tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371392610258785442024-02-06T20:52:53.512-08:00Ela WomanBeing saved from the world, one mistake at a time.ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.comBlogger160125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-16126619393550441032011-03-16T09:12:00.000-07:002011-03-16T09:59:20.701-07:00Celebrity.Ok, guys. This is what I look like, clearly:<br /><div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieu7Yi1TGTxjE7GWo5ImDgla7P2yqWB0cehwWtHhywJ__Pdez22ccCXka8JtZ_KtyhGogPUAxG9T0_18duKf2ppP-ROnZrRSrYkpjljj0eFUUome8U34BrVXgG7MN71sIiitMC8G0JbfMu/s1600/mail.jpg"></a><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieu7Yi1TGTxjE7GWo5ImDgla7P2yqWB0cehwWtHhywJ__Pdez22ccCXka8JtZ_KtyhGogPUAxG9T0_18duKf2ppP-ROnZrRSrYkpjljj0eFUUome8U34BrVXgG7MN71sIiitMC8G0JbfMu/s1600/mail.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 124px; height: 166px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieu7Yi1TGTxjE7GWo5ImDgla7P2yqWB0cehwWtHhywJ__Pdez22ccCXka8JtZ_KtyhGogPUAxG9T0_18duKf2ppP-ROnZrRSrYkpjljj0eFUUome8U34BrVXgG7MN71sIiitMC8G0JbfMu/s320/mail.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584716156279687298" /></a></div></div></div><div><br /></div><div>These are the people I've been compared to:</div><div><br /></div><div>I used to get Julia a lot. Seems pretty loose to me. I mean, we both have brown hair (at times) and brown eyes. Don't get this as much now.</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh11i1WbgqfqJkKf3gJjauhyaZteXt3v_BZuDBXqmW7UqkOqI-F9uNWQ2UknLxMOZYI4xLZeDj4x1EgJPv7GTfq5-ALwQ5wMVvFY7NfwoUbJmDT0h3wfMlahyoztlgFKDE1bBmVo1UHUlKh/s320/julia-roberts.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584716162393000690" /></div><div><br /></div><div>I also don't get this one. But in fairness, the guy who SWORE I looked like Sandra was a little crazy.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3622srXEo4RMXQMUtc3ziS_LTKIrWNc1_iaUQu9Q60gFyIGdBLBPKwldBn6X09ZectMo7ROXOB3rDc_IJJ5vz4DLjfScqs81wVxP6se8dp9un5lav8apr1qayaEu53DvSjC2ewaKMHJ5p/s1600/sandra-bullock.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3622srXEo4RMXQMUtc3ziS_LTKIrWNc1_iaUQu9Q60gFyIGdBLBPKwldBn6X09ZectMo7ROXOB3rDc_IJJ5vz4DLjfScqs81wVxP6se8dp9un5lav8apr1qayaEu53DvSjC2ewaKMHJ5p/s320/sandra-bullock.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584716167748479762" style="cursor: pointer; width: 183px; height: 276px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>My sister thinks I look "EXACTLY" like Rosamund. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO4uy3jX1TuJfk6z4dfe0uTubd3mgViTBkTUuSTfIXodmEVHbDAhzzuKSJRigLwRip-UMxVQrQlGVhmUvkORTvDA1AipNkKU-ug1MouLCOdhfSAagrRS74M-Pdw9IYlBw2S8pUZzrKvVg4/s1600/rosamund-pike.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO4uy3jX1TuJfk6z4dfe0uTubd3mgViTBkTUuSTfIXodmEVHbDAhzzuKSJRigLwRip-UMxVQrQlGVhmUvkORTvDA1AipNkKU-ug1MouLCOdhfSAagrRS74M-Pdw9IYlBw2S8pUZzrKvVg4/s320/rosamund-pike.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584716173534010834" style="cursor: pointer; width: 197px; height: 256px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>My friend Audra thinks I look just like Rachel McAdams.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDgpDXCa-POke0vbDYj6CoWHDJlFpMqIwMPxlRN4h82RJ7LmWFHM7XzVfBC9joigIX1GHF5NPHQFv5-Os9dIsVSRcXqfQY57RcHegQ_wXaeDn-ZuRD5OefkRmmyi-nDgRG5IJ_mD2qMhoD/s1600/rachel-mcadams.