tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66363606265230778962024-02-06T22:00:11.854-08:00Trash co.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger105125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-54625900967530618782013-03-15T18:04:00.002-07:002013-03-15T18:06:29.367-07:00How did we both end up here?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidlFP3Pi9wNqkkLwaRqSyD5xnCB4ZoojYPHq6iRqSgjz9z_SVCGWJNOi6P7x36olzYXsjfOXSpAjTid4UAtCk3chTHhM0r3d2gwd2QqBy9ovECBWlTJRuLZxcTFCMz9GBs40Y7h94puj8/s1600/DSC04499.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidlFP3Pi9wNqkkLwaRqSyD5xnCB4ZoojYPHq6iRqSgjz9z_SVCGWJNOi6P7x36olzYXsjfOXSpAjTid4UAtCk3chTHhM0r3d2gwd2QqBy9ovECBWlTJRuLZxcTFCMz9GBs40Y7h94puj8/s400/DSC04499.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This picture was taken before I became sick of all of the snow. I just want it to be warm already! Notice the double-jacket'ing?</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKFgzDooSrkZGWux9yh79WBjGwHlK1cxFnRSbRY1OYcSrCtrmwQSvXpvzlTGaALOUogZ_zX_ugc9SUZQ_2P003HawDulMe_uYk5sHB410zfG_-o48EK8Mxu_BR4PreE07pCETgeujMRzI/s1600/DSC04508.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKFgzDooSrkZGWux9yh79WBjGwHlK1cxFnRSbRY1OYcSrCtrmwQSvXpvzlTGaALOUogZ_zX_ugc9SUZQ_2P003HawDulMe_uYk5sHB410zfG_-o48EK8Mxu_BR4PreE07pCETgeujMRzI/s400/DSC04508.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This is my work bench! I love it. A lot of very genius (but also naive) ideas are created right here.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8N66PN1bid47Ed5qvC1-nAjp7stJ7gadH16cY04rN2x_mMv0UKv6vUD6cO1Lp3FxIfVPMezZxHUY2e8GTKJreXczs_4e3CmO3T-wijarEz4yNarBWiVFawcj0JmhZNBV-Y9YQio9TNqQ/s1600/DSC04539.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8N66PN1bid47Ed5qvC1-nAjp7stJ7gadH16cY04rN2x_mMv0UKv6vUD6cO1Lp3FxIfVPMezZxHUY2e8GTKJreXczs_4e3CmO3T-wijarEz4yNarBWiVFawcj0JmhZNBV-Y9YQio9TNqQ/s400/DSC04539.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Kelly drove all the way from Wisconsin to spend the weekend with me!</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWiR8h4LNmWfH9822nWX5CmUfEiAk1Ivul9zCKmdi6Yg9U1OOkPtZKSYngcpGUxUAt6_7hfP771oI7aAuaGSlUqntKjhHc4W1MmvikhlDqR-BZpeDdXIb6EUZkPSH_ePkXDdAhr3B-nwg/s1600/DSC04541.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWiR8h4LNmWfH9822nWX5CmUfEiAk1Ivul9zCKmdi6Yg9U1OOkPtZKSYngcpGUxUAt6_7hfP771oI7aAuaGSlUqntKjhHc4W1MmvikhlDqR-BZpeDdXIb6EUZkPSH_ePkXDdAhr3B-nwg/s400/DSC04541.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
We drove to New York City and I took this picture from the Staten Island Ferry! </div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-66508875140178002632013-03-12T18:21:00.002-07:002013-03-12T18:21:32.888-07:00A day in the life of a woodworker.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I like how my roommates automatically placed the blame on me for the toilet being clogged, because I "probably threw a tampon down there or something." I see a few things wrong with this assumption. <div>
#menfolkwhatajoke</div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-73933332672917245792013-02-24T14:05:00.002-08:002013-02-24T14:05:30.806-08:00Say Anything<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: left;">There’s this super attractive guy who goes to my church ( think 1980’s John Cusack ) whom I’ve been ogling every Sunday for the past month, and today he randomly walked up to me and introduced himself! Problems: He’s a senior in HS, and I’m 19. Too weird? Also, I am only sticking around for 6 more weeks before I move to the other side of the country!! My life sucks.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://jackparadise.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/sayanything4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://jackparadise.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/sayanything4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-83704024836035823112012-04-19T15:41:00.003-07:002012-04-19T16:28:23.368-07:00A Tribute to Bernice<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://crazyfrogss.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/African-Bull-Frog.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 480px; height: 360px;" src="http://crazyfrogss.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/African-Bull-Frog.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />So I had my last day of work on Monday. Now I have all of this free time where I am not constantly amused by elderly folk. I really miss my job. I actually would look forward to that job, even when working the 6am laundry shift. I loved the clash of people who worked and resided there immensely.<br /><br />So a tribute to Shady Grove Nursing Home.<br /><br />Some of my favorite moments/ conversations:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">#10: Conversation with SSo on the bus to work</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">S: "I haven't painted realistic people in a while; I need to buy a black paint with a less green hue."</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Me: " Your black paint has a green hue? Huh."</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">S: " Yeah I know right? (as a black man gets on the bus) You would think all blacks would be the same!"</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">#9: The day that State Survey came to observe the building, and a pipe broke in south hall bathroom. Leave it to Joyce to venture towards the faucet and try to turn off the water, getting herself completely drenched, and having to go home and change clothes.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">#8: Any day that Bernice tried to escape the building was an entertaining day. But also any day she would just stand up from her wheelchair and her wheelchair alarm would go off, that was also entertaining. One day a nurse tried to coax her back into her wheelchair with promises of yogurt. Apparently Bernices like yogurt.<br /><br />#7: Once when cleaning CTh's room, she told me "I hope you find a million dollars. I'd split it with you."<br /><br />#6: Another time when cleaning CTh's room, she was complaining to me of an upset stomach. Once I had finally gotten her to push the Help Button, she let out an enormous belch, and then told me she was fine.<br /><br />#5: I'll never forget the time that Joyce referred to the clock on the washer as "The Time Machine." When I began joking that I was very upset nobody told me we had a time machine, she didn't understand.<br /><br />#4: Or having to work Thanksgiving night, when the nurses convinced me to take a goodie-bag home full of food. Later I opened the bag to find six cups full of what I guessed via smell was pureed turkey, mandarin oranges, and vanilla pudding. Apparently Ruth didn't want her goodie bag, and I don't blame her.<br /><br />#3: The time I tried to leave work at the end of the day and didn't realize that the door was alarmed. They alarm the doors whenever high-risk residents are nearby. When I ran from the door, they found DJe at the scene of the crime, and wheeled him away. I got off scot-free.<br /><br />#2: Folding laundry with SSo while simultaneously dancing to The Jackson 5. It helps the day go by faster.<br /><br />#1: My favorite moment while working at Shady Grove Nursing Home was when I convinced all of my fellow employees that one of the residents spoke perfect English, when in reality he's Spanish-speaking from Portugal. The conversation went something like this:<br /><br />Cs: "All he ever says is 'Clean Clean!'