGWTQWj7k1kQ3-Km3aVO-XyAZgSELSErTSO0a2iCZVkFOES8kF19gDgc7kNWp-n-4ZMaQIcPZKJFL14hIJ_WOO3yY1f9Wgl0qavSfp0Utctq3XOXrx-GjMhcgEv2/s400/perler+bucket.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546164684177320914" border="0" /></a>And you use them to make things that look like this:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUVfkjjccGcNnhYJsV9WzXbmngA2gMkNe7HFQUXvjawv8siXBJU5TeGkVaU9I770QcZL3gw9-1OpJ8DtotPOofUGWGe6v6FTRZQcOHa_s-_VeRgVaejyn7fbefMJ_HvOV1yoTX6QTrDkON/s1600/perler_bead_art.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 276px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUVfkjjccGcNnhYJsV9WzXbmngA2gMkNe7HFQUXvjawv8siXBJU5TeGkVaU9I770QcZL3gw9-1OpJ8DtotPOofUGWGe6v6FTRZQcOHa_s-_VeRgVaejyn7fbefMJ_HvOV1yoTX6QTrDkON/s400/perler_bead_art.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546164688276264866" border="0" /></a>The only problem with giving 4 year-olds Pearler beads is that they will try to stick them in their mouths or noses as soon as your back is turned. Don't believe the "Ages 3 and Up!" sticker. Your 4 year-old is just as stupid as a 2 year-old.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxeKuMEPC9dp-SkWXQ5BYZiWBxzQzY8KgNpxYdEIss0FXpdlep9Nfq6U7U0Bs3mDB7-8LG29iKKDdd8zH4u1nZTEz4oZ7QwT69fyHcemDdtOS_DFJRb8WWzVL_7bq-Rg8UU17lGVbhIuLl/s1600/1.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 382px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxeKuMEPC9dp-SkWXQ5BYZiWBxzQzY8KgNpxYdEIss0FXpdlep9Nfq6U7U0Bs3mDB7-8LG29iKKDdd8zH4u1nZTEz4oZ7QwT69fyHcemDdtOS_DFJRb8WWzVL_7bq-Rg8UU17lGVbhIuLl/s400/1.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546175044851350610" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhleyC7B8Sn_QzgcWxONTxfdBhFIt2quNscCExOxxcDepUIQKK0eU_-qirmZ12rXSKJGQ3HJdHqanUtZMdxHhrv_4fMdifDHs-tMYB2doOMhxMOHYrc8XPprwK-Laxe0LFSxAqWHGdL5-aW/s1600/2.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 382px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhleyC7B8Sn_QzgcWxONTxfdBhFIt2quNscCExOxxcDepUIQKK0eU_-qirmZ12rXSKJGQ3HJdHqanUtZMdxHhrv_4fMdifDHs-tMYB2doOMhxMOHYrc8XPprwK-Laxe0LFSxAqWHGdL5-aW/s400/2.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546175049877019106" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhRKALzdasT6BaJ1ho7LuKpw-iAvn-xn4I_8deIfYKm5jhbGmvtxTZr7xv2Gb-cLPpsgvjD2mgs3IJrdo3kqmm8kQ3zaNeo3KSM60kcQShsRrjihZocdVEqVPsspwBN8fQNDwoFVwNborh/s1600/3.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 382px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhRKALzdasT6BaJ1ho7LuKpw-iAvn-xn4I_8deIfYKm5jhbGmvtxTZr7xv2Gb-cLPpsgvjD2mgs3IJrdo3kqmm8kQ3zaNeo3KSM60kcQShsRrjihZocdVEqVPsspwBN8fQNDwoFVwNborh/s400/3.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546175054542960722" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhELUP1OH0kOsvn8bBLHaRK6ia8D6fvJOOTOvqYkIMG3RjRwJ6PKflDMLx6QZE0pxAf7xlrAGtBWLLehlQD8LWccWhqIuJIU1EPUWrzbk-u-8b4Km3D4QAbRdxEKnpa6eZrWHeNzy9-xSDQ/s1600/4.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 382px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhELUP1OH0kOsvn8bBLHaRK6ia8D6fvJOOTOvqYkIMG3RjRwJ6PKflDMLx6QZE0pxAf7xlrAGtBWLLehlQD8LWccWhqIuJIU1EPUWrzbk-u-8b4Km3D4QAbRdxEKnpa6eZrWHeNzy9-xSDQ/s400/4.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546175061142419794" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUygE0a5t9AV3Q6G9-YX89ncLsalC2mz9ke15Eh52F8DE_Xp676EvyFnTcX_SpY8dGWJ1SDnrnoOcC1i2mP_QHTvFbkzNBTT3V5QDKxdZ_6D7cWk6qeE2XazO0diHeHeHvVEj4vsaqt4rp/s1600/5.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 382px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUygE0a5t9AV3Q6G9-YX89ncLsalC2mz9ke15Eh52F8DE_Xp676EvyFnTcX_SpY8dGWJ1SDnrnoOcC1i2mP_QHTvFbkzNBTT3V5QDKxdZ_6D7cWk6qeE2XazO0diHeHeHvVEj4vsaqt4rp/s400/5.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546175065100994674" border="0" /></a>Thankfully, my dad was on call at the hospital. I had lodged the bead so far into my nasal cavity that she had to drive me in to get my dad to grab some really long tweezers and get the bead. Mom had our neighbor watch Kelly while she drove my dumb ass to the hospital.<br /><br />I already had one parent really mad at me, so I sat really still and was good for my dad while he shoved the jaws of life up my nose.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsTtOhEthjZMHQZh12XvL1CVIK42Vt658pEaq94WBuDuH37XGTioarGAoEWTd8zBOiIpKhcx_IJ7cngL9dZd4jkoG4SmnNe3Pr_kd2CHjOZw4y9BRopH_P8HxrDFnGFvk1io5trvcoyFBG/s1600/hospital.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 382px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsTtOhEthjZMHQZh12XvL1CVIK42Vt658pEaq94WBuDuH37XGTioarGAoEWTd8zBOiIpKhcx_IJ7cngL9dZd4jkoG4SmnNe3Pr_kd2CHjOZw4y9BRopH_P8HxrDFnGFvk1io5trvcoyFBG/s400/hospital.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546225154548813410" border="0" /></a>After that, my mom took me to the store to get a present for sitting so still. I don't know why I got a present. I should shove things up my nose more often I guess.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEsnBA5W0YXE-UsUi7lyPzGPmM3hfaAH5qpl6K990hvsDgBqov1XddLYEQFgIPKRM5b0hRH1eVFUcwKBdvYUGY5aUwBmp1EEa_fot7uctpz68tFC8_9XUEj_C5Y0ebnV6DBugZ8sg6NoF0/s1600/game.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 336px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEsnBA5W0YXE-UsUi7lyPzGPmM3hfaAH5qpl6K990hvsDgBqov1XddLYEQFgIPKRM5b0hRH1eVFUcwKBdvYUGY5aUwBmp1EEa_fot7uctpz68tFC8_9XUEj_C5Y0ebnV6DBugZ8sg6NoF0/s400/game.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546218334899595650" border="0" /></a>Mom bought me Operation, and there was still time to play a game before she put Kelly and I to bed. We started playing it when disaster struck:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiURHqRUIQdPVIn3qXSp0suK80HgkPITXI9kMMWILhj1gMwthkM-kT03K1S-urZ5fnE8Z5PZT1j5lGxmkQnaPkIsfTTUfQvGWAWjQ7L3bME7JNBz0bSbqkVLxxcmX3OFdifx-JZ7itdrhBI/s1600/game3.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 336px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiURHqRUIQdPVIn3qXSp0suK80HgkPITXI9kMMWILhj1gMwthkM-kT03K1S-urZ5fnE8Z5PZT1j5lGxmkQnaPkIsfTTUfQvGWAWjQ7L3bME7JNBz0bSbqkVLxxcmX3OFdifx-JZ7itdrhBI/s400/game3.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546223714770565922" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU4lUJbbgKylW27TEQT667KmO8JBXrdZ2oVcc-DlC0etrQ9v2HGpYzPbRiyBCJJxFEguTx1EGnGoM7Pqgb8ipl7Afm-mmCEtYeN13MAVDec0aBNgc6W9s5QpamgDdLJRhJJv6reT2PRMKc/s1600/game4.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 336px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU4lUJbbgKylW27TEQT667KmO8JBXrdZ2oVcc-DlC0etrQ9v2HGpYzPbRiyBCJJxFEguTx1EGnGoM7Pqgb8ipl7Afm-mmCEtYeN13MAVDec0aBNgc6W9s5QpamgDdLJRhJJv6reT2PRMKc/s400/game4.