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDgpDXCa-POke0vbDYj6CoWHDJlFpMqIwMPxlRN4h82RJ7LmWFHM7XzVfBC9joigIX1GHF5NPHQFv5-Os9dIsVSRcXqfQY57RcHegQ_wXaeDn-ZuRD5OefkRmmyi-nDgRG5IJ_mD2qMhoD/s320/rachel-mcadams.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584716177817050706" style="cursor: pointer; width: 181px; height: 279px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Ok. THIS one earned 9,000 points for the guy who told me this. Audrey always wins. And the best part is, he has NO interest in impressing me.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWfECh0brSH3y783iqoinVVrWggmuRv2fb7hBCyb_p6hDFH2e-ZfmJjAp8VJuY0enGRoqV-YQmvXoLQlb048_MmLeO8yvFWoz4PWPUch2i3OoXuYYeVUcDFWWshgmSTQGrIKeTsQ2zNmGR/s1600/Audrey-Hepburn.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWfECh0brSH3y783iqoinVVrWggmuRv2fb7hBCyb_p6hDFH2e-ZfmJjAp8VJuY0enGRoqV-YQmvXoLQlb048_MmLeO8yvFWoz4PWPUch2i3OoXuYYeVUcDFWWshgmSTQGrIKeTsQ2zNmGR/s320/Audrey-Hepburn.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584716426279751442" style="cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>This is the most recent comparison, Emily Blunt. I'm down with that, also.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9YxuTZuqA4plmq14Nj0VTFPLyaTLYE1LL15S3CYwUhqS1HRrxPD1ip0CEfgMiJ7a_G2Tf_CjXtCi5PPeEHfnp2_D3pphrgOj313S8doCuhCH9pCpILGYEGUdMi5JGwdnVfrWJWTd05Mfd/s1600/emily-blunt-image.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9YxuTZuqA4plmq14Nj0VTFPLyaTLYE1LL15S3CYwUhqS1HRrxPD1ip0CEfgMiJ7a_G2Tf_CjXtCi5PPeEHfnp2_D3pphrgOj313S8doCuhCH9pCpILGYEGUdMi5JGwdnVfrWJWTd05Mfd/s320/emily-blunt-image.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584716428231217602" style="cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 320px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>But, in reality, I think I look the most like Carey Mulligan.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwOvoxSeNepc2N0pYyvqoS5eLvUMIZfaki0JTaRrcksxjsq6-90GMU0SlkVVYf_4Gd_0GDuJL_cnY6qLv7Wbj0Xa28bNVAXx-wZocpJOBU8GRfcLdF-JGFqdhd4_P7zNWxlByRgGXlF-kR/s1600/carey-mulligan.jpeg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwOvoxSeNepc2N0pYyvqoS5eLvUMIZfaki0JTaRrcksxjsq6-90GMU0SlkVVYf_4Gd_0GDuJL_cnY6qLv7Wbj0Xa28bNVAXx-wZocpJOBU8GRfcLdF-JGFqdhd4_P7zNWxlByRgGXlF-kR/s320/carey-mulligan.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584716434156311314" style="cursor: pointer; width: 315px; height: 160px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>What do you think?</div>ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-79473889454752052472011-03-01T20:56:00.000-08:002011-03-01T21:01:20.072-08:00Dressed in coffee bagsWhen I was in college, I had this job where I made coffee. Every day. For hours. I would grind it. Brew it. Serve it. Refill it. Rinse and repeat. All of our coffee beans came in these cool burlap bags. I always admired them and then we'd just throw them away.<div><br /></div><div>On my last day in the office, I had a brilliant idea to make a skirt out of them and stole a bag with a tree frog on it. (You know I love me a tree frog.) BUT.</div><div><br /></div><div>THEN.</div><div><br /></div><div>I never did anything with it.</div><div><br /></div><div>The idea, and the burlap bag, just sat there. Through jobs. Through moves. Through trends.