As deadlines flashed before my eyes and little or no progress had been made on my projects, I decided something must be done to get my chronic procrastination under control. I needed help, but my measily bank account could not afford me regular visits to a psychologist, a life-coach, or even extra phone calls home. So I did what 1,000's--perhaps millions--of Americans do when they realize their life is out of control, I went to the self-help section of the bookstore.
Simply stepping into that section is an accomplishment for me. Why can't they organize these books by topic instead of author? I feel so inadequate as I search through the titles "Goodbye to Shy," "One Small Step Can Change Your Life," " The Surrendered Single," "Master Your Anxiety," "Challenging the Artist Within," and "The Manual." I suddenly can't breath. My heartbeat is racing. Do I need help with dating? Am I shy? Do I have an artist within? Where's my mommy? I need my blankie!! Aaahahahahahahaahaaaaaaaahahahahahhahahah.........
Once I got a grip of my sanity, I refocused on the goal at hand: procrastination. Searching high and low, avoiding all the relationship blah-blah books, I finally found three with promise. My favorite is the "The 60 Second Procrastinator." Designed for the procrastinator with ADHD, you don't need to read it straight through. It gives you 60 practical tools (3-4 pages each) for combating procrastination. The second book is "Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway." It looks like a good book, but I'll need to use some tips from the first book to help me read this one through to completion. The third book is called "A Year to Live." It's a great concept--spend one year as if it is the last year of your life. I predict that in five years, when I look at the book still sitting unread on my bookcase, I will probably consider reading it.
Two hours after my arrival, I paid $50 for all my books and left the store. As I waited for the subway I pulled out "The 60 Second Procrastinator" to see what wisdom it would impart. I opened to #18 Minimize Distractions. That's when it hit me. I had just wasted a whole lot of time and money procrastinating my projects because I was distracted by searching for ways to avoid procrastinating. You know I may want to reconsider investing in a good psychologist. ;)
Monday, December 17, 2007
Monday, December 3, 2007
Talk to Strangers
How does one talk to strangers?
It is strange that children can so easily engage any J-random person they see in the store, on the playground, or at a bus stop? Yet as adults, we can stand face to face with someone on the subway and will do everything possible to avert making eye contact, let alone strike up a conversation.
I pondered this as I stood on the subway this morning, 3-inches away from the person in front of me. He was an attractive stranger, the man with whom I shared my personal space on the packed train. Avoiding direct eye contact, I studied his reflection in the opposite window. He had a kind face. Perhaps he would willing chat with me on my way to work, if only I would open my mouth and speak. But what would I say?
"Lousy weather we're having."
"Are you on your way to work?"
"So I noticed you don't have a wedding ring. Do you have a girlfriend?"
I racked my brain for something to say. I thought perhaps I could eavesdrop a good conversation starter from those around me, but no one was speaking. Those who were not absorbed in their morning papers were all staring the ads on the walls, rereading the same slogan 15 times over.
Another two stops have gone by. If I don't say anything now, my ride will be over and I'll never see him again. If only he carried a book or something I could comment about: a dog, a bike, or even a cool umbrella. So there I stood with this man, with whom I would very much like to speak, yet I remained completely silent.
What do you think he's thinking? Do you suppose he is hoping I'll break the ice or is he preoccupied by upcoming important meeting? That's when I begin to make excuses. He probably has other things on his mind than chatting on the train. I only have 2 stops left, what sort of conversation could we possibly have now? Instead I compose a text message on my phone and then read the paper that another passenger is holding at just the right angle.
As my ride ends, the stranger and I go in opposite directions, and I kicked myself all the way to work.
It is strange that children can so easily engage any J-random person they see in the store, on the playground, or at a bus stop? Yet as adults, we can stand face to face with someone on the subway and will do everything possible to avert making eye contact, let alone strike up a conversation.
I pondered this as I stood on the subway this morning, 3-inches away from the person in front of me. He was an attractive stranger, the man with whom I shared my personal space on the packed train. Avoiding direct eye contact, I studied his reflection in the opposite window. He had a kind face. Perhaps he would willing chat with me on my way to work, if only I would open my mouth and speak. But what would I say?
"Lousy weather we're having."
"Are you on your way to work?"
"So I noticed you don't have a wedding ring. Do you have a girlfriend?"
I racked my brain for something to say. I thought perhaps I could eavesdrop a good conversation starter from those around me, but no one was speaking. Those who were not absorbed in their morning papers were all staring the ads on the walls, rereading the same slogan 15 times over.
Another two stops have gone by. If I don't say anything now, my ride will be over and I'll never see him again. If only he carried a book or something I could comment about: a dog, a bike, or even a cool umbrella. So there I stood with this man, with whom I would very much like to speak, yet I remained completely silent.
What do you think he's thinking? Do you suppose he is hoping I'll break the ice or is he preoccupied by upcoming important meeting? That's when I begin to make excuses. He probably has other things on his mind than chatting on the train. I only have 2 stops left, what sort of conversation could we possibly have now? Instead I compose a text message on my phone and then read the paper that another passenger is holding at just the right angle.
As my ride ends, the stranger and I go in opposite directions, and I kicked myself all the way to work.
Monday, November 19, 2007
I don't procrastinate, I collect distractions
How many procrastinators does it take to screw in a light bulb?
ANSWER:
Two. One to hold the giraffe while the other fills
the bathtub with brightly colored bicycles.
If you will humor me, I'd like to tell you about a dream I had a little over a year ago.
The dream begins at my parents house on my wedding day. Most brides have notebooks, planners, organizers, and PDA's filled with all the details for this once in a lifetime event. I however did not. Instead of making wedding plans during the previous weeks, I had purchased a puppy and had spent all of my free time housetraining it.
When the big day arrives I wait until midmorning to go to the church to begin getting ready. For some reason I think it would be quick and easy so I bring my teenage niece and a younger nephew along as my only helpers, but I discover a few set backs. First, my wedding dress won't stay on my shoulders and keeps falling off. Then my niece then points out that I haven't showered and my hair isn't done.
Just then my nephew begins to tantrum because he's incredibly bored, and my niece takes him home. As I start going through my clothing options, and consider postponing the wedding, my sister comes in to help with the dress. Taking control of the situation she starts off by saying “How about some color?” Although a colored wedding dress isn't exactly what I had in mind, I let her take control.
As we try to figure out what I can possibly do about a dress, I ask her what she thinks of my fiancee, at which point I am suddenly hit with the realization that I have no idea who my fiancee is, and then I wake up.
What we've got here is a major undertaking (a wedding), a distraction (a puppy), and a no planning (wedding dress mishap, grungy hair, and a mystery fiancee). As much as I hate to say it, I've seen this pattern in my life on more than one occasion. I am a renowned collector of distractions which keeps me from planning for most major undertaking which leads to........(drum roll)............disaster.
With my current plan to film my Masters project on January 20th, I am hoping that I can somehow turn this around. So if I even mention a puppy in the next 2 months you have my permission to slap me silly.
the bathtub with brightly colored bicycles.
As a chronic procrastinator, I have the habit of filling my schedule with random distractions to prevent finding any time for the dreaded necessities. Which in short means seemly innocent pastimes become massive roadblocks to my progress.
If you will humor me, I'd like to tell you about a dream I had a little over a year ago.
The dream begins at my parents house on my wedding day. Most brides have notebooks, planners, organizers, and PDA's filled with all the details for this once in a lifetime event. I however did not. Instead of making wedding plans during the previous weeks, I had purchased a puppy and had spent all of my free time housetraining it.
When the big day arrives I wait until midmorning to go to the church to begin getting ready. For some reason I think it would be quick and easy so I bring my teenage niece and a younger nephew along as my only helpers, but I discover a few set backs. First, my wedding dress won't stay on my shoulders and keeps falling off. Then my niece then points out that I haven't showered and my hair isn't done.
Just then my nephew begins to tantrum because he's incredibly bored, and my niece takes him home. As I start going through my clothing options, and consider postponing the wedding, my sister comes in to help with the dress. Taking control of the situation she starts off by saying “How about some color?” Although a colored wedding dress isn't exactly what I had in mind, I let her take control.
As we try to figure out what I can possibly do about a dress, I ask her what she thinks of my fiancee, at which point I am suddenly hit with the realization that I have no idea who my fiancee is, and then I wake up.
What we've got here is a major undertaking (a wedding), a distraction (a puppy), and a no planning (wedding dress mishap, grungy hair, and a mystery fiancee). As much as I hate to say it, I've seen this pattern in my life on more than one occasion. I am a renowned collector of distractions which keeps me from planning for most major undertaking which leads to........(drum roll)............disaster.
With my current plan to film my Masters project on January 20th, I am hoping that I can somehow turn this around. So if I even mention a puppy in the next 2 months you have my permission to slap me silly.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Google a friend today
Every once in awhile I suddenly think of a long lost forgotten friend, and I begin pondering where that person might be today. Well, such a moment came today.
My friend's name is Dax. Isn't that a great name? I've always wanted to name a son that, but a few years back Star Trek used it for a female character who had a symbolic relationship with a slug creature that lived inside her. Try explaining that one to your child. So I've had to forgo that idea.
Anyway, I haven't seen him since 6th grade. Dax was a funny guy. I remember one Valentine's Day he caused a riff with one of my other friends when he gave her a valentine that read:
The roses have wilted.
The violets are dead.
The sugar bowl's empty,
and so is your head.
When I found myself wondering "what ever happened to him," I decided the most logical thing to do was to enter his name into Google to see what popped up. Fortunately his first/last name combination is a wee bit unusual so when I got a hit, I was fairly confident it was him.
Surprise, surprise, he's a high school teacher in the Nowheresville, Utah. Who'd a thunk it? I went to the high school website just to verify that I had the right Dax, and indeed I did. There's a picture (he's changed a bit since we were 12, but it's him all right), his educational background, and a really boring blog (I never did care much for earth science homework).
Anywho, I just thought I'd share this experience with you, and suggest that maybe we should all take a moment now and again to try to look up an old friend. Perhaps you'll find nothing at all, but then again, you just may just discover something interesting.
Cheers.