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546223719167755634" border="0" /></a>I ran behind a chair and started crying. It didn't hurt, and it wasn't that loud, but it scared the hell out of me. Mom thought maybe it shocked me, but then she figured out I was just being a psycho.<br /><br />It's kind of funny because my family never liked cats because they're stupid and scared of random stuff. Who knew that having a second child would be like owning a psychotic feline.<br /><br />After that day, my mom kept the Pearler beads away from me and made sure that I was out of the room when she and Kelly played Operation. Kelly was not so nice. She would sneak up behind the couch when I was watching TV and make the buzzing noise. What a jerk.<br /><br />I found out later the reason my mom wasn't that mad about the whole bead thing was because when she was little she shoved a Hi-Ho Cherry-O up her nose when she was little and got it stuck. Then in college, she shoved a popcorn kernel up her nose and got it stuck. Apparently I'm genetically predisposed to getting crap stuck in my nose.L-Bohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13139147540677465999noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222302061737456.post-88541382988626327012010-11-22T09:12:00.000-08:002010-11-22T13:08:14.788-08:00Stitches and Stale BreadSorry I didn't update on Friday. It was the last day of Freshman registration, which meant we were busy all day long. According to my tally, I helped 135 students, took 60 phone calls, dealt with 2 angry parents and was called a racist once.<br /><br />Today, however, it is snowing, which means nothing can dampen my mood. Despite crashing twice on my bicycle commute to work, the promise of watching a movie with hot cocoa and my hot boyfriend later means I will be in the best of moods all day. Snow also means that very few students are going to brave the weather and come into the office, so as a special snow day treat, I am going to tell you another story of my childhood.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbI2B0DrdYUQyp7QjvH_cqJro-nU5UsPqYUjXzxk5PohyXZ_1kdN_4QPNXyvDZwWEIc8Ej4g6AKo53pijJiTFMU3UcT8FTagwonutus1rHJz7pFnJ2ciVn5gR43j9-jHz_n2h4T0XFhoyR/s1600/polaroid.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 351px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbI2B0DrdYUQyp7QjvH_cqJro-nU5UsPqYUjXzxk5PohyXZ_1kdN_4QPNXyvDZwWEIc8Ej4g6AKo53pijJiTFMU3UcT8FTagwonutus1rHJz7pFnJ2ciVn5gR43j9-jHz_n2h4T0XFhoyR/s400/polaroid.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542427463688163042" border="0" /></a>I have had two surgeries in my life, and both occurred within a month of each other.<br /><br />1st Surgery:<br /><br />Growing up, I would choke on just about everything: salad, pasta, meat, bread, crackers, cheese, and yes, even dog vomit. My parents always insisted that I slow down and chew my food. While they were completely correct, I was eating too fast, there was another reason behind my constant choking:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp-PPxcsGEVmz92B_33X7IaNPxge6AkdTCYzY9X-CQnDtppByKtmC9GDYmaPJEwJ9N4NYSNP_HXJlW4SEExNhj4QsISHcrjldgnZoXyBjxczY2za0Miy3hj6dYPm_R996MGn3oDQ_GbA0y/s1600/tonsils.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp-PPxcsGEVmz92B_33X7IaNPxge6AkdTCYzY9X-CQnDtppByKtmC9GDYmaPJEwJ9N4NYSNP_HXJlW4SEExNhj4QsISHcrjldgnZoXyBjxczY2za0Miy3hj6dYPm_R996MGn3oDQ_GbA0y/s400/tonsils.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542430304746360146" border="0" /></a>I never noticed my tonsils were anything out of the ordinary, I just assumed I was as inept at eating as I was with every other normal, human activity. One day though, I got an extremely sore throat, and after a few days of whining and refusing to take Dimetapp, my mom took me to the ear nose and throat doctor. He looked at my throat and told my mom I needed my tonsils out right away.<br /><br />A few weeks later, I not only got my tonsils removed, but my <a href="http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/ency/images/ency/fullsize/19259.jpg">adenoids</a> as well. I spent about a week strung out on coedine, then got back to school. I don't remember much about that week, but I remember having to watch the movie "Josie and the Pussycats" 6 or 7 times to pick up on the subtleties of the plot.<br /><br />As far as my tonsils went, I wanted to keep them, but I guess they don't let you do that anymore. My mom said the doctor was gagging throughout the surgery because of how disgusting my cystic, enlarged tonsils were. Not only am I bad at being a human being, but my tonsils were bad at being tonsils.<br /><br />2nd Surgery:<br /><br />I was a pretty stupid kid (if you are incredulous, click <a href="http://funemployed-life.blogspot.com/2010/11/my-4-year-old-birthday-party-true-story.html">here</a>). Unfortunately, even after puberty, I still had a knack to injure or partially maim myself. This is one such instance.<br /><br />I was 13 and a half, and my sister was 15 and a half. When you're 15 and a half in Washington, you get your driver's permit, which is just another way of saying you get a license to kill. Anyway, on a lazy Sunday morning, mom and dad decided Kelly should get some more driving practice, so they were going to go to Costco. Mom asked me if I wanted to go, but I just wanted to stay home and read Harry Potter in bed because I'm awesome.<br /><br />Pretty soon after they left, I decided it was a good idea to eat a little something. We had stale bread sitting around, and that's as good as anything for a sandwich. Especially because I was excited to eat bread again after my tonsil surgery. I hated Popsicles at this point, and I still do today.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk7zsILm7nHv30Op2ewwRf3DVfBScSg74-wWgCQczV-s8_bLUk0WR4a-9-oQQvLXukwLACDINHYmzEgx3Rz35PZm1XSEhlXmcKZA6qsSs1i_T4jCpZw_CHLBYLumU42cYDytlgK_pq2-Ld/s1600/bread+and+popsicles.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 209px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk7zsILm7nHv30Op2ewwRf3DVfBScSg74-wWgCQczV-s8_bLUk0WR4a-9-oQQvLXukwLACDINHYmzEgx3Rz35PZm1XSEhlXmcKZA6qsSs1i_T4jCpZw_CHLBYLumU42cYDytlgK_pq2-Ld/s400/bread+and+popsicles.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542440102998923954" border="0" /></a>I suppose I should say before the action begins that my sister's friend Stevie was trying to make some money, so he started selling Cutco knives during the summer. My parents bought some, so we had many new, sharp knives around the house (you can probably see where this is going). I was using the nice, new serrated knife to get through the stale crust of the bread when disaster struck.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjR4VD1X9M482PQSgZq9TWSlGS32PpAujaJOrYdWJFniJ48ISAxWynAMSgoq3WpN1rccrZKbfWOuQeXrfzffP4fBGIv6bsmAlF1L6EXr6URUW6SNLOkEIqqRrdBZtuO8xviGzWc9xe4wfa/s1600/precut.