<br />Me: "Really? He speaks perfect English to me."<br />Cs: "What?? How is that possible? I've been working here for two years!"<br />Me: "Oh yeah he only speaks English when you're not around."<br /><br /><br /></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-7623217810014186512012-03-03T19:37:00.004-08:002012-03-03T20:51:10.914-08:00Britches<a href="http://cdn.hahajk.com/uploads/2010/12/urkel.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 222px; height: 347px;" src="http://cdn.hahajk.com/uploads/2010/12/urkel.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />I am afraid that the longer I work at Shady Grove, the less aware I become of the hilarity that surrounds me. To avoid forgetting the day-to-day amusements, I am going to try documenting them.<br /><br />The first one is that I frequently am asked by residents to assist them. Whether or not they mistake me for a CNA I'm not sure, but nonetheless the residents consistently try to seduce me into doing odd things for them. I fall for it every time. I can't ignore their yelps for assistance, and I always get there before the CNA does. Just today I wheeled a woman to her bedroom only to have her ask me to undress her.<br /><br />All I can do is politely inform them that I am merely a housekeeper and that they need to wait for a CNA to assist them further. But to tell you the truth, I'm pretty sure they know I'm a housekeeper, and are just desperate/impatient. <br /><br />When it comes to wails emanating from the bathrooms, I stay far away. If I get asked to wheel someone to the bathroom, I wheel 'em and ditch 'em. It's only my job to clean up the mess afterwards. Which brings me to my next observation.<br /><br />Does everyone recall that scene from 'Daddy Daycare' where a little boy attempts to pee unassisted for the first time, comes out saying "I missed," after which Eddie Murphy looks up at the ceiling with horror? That's me every day that I clean bathrooms. I catch myself saying "How does this even happen??" about three times a day. I love that the residents claim to be wheelchair-bound, but in reality are flexible enough to leave stains in just about every crevice of the stall.<br /><br />Also something that I may never understand, is these people's ability to fall asleep in the middle of eating their food. One lady takes three hours every single day to eat lunch. She gets there an hour early, and stays an hour late. The reason it takes her so long is because she falls asleep, sometimes with a spoon still held up to her mouth. But you must give her efficiency-points for her use of a spoon to skewer her dinner roll in an attempt to eat faster. I think another part of the problem is her incessant flirting. One cannot possibly consume an entire meal, while fishing for a new boyfriend, in just an hour. These things take time. Especially if you are consistently falling asleep.<br /><br />This same woman stopped me just yesterday to complain about the hard-boiled egg she was eating.<br /> "What's wrong?" I asked.<br />"I want to eat THIS part of the egg (pointing at the yolk), but I don't want all this FAT around it" she tells me.<br /><br />It seems I don't know much about eggs, but apparently the egg whites are very fattening. Why a woman at her age, who just last week assured us that she was going to die, cares about fat, I don't know. But as I walked away without knowing how to comfort her, I got to witness her telling another person the exact same thing, desperate for some help with her serious egg problem.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-88098252238854274402012-02-03T19:01:00.000-08:002012-02-03T19:44:05.131-08:00Shady GroveFor those of you whom I do not encounter on a weekly basis ( and if you do, i guess you can read this as well...) I wanted to keep you updated on my life here in Provo!<br /><br />Sorry I can't post any amazing photos, because well...I don't even have a camera, so all of the photos of me are already on FB anyhow via Haley and Freyja and Maranda etc.<br /><br />BUT I will tell you about my adventures living here in Provo, and working up in Orem at the nursing home which Maranda and I have dubbed "Shady Grove" even though it's not the least bit shady, nor is it in a grove....actually it's right by an orchard (hence it's real name).<br /><br />So I've been working at this nursing home since the very end of October and I am very much in love with the people (residents and coworkers). I just started out working about 5.5 hours a day; 5 days a week, but just recently I began full-time. The building just came under new administration, and the new head-honcho likes things to be spotless (I'm a housekeeper). We all received full-time hours after they fired the 60 year-old laundry lady whom they discovered had been stealing toothpaste bulk. With her hours gone we all got to divvy them up amongst ourselves.<br /><br />This past week in particular was the state survey, during which state officials come for four days and make sure that everything in our facility is under regulation. Which means that I get to clean with, what my coworker JJ refers to as, "the devils" breathing down my neck. It was really stressful the first day because they come unannounced, but by day three we all gave up the idea of being perfect. Our facility has been rated as a 5-star nursing home, and we wanted to keep up our rating from last year. So this meant I had to make sure all of my chemicals were labeled properly, that my mop water was changed out every 2-3 rooms, I couldn't clean the dining room until EVERY resident was finished eating, and a billion of other tiny things.<br /><br />The reason cleaning the dining room after EVERY resident is done eating is so annoying, is because this is about sixty people all over the age of 70yrs, who take their sweet shaky-hands time trying to get those peas onto their spoon. Not that those peas make it into their mouths, because I can say first-hand that about 50% end up under their wheelchairs, smashed by their wheels as they're wheeled away. This is a very common occurrence, most especially with our resident who will be 107 this coming summer. Eat your cheerios every morning like this woman, and you too may be able to live to be 106.<br /><br />Just yesterday I was sweeping said dining room when I overheard one of the social workers interviewing one of the residents who just came back from the hospital.<br />"If we find you unconscious and not breathing, would you like us to resuscitate you?"<br />She promptly told her "No", which seems depressing, but at the same time I would have to say the same thing in her situation. I give all of you reading this blog permission to take a can of Raid to my face if I am ever unable to use the bathroom unassisted, and/or find my most pleasurable entertainment to be staring at a parking lot. Don't hesitate.<br /><br />Wheeling my cart around the building, hurrying to do my cleaning, I often hear bits and pieces of conversations throughout the building. My most favorite one so far was about a week ago, wheeling past one younger resident (probably only 60) who had just struck up a conversation with one of our dementia residents approaching maybe 75 or so. All I heard was<br />"Did you have a bowel movement today D?"<br />*nods head happily<br />"That's great! Because I know it's been a few days."<br /><br />I know he's trying to be supportive, but I don't want my conversations to ever revolve around bowel movements. Ever.