My friend's name is Dax. Isn't that a great name? I've always wanted to name a son that, but a few years back Star Trek used it for a female character who had a symbolic relationship with a slug creature that lived inside her. Try explaining that one to your child. So I've had to forgo that idea.
Anyway, I haven't seen him since 6th grade. Dax was a funny guy. I remember one Valentine's Day he caused a riff with one of my other friends when he gave her a valentine that read:
The roses have wilted.
The violets are dead.
The sugar bowl's empty,
and so is your head.
Surprise, surprise, he's a high school teacher in the Nowheresville, Utah. Who'd a thunk it? I went to the high school website just to verify that I had the right Dax, and indeed I did. There's a picture (he's changed a bit since we were 12, but it's him all right), his educational background, and a really boring blog (I never did care much for earth science homework).
Anywho, I just thought I'd share this experience with you, and suggest that maybe we should all take a moment now and again to try to look up an old friend. Perhaps you'll find nothing at all, but then again, you just may just discover something interesting.
Cheers.
Monday, November 5, 2007
Sombostah, here I come.
Perhaps you have heard of AT&T's "Network This" campaign where your personal network consists of the three places you most often divide your time.
An example might be Manchester, New York, and Liechtenstein which becomes........Manyorktein. Or perhaps you split your time between Guatemala, Las Vegas, and Tenbucktoo. Well, then your network would be Logvegtoo. My personal network is technically Sombostge, but I haven't a clue how to pronounce that so I'll go with Sombostah instead.
To check out your network visit http://www.attwheredoyoulive.com/. And if you really, really, really like your network name (and are willing to give into AT&T's promotional ploy) you can get it on t-shirt or mug ;)
An example might be Manchester, New York, and Liechtenstein which becomes........Manyorktein. Or perhaps you split your time between Guatemala, Las Vegas, and Tenbucktoo. Well, then your network would be Logvegtoo. My personal network is technically Sombostge, but I haven't a clue how to pronounce that so I'll go with Sombostah instead.
To check out your network visit http://www.attwheredoyoulive.com/. And if you really, really, really like your network name (and are willing to give into AT&T's promotional ploy) you can get it on t-shirt or mug ;)
Friday, November 2, 2007
Employment Benefits
There are definitely reasons to like my place of employment (the large beige building in the left corner).
1. Sweet View for Red Sox and Patriots Parades.
Whenever a Boston team wins a national/world championship, they put the athletes on boat-car hybrids called Duck Boats and drive them around town so we can all share in the excitement of the win and prevent the need for riots. ;)
The best part is that these parades go right in front of my building, and I can get some great pictures without braving the crowds.
View from the roof.
View from atop my co-workers desk.
I took 132 pictures in all so I'd prefer to not post them all here, but you can check out the album on snapfish:
www1.snapfish.com/share/p=676311193844098631/l=317249732/g=16664672/otsc=SYE/otsi=SALBI took 132 pictures in all so I'd prefer to not post them all here, but you can check out the album on snapfish:
2. The View From My Desk.
Not only do I have a window, I have a window with a sweet view. Sunsets like this make working late a little more tolerable.
3. Movies
A film titled Bachelor No. 2 filmed a scene in the 6th floor of my building a couple months ago. Dane Cook and Alec Baldwin were there. I had hoped that my being the assistant to the person who gave them the okay to film would provide with more than a 5-second glimpse of Alec, but alas it was not to be.
Since I couldn't get a picture with the stars, I got a picture of the chairs that are occasionally occupied by the people who tell the stars what to do. (please note that Mike Elliot is the cutie producer)
And some entertaining signage:
4. Miscellaneous Benefits
There are loads of other cools things from my job like free lunches, free Diet Coke, free advice, but I'm afraid those aren't nearly as photogenic. ;)
Monday, October 29, 2007
Sleepy, sleepy
I made a glorious discovery today. Are you ready for my most wonderful epiphany? Are you sure?
Here it is:
Sleep is good.
After weeks of staying up until 1 AM I finally succumbed to exhaustion last night and crawled into bed at 10 PM.
Those who have lived with me can attest that my awaking from a deep slumber can be best compared to separating a grizzly bear from it's dinner. Needless to say I'm not what you call a morning person. So when I stumbled out of bed at 7 AM (+ 30 minutes), I was amazed to discover I had a ready supply of energy.
I did my hair, ate breakfast, and even (drum roll please) made my lunch. On top of that I had the capacity to think in complete sentences AND problem solve. In fact, I think McGuyver would have been proud with my figuring out a cool way to keep the pesky dish scrubber from sitting at the bottom of the sink or making a soggy mess of the counter, by using a hook, some packing tape, and the dish rack.
Ironically my "sleep is good" discovery happened to occur the same morning that 98.47% of Boston awoke blurry eyed and exhausted. With the Red Sox playing the 4th and final game of the World Series until late last night, there were more than a few New Englanders suffering from what the newpaper referred to as "Red Sox: induce insomnia."
Now that the Red Sox have won the World Series, I predict that my fellow Bostonians will become reacquainted with their pillows this evening and will awake tomorrow with a new realization of how good sleep really is.
After weeks of staying up until 1 AM I finally succumbed to exhaustion last night and crawled into bed at 10 PM.
Those who have lived with me can attest that my awaking from a deep slumber can be best compared to separating a grizzly bear from it's dinner. Needless to say I'm not what you call a morning person. So when I stumbled out of bed at 7 AM (+ 30 minutes), I was amazed to discover I had a ready supply of energy.
I did my hair, ate breakfast, and even (drum roll please) made my lunch. On top of that I had the capacity to think in complete sentences AND problem solve. In fact, I think McGuyver would have been proud with my figuring out a cool way to keep the pesky dish scrubber from sitting at the bottom of the sink or making a soggy mess of the counter, by using a hook, some packing tape, and the dish rack.
Ironically my "sleep is good" discovery happened to occur the same morning that 98.47% of Boston awoke blurry eyed and exhausted. With the Red Sox playing the 4th and final game of the World Series until late last night, there were more than a few New Englanders suffering from what the newpaper referred to as "Red Sox: induce insomnia."
Now that the Red Sox have won the World Series, I predict that my fellow Bostonians will become reacquainted with their pillows this evening and will awake tomorrow with a new realization of how good sleep really is.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
My Student Films
I've recently heard some grumblings that some of my friends have either never seen my student films or cannot watch them whenever the mood strikes you.
To allay your grievances, I have uploaded two of them to Youtube for your viewing pleasure. I would have done this sooner, but some of the soundtrack is not "technically" legal. Something about needing permission for copyrighted music, so there's a possibility that they won't be up for very long. If you like the films, you may want to use a nifty program like "TubeSock" so you can save the films to your computer just in case Youtube decides to get persnickety about the rules.
Anywho, this first film is called "My Fake Job." It was my first attempt at making a film. I co-wrote, co-directed, co-produced, co-starred, and co-edited it with three other students. I'd say it's pretty good for a first attempt and a collaboration. And of course everything you like in the film was my idea, and anything you don't like, that was someone else's idea. ;)
This second movie is called "Chocolate Therapy." I wrote the script entirely by myself which might explain why it's a little odd. ;)
To allay your grievances, I have uploaded two of them to Youtube for your viewing pleasure. I would have done this sooner, but some of the soundtrack is not "technically" legal. Something about needing permission for copyrighted music, so there's a possibility that they won't be up for very long. If you like the films, you may want to use a nifty program like "TubeSock" so you can save the films to your computer just in case Youtube decides to get persnickety about the rules.
Anywho, this first film is called "My Fake Job." It was my first attempt at making a film. I co-wrote, co-directed, co-produced, co-starred, and co-edited it with three other students. I'd say it's pretty good for a first attempt and a collaboration. And of course everything you like in the film was my idea, and anything you don't like, that was someone else's idea. ;)
This second movie is called "Chocolate Therapy." I wrote the script entirely by myself which might explain why it's a little odd. ;)
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Wicked Utah Connection
Let me start off by saying "Wicked" is an absolutely wonderful musical. I know you must be thinking. "Uh Aleigh, we knew that already. In fact the whole world knew that already."
You're right the whole world did know that, but I had my doubts. I had purchased the "Wicked" soundtrack months ago, and found the main character's voice grating--perhaps not as bad as say Disney's Snow White, but painful on my ears all the same.
Then last week I saw "Wicked" live on stage in Boston, and was absolutely blown away by the Wicked Witch. There were so many great songs, that I hadn't recognized as been all that grand on the original soundtrack. When I got home I tried to locate a "Wicked" soundtrack recorded by Victoria Matlock, the awesome actress I'd seen last week.
Although, I wasn't able to locate any CD's, I did discover that Victoria Matlock graduated from Skyline Highschool in good ol' SLC in 1995. Too bad I went to Hillcrest, otherwise this could have been one of those "I knew her when...." moments.
Since y'all weren't there with me to see how cool this was, I also found a couple bootleg youtube postings of her performances:
You're right the whole world did know that, but I had my doubts. I had purchased the "Wicked" soundtrack months ago, and found the main character's voice grating--perhaps not as bad as say Disney's Snow White, but painful on my ears all the same.
Then last week I saw "Wicked" live on stage in Boston, and was absolutely blown away by the Wicked Witch. There were so many great songs, that I hadn't recognized as been all that grand on the original soundtrack. When I got home I tried to locate a "Wicked" soundtrack recorded by Victoria Matlock, the awesome actress I'd seen last week.
Although, I wasn't able to locate any CD's, I did discover that Victoria Matlock graduated from Skyline Highschool in good ol' SLC in 1995. Too bad I went to Hillcrest, otherwise this could have been one of those "I knew her when...." moments.
Since y'all weren't there with me to see how cool this was, I also found a couple bootleg youtube postings of her performances:
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Mystery Allergy
It was neither a cold or the flu from which I suffered. To the best of my knowledge viruses do not work on a time clock, and my symptoms were punching in at 5 PM and punching out at 5 AM.
What I had were allergies, but I couldn't begin to guess the source of my suffering. The pollen count was low and we'd been in a dry spell for weeks so mildew wasn't much of a possibility either.