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 393px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjR4VD1X9M482PQSgZq9TWSlGS32PpAujaJOrYdWJFniJ48ISAxWynAMSgoq3WpN1rccrZKbfWOuQeXrfzffP4fBGIv6bsmAlF1L6EXr6URUW6SNLOkEIqqRrdBZtuO8xviGzWc9xe4wfa/s400/precut.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542449992541084434" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_MxWbRIqARS4RBZIHIOmkzWDEQgwR7k7U_fxfMpa0PwURP36d8X8jOD083hL9NKW-DTpfiIEXNUp1MpGo0hR1nJJ3hjo0ezC9Yqgg0xqsDJ-gnOQrrHK-UZNH43vDBY893XyjAlfKO78N/s1600/postcut.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 393px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_MxWbRIqARS4RBZIHIOmkzWDEQgwR7k7U_fxfMpa0PwURP36d8X8jOD083hL9NKW-DTpfiIEXNUp1MpGo0hR1nJJ3hjo0ezC9Yqgg0xqsDJ-gnOQrrHK-UZNH43vDBY893XyjAlfKO78N/s400/postcut.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542449998652430578" border="0" /></a>I cut most of the way through my thumb, directly at the joint. After a bunch of running around the kitchen, I calmed down and ran my finger under water and called my parents. I don't think my dad understood anything I was saying, but he knew he needed to come home.<br /><br />Recall that my sister was driving. My sister is an excellent driver, but anyone would have a hard time driving with your father yelling out new driving directions at you. I imagine the car ride went something like this:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYNJQgtn2Vxdcz-RNdzeTs9LqwUeTqHEctoxD3J1NpWTW3wwwfnroOdwIp8S4tyjEAbg1rBJjTG8ClUTLtfm2bSdxY2LWMIcpZfsmQCnfImL77YsogZzanZHIImE2leCy6EV2VN0EAKbmX/s1600/1.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 337px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYNJQgtn2Vxdcz-RNdzeTs9LqwUeTqHEctoxD3J1NpWTW3wwwfnroOdwIp8S4tyjEAbg1rBJjTG8ClUTLtfm2bSdxY2LWMIcpZfsmQCnfImL77YsogZzanZHIImE2leCy6EV2VN0EAKbmX/s400/1.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542465665374282690" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKnouYsZPnmWdjudBeFz3xttaow6zHfFKVmEi3Z93qlj98fQDTR62PHT0jEkalSWHcpXz7E0qEs5COretksNcdyIlC2_85dMh-PsAucKepfIdeZSsrmPpWyt-WHTuW67RyAf0omtVUm4d-/s1600/2.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 337px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKnouYsZPnmWdjudBeFz3xttaow6zHfFKVmEi3Z93qlj98fQDTR62PHT0jEkalSWHcpXz7E0qEs5COretksNcdyIlC2_85dMh-PsAucKepfIdeZSsrmPpWyt-WHTuW67RyAf0omtVUm4d-/s400/2.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542465673557146194" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi12HYWCVALg6R_gSxCsArDiSfmpMWGJRg6wRspfDpOUcflwyikyRXTO4q_0xrB8-E_exJI9w9FC4boXCNt5FhnYtIBBIvqIZPSn2l7fQFWM1tINfPAnB0oJMRsgrpkpRbwwRdu6xvDH0Cg/s1600/3.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 337px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi12HYWCVALg6R_gSxCsArDiSfmpMWGJRg6wRspfDpOUcflwyikyRXTO4q_0xrB8-E_exJI9w9FC4boXCNt5FhnYtIBBIvqIZPSn2l7fQFWM1tINfPAnB0oJMRsgrpkpRbwwRdu6xvDH0Cg/s400/3.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542465682773391906" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk40hO4o3lw6FqxEMcUbsKokHC27RD6x7wLyxLxp1jN2XNlBOKaAK_D9luqTQTmBsf7HvfgcYVU9DucZD0Qp0NAHRkcZVnrKKMkhREvhKdDziqMiifvcwTfXsGN2Atx4Y7KX7KB9Aj9ZB0/s1600/4.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 337px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk40hO4o3lw6FqxEMcUbsKokHC27RD6x7wLyxLxp1jN2XNlBOKaAK_D9luqTQTmBsf7HvfgcYVU9DucZD0Qp0NAHRkcZVnrKKMkhREvhKdDziqMiifvcwTfXsGN2Atx4Y7KX7KB9Aj9ZB0/s400/4.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542465687930211922" border="0" /></a>Meanwhile, at home, I had passed out on the floor, giving myself a black eye:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi21ist0HZZXiOxe5At0GB7FLFoW3DZCWHGUSp44rr0a7KzgdDNmlEujKNuheCYhoR2TWOwGys3_UaaOv4XmyjX0NlOJ0Zu4z3XECikEtyApZhMvXFxZtHCgROA9hmeOTRHGDRySJPmYNv7/s1600/eye.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi21ist0HZZXiOxe5At0GB7FLFoW3DZCWHGUSp44rr0a7KzgdDNmlEujKNuheCYhoR2TWOwGys3_UaaOv4XmyjX0NlOJ0Zu4z3XECikEtyApZhMvXFxZtHCgROA9hmeOTRHGDRySJPmYNv7/s400/eye.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542480123812284626" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-VOb4oRh2I7X4DIBZzgWfF9cn-cIddDcURXSOFQSQNSasue0iJjyBj1JFIcSIfGWV1Hvqv6UVGY1qHaJ8FbRlxFN66LMOhli1fcaldlgGRgtwUH5QcLWw3Vq96qtjK3JIG5XI5dIIyvqe/s1600/eye2.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-VOb4oRh2I7X4DIBZzgWfF9cn-cIddDcURXSOFQSQNSasue0iJjyBj1JFIcSIfGWV1Hvqv6UVGY1qHaJ8FbRlxFN66LMOhli1fcaldlgGRgtwUH5QcLWw3Vq96qtjK3JIG5XI5dIIyvqe/s400/eye2.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542480122256235954" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW3UuNF2iCR1tctpuOrUbBbcDOSTeGdISLa1zLuhtdL9M7pirzdmXol_0Agr1odo7F7DEDWn9HxPCOogWkJNbGYsjCs7MBXOC9vh8pBWDa47Xl0O80DRvPqx3b9MRnna0GufM9IT4OpiQe/s1600/eye3.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW3UuNF2iCR1tctpuOrUbBbcDOSTeGdISLa1zLuhtdL9M7pirzdmXol_0Agr1odo7F7DEDWn9HxPCOogWkJNbGYsjCs7MBXOC9vh8pBWDa47Xl0O80DRvPqx3b9MRnna0GufM9IT4OpiQe/s400/eye3.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542480151264445890" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrN1HGxuZr_gUdpljyJjeNsYC6FR1ENPqsfXodlFmxWUo2Azs6q-IszA8h39ynNPbU0Eu563tTo0J2WxRO5ambVMJ-dac3Z6PIsDtL8XlzumZadJLR7AmQYNcTTIn1Fr2PKETQQbQmJAmC/s1600/eye4.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrN1HGxuZr_gUdpljyJjeNsYC6FR1ENPqsfXodlFmxWUo2Azs6q-IszA8h39ynNPbU0Eu563tTo0J2WxRO5ambVMJ-dac3Z6PIsDtL8XlzumZadJLR7AmQYNcTTIn1Fr2PKETQQbQmJAmC/s400/eye4.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542480161233435010" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr7aFOnfcc2pKPfviThsTNaiNoTTO0K3NQjfGzb31Thk9Z30ZS10UM4C_wl3pQxvTiTZfiGYJ-xKyhl0CAIyxaFmXJCqaSSyYdQwPeI-Bel6IcBlR-xR-TNoEEP1DoieOIsMrkhi_Dksm9/s1600/eye5.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr7aFOnfcc2pKPfviThsTNaiNoTTO0K3NQjfGzb31Thk9Z30ZS10UM4C_wl3pQxvTiTZfiGYJ-xKyhl0CAIyxaFmXJCqaSSyYdQwPeI-Bel6IcBlR-xR-TNoEEP1DoieOIsMrkhi_Dksm9/s400/eye5.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542480164168301186" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin2SwgkhcRlH95oA7fS3lI4fuYW0OOhea-Wgh8gaPY1q6HZqHYP5sULJzGEngqyCoo-JPj7AO-8B2ECiX344KgA01sI-ca1Uly3LHM7zAppKb50xydosP0JYMvLBIBdB3MajUSLq9BV5jA/s1600/wakeup.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 339px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin2SwgkhcRlH95oA7fS3lI4fuYW0OOhea-Wgh8gaPY1q6HZqHYP5sULJzGEngqyCoo-JPj7AO-8B2ECiX344KgA01sI-ca1Uly3LHM7zAppKb50xydosP0JYMvLBIBdB3MajUSLq9BV5jA/s400/wakeup.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542480481441295106" border="0" /></a>My parents soon came home to what looked like a scene out of "Freddy vs. Jason". Fingers don't look like it, but they bleed a lot.