<br /><br />Because of various reasons, a lot of the residents can't really talk. I need to take these pictures, but there are a few hand-written signs throughout the building that the CNA's/ Nurses leave to each other to remind them of routine things with each resident. For instance in one room, next to a resident's bed, it says really large " Did you remember to take out Mary's teeth?"<br />It's always there so I assume it's a daily thing to take out Mary's teeth. I don't know what will happen if they don't remember.<br />And my favorite sign is also by a resident's bed. This one says " My name is Helmut. Please put MY clothes on me. Thanks."Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-24379389094873830002011-04-11T18:12:00.000-07:002011-04-11T18:28:05.888-07:00Can you say 'P'?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.amazon.com/images/P/0316111937.01.LZZZZZZZ.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 333px; height: 475px;" src="http://images.amazon.com/images/P/0316111937.01.LZZZZZZZ.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />I figured that since I don't talk to all of you all too regularly that maybe I should blog at least one post to cover the last six months of my life. I was accepted to start college at BYU-Provo for summer term, beginning June 20th! Which just so happens to be one week (count it; seven days) after I graduate from high school. So I'll be in Utah in a couple weeks for Genuine's graduation, and I'll be scoping out all of the hot spots....if they even exist. I'm just kidding, I think I'll have a good time. I have fond memories of visiting the Provo campus as a kid and I can't wait to take some revenge on some nasty geese.<br /> Other than preparing for college I am still working as a receptionist at the same hair salon, but the whole salon is preparing to move to LO about five minutes away from our current location. I've already told them I'll be leaving as soon as June. I hadn't realized how attached I'd gotten to some of the stylists until some of them started finding new work before the move. Some of them decided to try out other salons and found this time of moving the perfect opportunity to start anew. I hadn't realized how much I would miss them when the time came!<br /> Besides THAT, I'm contently finishing the last few months of school, and my last day is June 3rd! And then I graduate June 13th! and then I start school ALL OVER AGAIN the 20th! Fun times.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-72587553248137812332010-08-08T19:19:00.000-07:002010-08-08T19:37:25.533-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bayouclassicdepot.com/images/bayou_classic_scene.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 321px;" src="http://bayouclassicdepot.com/images/bayou_classic_scene.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /> Even though my life isn't all too exciting, I might as well update for those people who don't see me everyday.<br /> Now that Fletcher is gone it's just Haley and me with the 'rents. Haley is leaving for school at the end of this month, so then it'll officially just be me left. People keep asking me about how i 'feeeeel' now that Fletcher's gone....but he never talked much in the first place, so it doesn't 'feeeel' much different, like at all.<br /> It's almost back to school for me in september, I'll be a senior. I know strange right? I just turned seventeen! When I was young I remember my older sisters being seventeen and thinking they were adults, with thighs! Now I'm seventeen and I feel young and kinda scrawny. Maybe I'll get thighs later into my seventeenth year.<br /> For my birthday my friend Spudge threw me a surprise swim party. It was tons of fun, and I have never had so many consecutive chicken fights in my life! Complete with friends, a pool, cupcakes, and presents. I got a hammock from LCl and now I need to find a time and place to put it up.<br /> Work at the salon has been good. I've been working there since spring break, and just within the past two months they hired a second girl to split my hours so my paycheck is sadly about a $100 less than it was before, but I don't really mind since I get much more free time. I used to work basically everyday, and my friends complained they never saw me. Now I only work two or three days max per week.<br /> I mainly answer phones, greet people, bring them water, alert the stylists of their time shifts and problems. I haven't made any major mistakes yet because I'm very careful to ask for help scheduling anything that may even cause the slightest problem to the stylists. I think they prefer you ask them for help rather than being surprised the day of work when they need to 'adjust.'<br /> Other than that I'm pretty lazy most days. I got my top braces off in July, and I get the bottom braces off on the 25th. My abnormally small teeth that I had next to my front teeth were what I like to call 'corn-dogged.' They filled in the gaps on either side with 'bony material' and now they're regular sized and I got a new retainer. I call it corn-dogged because the original tooth is there, but the new stuff was put around it...kinda like how the corn meal is deep fried around the hot dog.<br /> So with that out of the way, I need to get my senior picture taken. I think Haley wants to do it with her fancy Nikon. Although I always imagined Audrey would be the person to go to.<br /> Anyway, that's all I've been up to. If I've forgotten anything just let me know.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-72813915542939504632010-03-20T09:24:00.000-07:002010-03-20T09:48:39.775-07:00I seem to have misplaced my boyfriend....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://cafecrem.files.wordpress.com/2007/10/the-dish-washer.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 378px; height: 390px;" src="http://cafecrem.files.wordpress.com/2007/10/the-dish-washer.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /> I had a very interesting conversation with one of my young women's leaders as she was driving me home from Camp Kick-Off on Thursday. JSi has to know what's going on in my life at all times so she began with asking me about my boyfriend, whom I've been dating a little more than two months now.<br /> I am infamous for losing things. Most everybody knows this about me because I have gone through 4+ cell phones, losing one to a dish washer, one to a washer, and two more that I just abused to the point of death. My brother at one point, while discussing my getting a car, pointed out that I would probably lose the car. He took it back for a second saying " I doubt you could misplace an entire car.....no wait....I bet you could." So you see, I have a bad reputation. It's not that I don't care about these things, I'm just oblivious to when they are not where I think they are.<br /> So, with this reputation in mind, JSi asked me how my boyfriend and I were doing, and I said we were doing fine. Then she asked me if I had lost him yet. "Lost him? No....he's very much still around" I said.<br /> I went on to tell CSm, my boyfriend, about this. He responded with " Probably because I have a mind of my own. I can't be left and forgotten in pants and washed, or dropped in a dish washer."<br /> I do feel that if it was solely up to me, and he didn't have a mind of his own, I would've lost him ages ago. " What ever happened to that one guy.....CSm? Yeah him."Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-84811868982830707262009-11-29T19:04:00.001-08:002009-11-29T19:14:53.428-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.autoweteran.gower.pl/concept/1955_Cadillac_La_Salle_II.