But I suppose that doesn't matter anymore because to my great relief it rained last week and washed whatever it was out of the air and I can breath again.
What I had were allergies, but I couldn't begin to guess the source of my suffering. The pollen count was low and we'd been in a dry spell for weeks so mildew wasn't much of a possibility either.
But I suppose that doesn't matter anymore because to my great relief it rained last week and washed whatever it was out of the air and I can breath again.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Viruses Among Us
Viruses -- those mean, vicious, dirty, stubborn, annoying organisms that wreck havoc upon their unsuspecting victims-- have attempted to break down my best defenses.
I am of course referring the microscopic variety, not to be confused with the plush version.
Nor am I referencing the kind which can be seen walking upright on two legs. (Sorry no examples. I've found that taking a picture of this one insures it will follow you around for good two weeks.)
The microscopic bugger that's got me in it's cross-hairs has yet to be identified. Is it the flu, cold, or influenza? I don't know yet. And where is it from? Also unknown. It could have been my coworker, my roommate, a friend, or that weirdo on the subway who kept sneezing on me.
Regardless, it's just me against the disease now, and I'm bulking up on my arsenal. I've got nasal sprays, decongestants, airborne tablets, ibuprophen, orange juice, zinc chews, and really anything else the clerk at the store is willing to sell me.
Sales Clerk 1: My mom says that eating pretzels knocks out a cold. *
Sales Clerk 2: Try eating an entire canister of tootsie rolls.*
Sales Clerk 3: This one always works. If you chew on this doggy treat for three days, there's no way that cold will stick around. *
(* comments do not accurately reflect real sales clerk suggestions and are included for comedic effect only. I have NEVER eaten a doggy treat, really I haven't. I swear. ;) )
So far so good. Other than a serious headache about every 10 hours when I need to take another decongestant, I haven't developed any additional symptoms, so here's hoping I can out last the virus siege. But just to be on the safe side, perhaps I should look into buying some of those doggy treats................or perhaps I should consider visiting my doctor.
I am of course referring the microscopic variety, not to be confused with the plush version.
(available at thinkgeek.com. This is my favorite.)
Nor am I referencing the kind which can be seen walking upright on two legs. (Sorry no examples. I've found that taking a picture of this one insures it will follow you around for good two weeks.)
The microscopic bugger that's got me in it's cross-hairs has yet to be identified. Is it the flu, cold, or influenza? I don't know yet. And where is it from? Also unknown. It could have been my coworker, my roommate, a friend, or that weirdo on the subway who kept sneezing on me.
Regardless, it's just me against the disease now, and I'm bulking up on my arsenal. I've got nasal sprays, decongestants, airborne tablets, ibuprophen, orange juice, zinc chews, and really anything else the clerk at the store is willing to sell me.
Sales Clerk 1: My mom says that eating pretzels knocks out a cold. *
Sales Clerk 2: Try eating an entire canister of tootsie rolls.*
Sales Clerk 3: This one always works. If you chew on this doggy treat for three days, there's no way that cold will stick around. *
(* comments do not accurately reflect real sales clerk suggestions and are included for comedic effect only. I have NEVER eaten a doggy treat, really I haven't. I swear. ;) )
So far so good. Other than a serious headache about every 10 hours when I need to take another decongestant, I haven't developed any additional symptoms, so here's hoping I can out last the virus siege. But just to be on the safe side, perhaps I should look into buying some of those doggy treats................or perhaps I should consider visiting my doctor.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Pothole Damage
Today I received an email from a noted car repair company with the title "8 Signs of Pothole Damage," which got my creative juices flowing.
Here is my version:
8 Signs of Pothole Damage
1. Car is stuck in a hole
2. Sudden loss of a tire
3. Exhaust system is missing
4. A river of car fluid trails behind you
5. Car becomes 4 inches shorter
6. Feels like you are driving a galloping, 3-legged grizzly bear
7. You drive a car in Boston
8. All of the Above ;o)
Here is my version:
8 Signs of Pothole Damage
1. Car is stuck in a hole
2. Sudden loss of a tire
3. Exhaust system is missing
4. A river of car fluid trails behind you
5. Car becomes 4 inches shorter
6. Feels like you are driving a galloping, 3-legged grizzly bear
7. You drive a car in Boston
8. All of the Above ;o)
Friday, August 31, 2007
White Trash Cooking
I found this humdinger of cookbook in the bargain bin at Barnes and Nobles a few years back, but never got around to trying any of the recipes. I'd even forgotten that I owned it until I was unpacking my new apartment.
After reviewing it with my roommates and ruling out some of the recipes which involved some unorthodox techniques,
"When the cooter (turtle) sticks his head out, cut it off with a hatchet."
I selected Peanut Butter Bacon Bread:
The loaves looked magnificent and absolutely nummy. However, when it comes to food, presentation can only get you so far. Those who were willing to venture a taste of my little experiment tried to be polite, but not a single person could claim that the bacon-flecked bread appealed to their taste buds.
But I wasn't ready to give up on the recipe quite yet. One of my co-workers has a theory that anything can be made better by adding bacon or chocolate. Since bacon obviously failed in this recipe I thought perhaps chocolate might be a better choice so I made a few modifications.
Monday, August 27, 2007
The Hydrant
Someone once said, "Some days your the dog and some days your the hydrant." This would be a hydrant day.
To quote an email that I wrote today:
"Guilt I'm afraid is one of my the 4 basic food groups today, along with crow, humble pie, and my words. I'm afraid this diet might be a little high in fiber so I could be feeling the effects for awhile.
To quote an email that I wrote today:
"Guilt I'm afraid is one of my the 4 basic food groups today, along with crow, humble pie, and my words. I'm afraid this diet might be a little high in fiber so I could be feeling the effects for awhile.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
So If Not a Dog, How About a Skunk?
I'm afraid I will have to put to rest my desire to adopt a pooch, at least for the time being. I'm moving into my new apartment tonight, and a canine pal wasn't included in the lease.
But there is another option. When I went walking past my soon-to-be new apartment, I saw what appeared to be a cat rolling around on the sidewalk. Noting that something didn't seem quite right, I stopped for a moment until I realized that what I was actually watching was a skunk waddling away.
Upon recognizing it for what it was, my immediate thought was "Cool a skunk! Let's chase it." Fortunately that impulse was immediately squashed by the logic portion of my brain that quickly ran through the following fallacies with my plan:
As I waited for it to meander its way under the shrubbery by the front stoop of my soon-to-be apartment, an idea crossed my mind. It may not be a dog, but if this stinker lives in or under my house, I could call it my pet. I sure ain't going to play fetch with it, but if I see it again, I'm going to start calling it my guard dog and name him "Socks." ;o)
But there is another option. When I went walking past my soon-to-be new apartment, I saw what appeared to be a cat rolling around on the sidewalk. Noting that something didn't seem quite right, I stopped for a moment until I realized that what I was actually watching was a skunk waddling away.
Upon recognizing it for what it was, my immediate thought was "Cool a skunk! Let's chase it." Fortunately that impulse was immediately squashed by the logic portion of my brain that quickly ran through the following fallacies with my plan:
- If you chase a skunk, you will get sprayed.
- You cannot remove the smell of skunk from your clothes, and I liked my current outfit.
- Having never being sprayed before, I wasn't sure if and for how long the smell sticks to your skin.
- Consider the embarrassment of having to call in "smelly" to work? "I can't come in to work today.......Oh no, I'm feeling fine. It's just that I was sprayed by a skunk last night.... Yeah right in front of my house.........It jumped out of nowhere......tomato juice? I'll have to give that a try........could you do me a favor and not mention this to my coworker?........Oh, I'm on speaker phone.......
As I waited for it to meander its way under the shrubbery by the front stoop of my soon-to-be apartment, an idea crossed my mind. It may not be a dog, but if this stinker lives in or under my house, I could call it my pet. I sure ain't going to play fetch with it, but if I see it again, I'm going to start calling it my guard dog and name him "Socks." ;o)
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
I want a dog
I think that all my problems in life would be solved if I had a dog--not a really big one, not a mean one, and most definitely not a fluffy, white, yappy one. Just a nice medium sized dog like this one.
Some of you may be thinking, "Why in heaven's name do you want a dog? You live in an apartment without a yard. You work all day. A dog is so much work. Why a dog?" If you are asking that question then you probably aren't a dog person.
All those things are true. It would make it more difficult to find housing and having a pet would most definitely change my routine, but I'm okay with that. Until I moved to Boston I ALWAYS had a dog. I walked it, I fed it, I took it to the vet, and I housebroke it. That's not to say that life was perfect. There were plenty of times that I had to clean up some really nasty messes, but it came with the territory.
There's just something comforting about having a dog around, not for safety sake (most of my pet dogs would have cuddled up to a robber), but just because.
Some of you may be thinking, "Why in heaven's name do you want a dog? You live in an apartment without a yard. You work all day. A dog is so much work. Why a dog?" If you are asking that question then you probably aren't a dog person.
All those things are true. It would make it more difficult to find housing and having a pet would most definitely change my routine, but I'm okay with that. Until I moved to Boston I ALWAYS had a dog. I walked it, I fed it, I took it to the vet, and I housebroke it. That's not to say that life was perfect. There were plenty of times that I had to clean up some really nasty messes, but it came with the territory.
There's just something comforting about having a dog around, not for safety sake (most of my pet dogs would have cuddled up to a robber), but just because.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
I'm not dead yet......I think I'll go for a walk
There are simply some days for which you feel fortunate to be able to utter the words in the title. Today would be one of those days.
A friend recently asked me quite casually, "How's life?"
This ought to be a rather simple question to answer, yet I struggled and ended up simply answering 42. For those who have not read nor seen "Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy," 42 is the answer to life, the universe, and everything. Don't worry if you don't get it--it's a geek thing.
Anyway the point is that I could not really give him an answer to "how is life?" because I quite honestly don't know. My life is in complete flux, and you really can't declare a winner or loser until the votes are counted (and recounted if Florida is involved). I could venture a guess that in the end I'll still be reasonably alive and healthy, so I suppose I could have answered, "It'll be good." But he probably would have questioned my ability to use proper English grammar, and I wouldn't want nobody think I wasn't learned good.