<br /><br />They took me to the ER and I got taken care of. I cut the tendon cleanly in half, so I had to get surgery so I could bend my thumb again. Afterward, they put a pin down my thumb to keep me from bending it for the next 3 months, and that's how I got to get out of playing piano for the winter of my 8th grade year.<br /><br />If this story wasn't entertaining enough, here's a picture of my mom with a 12 lb. steelhead she caught because she's a badass:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhof1EbuYQmVOtMILyHCDusNjlIyRIFcsm3btjSjXd_WdncEaVqqHdxsZzGEQQbzoAVnnswKUlipBPcN3YduFxIkAE-EQQ_Opcu8a6qtIiXNXaz8h8MwMf1QBNFJRFkKByIp1Jznm6mMVXQ/s1600/fish.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhof1EbuYQmVOtMILyHCDusNjlIyRIFcsm3btjSjXd_WdncEaVqqHdxsZzGEQQbzoAVnnswKUlipBPcN3YduFxIkAE-EQQ_Opcu8a6qtIiXNXaz8h8MwMf1QBNFJRFkKByIp1Jznm6mMVXQ/s400/fish.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542481667170383682" border="0" /></a>L-Bohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13139147540677465999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222302061737456.post-56501089950155789912010-11-18T12:44:00.001-08:002010-11-18T13:51:08.238-08:00Freshman RegistrationToday is the first day of registration for Freshman. They are all very good at throwing fits and yelling at me. I am getting progressively better at telling people "No". I also am getting extremely good at not swearing when I really want to, but I think I'm getting stomach ulcers as a consequence.<br /><br />How the Freshman make me feel:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJHvZSyQP48zoMn_k2_-_Xy71ycK2ivkLYG1_5LCQvPNPuDr-ybBnyIzJRXiCeNsB_Jz7HwFf9p7eUQLr1sp_4fOo12GnO-I8Fh64aCD9sp1fIh0nKtTlrgMuiOD2EQS07hW4B5J7XaFVV/s1600/CALC.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 329px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJHvZSyQP48zoMn_k2_-_Xy71ycK2ivkLYG1_5LCQvPNPuDr-ybBnyIzJRXiCeNsB_Jz7HwFf9p7eUQLr1sp_4fOo12GnO-I8Fh64aCD9sp1fIh0nKtTlrgMuiOD2EQS07hW4B5J7XaFVV/s400/CALC.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541010228250465378" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFE85fbEEO-ExtcIZ4YqUXbUrdUt7H_YwKaj2eaLzGbF-OI_7OxvbsdHddSYQaXfliQ5hfMQQtlrcPiTr4N1nnbY_1gY7Hug10dqCbHbtGXg-fObWLm3E3VpLIJDs1Q9CIjX7PL3uXeUZD/s1600/TRANSFER.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 329px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFE85fbEEO-ExtcIZ4YqUXbUrdUt7H_YwKaj2eaLzGbF-OI_7OxvbsdHddSYQaXfliQ5hfMQQtlrcPiTr4N1nnbY_1gY7Hug10dqCbHbtGXg-fObWLm3E3VpLIJDs1Q9CIjX7PL3uXeUZD/s400/TRANSFER.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541010235040379170" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1lC5lqyib2EtSuRtV0rHrnMB9tSbEoLO5xbxQ8A4tMDbK5Edj6TvrZJtV2HUb6bHlc_9trXEtirkyPLdpiOJ6vdO03PwYk4pKjuBWSi7UuFf6dnwbNEKZ2amiTc-diZJX_2W16kouEeVW/s1600/gasoline.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 329px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1lC5lqyib2EtSuRtV0rHrnMB9tSbEoLO5xbxQ8A4tMDbK5Edj6TvrZJtV2HUb6bHlc_9trXEtirkyPLdpiOJ6vdO03PwYk4pKjuBWSi7UuFf6dnwbNEKZ2amiTc-diZJX_2W16kouEeVW/s400/gasoline.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541010240433462386" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPlkIIQLv3fz0YxHkc4cF6y9AQ55qd6dabTe-2SF_JDYqrGwvsTBFcb0S72QBKsZ03Jr7ycoLFknqz4IcnGwZtw-ickpUZfUb6jtkk91sD-gXccKJqbsm5G4olU2Mug2TTZUDUjBmuKATu/s1600/fire.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 329px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPlkIIQLv3fz0YxHkc4cF6y9AQ55qd6dabTe-2SF_JDYqrGwvsTBFcb0S72QBKsZ03Jr7ycoLFknqz4IcnGwZtw-ickpUZfUb6jtkk91sD-gXccKJqbsm5G4olU2Mug2TTZUDUjBmuKATu/s400/fire.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541010246947717394" border="0" /></a>When I started making this, a bunch of really nice students walked in and were super polite. Now I feel like a jerk.L-Bohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13139147540677465999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222302061737456.post-60104056526243368252010-11-17T09:18:00.000-08:002010-11-17T13:33:38.396-08:00My 4 year-old Birthday Party (true story)I can't keep deluding people reading my blog. If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm not original at all, but I'm pretty good at taking other people's innovative, awesome ideas and making a bastardized half-assed version of what they did. Basically, for those of you that have not seen <a href="http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/">Hyperbole and a Half</a>, you should check it out. My blog is not the best blog, it is only a tribute to the best blog.<br /><br />I think the reason I find Hyperbole and a Half to be the best blog I've ever read is because the writer takes already awesome childhood stories and illustrates them with awesome pictures. It's like reading a really sarcastic kid's book. I'm discovering that the best stories that ever get told always start out with "When I was a little kid, I did something stupid and the consequences were hilarious" or "When you were a little kid, you did something stupid and we both had to deal with the hilarious consequences." Mom, Dad, Kelly, and Max, thanks for dealing with the consequences of my 4-year-old birthday party.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0yqGEadB33gyR5Uc3rBCIfzx_aL7DZd5iC-we64RyrMQh-QlL-MPYZoJ6nV0wDuNIXEC6IRDbYZEY6s3dw7rTp6m8i_hyphenhyphen5YGJ2-lVKC_NjqORPSadaLkvjaAtA2o2ZylTapsmGZOqFj3z/s1600/polaroid.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 365px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0yqGEadB33gyR5Uc3rBCIfzx_aL7DZd5iC-we64RyrMQh-QlL-MPYZoJ6nV0wDuNIXEC6IRDbYZEY6s3dw7rTp6m8i_hyphenhyphen5YGJ2-lVKC_NjqORPSadaLkvjaAtA2o2ZylTapsmGZOqFj3z/s400/polaroid.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540612927638377394" border="0" /></a>My sister and I have our birthdays 4 days apart. Growing up, my mom could only handle one party at a time, so Kelly and I would switch off every year, who got a party (YAY!), or who got a special dinner with the family (Boo...). I loved turning even ages because that meant I got a party and Kelly could suck it. For my 4th birthday, I wanted Mexican food and I wanted all my friends over. I loved tacos, refried beans and mexi fries (tater tots), and my mom was nice enough to feed all my friends my special meal.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhntQwS1UiV6FiBZFvkpo7dNQY7Bvdr0KqBdNcHxzbz0KKKqxPSXz1xjwbf7Nvxy8hLYvw4glF0AxuCI3f2pg7p5gYA1QzuMZoWgPaXbfe9hX9BRXMKvyMlBkqGWbEnCQQ3UOCac0t2hpBY/s1600/Dinner.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 329px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhntQwS1UiV6FiBZFvkpo7dNQY7Bvdr0KqBdNcHxzbz0KKKqxPSXz1xjwbf7Nvxy8hLYvw4glF0AxuCI3f2pg7p5gYA1QzuMZoWgPaXbfe9hX9BRXMKvyMlBkqGWbEnCQQ3UOCac0t2hpBY/s400/Dinner.