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 526px; height: 297px;" src="http://www.autoweteran.gower.pl/concept/1955_Cadillac_La_Salle_II.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />I had my first rball league match on saturday a week ago, and it was amazing. I was really, really nervous at first and lost my first split-n-go match against a girl from la salle, which placed me in the losers bracket with around five or six other girls, but I don't think I'd have gotten very far in the winners bracket anyways. So I was at the MAC from 10-3pm but time flew like none other. They told us we'd be bored and want a heavy lunch so I was freaking out, but I hardly touched my lunch I was so busy the entire time! Anyways, I lost my first two matches before Dad decided to leave for some reason, can't remember why, and as soon as he left I won my first match. Then I won the next two! Dad+Presence= Bad Luck. So I ended up winning three out of my total six which I think is pretty good for my first year ever playing. What I've noticed is that the serve can determine a winner. Some of these girls are crappy runners and hitters but since they've perfected their serves they will win. I never really focused on my serve, I've done it the same as day one and apparently it's pretty good. I won my first match 11-0 because she couldn't return like 80% of my serves to the corner. It isn't fast or all that accurate but it kills some people.<br /> P.S. I was thinking about a warning label today, you know how things commonly say "Keep away from open flame"? Well....shouldn't you be more concerned with concealed flames? Because then it's less expected!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-5601819664761691062009-11-19T20:07:00.001-08:002009-11-19T20:22:24.843-08:00_a_ _ e t b a l l. Casketball?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.lindamojer.com/04web_bkup/racqmag/images/covers_90-96/921.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 327px;" src="http://www.lindamojer.com/04web_bkup/racqmag/images/covers_90-96/921.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Beginning this school year I decided to play racquetball with some of my mormon friends and man has it been really fun. There's a school bus that drops off kids a little ways away from the YMCA so we just get off at some apartments and walk the short distance to where we practice. I had to pay quite a bit for the Jersey, various memberships, and other ridiculous fees but it was worth it. Our first league match is this saturday but I wasn't extremely excited because they've divided all the players into different teams and I only know three of the people on my team. Luckily though, the one other team from BHS that's competing there too is the one other team with all my friends. So we'll be spending most of saturday at the MAC playing round robin single matches and determining our bracket level. The coach says I have potential and am a good runner, capable of running cross court to get to the ball, but I'm weak on my hitting accuracy, so he makes me play with seniors to make me better. Strangely though I won't get too far into a practice before my right arm kills me with pain. I lose almost all my strength in it and it makes it harder to hit with it. Last night I woke up a little after midnight with shooting pains going up and down my right arm. Oh it hurt so bad, but somehow I managed to fall asleep and wake up at 3am to have it happen again, and this time I didn't fall asleep so I took some pain killers and fell asleep. It was so awful and tiring I slept in and didn't go to school today. Instead I knitted some, cleaned the house, showered, baked some brownies, and did the dishes. If I don't do something productive at almost all times I feel guilty.<br /> Anyways, league match Saturday so hopefully that will go well. If my arm starts to kill me again I won't know what to do. I'll be there for about five hours.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-90104094489935163752009-08-08T19:26:00.000-07:002009-08-08T19:44:59.454-07:00Three Little Pigs<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.odt.co.nz/files/featured_gallery/2009/02/people_scout_camp_mud_sliding_1877608773.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 800px; height: 600px;" src="http://www.odt.co.nz/files/featured_gallery/2009/02/people_scout_camp_mud_sliding_1877608773.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Something that I've noticed and discussed with guys my age in the church is how young men leaders are different than young women leaders. Especially at camp and during our third hour of church. All us girls ever hear is " We are SO proud of you," "We love you all SO much," and "You girls are an inspiration to me."<br /> When I told a few guys this and how much I hear it, they responded telling me that young men's leaders do not show any heartfelt emotions, and especially not at scout camp. My favorite response was from CRi who told me all they hear is " Stop looking at pornography." Quite a different feel wouldn't you say? And when I asked them what scout camp was like it didn't sound anything like girls camp. Girls camp is all about strengthening your testimony and learning to get along with all the girls around you. What I've heard about scout camp is that it just sounds like a lot of roughhousing and work. They dont tie-dye, or play 'Pretty Pretty Princess,' or sing pointless camp songs about kissing boys in canoes, and while they're sipping straws.<br /> Which leads me to wonder about the young men in our church. Most of my testimony comes from my leaders and girls camp etc. But if I had only Young MENS leaders and merit badges....where would I get it from? Their lessons sound harsh, their camp experiences exhausting, and their leaders less heartfelt. Do they just require less babying than girls or what? They all seem perfectly strong in the church when I talk to them but they don't get as much nurturing. I guess they gain a testimony the old-fashioned way through scripture study and finding things out for themselves, which I'm awful at.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-262364006970717632009-07-06T11:01:00.000-07:002009-07-06T11:25:32.662-07:00Just Let Me Sleep!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.troutball.com/twisted_fish_tales/weeping_sucker/Weeping_Sucker_Head_Only.jp.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 322px; height: 572px;" src="http://www.troutball.com/twisted_fish_tales/weeping_sucker/Weeping_Sucker_Head_Only.jp.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /> I got back from EFY a week ago and I have to say the experience was not what I had expected. I want to say it was fun, but I don't think I got the most out of things. It was basically a week long of church only they make you talk to boys the entire time. They expect us to meet new people right, but since the stupid swine flu we weren't allowed to hook arms when the boys escorted us. Only, we WERE allowed to slow dance. I see they're trying to limit the amount of contact but still....when they escorted us we had to hold each other's lanyards. I felt like a dog on a leash.<br /> Also, my friend SJa is roughly six months younger than me and so she made me be in her group, out of fear she'd be all alone. So here I am, supposed to be in the older group, and I'm stuck with all these lacross-playing boys who keep exclaiming they're gonna be freshmen next year....and I keep telling them I'll be a junior. As you can probably imagine I didn't quite hook up with any of them seeing as I wouldn't have let them.