So rather than sitting down and specifically recounting what is and is not happening in the major areas of my life, I think I'll stick with my first answer which is 42, and go for a walk.
A friend recently asked me quite casually, "How's life?"
This ought to be a rather simple question to answer, yet I struggled and ended up simply answering 42. For those who have not read nor seen "Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy," 42 is the answer to life, the universe, and everything. Don't worry if you don't get it--it's a geek thing.
Anyway the point is that I could not really give him an answer to "how is life?" because I quite honestly don't know. My life is in complete flux, and you really can't declare a winner or loser until the votes are counted (and recounted if Florida is involved). I could venture a guess that in the end I'll still be reasonably alive and healthy, so I suppose I could have answered, "It'll be good." But he probably would have questioned my ability to use proper English grammar, and I wouldn't want nobody think I wasn't learned good.
So rather than sitting down and specifically recounting what is and is not happening in the major areas of my life, I think I'll stick with my first answer which is 42, and go for a walk.
Thursday, August 2, 2007
And then she said...........
A sampling of some of the hilarious, if not absolutely ridiculous, things people have said to me recently:
While checking out at the grocery store.......
The cashier scanned a box of Gas Ex and loudly asks, "Gas Ex? Does this stuff really work?"
I went to the doctor for a check up, and she started going through the pre-visit check list......
"Sexually active?"
"No."
With real concern, almost shock,"What's wrong?"
"I haven't for religious reasons."
"Good for you. Good for.... Wait so you've never?"
"No, I'm one of the few 29 year old virgins out there."
"Good for you. Good for..... So is there anyone?"
"I date."
"But is there a special guy?"
"There are several guys I'm interested in."
And just think that was only the beginning of the exam. I still had a good 20 minutes left.
When I was wearing a shirt with an empire waistline.........
When I approached a coworker who appeared to be having a bad day.........
"Are you okay?" I asked
"Obviously not, and neither are you," she responded
While checking out at the grocery store.......
The cashier scanned a box of Gas Ex and loudly asks, "Gas Ex? Does this stuff really work?"
I went to the doctor for a check up, and she started going through the pre-visit check list......
"Sexually active?"
"No."
With real concern, almost shock,"What's wrong?"
"I haven't for religious reasons."
"Good for you. Good for.... Wait so you've never?"
"No, I'm one of the few 29 year old virgins out there."
"Good for you. Good for..... So is there anyone?"
"I date."
"But is there a special guy?"
"There are several guys I'm interested in."
And just think that was only the beginning of the exam. I still had a good 20 minutes left.
When I was wearing a shirt with an empire waistline.........
a pseudo coworker who hadn't seen me in a while came running up to me, "Are you pregnant?" and then proceeded to put her hand on my stomach.
I burst out laughing. Now the joke amongst my friends is to ask, "Does this shirt make me look pregnant?"
I burst out laughing. Now the joke amongst my friends is to ask, "Does this shirt make me look pregnant?"
When I approached a coworker who appeared to be having a bad day.........
"Obviously not, and neither are you," she responded
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Harry Potter in Hogwarts Square
I know what you are thinking, this is soooooo last week, but I unfortunately have a one week lag time when it comes to these things.
Anyway, for one night and one night only Harvard Square became Hogwarts Square. This was so big that, based on the picture below, either
a) All the news stations in town stopped in to cover it
The purpose behind all this commotion was that the 7th and final Harry Potter book came out last Saturday at 12:01 AM. People throughout Cambridge and the lands far and wide had ordered their books from the Harvard Bookstore in Harvard Square with the intention of picking up their book as soon as they hit the market on Saturday, and the Business Association of Harvard Square thought,
The square itself was not dressed up but those who visited did. Check out Dumbledore and his girlfriends.
a Weasley relative and friend
and someone swiped the sorting hat.
My friends and I went to UNO's for dinner where Adrianne attempted magic our waiting buzzer.
Unfortunately it didn't work, and we waited another 15 minutes before we were finally seated. We had a lovely dinner of pizza and UNO favorites renamed in honor of the Pottermania of the evening.
After dinner we headed over to Harva...ur...Hogwarts Yard to see the Potter inspired bands. We had unfortunately missed the Hungarian Horntails as well as Draco and the Malfoys, but we did get to see Harry and the Potters whose songs were based on plot lines and scenarios from the book. There was a ditty about Umbridge, one about Hagrid's beard and another about saving Jeanie from Dean.
I'm afraid my pictures for this part of the evening didn't turn out well, but everyone was having a lot of fun and I'm glad I had the chance to experience this once in a life time event. ;o)
Anyway, for one night and one night only Harvard Square became Hogwarts Square. This was so big that, based on the picture below, either
a) All the news stations in town stopped in to cover it
or
b) 4 extra terrestrials thought it would be a good cover for them to "phone home"
The purpose behind all this commotion was that the 7th and final Harry Potter book came out last Saturday at 12:01 AM. People throughout Cambridge and the lands far and wide had ordered their books from the Harvard Bookstore in Harvard Square with the intention of picking up their book as soon as they hit the market on Saturday, and the Business Association of Harvard Square thought,
"$$cha-ching$$"
The square itself was not dressed up but those who visited did. Check out Dumbledore and his girlfriends.
a Weasley relative and friend
and someone swiped the sorting hat.
My friends and I went to UNO's for dinner where Adrianne attempted magic our waiting buzzer.
Unfortunately it didn't work, and we waited another 15 minutes before we were finally seated. We had a lovely dinner of pizza and UNO favorites renamed in honor of the Pottermania of the evening.
After dinner we headed over to Harva...ur...Hogwarts Yard to see the Potter inspired bands. We had unfortunately missed the Hungarian Horntails as well as Draco and the Malfoys, but we did get to see Harry and the Potters whose songs were based on plot lines and scenarios from the book. There was a ditty about Umbridge, one about Hagrid's beard and another about saving Jeanie from Dean.
I'm afraid my pictures for this part of the evening didn't turn out well, but everyone was having a lot of fun and I'm glad I had the chance to experience this once in a life time event. ;o)
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
New York or dating
It's been 24 days since my interview in New York, and no word at all on the internship. I'm afraid I'm beginning to lose confidence.
But no worries, there's some good news about not moving to New York. If you will, please refer to the map below. I clipped it out of the February 2007 National Geographic (fyi--there are always fascinating yet odd tidbits about love in the Feb. editions). This particular map shows the distribution of single people across the country. The blue dots are male, and the orange dots are female.
If you'll take a quick look at the map, you can see what I call a middle school dance phenomena. All the guys on one side and all the girls on the other. ;o)
Now click on the map to take a closer look at Boston versus New York. I like dating. Dating is a good thing, and for some reason I find Boston's demographic a little more encouraging than New York's. I mean 185,000 more females than males, come on.
So although I may not get my dream internship in NYC, I can take comfort in knowing I have a better chance of finding a boyfriend in Boston. But then again I've always wanted to live in Seattle or maybe LA. I wonder what internships I might find there. ;o)
But no worries, there's some good news about not moving to New York. If you will, please refer to the map below. I clipped it out of the February 2007 National Geographic (fyi--there are always fascinating yet odd tidbits about love in the Feb. editions). This particular map shows the distribution of single people across the country. The blue dots are male, and the orange dots are female.
If you'll take a quick look at the map, you can see what I call a middle school dance phenomena. All the guys on one side and all the girls on the other. ;o)
Now click on the map to take a closer look at Boston versus New York. I like dating. Dating is a good thing, and for some reason I find Boston's demographic a little more encouraging than New York's. I mean 185,000 more females than males, come on.
So although I may not get my dream internship in NYC, I can take comfort in knowing I have a better chance of finding a boyfriend in Boston. But then again I've always wanted to live in Seattle or maybe LA. I wonder what internships I might find there. ;o)
Monday, July 23, 2007
Please define Suffolk
I work at a law school, and we often receive some unusual questions, which I can generally answer or refer to more appropriate office, but this one had me stumped.
Me: Good morning Suffolk Law School
Lady: Yes, can you tell me what the law school is named for?
Me: Since we are located in Suffolk County, I would assume we are named after the county.
Lady: And what does the word Suffolk mean?
Me: Sorry?
Lady: If you are named after it, it must be of the utmost importance.
Me: I'm afraid I don't know what it means.
Lady: Well how many counties are in Massachusetts?
Me: I'm a Massachusetts transplant, I don't know that one either.
The conversation got worse from there. I soon felt like I was on an episode of "Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader?" and apparently I am not.
After the woman hung up, I did a quick Google search and I can now tell you that:
Me: Good morning Suffolk Law School
Lady: Yes, can you tell me what the law school is named for?
Me: Since we are located in Suffolk County, I would assume we are named after the county.
Lady: And what does the word Suffolk mean?
Me: Sorry?
Lady: If you are named after it, it must be of the utmost importance.
Me: I'm afraid I don't know what it means.
Lady: Well how many counties are in Massachusetts?
Me: I'm a Massachusetts transplant, I don't know that one either.
The conversation got worse from there. I soon felt like I was on an episode of "Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader?" and apparently I am not.
After the woman hung up, I did a quick Google search and I can now tell you that:
- Suffolk County was named after a county in eastern England and the word means "southern people" as opposed to Norfolk County which means "northern people."
- There are 14 counties in Massachusetts
- Suffolk County is 58.52 square miles
- The Massachusetts state cookie is chocolate chip ;o)
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Name that Religion
Who would have thought that finding out that I am Morman could inspire such an entertaining conversation:
Coworker 1 "You're Mormon? You don't meet that many of them."
Me "There aren't so many out this way, but there's quite a few out west."
Coworker 1 "Wait.....who are those people in Utah. Quakers?"
Me "Uh....Mormons."
Coworker 1 "Mormons, really? I met a Mormon once when I ran a B and B. He was real nice, but I really like the Quaker commercials."
Coworker 2 "You mean the oatmeal?"
Coworker 1 "No, these real nice commercials."
Me "The Mormons do a lot of commericials about families."
Coworker 1 "Oh that's it. You really do some great commercials."
And the conversation got worse as we moved to another coworker's desk.