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540615679055965266" border="0" /></a>Before dinner was served, we were all running around the house hyped up on the promise of cake and presents. My mom was cooking and doing pretty well keeping her cool despite the crashing and thumping coming from the next room. She was almost finished cooking, and I was getting hungry (I was and am always hungry). She was just pulling the mexi fries out of the oven to cool, and one feel on the floor. My dog Max was quick to get it.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioN1BrjYQKqAAq_SwVlUXYd6dwoY9ovILI09eRXhkILExWKVu1qYT-EM5-sPnH8QQ4Antck7ZG7d03RpDguPYbvXzr5O4-wjMxGf19Et41dka2o5FyMMU3Pi5mnQw3eSkK5OZGoIeq9Msg/s1600/kitchen.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 329px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioN1BrjYQKqAAq_SwVlUXYd6dwoY9ovILI09eRXhkILExWKVu1qYT-EM5-sPnH8QQ4Antck7ZG7d03RpDguPYbvXzr5O4-wjMxGf19Et41dka2o5FyMMU3Pi5mnQw3eSkK5OZGoIeq9Msg/s400/kitchen.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540622209062757314" border="0" /></a>The mexi fry was extremely hot and dead set on ruining everything (as you can clearly see above). Poor Max burned her stomach on the evil, molten fry, and ended up getting sick in the dining room.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizAGRFMNkOtc8IDKzT4cfs-MFZ0ZvXNl9orbiJqwuq34GrA2fOBqbTMeC2Vf3fwgebA5Im8bfZmHP1-du2CuzqHd1yyrutik4SpkXd0_H4KD6cuDDd8KlbiWkMiWZZjSmoWcAlMcubhBy_/s1600/Max.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 329px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizAGRFMNkOtc8IDKzT4cfs-MFZ0ZvXNl9orbiJqwuq34GrA2fOBqbTMeC2Vf3fwgebA5Im8bfZmHP1-du2CuzqHd1yyrutik4SpkXd0_H4KD6cuDDd8KlbiWkMiWZZjSmoWcAlMcubhBy_/s400/Max.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540624200185810706" border="0" /></a>Mom was trying to finish cooking and getting all the little kids ready for dinner, so she sent dad to clean up the vomit. While he was getting a rag and some cleaning spray, I wandered into the dining room, ready to sit down and eat. I found the pile of vomit, but had no idea what it was (I was not familiar with the dark brown color and lumpy texture of canine ralf).<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzI6ZmS2dR9pmud7yoPcCulISGmOIo8h-2Oy9a_jPB1CFgjqGv76IpbOPHR7Oqw_ffTLyViK7kdOmWA03kPjxKqPHgECqxYgI9EyAGNxXoMlwsC7uzF438pfBvssB1rxK0bc6xUVDTavIS/s1600/frame1.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 329px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzI6ZmS2dR9pmud7yoPcCulISGmOIo8h-2Oy9a_jPB1CFgjqGv76IpbOPHR7Oqw_ffTLyViK7kdOmWA03kPjxKqPHgECqxYgI9EyAGNxXoMlwsC7uzF438pfBvssB1rxK0bc6xUVDTavIS/s400/frame1.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540629656564303538" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMg6nd-JT4r99PQbFsB-hrSf9d15FIMdDRHVmzXwgO5IaeSxIxdYi6e4IVrV7WyKdLccDr9gvUx96vTdSE8afWOXYUkj0fgm7ySONbkNTm5rIqt-SPli_HuSFIyro9MCdn3LWeFiCKBBES/s1600/frame2.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 329px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMg6nd-JT4r99PQbFsB-hrSf9d15FIMdDRHVmzXwgO5IaeSxIxdYi6e4IVrV7WyKdLccDr9gvUx96vTdSE8afWOXYUkj0fgm7ySONbkNTm5rIqt-SPli_HuSFIyro9MCdn3LWeFiCKBBES/s400/frame2.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540629661923934322" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkb48NtVs7r2raC3u3UtfhfleZekc20mM9B3chyJ66DY7S7ZNaWTJFY0hdcwN7QBiTA-K8fMixaNOeMBwSAKxbwfWFoll-R5Kr75PkXGVztnjkOip0-DFW5ggeTxl2sbUIFTnX4SLDRgTN/s1600/frame3.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 329px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkb48NtVs7r2raC3u3UtfhfleZekc20mM9B3chyJ66DY7S7ZNaWTJFY0hdcwN7QBiTA-K8fMixaNOeMBwSAKxbwfWFoll-R5Kr75PkXGVztnjkOip0-DFW5ggeTxl2sbUIFTnX4SLDRgTN/s400/frame3.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540629664743430082" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjfvW7xaRCGLoD2Nm9PSu4FTMc7WCn2x6eTrMzUMzupDZO0wEYUsuo57vcS0DDot72rerQu6F-lfLQlb4gRgJ4k4RGJXTGFTZBtKxwtGoVD-cvLjEBOyU7xLiEuvrFO5JL-ps6sX0yKMnM/s1600/frame4.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 329px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjfvW7xaRCGLoD2Nm9PSu4FTMc7WCn2x6eTrMzUMzupDZO0wEYUsuo57vcS0DDot72rerQu6F-lfLQlb4gRgJ4k4RGJXTGFTZBtKxwtGoVD-cvLjEBOyU7xLiEuvrFO5JL-ps6sX0yKMnM/s400/frame4.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540630292362477842" border="0" /></a>After that, I threw up. Everywhere. I remember my mom giving me a bucket and rubbing my back while my dad was on the phone with poison control (the one and only time they ever needed to call poison control). While my dad attempted to explain exactly HOW his daughter ended up eating dog vomit, my mom tried to get all the kids to the table and ignore the retching sound coming from the kitchen.<br /><br />For some reason, I remember my parents laughing the whole time I was throwing up.<br /><br />After that, I felt totally fine. Poison Control said I would be ok, and that dog vomit is non-toxic. When the mess was cleaned up, I sat down and ate my whole meal, including the refried beans (like I said, I'm always hungry) and, despite the attempts of the evil mexi fry, actually had a pretty good birthday.L-Bohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13139147540677465999noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222302061737456.post-44496664219832092742010-11-15T10:12:00.001-08:002010-11-15T14:26:00.802-08:00Wolf ShirtsFor those of you that don't live in the Seattle area, let me give you a clue to what the weather is like today: cold, cloudy, and wet. It's on days like today that I need a little something extra to get me through the day. Due to my aversion to drugs and my laziness keeping me from brewing coffee, I have a special go-to-pick-me-up:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHt6-Poh1ykZPg2A9URzToT89HiH6xld8Q5-5kgUYwh7X2TXZg6Dt94FyGRpr2bAoxrntSL75ARGcp9RaHxydih15HYrszWK3E-vr-Pxt9txAi8J4kW4sbYGb-LxGy_5yy00_Wp_AfLFnJ/s1600/Wolfshirt.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 307px; height: 292px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHt6-Poh1ykZPg2A9URzToT89HiH6xld8Q5-5kgUYwh7X2TXZg6Dt94FyGRpr2bAoxrntSL75ARGcp9RaHxydih15HYrszWK3E-vr-Pxt9txAi8J4kW4sbYGb-LxGy_5yy00_Wp_AfLFnJ/s400/Wolfshirt.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539889602181760738" border="0" /></a><br />Granted, my wolf shirt doesn't look like that one, but you get the idea. Already being late to work and feeling extremely sick this morning, the wolf shirt was an excellent choice.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggVDuQTtt32cZXxa7WPC3pexHUSozFhh8U0gd1p2oVmKEN2hD6rLfjtR08rfd-_Bd4PNzojxaoI7Pj_rh0hoeiZ_5B_LtgqFWGlUqXLz2pQjgVDZzJGabdML9vMhsK6LXYx1noX_OyFaoK/s1600/Bear.