<br /> Thirdly the counselors were amazing, yes, but they never give you rest. Basically my schedule was<br /> >wake up at 5 am and shower/ get ready until 7am devotional.<br /> >eat breakfast<br /> > escorting to some sort of morningside devotional<br /> >classes classes classes classes until lunch<br /> > classes classes classes classes until free time<br /> > one hour free time where I make up the lack of sleep i received from the night previous.<br /> > Dinner<br /> > more company riff raff<br /> > night time devotional<br /> >sleep around 12am<br /><br /><br />Now that's the revised version, really I should throw in about thirty more prayers to that day, some guilt-tripping lessons, a few field games, and about an hour of random time where you're supposed to be learning but you're stuck waiting outside in the cold holding onto some unibrowed boy's lanyard talking about lacrosse.<br /><br />The very last night, friday, I was so excited to go home that I had a nightmare that they wouldn't let us go to bed. I actually dreamt that I wanted to only go to bed but they kept making up activities for us to do and I was like "It's three in the morning and I have to get up at five tomorrow! Just let us go to bed now!"<br /><br />That's truly how I felt. Evey day there'd be some new activity for us to do with some ridiculous name, and we had to go to it. Friday night there was a dance, and you'd think since it was the last night it'd be amazing, but it was so lame. It was only an hour and they never told us that for like three hours afterwards we'd be looking at a slideshow and have yet another devotional...then after that devotional was done we had this really intense second devotional within our companies that left everybody but me crying. Then as we were about to leave the "dance" at around 10:30pm, they got our entire company into a cinnabon goodbye hug where we all roll into a giant hug. I lost my shoe in the very beginning and nobody would let go for the longest time. Then there was sobbing goodbyes and everybody hugs everybody.<br /><br />That was my EFY experience although there were a few other things but this is just the overall aura of it all. Not to mention they overfed us and many times I'd skip dunner or lunch because I'd still be hecka full from the previous meal.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-58832077754120884802009-05-31T12:52:00.000-07:002009-05-31T13:10:51.908-07:00Without A Trace<a href="http://www.ecorazzi.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/02/chicken_baby_large.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 434px; height: 640px;" src="http://www.ecorazzi.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/02/chicken_baby_large.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /> So the Fam went to Lincoln City over the past weekend to check out the beach house we were planning on staying in, and it was a nice three-story one, kinda far from the beach, but nice altogether. On the way back from the beach, after checking out some minor stores, we stopped at a fruit stand to get some cherries and corn etc, but I was more interested in the animals the family owned. The father of this family (I never caught their names) was giving pony rides in a little round-about track for little kids. I went over to their little fenced in animals and saw a very short horse, only to be assumed a pony, and a little, fuzzy donkey'ish animal. Then comes running through the fence at me is this little baby chicken. Short enough to just run underneath the bottom of the fence and chirp at me, probably trying to suck up and get food out of me. I picked him up and petted him, but kindly explained that I had no food for him and he went on his way pecking at the ground as if I meant nothing to him.<br /> Now if you're really in the chicken-scene then you know where all the chickenesque conventions are held, the names of all the "united chicken lovers of america" etc etc, and of course you get the monthly chicken magazines. I do none of those things whole-heartedly but I caught wind of an open house in Oregon City where you just grab whatever chicks you want and pay by the breed. So it's like one of those sushi rounds where you grab whatever food looks best and then pay according to the color of your plate. This sounded all too exciting for me since chickens are hard to come by in small amounts. If you try to have them shipped to you, yes you get to pick the breeds, but usually theres a minimum shipment of 25, so if you dont want 25 they'll stick random birds in there. I didn't very much want 25 so this open house sounded good to me. <br /> Now back to this fruit stand, I asked the dad if the chicks were for sale and he said that the lady who was selling them wasnt there but rather giving pony rides a little ways away. His daughter said all the red chicks were for sale for three dollars each, so I said I wanted five. Chicks aren't very fragile so a few of the family's daughters wrangled some up for me, one holding three at a time. Now I have four new baby chicks. Why four you ask? Because one mysteriously went missing after I only had it a few days! Normally when one goes somewhere they ALL go. That's why it's so strange that one morning when I went to feed them that I counted only four. So now I'm one short. Plus these chickens aren't guaranteed pullets so I might end up with a little rooster on my hands. <br /> I personally dont mind roosters, and their crow is cool, but our neighbors got mad last time we had a rooster in the backyard. So if we get a boy, he's going to a "better place."Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-42719378504440483732009-03-29T20:01:00.000-07:002009-03-29T20:20:04.880-07:00Urabus<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.edmunds.com/media/reviews/top10/towing.vehicles/05.subaru.outback.500.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 315px;" src="http://www.edmunds.com/media/reviews/top10/towing.vehicles/05.subaru.outback.500.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Yesterday I went into the DMV for my third try at getting my driver's permit and it was stressful at first. The guy, upon walking in, told me to throw away my can of Yoo-Hoo...quite an upsetting way to begin a test. But I recovered once I got up to the counter and the bald man taking my paperwork told me that I had a glint in my eye that told him I was gonna pass this time. Im glad somebody believed in me because Mom sure as heck didnt. The last time I came she kept saying "Well if you fail I'll bring you back next week." I didn't wanna hear that! So I kindly said "Mom quit saying the F word it's freaking me out!"<br /> She told me to stop saying it like that so I just told her I would if she'd stop making me have to. I blame that on the reason I failed last time. But with the confidence from the bald man and the absence of the F word, I passed.<br /> It took a long time because we go there late and all the booths were full, so they handed me packet/pencil test to do. I had taken the computer test twice and knew almost all the questions on it that repeated, I was sadly disappointed to see almost no repeats on the packet. Crap.