Me to Coworker 3 "Did you know I'm a Quaker."
Coworker 3 "Aren't you Mormon?"
Coworker 1 "I get the Quakers and the Mormons mixed up."
Coworker 3 "Quakers do the furniture."
Me "The Quakers don't do furniture. You sure you're not thinking of the Amish?"
Coworker 3 "No, the Quakers make this furniture with a simple design."
Coworker 1 "You mean Shaker furniture?"
Coworker 3 "Shaker, Quaker, baker, whatever."
At this point I'm dying with laughter. Welcome to Religion 101, and it's going to be a tough course. ;o)
Coworker 1 "You're Mormon? You don't meet that many of them."
Me "There aren't so many out this way, but there's quite a few out west."
Coworker 1 "Wait.....who are those people in Utah. Quakers?"
Me "Uh....Mormons."
Coworker 1 "Mormons, really? I met a Mormon once when I ran a B and B. He was real nice, but I really like the Quaker commercials."
Coworker 2 "You mean the oatmeal?"
Coworker 1 "No, these real nice commercials."
Me "The Mormons do a lot of commericials about families."
Coworker 1 "Oh that's it. You really do some great commercials."
And the conversation got worse as we moved to another coworker's desk.
Me to Coworker 3 "Did you know I'm a Quaker."
Coworker 3 "Aren't you Mormon?"
Coworker 1 "I get the Quakers and the Mormons mixed up."
Coworker 3 "Quakers do the furniture."
Me "The Quakers don't do furniture. You sure you're not thinking of the Amish?"
Coworker 3 "No, the Quakers make this furniture with a simple design."
Coworker 1 "You mean Shaker furniture?"
Coworker 3 "Shaker, Quaker, baker, whatever."
At this point I'm dying with laughter. Welcome to Religion 101, and it's going to be a tough course. ;o)
Thursday, July 12, 2007
"Ain't" ain't a word but "Ginormous" is
The truth is that "ain't" is indeed a word. Don't believe me? It's in most major English dictionaries.
Each year about 50 new words are deemed legitmate and inducted into word-dom (which happens to be a non-word that I think will be on next year's list ;o).
I have also learned that my much loved and almost favorite non-word "ginormous" is finally being welcomed into the covers of the Merriam-Webster dictionary along with a number of other non-words which can all be viewed at http://www.m-w.com/info/newwords07.htm .
Perhaps you are wondering how a non-word earns this great honor. Well, "ginormous" did it by winning a popularity contest. It stayed in the rankings for the top ten favorite non-words for a period of years before it was considered. If you'd like to stay on top of the new terminology before it becomes terminology, you can check out the favorite non-word list at: at http://www.m-w.com/info/favorite.htm.
And for the few of you who may scoff at American English and dictionaries, you can see the new British English words in the Oxford dictionary: http://www.askoxford.com/worldofwords/newwords/?view=uk
Each year about 50 new words are deemed legitmate and inducted into word-dom (which happens to be a non-word that I think will be on next year's list ;o).
I have also learned that my much loved and almost favorite non-word "ginormous" is finally being welcomed into the covers of the Merriam-Webster dictionary along with a number of other non-words which can all be viewed at http://www.m-w.com/info/newwords07.htm .
Perhaps you are wondering how a non-word earns this great honor. Well, "ginormous" did it by winning a popularity contest. It stayed in the rankings for the top ten favorite non-words for a period of years before it was considered. If you'd like to stay on top of the new terminology before it becomes terminology, you can check out the favorite non-word list at: at http://www.m-w.com/info/favorite.htm.
And for the few of you who may scoff at American English and dictionaries, you can see the new British English words in the Oxford dictionary: http://www.askoxford.com/worldofwords/newwords/?view=uk
Sunday, July 8, 2007
BINGO - It's flapjack time
As promised in my 6/5/07 entry:
After searching the internet far and wide for Irish flapjack recipes, I did some experimenting in the kitchen, and I believe I have finally settled on the recipe I'd like to share with you all. Although, I've been informed that it might not be the most authentic recipe, I can assure you that it's darn close to the first flapjack I had in Ireland.
I hope you enjoy!!!
Chocolate-covered Flapjacks
1/3 cup walnuts (finely chopped)
1/4 cup chopped coconut (or granola, puffed-rice cereal, rolled oats)
1/3 cup bran (oat or wheat)
3/4 cup quick oats
2/3 cup condensed milk
1 teaspoon molasses
1 1/4 C. dark chocolate chips
Line an 8x8 cake pan with enough parchment paper so it extends up the sides of the pan
Mix together in a bowl the walnuts, coconut, bran, and oats with a wooden spoon.
In a small saucepan, heat the molasses and condensed milk. When warm and thoroughly blended, remove from heat and pour into the bowl with the oat mixture. Mix well with a wooden spoon. Scoop the mixture into the baking pan, pressing down evenly all over and bake in the centre of the oven for about 25 minutes at 350ºF or until golden brown. After that leave it to get quite cold.
Melt the dark chocolate in a heatproof bowl set over a pan of barely simmering water (make sure the bowl doesn't touch the water). Lift the oat mixture out of the pan by pulling the exposed edges of the parchment paper. Loosen it from the parchment paper and turn it out upside down onto a plate. Spoon the melted chocolate onto the cake and spread evenly. Then just cool the cake in the fridge for about an hour and cut it into 16 bars.
After searching the internet far and wide for Irish flapjack recipes, I did some experimenting in the kitchen, and I believe I have finally settled on the recipe I'd like to share with you all. Although, I've been informed that it might not be the most authentic recipe, I can assure you that it's darn close to the first flapjack I had in Ireland.
I hope you enjoy!!!
Chocolate-covered Flapjacks
1/3 cup walnuts (finely chopped)
1/4 cup chopped coconut (or granola, puffed-rice cereal, rolled oats)
1/3 cup bran (oat or wheat)
3/4 cup quick oats
2/3 cup condensed milk
1 teaspoon molasses
1 1/4 C. dark chocolate chips
Line an 8x8 cake pan with enough parchment paper so it extends up the sides of the pan
Mix together in a bowl the walnuts, coconut, bran, and oats with a wooden spoon.
In a small saucepan, heat the molasses and condensed milk. When warm and thoroughly blended, remove from heat and pour into the bowl with the oat mixture. Mix well with a wooden spoon. Scoop the mixture into the baking pan, pressing down evenly all over and bake in the centre of the oven for about 25 minutes at 350ºF or until golden brown. After that leave it to get quite cold.
Melt the dark chocolate in a heatproof bowl set over a pan of barely simmering water (make sure the bowl doesn't touch the water). Lift the oat mixture out of the pan by pulling the exposed edges of the parchment paper. Loosen it from the parchment paper and turn it out upside down onto a plate. Spoon the melted chocolate onto the cake and spread evenly. Then just cool the cake in the fridge for about an hour and cut it into 16 bars.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Tuxedo at a Square Dance
While driving ridiculous speeds along I-84 from NYC to Boston at 1 AM, downing Diet Cokes, and rocking out to hard rock, reggae, and 90's favorites (I still can't get "but you said he's just a friend" out of my head) I had some time to contemplate this trip from which I was returning.
Imagine yourself dressed to the hilt in a ball gown or tuxedo headed to a "fancy" event. You check and recheck your hair or makeup while you travel. You take every precaution that you'll arrive on time, and then upon walking through the door you discover you are at a square dance, and everyone else is wearing jeans. Can you say awkward? Good, I knew you could.
That would my experience on Monday. I went in to NYC for an internship interview for a children's television production. After listening to some very sage advice I made sure I looked as professional as possible. I purchased a suit, straightened my hair, and even had a manicure. I arrived 15 minutes early, only to discover that I was WAY over-dressed. Everyone else in the office was wearing jeans, t-shirts, and khakis. I looked like a lawyer, ready to serve papers. I'm just hoping that the suit wasn't a deterrent, and I still get the internship.
Keep your fingers crossed for me, and I'll keep you posted on the result.
Imagine yourself dressed to the hilt in a ball gown or tuxedo headed to a "fancy" event. You check and recheck your hair or makeup while you travel. You take every precaution that you'll arrive on time, and then upon walking through the door you discover you are at a square dance, and everyone else is wearing jeans. Can you say awkward? Good, I knew you could.
That would my experience on Monday. I went in to NYC for an internship interview for a children's television production. After listening to some very sage advice I made sure I looked as professional as possible. I purchased a suit, straightened my hair, and even had a manicure. I arrived 15 minutes early, only to discover that I was WAY over-dressed. Everyone else in the office was wearing jeans, t-shirts, and khakis. I looked like a lawyer, ready to serve papers. I'm just hoping that the suit wasn't a deterrent, and I still get the internship.
Keep your fingers crossed for me, and I'll keep you posted on the result.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
One Day More
Ireland - Day 6
One last day in Ireland.
A few days back, a couple of Scotsmen at my B&B informed me that ALL Americans go to Kilkenny while visiting Ireland. Although they couldn't explain why that is, I decided that it my obligation as an American to at least take a look.
While traveling from Oranmore to Kilkenny, I passed through a vast valley flanked on every side by towering mountains, at which point I had a bit of a Dorothy and Oz moment. I was in a place that geographically reminded me of my hometown in Utah, but in technicolor.
It was like a far greener, less densely populated Salt Lake Valley, void of any air pollution. I'm sure you don't believe me, and I wish I had proof. I would have taken a picture while driving, but I didn't want to further tarnish my Irish driving record with reckless driving.
Upon my arriving at Kilkenny I believe I discovered why Americans go there: good shopping. The town provides a wide array of shops filled with traditional Irish items like linens and Aran sweaters, all in one compact area. Since I'd already done most of my souvenirs shopping, it didn't take long to browse the linen, sweater, and craft stores before I was headed back to Adare.
Adare is the ideal place to start an Ireland vacation. It's close to the Shannon airport, the roads through town are wider than most so you can practice driving on the left side of the road, and it's a beautiful town with thatch roofed cottages.
A well-manicured park
And even the ruined castle is picturesque
The best part of Adare is the Chinese Restaurant that gives you the option of rice or chips with every entree. ;0)
One last day in Ireland.