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 285px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggVDuQTtt32cZXxa7WPC3pexHUSozFhh8U0gd1p2oVmKEN2hD6rLfjtR08rfd-_Bd4PNzojxaoI7Pj_rh0hoeiZ_5B_LtgqFWGlUqXLz2pQjgVDZzJGabdML9vMhsK6LXYx1noX_OyFaoK/s400/Bear.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539900424180661074" border="0" /></a><br />In addition to my wolf shirt, I got a new sweatshirt last night and have been basking in the glory of new-sweatshirt-feel all day, you know, the fleecy feeling of a new sweatshirt before it gets all pilly on the inside. I feel like I'm wearing pajamas today. I'm glad I'm also wearing wolf shirt, otherwise I would fall asleep from not having the sheer force of wolf adrenaline running through my veins.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDzDB-dOOkVrg3tv0rlR8iJvpNAfCtyf-AEYbhenYyqt6suVki9fksWRqiuqhEpyLU8VFbK2rZfV1lhJrptB1QfHQofsNDrtYU9yOWfBqdhv3KkJnq35fc9z-tbmVUI4vR9ELeN1cPHy_O/s1600/Sleep.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 354px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDzDB-dOOkVrg3tv0rlR8iJvpNAfCtyf-AEYbhenYyqt6suVki9fksWRqiuqhEpyLU8VFbK2rZfV1lhJrptB1QfHQofsNDrtYU9yOWfBqdhv3KkJnq35fc9z-tbmVUI4vR9ELeN1cPHy_O/s400/Sleep.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539904048507730738" border="0" /></a><br />I think I may get some Pho later. If I do, then a trifecta of awesome will soon occur, and I can conquer the world.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimcowg-jsnhL1wzFx-648dmQPX4bPSIdplQRunqk_7KI6njyxd31qZt8Ag5N1q-d7eZsLaFu-aNgq2IyAZJFECBIQDS4SDZqRqiHBLsXxsF-42V_lvMReiw3MMQh-xCkf8a4cknMIBGZIW/s1600/postpho.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 333px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimcowg-jsnhL1wzFx-648dmQPX4bPSIdplQRunqk_7KI6njyxd31qZt8Ag5N1q-d7eZsLaFu-aNgq2IyAZJFECBIQDS4SDZqRqiHBLsXxsF-42V_lvMReiw3MMQh-xCkf8a4cknMIBGZIW/s400/postpho.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539905837625938866" border="0" /></a>L-Bohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13139147540677465999noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222302061737456.post-59314332115442273722010-11-12T12:40:00.000-08:002010-11-12T12:46:15.558-08:00Fun With GraphsOne of my new favorite websites is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">graphjam</span>.com. Basically, it's where people use graphs to represent daily phenomenon. I've spent the last 3 hours on graphjam, and it's inspired me to make graphs of my own:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTk9Kefu0dCWnas7kCdoJVOHgYXECEy8G9o9tADe9KJKeiW3YrFQZa_y4z-StU3RhTbIkswRuDhL3Dv0PUFnis19YHWEszYxcbAJzIBwLVNOb-3D3adIv1nF4CYWD6RYm4Q7rLrE204qDJ/s1600/work.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 334px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTk9Kefu0dCWnas7kCdoJVOHgYXECEy8G9o9tADe9KJKeiW3YrFQZa_y4z-StU3RhTbIkswRuDhL3Dv0PUFnis19YHWEszYxcbAJzIBwLVNOb-3D3adIv1nF4CYWD6RYm4Q7rLrE204qDJ/s400/work.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538766070002594594" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCO2udGivTbqgkVMqZ3h0hAB8t0FhP4Fj6Q8cNsjSINwDjyCN1Feqyqo5Blwn4GG_7sbA6L8RA7p0D2uDBWOMFS8s-QAee7As2QJRigrpIWyRAD_digwtoDRsuLJh_z8XE10S03zsQtLWU/s1600/Satisfaction.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 247px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCO2udGivTbqgkVMqZ3h0hAB8t0FhP4Fj6Q8cNsjSINwDjyCN1Feqyqo5Blwn4GG_7sbA6L8RA7p0D2uDBWOMFS8s-QAee7As2QJRigrpIWyRAD_digwtoDRsuLJh_z8XE10S03zsQtLWU/s400/Satisfaction.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538766002905014434" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFPg4oIvuwxnF0CsuVc-mklhV1wQ4PAaZlJ6J6BgSjX7iYqaFAX5-pRp6gCEL3RSB799w71ZWmIqowhz98yu28pI7NenGb26HfFQ0GbNTYa9qtCLIHpJ__rm7Z1zcdnPyjiqMNObghRNLq/s1600/Ke%2524ha.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 333px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFPg4oIvuwxnF0CsuVc-mklhV1wQ4PAaZlJ6J6BgSjX7iYqaFAX5-pRp6gCEL3RSB799w71ZWmIqowhz98yu28pI7NenGb26HfFQ0GbNTYa9qtCLIHpJ__rm7Z1zcdnPyjiqMNObghRNLq/s400/Ke%2524ha.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538765947903032626" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibv2EhLNYc8hPKA-bKHL48fTSWrAqTKG6TZ3kznDvB334PkjCYNuVBsASyRPRje-YpEHHXvyPx44MlOyPLRvzunBN7IqnRcXWj1iG67lCYDkCZtHzvZXjq04GTkJfV1ffgPBSxH8_6avgt/s1600/brain.gif"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibv2EhLNYc8hPKA-bKHL48fTSWrAqTKG6TZ3kznDvB334PkjCYNuVBsASyRPRje-YpEHHXvyPx44MlOyPLRvzunBN7IqnRcXWj1iG67lCYDkCZtHzvZXjq04GTkJfV1ffgPBSxH8_6avgt/s400/brain.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538765890785800130" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkJT5Hwo1vL-4KgbNwhQeetrpJVJiinGLvU-tdBk0BTf_c60gIS8Eg1Bu-uQSQB1fQaYlAQd4AyfiEffe_2Hp4KMBA9eKAlaE5iuaFR0unKsewqU1jl6lWJg1GQ54yvVn4HGfxqWwzoZI0/s1600/Wang+Chung.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 333px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkJT5Hwo1vL-4KgbNwhQeetrpJVJiinGLvU-tdBk0BTf_c60gIS8Eg1Bu-uQSQB1fQaYlAQd4AyfiEffe_2Hp4KMBA9eKAlaE5iuaFR0unKsewqU1jl6lWJg1GQ54yvVn4HGfxqWwzoZI0/s400/Wang+Chung.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538767331576755538" border="0" /></a>L-Bohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13139147540677465999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222302061737456.post-47558495583661444652010-11-12T08:23:00.000-08:002010-11-12T09:34:34.586-08:00Happy (belated) Veteran's Day!Happy day after Veteran's Day everyone! I would have updated yesterday, but I was too busy building a couch fort and watching episodes of Star Trek. Today, I will give my special thanks to veterans in my family for all the things they've done.<br /><br />First, I would like to thank my brother-in-law, John. John is a member of the Coast Guard Reserve, and has done a tour in Iraq as well as guarded the base at Guantanamo. Whenever I tell people John is in the Coast Guard, they say, "Don't they rescue drunk people on their yachts?" Clarification: that is the Coast Guard, not the Coast Guard Reserves. Although John could rescue you from drowning on your yacht, he would probably choose not to because you are being an idiot.<br /><br />The Coast Guard Reserves symbol has, in my opinion, needed an update for a long time. The current symbol is as follows:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaF0zBAoGETzgbJCe_1S_sLqNJ3kzTeU09ToMbV-I6XY7ctdxmRU1-pVpQ7QIriWKO57mfPHCBu6LjRi-EYiuySJ5ZZdIvCAoXLclItIbdlpS4Mc1dVz8XiTw8Yt5hWblDezwn7pxA-Ect/s1600/seahorse.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 227px; height: 221px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaF0zBAoGETzgbJCe_1S_sLqNJ3kzTeU09ToMbV-I6XY7ctdxmRU1-pVpQ7QIriWKO57mfPHCBu6LjRi-EYiuySJ5ZZdIvCAoXLclItIbdlpS4Mc1dVz8XiTw8Yt5hWblDezwn7pxA-Ect/s400/seahorse.