<br /> So I did the best that I could and went back through and changed about four of my answers at the end, and then left it in the wire basket for them to grade. I was allowed to go back and sit down so I checked my book to see if my corrections were really coprrections after all. Two of the only ones I remembered precisely were both wrong moves when I checked. Crap crap crap crap. But when she called me over after grading it I passed anyways! So i waited and got my picture taken and all other manor of exciting paperwork. My signature's crap though. Those little computer thingys that you write on? Yeah they slant your writing and I had to do it three times. The first time it didnt fit, the second time I "cut off my H" (but really I spelled my name wrong...shhhhhh.), and the third time it was still crap but I think she got tired of me so we went on to taking pictures. My bangs were bothering her, my smile was too big, and I needed to keep my chin down is what she told me. Finally we agreed on one and it's fine. <br /> My plastic one gets mailed to me this month! Right now I've been driving around different neighborhoods with my paper one in my purse behind my chair. Dad took me out for about twenty minutes and tonight I needed to drop some stuff by the DI trailer in the church parking lot. So I asked mom if I could practice my parking, and man is she a spaz! I'm not very good but man was she cranky! I always forget to check behind me before I pull out but it was an empty parking lot. so I began treating it like a full parking lot of cars but nothing satisfied her.<br /> More driving stories, I'm sure, to come!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-81772272976550952192009-03-27T20:10:00.000-07:002009-03-27T20:47:22.213-07:00Jello on springs<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.qnetwork.com/movie/SomeLikeItHot1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 252px; height: 150px;" src="http://www.qnetwork.com/movie/SomeLikeItHot1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Comment<br />I will spare you the details of my Florida trip this past week and will just share with you the highlights.<br /><br /> 1.) In St. Augustine (east coast of Florida; oldest town in the nation) theres this huge, wooden play structure, akin to the beaut at OES. Its got tacky, children's art, yes, but when you put that aside its fantastic! My favorite part was that as I was exploring the second story to this monstrous playground I came across a huge hole that lead to the bottom story. I peered down it and it lead to a tire swing below! The hole was human-sized so I ventured a descent. I struggled for a bout a minute trying to decide how to best go down easily without hurting myself but Bony-M just kept yelling at me to hurry up so I just squirmed quickly down only to find a camera directed at me which captured perfectly my pure joy of accomplishment.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_x2IMgJjZ58M/Scw44zojOaI/AAAAAAAAD3I/3SZERYLyaak/s512/IMG_2562.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 384px; height: 512px;" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_x2IMgJjZ58M/Scw44zojOaI/AAAAAAAAD3I/3SZERYLyaak/s512/IMG_2562.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />2.) While touring St. Augustine's little alleyways we found a chocolate shop called "Claude's Chocolates" and what can I say besides delicious? Mom bought us soft-serve, half & half cones that made my day. They also sell chocolate-covered cheerios! Bizarre I know.<br /><br /><br />3.)This is somewhat of a highlight because when I say highlight I mean its something I definitely won't forget, but not for a good reason. While descending into Georgia airpot on our way to Florida my ear wouldn't pop on my right side like it would on the left. Which then turned into a head ache...JUSt on my right half of my head, which then turned very painful, and then a molar on the right-side of my mouth started throbbing with pain, until I was full-on in fetal position in my airplane chair crying while still putting pressure on my head. Thank goodness it was mom sitting next to me unlike the flight back where I was between two strangers. That was awful. It didn't happen during take-off, just before landing. So we went to one of the airport's little stores and bought some sinus congestion medication. I took two before getting on the next flight to Tampa but was upset when upon landing a second time it still hurt slightly. Painful and disturbing still. So I made a mental note to take more next time. The flights home I took two an hour before the flight, and another two an hour before the flight landed. Worked like a charm, with absolutely no pain.<br /><br />On another note, since I haven't posted in a long time because of lack of computer capabilities, I've been studying for my Driver's permit. I need it for six months before I can get my license so after some quick calculations I realized It was less than six months until my sixteenth birthday! How scandalous. So I decided I wanted to get this over with asap. I've taken the test twice already, failing each time ever so slightly. Last time I was one question away from passing. You need 28/35 to pass and I only got 27. The tactic I've most commonly been told is to skip any of the questions you dont know for sure because if you can get to 28 without any wrong you automatically pass. So I tried that my second time and it worked better, only I came back to the questions I'd skipped at the end of the test! I had skipped eight, so all I needed was to get one of my skipped questions right and I'd be done! I went through all of them and missed them all at the very end. I'd skipped them for a reason, because they were hard to understand or badly worded, and it showed in the end. I'm going back tomorrow though and I've been practicing!<br /> My favorite thing was last time I went, Mom and I were waiting in line (I always heard jokes about those lines at the DMV and now I know what they were all talking about!) and as I was talking to myself aloud from the book, Mom takes the book from me, skims through it, and says " Yep. That was illegal alright." and hands the book back to me. I asked her what she was talking about and she's all "I made an illegal turn and Dad was in the front seat telling me it was illegal but I didn't believe him cause I do it all the time. I guess he was right."Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-4377183334347768342008-11-28T04:16:00.000-08:002008-11-28T04:29:15.064-08:00Brown Thursday Gobble Gobble<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.spacejock.com.au/blogpics/Toast1.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 450px; height: 338px;" src="http://www.spacejock.com.au/blogpics/Toast1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> I have concluded that I am entirely a mindset person. I just got five hours of sleep and yet I'm spic and span. I'm energized and feel like I got ten hours of sleep.<br />So why can't I be this easily pleased on a school night????<br /> WHY?!<br /> Because today I get to go shopping and shopping is waaaaay better than school. Why should that effect how energized I am though? You don't have to be awake while shopping. I could've easily droned about getting up today as I usually do every other day and still had a good time. It's the same thing on Christmas too! Christmas morning it doesn't matter what freakin' time it is. I want my toast and I want my Wallace & Gromit.Period.<br /> So when I know I'm getting up just so I can be tortured, my body says to me every excuse in the book. I physically get sick.<br /> I don't just THINK I'm sick but I really do become sick!