A few days back, a couple of Scotsmen at my B&B informed me that ALL Americans go to Kilkenny while visiting Ireland. Although they couldn't explain why that is, I decided that it my obligation as an American to at least take a look.
While traveling from Oranmore to Kilkenny, I passed through a vast valley flanked on every side by towering mountains, at which point I had a bit of a Dorothy and Oz moment. I was in a place that geographically reminded me of my hometown in Utah, but in technicolor.
It was like a far greener, less densely populated Salt Lake Valley, void of any air pollution. I'm sure you don't believe me, and I wish I had proof. I would have taken a picture while driving, but I didn't want to further tarnish my Irish driving record with reckless driving.
Upon my arriving at Kilkenny I believe I discovered why Americans go there: good shopping. The town provides a wide array of shops filled with traditional Irish items like linens and Aran sweaters, all in one compact area. Since I'd already done most of my souvenirs shopping, it didn't take long to browse the linen, sweater, and craft stores before I was headed back to Adare.
Adare is the ideal place to start an Ireland vacation. It's close to the Shannon airport, the roads through town are wider than most so you can practice driving on the left side of the road, and it's a beautiful town with thatch roofed cottages.
A well-manicured park
And even the ruined castle is picturesque
The best part of Adare is the Chinese Restaurant that gives you the option of rice or chips with every entree. ;0)
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Plan B
Ireland - Day 5
Today's plan was to go to Fleadh Nua, a music festival in Ennis. I saw a couple jam sessions, but thanks to last night's dinner consisting entirely of chocolate, I wasn't feeling very good. Instead, I decided to go back to the Burren and see the parts I'd missed the day before.
Like discovering I didn't need to take a plane back to Boston.
Or see a home that's under siege by sheep.
I also practiced my Vanna White skills at Poulnabrone Dolmen, a megalithic tomb. I asked a nice Frenchman to take my picture for this one.
Near lunch time I discovered flapjacks. My fellow Americans may believe flapjacks to be pancakes, but in Ireland the term is used to describe a super yummy oatbar which is sometimes found topped with a layer of chocolate. I'm going to look into flapjack recipes when I'm home, and I'll make sure to post the recipes I like best.
In the evening I head back toward Galway and the Salthills for dinner, and I couldn't stop laughing when I saw the Prom Hotel. Look closely and you'll see that there is no hotel beyond the facade. Me thinks I smell a trap.
Oh and can I just tell you the beaches in Galway are GORGEOUS!!!
Today's plan was to go to Fleadh Nua, a music festival in Ennis. I saw a couple jam sessions, but thanks to last night's dinner consisting entirely of chocolate, I wasn't feeling very good. Instead, I decided to go back to the Burren and see the parts I'd missed the day before.
Like discovering I didn't need to take a plane back to Boston.
Or see a home that's under siege by sheep.
I also practiced my Vanna White skills at Poulnabrone Dolmen, a megalithic tomb. I asked a nice Frenchman to take my picture for this one.
Near lunch time I discovered flapjacks. My fellow Americans may believe flapjacks to be pancakes, but in Ireland the term is used to describe a super yummy oatbar which is sometimes found topped with a layer of chocolate. I'm going to look into flapjack recipes when I'm home, and I'll make sure to post the recipes I like best.
In the evening I head back toward Galway and the Salthills for dinner, and I couldn't stop laughing when I saw the Prom Hotel. Look closely and you'll see that there is no hotel beyond the facade. Me thinks I smell a trap.
Oh and can I just tell you the beaches in Galway are GORGEOUS!!!
Sunday, June 3, 2007
The Burren
Ireland - Day 4
"It is a country where there is not enough water to drown a man, wood enough to hang one, nor earth enough to bury him"
-Edmund Lundlow, regarding the Burren-
Today I was off to see to the Burren (pronounced burn) meaning 'rocky place' in Irish. Although the guidebooks highly recommended a visit to the area, they did a poor job of making it sound appealing. Based on their descriptions I was expecting a giant slab of limestone with a bunch of plant life growing in the nooks and crannies. Doesn't that sound exciting? But I have to tell you. I absolutely LOVED the Burren. I drove along the shore line.
and gazed at the white beaches (minus the sand)
And read odd signs in the bathroom
The best part was by far the Cliffs of Moher. Perhaps you know them better as the Cliffs of Insanity from Princess Bride.
Along the edge of the cliffs is a trail that is marked as out of bounds signs and safety warnings. As I was jumping over the wall back into the inbounds area, I heard the quote of the day. One girl was trying to convince her friend to join her on the trail.
GIRL 1: Look, everyone else is doing it.
GIRL 2: And if they jumped off, would you too?
Oh and here's a picture of me by the ocean thanks to the self-timer on my camera.
"It is a country where there is not enough water to drown a man, wood enough to hang one, nor earth enough to bury him"
-Edmund Lundlow, regarding the Burren-
Today I was off to see to the Burren (pronounced burn) meaning 'rocky place' in Irish. Although the guidebooks highly recommended a visit to the area, they did a poor job of making it sound appealing. Based on their descriptions I was expecting a giant slab of limestone with a bunch of plant life growing in the nooks and crannies. Doesn't that sound exciting? But I have to tell you. I absolutely LOVED the Burren. I drove along the shore line.
and gazed at the white beaches (minus the sand)
And read odd signs in the bathroom
The best part was by far the Cliffs of Moher. Perhaps you know them better as the Cliffs of Insanity from Princess Bride.
Along the edge of the cliffs is a trail that is marked as out of bounds signs and safety warnings. As I was jumping over the wall back into the inbounds area, I heard the quote of the day. One girl was trying to convince her friend to join her on the trail.
GIRL 1: Look, everyone else is doing it.
GIRL 2: And if they jumped off, would you too?
Oh and here's a picture of me by the ocean thanks to the self-timer on my camera.
Saturday, June 2, 2007
What's in the middle???
Ireland - Day 3
On this my third day in Ireland I had my first traditional Irish breakfast, something for your inner carnivore. It consists of a couple pieces of bacon, two- links of sausage, a few pieces of unidentified meat pudding, fried eggs, and a bit of toast. Note to self: order a non-traditional Irish breakfast in the future.
The middle of Ireland is beautiful and peaceful. However, I was a bit concerned when at Athlone castle where there is a cannon pointed at the hotel across the river. I couldn't ascertain the source of the hostilities, but when betting on a hotel or a cannon, I'll side with the cannon.
Later I headed over to Connemara in Co. Galway. The sights were stunningly beautiful, but the roads gave me quite a fright. Imagine a typical canyon road; twisty, narrow, no shoulders, full of blind corners, but with a speed limit of 100 km/h (60 mph). I thought surely no one would take these roads at that speed, but as the cars behind me tried to crawl up my tailpipe, I quickly discovered that I was wrong.
There is a fine art of being able to pull into the shrubbery to let the other cars pass without clobbering oneself or others. Not having mastered this skill, I ticked off quite a few Irishmen who were stuck behind me until I found a safe place to pull over. Fortunately, the rear window of my car clearly advertises in big lettering that I am driving a rental car, and are mostly likely a foreign idiot.
On this my third day in Ireland I had my first traditional Irish breakfast, something for your inner carnivore. It consists of a couple pieces of bacon, two- links of sausage, a few pieces of unidentified meat pudding, fried eggs, and a bit of toast. Note to self: order a non-traditional Irish breakfast in the future.
The middle of Ireland is beautiful and peaceful. However, I was a bit concerned when at Athlone castle where there is a cannon pointed at the hotel across the river. I couldn't ascertain the source of the hostilities, but when betting on a hotel or a cannon, I'll side with the cannon.
Later I headed over to Connemara in Co. Galway. The sights were stunningly beautiful, but the roads gave me quite a fright. Imagine a typical canyon road; twisty, narrow, no shoulders, full of blind corners, but with a speed limit of 100 km/h (60 mph). I thought surely no one would take these roads at that speed, but as the cars behind me tried to crawl up my tailpipe, I quickly discovered that I was wrong.
There is a fine art of being able to pull into the shrubbery to let the other cars pass without clobbering oneself or others. Not having mastered this skill, I ticked off quite a few Irishmen who were stuck behind me until I found a safe place to pull over. Fortunately, the rear window of my car clearly advertises in big lettering that I am driving a rental car, and are mostly likely a foreign idiot.
Friday, June 1, 2007
Discovering Dublin
Ireland - Day 2
After sleeping in as long as I possibly could, I set out to see Dublin. The first thing I discovered was that the Irish general elections was coming up soon. It was hard to miss since every lightpost far and wide was plastered with faces of candidates. Amongst them all I found the candidate for me.
I don't think his chances of winning are very good, but Bert's not such a bad candidate. Sure he'd have a nervous breakdown at least once a day, but at least you'd know he really cares.
There are a half-dozen main attractions that everyone must see in Dublin. I saw 2.5 of them: Grafton Street, Temple Bar, and Trinity College (without visiting the Book of Kells)
Instead, my top priorty was just looking around and taking in the sights, like the colorful doors of Dublin. Most older cities are a composite of blah colored stone buildings. Although this is also true of Dublin, the doors of each of the buildings is painted any number of cheerful, bright shades. You wouldn't think it would make that much of a difference, but the little patches of color in the city really brightens things up.
Favorite quote of the day: On my way to Athlone for the evening I got lost (go figure), and I stopped at a gas station to get directions.
ME: Excuse me sir, can you tell me where I am?
IRISHMAN: You're in the middle of Ireland.
After sleeping in as long as I possibly could, I set out to see Dublin. The first thing I discovered was that the Irish general elections was coming up soon. It was hard to miss since every lightpost far and wide was plastered with faces of candidates. Amongst them all I found the candidate for me.
I don't think his chances of winning are very good, but Bert's not such a bad candidate. Sure he'd have a nervous breakdown at least once a day, but at least you'd know he really cares.