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538710984524172610" border="0" /></a>And the re-imagined version is as follows:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNWkmnbWINkiL6aOWUVxnZcHAnsSiNUkNz9tLFrfpg2-nUU1PXz5_-6l_hQylrvEdCUiwzcHj1CsV9bJtYznD28uB68ewxY7YaG74GY1ry5DNhghyCatjXlX5Gul8JWX4mK3Vm6KMZseEJ/s1600/strong.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 297px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNWkmnbWINkiL6aOWUVxnZcHAnsSiNUkNz9tLFrfpg2-nUU1PXz5_-6l_hQylrvEdCUiwzcHj1CsV9bJtYznD28uB68ewxY7YaG74GY1ry5DNhghyCatjXlX5Gul8JWX4mK3Vm6KMZseEJ/s400/strong.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538711345580233506" border="0" /></a>One of my favorite relatives that fought in the Korean war is my great uncle Dick. He's the kind of guy that used to ride motorcycles, works at a gun range, went on safari's in Africa, and drinks scotch like a man. He looks something like this:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiER36AyrIGmqmTHYpxO5Y2Mspr5Vty4zjdEZBB6o_i2ozKxSLwkjKv_IWhIojYcDS9p_bTLcxoSg5sbF1vo1C2qN7h67oszjtjiR8w6dxI2UTU-0tsozLSD3sFB8kVWqND4YEqC1LTWP5X/s1600/uncledick.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 297px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiER36AyrIGmqmTHYpxO5Y2Mspr5Vty4zjdEZBB6o_i2ozKxSLwkjKv_IWhIojYcDS9p_bTLcxoSg5sbF1vo1C2qN7h67oszjtjiR8w6dxI2UTU-0tsozLSD3sFB8kVWqND4YEqC1LTWP5X/s400/uncledick.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538714530437577874" border="0" /></a>Note: Mustaches that you see here are smaller than they appear in real life (true story).<br /><br />Other relatives I know that have served are my cousin Elizabeth, who is working as a midwife, my uncle Mal, former navy, and my grandfathers Richard, navy, and Richard, army. Thank you all for your time serving our country! And I'm glad you all survived so I could get to meet you and find out what incredible people you all are.<br /><br />Anyway, enjoy your rainy, Northwest weekend! Get out in the torrential downpour and do something fun!L-Bohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13139147540677465999noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222302061737456.post-26550786735031110312010-11-10T14:44:00.000-08:002010-11-10T16:29:20.265-08:00Adventures with BibbleI have recently been attracted to the sight known as "cuteoverload.com". For those of you that don't know, cuteoverload is possibly the best way to waste time on the internet, just so long as you're in a social situation where exclamations of "Awwww!!!!" and "SO CUTE!!!!" are acceptable. I'm at work, but have very little shame, so the students in here can go ahead and think I have Tourette's.<br /><br />As my mom very well knows, I want a puppy right now more than anything. I want a miniature doxin, and I want to name it John Avery Whitaker ("Whit" for short). Being both poor and not at home very often, this is a problem; however, I have decided I can delay my need for a puppy for a few years and, instead, get a momonga.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbeOI7-o2Yjrioo7A1oPy2MkJdxjrPp0TlUzVIQTBGSSj_PyGr78flpJgZ3kJRiMV6t00YBF6fe_nw5oEpcItzCOFcyi45nCOtuVLRWnEctpVlU_n-DkZqDpruUdalb-FBBBNASqs1D7GG/s1600/Momonga.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 277px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbeOI7-o2Yjrioo7A1oPy2MkJdxjrPp0TlUzVIQTBGSSj_PyGr78flpJgZ3kJRiMV6t00YBF6fe_nw5oEpcItzCOFcyi45nCOtuVLRWnEctpVlU_n-DkZqDpruUdalb-FBBBNASqs1D7GG/s400/Momonga.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538058266930322594" border="0" /></a>A momonga is a Japanese flying squirrel, and they're the cutest damn thing I have ever seen. If I had one, I would name it Bibble, and we would have awesome office adventures every day. Pets in the office aren't strictly encouraged, so I would have to keep her on the down low, but I think I could manage that. The following is an average day with Bibble:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGszptvq0Lm56SNfPuUCsxA5NfwDzYtdqHXhu6JGn4VEMUTZsUlvStgjMWnHFhZUVQ948BLAqL4s-mD0t9XmjYqo6ycOF-UYpL9VT6gZxt6WGwizoM-BwYBesfm6XXUpCf0lOefxC2q77B/s1600/bikeride.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 385px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGszptvq0Lm56SNfPuUCsxA5NfwDzYtdqHXhu6JGn4VEMUTZsUlvStgjMWnHFhZUVQ948BLAqL4s-mD0t9XmjYqo6ycOF-UYpL9VT6gZxt6WGwizoM-BwYBesfm6XXUpCf0lOefxC2q77B/s400/bikeride.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538070404150481906" border="0" /></a>Although Bibble could fly directly to work, chances are I would beat her and/or she would be harassed by the local squirrels, who are much fatter and meaner than sweet Bibble. Having been a child mocked by my peers, I would not wish that upon my pets.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie1wOW1DGOO8jnoRcn1D1ZLdqZKaaiQNxcLogTNjbgXUfHOa7zcXcKKRQPIBKSSpKsBRoZwGHTD_ufHGlPQ6lg3X3PIsWy47y_cd_tRM7OzaGRZBgrWouEQRauEInQGvYY43i59To4jkje/s1600/tophat.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 304px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie1wOW1DGOO8jnoRcn1D1ZLdqZKaaiQNxcLogTNjbgXUfHOa7zcXcKKRQPIBKSSpKsBRoZwGHTD_ufHGlPQ6lg3X3PIsWy47y_cd_tRM7OzaGRZBgrWouEQRauEInQGvYY43i59To4jkje/s400/tophat.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538072661801579682" border="0" /></a><br />Due to a general lack of safety and concern for my corporeal well being, I have a tendency to run into solid objects on a regular basis, so pocket carrying is out of the question. Bibble can ride around in a fancy top hat instead. Not only will I be transporting my pet safely and in style, but as we all know, top hat = status, so I'll be impressing the boss as well.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnOgaqfdi_ZuokqviZIwfZe-oNO6fTXEQlkLUa2BNhEq7NNFI-C4krj-tpKg4AWCqMu9pzL4x9uuYdysp2Zectq_grPJRPRjwHUwD-PDtCi312vgGnvDSt-BqF5Y8o8sEHYuSw2Pmk4J-c/s1600/desk.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 233px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnOgaqfdi_ZuokqviZIwfZe-oNO6fTXEQlkLUa2BNhEq7NNFI-C4krj-tpKg4AWCqMu9pzL4x9uuYdysp2Zectq_grPJRPRjwHUwD-PDtCi312vgGnvDSt-BqF5Y8o8sEHYuSw2Pmk4J-c/s400/desk.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538075075392186082" border="0" /></a>While I "work", Bibble could take ample naps in my desk drawer and chew on old post-its if she's feeling motivated. Due to a significant lack of supplies in my drawer, she could effectively have her own private studio for the day. When advisers are in meetings, I would sneak her out and play games like hide the saltine and jigglyball.