<br /> When I only get five hours of sleep before a school day, I wake up tired, and very sick. But suddenly I sleep for five hours and I come blog about it. That's how energized I am. No sick cell in my body. I even was sick YESTERDAY (I think because I had two dreadful days of school this week and I'm still recovering from that hell) and now I feel much better.<br /> In conclusion, School makes you sick, and Rest isn't what cures you. It's TOAST that cures you!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-13698232034837246142008-11-21T22:29:00.000-08:002008-11-21T22:45:58.174-08:00You Brought Me Your Love<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDJ7h0UCjpNsDXNRIkMg-5B9qPBPqXoAeYEV8dgAHt4huDkfeZo6aTBGZQmHIOTJk8xoYh4yMCPs0mEIHGL5SQLvhL16_VOP32Fa2t3FAEaQxzoQlGtgjtQigZrcOatcHs0KcQyBmha44/s1600-h/twilight_wallpaper003.png"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDJ7h0UCjpNsDXNRIkMg-5B9qPBPqXoAeYEV8dgAHt4huDkfeZo6aTBGZQmHIOTJk8xoYh4yMCPs0mEIHGL5SQLvhL16_VOP32Fa2t3FAEaQxzoQlGtgjtQigZrcOatcHs0KcQyBmha44/s400/twilight_wallpaper003.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271368877647128450" /></a><br />What can I possibly say in words to describe this high I am on right now?!<br />All I could do to express myself in the car back from the theater was high-pitch squeals and screaming.Whoever has also seen Twilight knows what I'm talking about. There are no words to describe utter love.<br /> I was very anti the books all the while they were popular but after F2 told me he was going to see the movie, I thought "Theres no harm in seeing the movie. I like movies. And they're cheaper than books."<br /> So I went with a few of the young women in my ward and a few leaders. Before the movie started I went out to the snack bar and ARo bought us a blue raspberry icee to share (although I consumed the most part of it) and I saw the poster for Quantum of Solace. And I thought to myself, "There is a REAL man with a REAL weapon."(He was holding a gun in the poster)<br /> Thats not all but, seriously! I actually COULD NOT smiling during the entire movie!<br /> Whoever doesn't want to have anything to do with Twilight, I encourage you to at least see the movie.Or at least go for the weight loss benefits. I laughed and shrieked with happiness every ten seconds and my stomach hurt afterwards it was SO AMAZING!<br />TEE HEE!!!!!!!<br />Christmas present anyone? Get me Twilight on dvd. Or a poster of either Edward or Jasper. Both are insanely hot.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-74092172109912782482008-10-28T14:42:00.000-07:002008-10-31T14:28:52.108-07:00Ouch i think that hurt.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.chrisrue.com/funcave/graphics/nyquil.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 350px; height: 551px;" src="http://www.chrisrue.com/funcave/graphics/nyquil.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> So every even day (every other day because BHS has a blocked schedule), F2 drives us to school in his granny car so this means I don't have to catch the bus, and I get an extra five to ten minutes to get ready in the morning. Well, this morning he told me five minutes before the bus was about to come, that we were taking the bus instead. The nerve of him! I had just gotten out of the shower, wet hair and hadn't gotten dressed yet! So.....he left for the bus without me, and I didn't know what to do with myself. So I took some off-brand Nyquil capsules, and slept for the next six hours. Good ol' drugs.<br /> I didn't take them for no reason, trust me, I have a cold and I haven't been sleeping very well for the past few days. So the extra six hours today made me very happy. That's why I'm writing about it. Only today I meant to go to school because I had a huge science test, and we might be learning new material in Math today. So I'm pretty much screwed, but the extra sleep just makes me happy. Also I usually ride the bus to work after school twice a week, but now I can't thanks to F2. He'll have to drive me when he gets home.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-90304439408908777362008-10-11T19:16:00.000-07:002008-10-11T19:20:18.742-07:00I'm jumping the border PeteMy chickens have been very naughty. The old batch never left the yard except like once or twice in their lives. That record has been beaten and I've only these chickens six months.<br /> So after much debate and laziness, I clipped their wings. I didn't want to because it's very demeaning in my opinion. A bird is classified as a bird because of it's ability to fly and produce eggs. I just took half of the importance out of their lives!<br /> I know they hate me now.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-31442060338805993272008-10-03T16:05:00.000-07:002008-10-03T16:26:25.569-07:00Don't worry. There's a bunnny.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvEHRbXzg985916tkhBobP54lsIDuzqq69vBdrESqoRVw6t6t6rWGPGV5V55umeKx6zY5zkTK5Cvd0fA8TgdGzEe_oz2i-NuryEsfvbew5gFKS1TaVjqLNKiBVx_v2CdS0NeCG_6qVseo/s1600-h/barredrockhen.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvEHRbXzg985916tkhBobP54lsIDuzqq69vBdrESqoRVw6t6t6rWGPGV5V55umeKx6zY5zkTK5Cvd0fA8TgdGzEe_oz2i-NuryEsfvbew5gFKS1TaVjqLNKiBVx_v2CdS0NeCG_6qVseo/s400/barredrockhen.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253073045126199522" /></a><br /> So apparently time flies farther than my chickens, because the other day I was talking about how my chickens had another couple of months before they'd start laying, but Mom corrected me and said that I'd had them since April. I opened up the hen house and found a little brown egg in there! At first I was like what is this?! Then I remembered that chickens quite usually do this sort of thing. Laying eggs is expected apparently.<br /> I checked again yesterday and there was a second one. Then today I checked but Jasmine was in there but hadn't laid anything. I think I disrupted her chi or something. The other day she ran after me. I think she was trying to see where I was taking her egg. " To the refrigerator that's where! And you're not getting it back!"<br /> Now she won't talk to me.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-66162980244714247282008-09-21T19:49:00.000-07:002008-09-21T20:04:04.316-07:00Mothers Dead Upset<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.koreanwiz.org/MomHasGrownHornsOST.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://www.koreanwiz.org/MomHasGrownHornsOST.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /> In continuance with my boring life....the school, sadly, is still in tact. I'd say my favorite classes are Theatre and Seminary. Least favorite? Definitely Chemistry II, and Lit & Comp. I don't hate Lit & Comp because I hate books/ writing, but it smells funny in the classroom, it's right after lunch, and for some odd reason I become severely sleepy part way through it. No joke, I could fall asleep very easily and usually close my eyes when she reads out loud. I'm hoping to do Honors in that class so maybe I can keep busy with work instead of sleeping. <br /> I really think that Honors may just give me excess books and packets, but I like books so it's all good. The only thing that bugs me almost more than anything else in the world, though, is "hidden symbolism." With a fiery passion sometimes I just want yell " The author meant what he said and said what he meant! There IS NO hidden symbolism!! GAAAAAHHHH!!!!"