There are a half-dozen main attractions that everyone must see in Dublin. I saw 2.5 of them: Grafton Street, Temple Bar, and Trinity College (without visiting the Book of Kells)
Instead, my top priorty was just looking around and taking in the sights, like the colorful doors of Dublin. Most older cities are a composite of blah colored stone buildings. Although this is also true of Dublin, the doors of each of the buildings is painted any number of cheerful, bright shades. You wouldn't think it would make that much of a difference, but the little patches of color in the city really brightens things up.
Favorite quote of the day: On my way to Athlone for the evening I got lost (go figure), and I stopped at a gas station to get directions.
ME: Excuse me sir, can you tell me where I am?
IRISHMAN: You're in the middle of Ireland.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Lost in Dublin
Ireland - Day 1
My vacation began with a rocky start. As I groggily walked off the plane at 5:30 AM, I was abruptly brought to my senses by the passport guy barking at me because I hadn't filled out a lodging card on the plane.
Then I got my car. If they had secretly filmed me I could have been a wonderful car commercial. Imagine an Irish accented voice saying, "To prove how durable our vehicles are we gave one to an untraveled, directionally-challenged American girl functioning on only two hours of sleep and let her loose in Dublin to find her hotel. Let's see how the car fared."
First, a bicyclist ran into the door. "No harm done," he said. "Just a bit of rubber from the handlebars on the door."
Second, I clipped a taxi cab with my passenger side mirror. The taxi driver came up. "No harm done. You just hit the mirror," he said flipping the mirror back into place.
Third, I clipped a bus with the same mirror. This time the mirror flipped in and the actual mirror popped out.
Fourth, I couldn't find my hotel thanks to one-way roads, hidden street signs, and my lack of maps. I did however see all of the greater Dublin area at least 4 or 5 times.
Fifth, I couldn't find reverse. Who would have thought that you had to do something other than put it into gear?
After 8 hours of driving around Dublin, I pulled into my hotel, parked my car and began checking out the city. My time was limited due to my keystone cop driving adventures, but I at least had a chance to realize that Dublin isn't such a bad city provided you aren't in a car.
My vacation began with a rocky start. As I groggily walked off the plane at 5:30 AM, I was abruptly brought to my senses by the passport guy barking at me because I hadn't filled out a lodging card on the plane.
Then I got my car. If they had secretly filmed me I could have been a wonderful car commercial. Imagine an Irish accented voice saying, "To prove how durable our vehicles are we gave one to an untraveled, directionally-challenged American girl functioning on only two hours of sleep and let her loose in Dublin to find her hotel. Let's see how the car fared."
First, a bicyclist ran into the door. "No harm done," he said. "Just a bit of rubber from the handlebars on the door."
Second, I clipped a taxi cab with my passenger side mirror. The taxi driver came up. "No harm done. You just hit the mirror," he said flipping the mirror back into place.
Third, I clipped a bus with the same mirror. This time the mirror flipped in and the actual mirror popped out.
Fourth, I couldn't find my hotel thanks to one-way roads, hidden street signs, and my lack of maps. I did however see all of the greater Dublin area at least 4 or 5 times.
Fifth, I couldn't find reverse. Who would have thought that you had to do something other than put it into gear?
After 8 hours of driving around Dublin, I pulled into my hotel, parked my car and began checking out the city. My time was limited due to my keystone cop driving adventures, but I at least had a chance to realize that Dublin isn't such a bad city provided you aren't in a car.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
My Adventures in the Emerald Isle
I have a really good excuse for not writing recently. I've been visiting my ancestral home... or ancestral country since I don't know where my ancestors lived. Anyway, I've been touring Ireland for the last week.
I'd like to share this experience with you all, but I don't feel like I could do it justice with just one entry so I'm going to do retroactive entries. Each day for the next week I'll be posting one day of my trip. Hopefully you'll enjoy reading about the silly, fun, mundane, and insightful happenings. And at the end I'll give you my advice on how to and how not to tour Ireland.
Ciao all!!!!
I'd like to share this experience with you all, but I don't feel like I could do it justice with just one entry so I'm going to do retroactive entries. Each day for the next week I'll be posting one day of my trip. Hopefully you'll enjoy reading about the silly, fun, mundane, and insightful happenings. And at the end I'll give you my advice on how to and how not to tour Ireland.
Ciao all!!!!
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Who Let the Bugs Out?
It is no secret that I tend to dislike any creature that has more than 4 leg. It is also well know that my distress to said animals increases with the number and length of the legs. So just imagine my response to a monster like this one which I found in my bathroom late, late, last night.
If you think it's ugly now, just imagine what it looked like after being repeatedly beaten with a sandal.
I wish I could say that I'd never before seen such a creature in my bathroom, but I cannot.
The first time was after I heard the blood-curtly screams of my roommate coming from the bathroom. She had seen the monster right before it scurried into a crack in the molding.
Since it still had a leg or two poking out, I knew exactly where it was. Grabbing a can of pressurized air, I gave it a little spritz which sent it airborne.
I'm used to bugs immediately dropping to the floor when disengaged from the wall thus facilitating easy squooshing. However, this monster's legs increased the air resistance so it drifted like a feather through the air landing gracefully into the garbage can. After quickly tying off the bag and dropping it outside, I couldn't stop laughing. The little creature had thrown itself away.
Too bad last nights visitor, wasn't quite so kind.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Tiffany's Box Debacle
It is with great humility I must admit that prior to two days ago I did not know what a Tiffany's Box looks like.
I have been informed that as a female I should be able to immediately identify the unmarked greenish/blue box tied with a white ribbon as coming from Tiffany's.
At work I was asked to purchase a Tiffany's Gift card which came wrapped in a box very much like the one in the picture. I was impressed with how lovely it looked and showed it to my coworkers. They in turn were completely dumbfounded that I didn't know that everything from Tiffany's comes in said boxes.
Initially, I thought I couldn't possibly be the only female with a lack of such knowledge. Unfortunately, after showing the box to various women and asking them where they think the present came from, I have not found a single woman who was stumped.
So if any of you out there could not correctly identify a Tiffany's box, here's your chance. Learn from my mistake and memorize the picture above so you can avoid my faux pas. ;o)
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
The Story of a Car
Once upon a time, in about 1970, Russia introduced the Lada, a snazzy, little vehicle that was economical and environmentally friendly.
It was so good for the environment that after a few years, it no longer needed gas or oil and began to biodegrade.
Sales for the Lada began to slump as Earth-savvy consumers selected transportation that was more reliable.
The Lada company hired the best engineer and designers to give the Lada a makeover for today’s consumer. It has taken almost a decade but the new Lada is about to be driven out of the factory. Behold, the New and Imporoved Lada!
pictures curtesy of englishrussia.com/?p=720
It was so good for the environment that after a few years, it no longer needed gas or oil and began to biodegrade.
Sales for the Lada began to slump as Earth-savvy consumers selected transportation that was more reliable.
The Lada company hired the best engineer and designers to give the Lada a makeover for today’s consumer. It has taken almost a decade but the new Lada is about to be driven out of the factory. Behold, the New and Imporoved Lada!
Now it comes in blue and doesn't smell like soup.
pictures curtesy of englishrussia.com/?p=720
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Spare Change Guy
My last entry reminds me of an experience I had with a panhandler.
I'm sure this man has a name, but everyone just calls him the Spare Change Guy because he stands on the corner and recites, "Do you got any spare change," slurring all the words together while hanging onto the vowels so it sounds like doooooyaaaaaagoooootaaaaaanyyyyyyspaaaarechaaaaaaange. Hence the name Spare Change Guy.
One day as I was walking into work from the subway I noticed that the people coming towards me kept glancing over their shoulders. Curious to know what they were looking at, I scanned my path and noticed a woman about 50 feet ahead of me. She was dressed is a nice blouse. Her hair was well styled, and she walked confidently in her high heel shoes. She was also wearing nylons and underwear. Yep, I said underwear, I know this because she lacked any sign of a skirt or trousers.
As she passed by the Spare Change Guy, he ran up to her shouting,
"Heeeeeylaaaadyyyyylaaaadyyyyy. Whaaaaathaaaaappeeeenedtoooooyoooooourpaaaaants?"
The poor woman was mortified. She was indeed wearing a skirt, but it had somehow become completely pushed up so there was absolutely no sign of it as she walked down the street. That day the Spare Change Guy deserved mad props for simply pointing out what no one else would. All the other pedestrians figured the woman was crazy and wouldn't say anything. It is was at that moment I realized that it is true, a person could indeed walk down the streets of Boston naked and no one would stop him/her.
I'm sure this man has a name, but everyone just calls him the Spare Change Guy because he stands on the corner and recites, "Do you got any spare change," slurring all the words together while hanging onto the vowels so it sounds like doooooyaaaaaagoooootaaaaaanyyyyyyspaaaarechaaaaaaange. Hence the name Spare Change Guy.
One day as I was walking into work from the subway I noticed that the people coming towards me kept glancing over their shoulders. Curious to know what they were looking at, I scanned my path and noticed a woman about 50 feet ahead of me. She was dressed is a nice blouse. Her hair was well styled, and she walked confidently in her high heel shoes. She was also wearing nylons and underwear. Yep, I said underwear, I know this because she lacked any sign of a skirt or trousers.
As she passed by the Spare Change Guy, he ran up to her shouting,
"Heeeeeylaaaadyyyyylaaaadyyyyy. Whaaaaathaaaaappeeeenedtoooooyoooooourpaaaaants?"
The poor woman was mortified. She was indeed wearing a skirt, but it had somehow become completely pushed up so there was absolutely no sign of it as she walked down the street. That day the Spare Change Guy deserved mad props for simply pointing out what no one else would. All the other pedestrians figured the woman was crazy and wouldn't say anything. It is was at that moment I realized that it is true, a person could indeed walk down the streets of Boston naked and no one would stop him/her.
What do you think about.........
I noticed something today that really made me wonder.
Everyday on my way to work I pass by at least a half dozen panhandlers. Most of the city dwellers pass by without acknowledging the beggars requests, but there is one noticeable exception. If the beggar asks for a cigarette, the person they ask always stops and gives them a cancer stick and a light.
Obviously the panhandlers only ask smokers, but it's fascinating to me that they are never turned down. I've seen men in pricey business suits, who hadn't even glanced at the beggar previously, stop in their tracks to fish a cigarette out of their jacket. Women who were leery of the approaching man, although still apprehensive, retrieve for him a cigarette and a lighter from their purses.