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYlRiHJuDYjbUmjgDTJYu7sKpV9jdTBvbl0uFwVDF3qJiHyuCj7rVVrfIVJvwQBcrqdXiWaGj6v4oSrRfHZrRTL7jjYaQBmnk1SGRtq3oqkZlQIBuYzFFabYuPsuzufiEMhduaBBmj_Q9k/s1600/date.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 233px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYlRiHJuDYjbUmjgDTJYu7sKpV9jdTBvbl0uFwVDF3qJiHyuCj7rVVrfIVJvwQBcrqdXiWaGj6v4oSrRfHZrRTL7jjYaQBmnk1SGRtq3oqkZlQIBuYzFFabYuPsuzufiEMhduaBBmj_Q9k/s400/date.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538079186496911410" border="0" /></a>Bibble, however, would not be the best for my love life. After work, I would take Bibble with me to the local bars, but would become too distracted and, sequentially, forget about beer, my date, and nachos, thus defeating the purpose of going out to a bar. I would, thus, need to get a Bibble-sitter, but the whole "not having money" thing would prevent that. I would have to pay in MS paint drawings or paperclip statues.<br /><br />So, if you are looking to get on Santa's nice list this year, remember your good friend Lauren and her desire for a momonga. If not, a momonga sized helmet would suit me just fine for the time being, or at least stave off my need for a puppy....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiotpjoG1XOAqQvLVWKSYbLA9W596Sf-jExmje3ViJYGLL0dUzABjmueQT8qNwjIFjYowLtnVJ2OipqM5eN08W9IOfu_XKEda_0CTimm-QvLRlvfQEE4t9pCrvpKcB1RfonMxryYDKh6P_z/s1600/doxin.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 199px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiotpjoG1XOAqQvLVWKSYbLA9W596Sf-jExmje3ViJYGLL0dUzABjmueQT8qNwjIFjYowLtnVJ2OipqM5eN08W9IOfu_XKEda_0CTimm-QvLRlvfQEE4t9pCrvpKcB1RfonMxryYDKh6P_z/s400/doxin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538082611931289298" border="0" /></a>L-Bohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13139147540677465999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660222302061737456.post-88674485260486105962010-11-10T09:09:00.000-08:002010-11-10T13:12:42.486-08:00Introduction to self.For all of you out there that have recently graduated college and are discovering what paying bills is like, welcome. Maybe you don't have a job, maybe you have a job that blows (like me!), or maybe you are fortunate enough to be doing something you really like and are making bank off it (bastards...). I intend to make this blog be something you check in between doing "actual work" and checking <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">lolcatz</span>.com for the 15<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">th</span> time. I have absolutely no direction and no method in making this blog, but I find it to be a better use of my time than sitting around wondering if drinking the bottle of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Purell</span> next to me will make me go blind and/or get me drunk.<br /><br />So, an introduction to me: my name is Lauren, and I recently graduated with a Bachelor's of Science in Mathematics, which is said to be the most employable major presently. Well, I do have a job! I work in the math office at the university I graduated from, and my job is to help other math kids graduate. The irony is borderline poetic. Basically, I deal with variations of Past Lauren (who can be a real jerk sometimes) and try to guide him/her through the murky bog of undergraduate education. It's not very glamorous. Past Lauren would shake her head at future Lauren if she knew all the complicated proofs she did would amount to dealing with pissed off undergrads and reading fail blog 6 times a day.<br /><br />Today, as a distraction, I have made an illustrated example of my roots! I only know a limited amount about my ancestry, but this is what I do know:<br /><br />My father was born to Richard (of French roots) and Ruth (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">hella</span> Irish). The snobs and the bog people rarely get together, but I guess I'm lucky they did, otherwise I wouldn't be here.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7T-apdOdSJCH5lDSZtdInpN831_sJDECg3AJSr9GhF_QI1zr-T24j-e8nTath8VngT9FsMXpxI3ylsPHN7Hj4yN42Zx3b9P7sUmEFPtw41JbFesIheN3mGF0o5kzwNDgXGIs12IVcERoP/s1600/france+and+ireland.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 217px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7T-apdOdSJCH5lDSZtdInpN831_sJDECg3AJSr9GhF_QI1zr-T24j-e8nTath8VngT9FsMXpxI3ylsPHN7Hj4yN42Zx3b9P7sUmEFPtw41JbFesIheN3mGF0o5kzwNDgXGIs12IVcERoP/s400/france+and+ireland.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537986713171653666" border="0" /></a>I have no idea where my mom's family came from. All I know, is we all ended up in the Washington/Oregon area and we're all extremely Catholic. When I was inquisitive as a child, I would ask my mom "What country are we from". Her response would be something like, "Huh, I don't really know. A little English, German, Danish, Swedish, Italian, Norwegian, you know, whatever. Shut up, you're American." So while my friends were flaunting their "Norwegian-Polish" heritage or "German-Spanish", I was left thinking my ancestor was merely the bastard sea creature that crawled out of the hot tub after what was probably an insane, violent European orgy:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6IGz4Hst2O5hyphenhyphenMjJGZzlIGZwfpOts3d_Q6uH592Lk0KDl0dGe2TbHVsgaaLWHFFgPqZNBrWUqy8pKi71vGzcVz10jORzQ4mFVu-0WoyHa8jBO1GcXfv4z12moO57bfnXVBG93hXEMaITu/s1600/european+origy.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 294px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6IGz4Hst2O5hyphenhyphenMjJGZzlIGZwfpOts3d_Q6uH592Lk0KDl0dGe2TbHVsgaaLWHFFgPqZNBrWUqy8pKi71vGzcVz10jORzQ4mFVu-0WoyHa8jBO1GcXfv4z12moO57bfnXVBG93hXEMaITu/s400/european+origy.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537986651174300274" border="0" /></a><br />Morning After:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEfIQmhRS5FNBOa4d1mjjwBpwKOWY6AEd1zCcTWV268N-b3c2_6ddNXO1XalNJ3IcCmjkqxaESg96s9gxOPuQoEj3IIWpKwFDNbtokWYtkXjaGtUl9nDIABL6dzYkD-Av3Vc4wjpdzbC_C/s1600/morning+after.bmp"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 294px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEfIQmhRS5FNBOa4d1mjjwBpwKOWY6AEd1zCcTWV268N-b3c2_6ddNXO1XalNJ3IcCmjkqxaESg96s9gxOPuQoEj3IIWpKwFDNbtokWYtkXjaGtUl9nDIABL6dzYkD-Av3Vc4wjpdzbC_C/s400/morning+after.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537986770714652402" border="0" /></a>So, through years of calculated, intellectual breeding, we get to me, the mathematician/bike mechanic/aspiring chef/waitress/time waster/ginger/BLOGGER! Enjoy this blog before my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">ADHD</span> kicks in and I abandon it just like an orphaned snob-bog-Euro-trash-orgy-baby!L-Bohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13139147540677465999noreply@blogger.com3