<br /> But that would make my essays less convincing than they already are when we have to write five page essays about hidden symbolism and what the author is trying to portray. I already stretch enough crap into my essays. I never mean anything I say when I write essays. Especially about books. Maybe I'll hide symbolism in my essays that the teacher won't get and then show her what it feels like. Then assign her to drag on and on about how clever I am and that my essay has a "Christ" figure or something else.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-71075267454650003382008-09-07T19:56:00.000-07:002008-09-07T20:09:20.809-07:00Alice Cooper was so wrong.So, since starting school, nothing interesting has really been happening. Just a lot more homework than I would've ever expected for the first week of school. I can handle it though. I'd like to be one of those people who gets all their homework done right away and has the rest of the two days not to worry about much. It's really nice.<br /> Especially weekends! I'm gonna do all my homework asap and then not have anything to worry about for three whole days! It's amazing.<br /> I'm one of those people who works really hard in spurts. So I'll go crazy cleaning everything in sight, and then wishfully think it's never gonna get dirty again because I worked so hard, but it never lasts long. That's why I like weekends so much. Because it gives me that three-day hope that since I worked so hard on my homework that I've done enough for the year, but then a few days later I get more, then more, and then yet again, more. Piling up after each class. Then the wishful thinking starts up again. "I'm gonna get it all done by 5 o'clock today!"<br /> Now that's most likely what WOULD happen, if I hadn't gotten an after-school job. Now I clean a lady's house twice a week. Tuesday is fairly easy. I'm still working out the kinks on how I plan on organizing my time there. What to start on, and what I should leave for last. You wouldn't think it would matter, but there's an entire system to it because they interconnect in the end. You can't dump the trash now because you haven't cleaned the bathrooms yet, or; You can't vacuum the rugs until after you dry mop because that's just silly!<br /> Things like that can drive you crazy with concentration, while you stand there for five whole minutes trying to work out a schedule in which nothing messes up anything you've already done or are about to do. And sometimes you're mistakes don't become obvious until it's too late.<br /> Oh well. At least I get paid.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-23886264265895233452008-08-29T14:20:00.000-07:002008-08-29T14:41:30.989-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1UM8wQ8yQijPAHmJGVZrI_RKmeG4xK4Wx9VRSUeZW4u8ou9d4oiTNX7Z4TMgKtJqsIwCF5e-oo5R2LnjL87DViCS7cgM-8tknUdouxFOJ4Yizi9JPcPqKmDmdjHYv9tla2WWLGvK4F_I/s1600-h/IMG_0831.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1UM8wQ8yQijPAHmJGVZrI_RKmeG4xK4Wx9VRSUeZW4u8ou9d4oiTNX7Z4TMgKtJqsIwCF5e-oo5R2LnjL87DViCS7cgM-8tknUdouxFOJ4Yizi9JPcPqKmDmdjHYv9tla2WWLGvK4F_I/s400/IMG_0831.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240053121412160674" /></a><br /><br />The past week has been mostly this scene right here. Pandy just playing with his toys, making a mess in the family room, and us too lazy to clean it up because there's no point until he's gone.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwHKHTLiPlQVuPfJXzRKK_IlfT_pQ2F2JMppIwIru0kUOqS9T2eCXqQHFW1laZgIIHLmKvZXBrNRi9laA_7cvbIbW-rQ3V1bNLB59Tuu4-ncQaobDYDUVCH5BUgzRkfxUndIkHbFsdPkU/s1600-h/IMG_0843.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwHKHTLiPlQVuPfJXzRKK_IlfT_pQ2F2JMppIwIru0kUOqS9T2eCXqQHFW1laZgIIHLmKvZXBrNRi9laA_7cvbIbW-rQ3V1bNLB59Tuu4-ncQaobDYDUVCH5BUgzRkfxUndIkHbFsdPkU/s400/IMG_0843.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240056029366447170" /></a><br />And we strapped Pandy into his car seat and made the 3 1/2 hour trip to Bremerton Washington. He did very well. Mostly just napped and ate baby food.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsnhpLdGAAJhHpjE2LGENRGmtYixWhFJtVZRazHlo6_oE9keteoZeDuQyjKWPKhyWCMMldnE80VMjtPW_9f_iJIyBhIpYBRA14haeO37GjAOT38UXnfbOdGAtFvsgLXf1eL4vwQ-bvtFI/s1600-h/IMG_0849.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsnhpLdGAAJhHpjE2LGENRGmtYixWhFJtVZRazHlo6_oE9keteoZeDuQyjKWPKhyWCMMldnE80VMjtPW_9f_iJIyBhIpYBRA14haeO37GjAOT38UXnfbOdGAtFvsgLXf1eL4vwQ-bvtFI/s400/IMG_0849.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240056544327686754" /></a><br />Because of his baby food on his face it reminded me of the emperor from the movie Mulan. It also smelled really good so i asked Bony-M if she'd ever tasted any of his baby food. She just told me that I should try it for myself. Beef and vegetable. Not bad. Then she smeared it on my face to match Pandy. We had no napkins.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeXIZBlrawrl0M6jiEQjcuO9wEmlnTu0FVyjiBj8604qpB6rQS5tiYD4U-rowG1D3jCnPZfjIPeIhev9mt_8HIu-GvzPhD11L_oqVgX0lpdjEDxCisMerMbL_XSSfiythMC6kviYeqXQQ/s1600-h/IMG_0848.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeXIZBlrawrl0M6jiEQjcuO9wEmlnTu0FVyjiBj8604qpB6rQS5tiYD4U-rowG1D3jCnPZfjIPeIhev9mt_8HIu-GvzPhD11L_oqVgX0lpdjEDxCisMerMbL_XSSfiythMC6kviYeqXQQ/s400/IMG_0848.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240057107153669314" /></a><br /><br />She made me a genuine baby food French mustache. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPSMOHKve7slGSAPNLpbvjgWiJqqGg4nI5O_rI9fKhb6jSdFwkSxI8ZVIXItFavcAxB3q7ViqeC2lnGZ2Qm5OKEI7_4BTvtFKyzRMIqgvYe2z8MW_jDxTjD6t4cq0FvYSl0O8ONTtLUdY/s1600-h/IMG_0857.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPSMOHKve7slGSAPNLpbvjgWiJqqGg4nI5O_rI9fKhb6jSdFwkSxI8ZVIXItFavcAxB3q7ViqeC2lnGZ2Qm5OKEI7_4BTvtFKyzRMIqgvYe2z8MW_jDxTjD6t4cq0FvYSl0O8ONTtLUdY/s400/IMG_0857.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240057811375586274" /></a><br />When we got back to Ptlnd, we were very happy.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636360626523077896.post-13891257507818819912008-08-18T14:48:00.000-07:002008-08-18T14:58:43.489-07:00Pooper Scooper<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigcagktgoKkJMaZwmoVWrmNK3Azp5F_tszLFEMeM6RvjI21nC3qAbh2yJ8LsvzBGNdl4TmWWfvCq4r4-Gxij0J3WMcjh4sneX7WRVJpuva97lJdGBWFrTtK7A82ENuaM9cD-yNJg15kXU/s1600-h/bullandjose.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigcagktgoKkJMaZwmoVWrmNK3Azp5F_tszLFEMeM6RvjI21nC3qAbh2yJ8LsvzBGNdl4TmWWfvCq4r4-Gxij0J3WMcjh4sneX7WRVJpuva97lJdGBWFrTtK7A82ENuaM9cD-yNJg15kXU/s400/bullandjose.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235980485516994098" /></a><br />Yesterday in church they announced during chapel meeting that the YW were getting a new presidency. The previous president was in office for about ten years. Truthfully I can't imagine her in any other calling. Some of the other YW leaders stayed in YW, but switched around.<br /> Also, School starts again in fourteen days. Two weeks. I must say that this summer in no way went by quickly though. Usually people say it went by too fast but I think it was the perfect amount. I've talked to too many older persons who say that they would much rather be in school than working, but i was very skeptical. Then I talked to people freshly out of high school, just finishing one year of college, and they're like " I am so glad high school's over with. I prefer working." I think old people only remember the fun stuff and vaguely recall the tests every other day, the evil teachers, and not getting paid. Never ever say you'd rather return to high school. It sucks.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1