I started wondering why this only applies to cigarettes. Like I said people who don't normally comply with the beggar's other requests stop mid-stride to provide the beggar with a cigarette. Imagine if you were walking down the street and you had a Burger King value meal in hand and a panhandler asked you for a few fries, would you stop to comply? If you had a pack of sodas and a beggar asked you for one, would you stop? If you are walking along with a backpack and a panhandler asked for a pen or a piece of paper, what would you do?
I'd imagine most of us would continue to walk on, even smokers, so why do you suppose the request for cigarettes are different?
Just another of my commuter induced ponderings.
Ciao
Everyday on my way to work I pass by at least a half dozen panhandlers. Most of the city dwellers pass by without acknowledging the beggars requests, but there is one noticeable exception. If the beggar asks for a cigarette, the person they ask always stops and gives them a cancer stick and a light.
Obviously the panhandlers only ask smokers, but it's fascinating to me that they are never turned down. I've seen men in pricey business suits, who hadn't even glanced at the beggar previously, stop in their tracks to fish a cigarette out of their jacket. Women who were leery of the approaching man, although still apprehensive, retrieve for him a cigarette and a lighter from their purses.
I started wondering why this only applies to cigarettes. Like I said people who don't normally comply with the beggar's other requests stop mid-stride to provide the beggar with a cigarette. Imagine if you were walking down the street and you had a Burger King value meal in hand and a panhandler asked you for a few fries, would you stop to comply? If you had a pack of sodas and a beggar asked you for one, would you stop? If you are walking along with a backpack and a panhandler asked for a pen or a piece of paper, what would you do?
I'd imagine most of us would continue to walk on, even smokers, so why do you suppose the request for cigarettes are different?
Just another of my commuter induced ponderings.
Ciao
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
I Think I'll Walk
I just got this from a friend, and it's really hilarious.
Google maps will give you detailed instructions on how to drive from Boston, MA to Paris France. Check it out.
Follow these steps [in order of course]
1. go to www.google.com
2. click on maps
3. click on get directions
4. go from "Boston, MA" to "paris, france"
5. scroll down in the directions to number 9
and if you'd rather click on a link, here you go:
Google maps will give you detailed instructions on how to drive from Boston, MA to Paris France. Check it out.
Follow these steps [in order of course]
1. go to www.google.com
2. click on maps
3. click on get directions
4. go from "Boston, MA" to "paris, france"
5. scroll down in the directions to number 9
and if you'd rather click on a link, here you go:
Monday, April 9, 2007
CAUTION: Brain-less Babble Ahead
I’ve decided that my cranial cavity is inhabited by a tumor which is the approximate size and weight of a brain. In other words, I think I have rocks for brains.
Suffice it to say I hate Monday mornings, and since I’m turning this into a bit of a rant I’m going to tell you about all the things I hate. Like turtlenecks, I hate the suffocating fuzzy tightness around my neck, and I especially hate the fact that the day after Easter it’s so cold outside that I have to wear a turtleneck.
I hate that it is 10 AM, and I’ve already had my daily allotment of Diet Coke. I hate big slimy, little squiggly, cold and slimy fish. I hate grapefruit and fruit salads with grapes. I get extremely annoyed when the up-escalators aren’t working at the Porter Square T stop, and…………and……….and, huh, I think that’s it. I can’t think of anything else that I hate. I don’t like country music, but I don’t hate it, so I guess it doesn’t really count. Well, that’s a much shorter list than I anticipated.
Anyway, back to business. I don’t suppose anyone has seen a yellow brick road around, or heard of a place called Oz? ‘Cause I need to see a wizard about a brain.
Friday, April 6, 2007
Sound of Silence, please!!
I am sitting in my dining room listening to my roommates in the other room sing "I am 16 going on 17.........." along with the Sound of Music. They tried to induct me into their ritualistic gleeful chants. Fortunately I naturally detest the movie, and could therefore resist their attempts at assimilation. However, I must endure listening to the rest of movie since I can't abide spending the evening in my icebox bedroom while writing my blog.....ur....... I mean doing my homework.
Anywho, I thought you might all be interested in a little website that I found recently. Have you ever known someone who could use a little encouragement, a pep talk, or perhaps a congratulations, but you just didn't know how to do it right? Well, why not have Elmo do it. Yes indeed. For $2.50 Elmo, the fuzzy red monster from Sesame Street, will call your friend or family member to sing a happy birthday song, provide a wake up call, or congratulate them on using the potty. Check it out for yourself at: https://secure.uvoxnetworks.com/elmo/affhome.html?affno=73
Well that's all for now. Back to my homework, and if anyone has some noise-canceling earmuff, please share. ;o)
Anywho, I thought you might all be interested in a little website that I found recently. Have you ever known someone who could use a little encouragement, a pep talk, or perhaps a congratulations, but you just didn't know how to do it right? Well, why not have Elmo do it. Yes indeed. For $2.50 Elmo, the fuzzy red monster from Sesame Street, will call your friend or family member to sing a happy birthday song, provide a wake up call, or congratulate them on using the potty. Check it out for yourself at: https://secure.uvoxnetworks.com/elmo/affhome.html?affno=73
Well that's all for now. Back to my homework, and if anyone has some noise-canceling earmuff, please share. ;o)
Monday, April 2, 2007
My apologies
Oops, I have been reminded that I am one of those creatively cruel friends.
I would like to take this moment to apologize to Tom for setting up a Christmas tree lot in his front yard and the jack-o-lantern patch on his porch.
And if anyone happens to have pictures of these two events, I would love to get a copy to include with this apology. ;o)
I would like to take this moment to apologize to Tom for setting up a Christmas tree lot in his front yard and the jack-o-lantern patch on his porch.
And if anyone happens to have pictures of these two events, I would love to get a copy to include with this apology. ;o)
Sunday, April 1, 2007
April Fools!!
I was on my way to church this morning when I saw an exquisite April Fool's Day prank. Parked two blocks from my house was this most unfortunate vehicle. (If you click on the image you can better admire my lovely layout work.) Let's all count our blessings that we don't all have such creatively cruel friends.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Museum Ambush Ahead
As I was driving along the backroads from Consider with me a moment. Decoys are used to lure some person or creature into an ambush. So what sort of a creature might be drawn to a museum and why the ambush? I can't say for sure, but it must be a devilish plot.
I know some of you must be thinking, "Aleigh, this is simply advertising a museum of decoys." And I might have agreed with you until I saw the name of the street. Giles? Like guile, as in beguile.
Although tempted to investigate this potentially dire situation further and perhaps reveal a plot by a dangerous rouge organization, I needed to get to a wedding dinner. So I simply snapped this picture and continued with my travels. But if you find yourself traveling between
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Baby Got Back
Oooooooooooooouuuuuuuuccccccccccchhhhhhhhhh! I have back pain, severe back pain. I reached into the fridge for yogurt, and SNAP I acquired the mobility of a hobbled horse. I've been informed that a muscle in my butt is having the equivalent of a panic attack. This wouldn't be so horrible if it wasn't for the fact that the lower back is involved in almost every major function of the human body. I can't even laugh without my back seizing. Today, I choked on a sneeze because I was writhing in pain.
When it comes to treatments, I've also discovered that everyone has their favorites. Ice it, heat it, roll it with a tennis ball. Go to the doctor, get a massage, visit the chiropractor. Rest, walk, stretch. Sleep on your back, sleep on your side, take some meds. Do the hokey pokey, turn yourself around, that's what it's all about.
So far I think my dad is right, it's just going to take time, but since I don't like crying opening at work because of the pain, I'm willing to try as many of the above options as possible. Here's what I've found so far. I'm not in favor of icing because Boston is cold enough without my sticking a block of pure coldness on my butt. Heat is okay, but you start to feel like a pot roast after a couple hours.
No one recommended it, but I've found a nice inbetween are IcyHot packs which have the added benefit of numbness. Meds are a must, but you've got to find the right ones for your body chemistry. 800 mg of Advil every 4 hours is working marvy so I'm going to put off going to the doctor unless I'm still miserable on Thursday. I went to a massage therapist and after dropping $60 I don't think I have the mulla for trying out a chiropractor. When it comes to sleeping I don't really care what position is best, I just can't wait until I can go back to sleeping on my tummy.
In the any case, I will continue hobbling, wobbling, and shuffling my way through the day while I try new treatments until that malicious butt muscle takes a chill pill.
When it comes to treatments, I've also discovered that everyone has their favorites. Ice it, heat it, roll it with a tennis ball. Go to the doctor, get a massage, visit the chiropractor. Rest, walk, stretch. Sleep on your back, sleep on your side, take some meds. Do the hokey pokey, turn yourself around, that's what it's all about.
So far I think my dad is right, it's just going to take time, but since I don't like crying opening at work because of the pain, I'm willing to try as many of the above options as possible. Here's what I've found so far. I'm not in favor of icing because Boston is cold enough without my sticking a block of pure coldness on my butt. Heat is okay, but you start to feel like a pot roast after a couple hours.
No one recommended it, but I've found a nice inbetween are IcyHot packs which have the added benefit of numbness. Meds are a must, but you've got to find the right ones for your body chemistry. 800 mg of Advil every 4 hours is working marvy so I'm going to put off going to the doctor unless I'm still miserable on Thursday. I went to a massage therapist and after dropping $60 I don't think I have the mulla for trying out a chiropractor. When it comes to sleeping I don't really care what position is best, I just can't wait until I can go back to sleeping on my tummy.
In the any case, I will continue hobbling, wobbling, and shuffling my way through the day while I try new treatments until that malicious butt muscle takes a chill pill.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Hello at first sight
We may be the best of friends, or I may not know you all. Either way I welcome you to my blog with a hello and a smile. This blog of mine will most likely document many of my flub-ups, a generous dash of quirky meanderings, and the occasional profundity. Up until now I've only shared such things with friends and family via their email inboxes. However, at the urging of a friend, I've decided to open up such things to the internet community at large.
Welcome all
Welcome all
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