</div><div><br /></div><div>And then, for some reason, this:</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrBCfB3IN3drivQVYftwNNtCdU3XGQ3aq-25txC7nmHRg_6FNwKYj3DrxquLjKCNI9czHN8Ica_QqX5MBgcN-4IWJFUOujb8WaYrTOrm5yhh0ILMfrfqHVRqevjm6hTG0gJDYkQr5n07ww/s320/burlapskirt.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579342963844256866" /></div><div><br /></div><div>I finally made it.</div>ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-10754932208586593012011-01-28T10:14:00.001-08:002011-01-31T10:37:25.119-08:00Conversations at a Coffee HouseOctogenarian: "You guys writing a screenplay?"<br /><br />Boss/Business Partner: "Excuse me?"<br /><br />O: "Are you screen writers? You know, here for the festival?"<br /><br />B: "Oh. Uh. No. We're just here doing some work. Planning. Talking about..."<br /><br />O, mumbles: "If she were my wife, I'd listen to everything she had to say, too!" (grabs my arm briefly)<br /><br />Boss, uncertain -- exactly -- what he said, makes some kind of joke.<br /><br />The old man, feeling that the environment is safe (his test was successful) and he's not going to be taken out by a younger man, grabs my arm a little bit longer, a little more aggressively and pulls. Makes some other joke about having me around or my looks.<br /><br />B: "You in the film industry?"<br /><br />O: "Oh no. I'm worth about 2 billion dollars." (Glances at me.)<br /><br />B: "Oh. Really?"<br /><br />O: "I'm in the coal mining business."<br /><br />B: "Good business to be in?"<br /><br />You'll notice, that so far, he's been flirting with me THROUGH ANOTHER MAN!<br /><br />O: "Well, I made my first half million that way. Then I struck gold. Made my first billion. Then found more gold. Made my second billion." Looks to me, pointedly, "So I have money."<br /><br />Me: "Haha. Let's talk!" (Not sarcastic enough, I think.)<br /><br />B: "I'd love to talk to you! What are we doing here?"<br /><br />The Octogenarian, somewhat less than amused half-heartedly laughs, mumbles something, and wanders away (to come up with another plan of attack).<br /><br />O, coming back: "Ok. One more thing, if you only had one vacation left in your life, where would you go?"<br /><br />Clearly, I can't answer "St. John" or "Hawaii" or "Europe." Even "Australia" seemed too risky. So I go for one of my immediate top 3, ambitious enough for LAST TRIP OF MY LIFE: "Antarctica." Nothing says romantic interlude like that, right?<br /><br />O: "What?"<br /><br />E: "Antarctica."<br /><br />O: "Antarctica??" Looks at boss questioningly and says, "And you?"<br /><br />B: "Africa."<br /><br />Of course, the Octogenarian brushes that off, looks at me and says, "How about Elko?"<br /><br />E: "Elko... Nevada??"<br /><br />O: "Yes. Nevada." Looks at boss: "There are gold mines," looks at me and points, "and whorehouses."<br /><br />Yes. The whorehouse it going to seal the deal. You're pulling out the money shot, because when ACTUAL money doesn't work, prostitution always does. I'll pack up my stuff right now. See you later, boss!<br /><br />B: "Gold mines and gold diggers! I'm with you. If she doesn't take you up on it, I'm climbing in your car right now."<br /><br />O: "Well, I have three sons and they're watching EVERY DIME!"<br /><br />The conversation petered out from there. When my boss got up to get some food and I was alone for a minute, the man came back for one last shot, "Does he beat you with that baseball bat?"<br /><br />E: "I beat him."<br /><br />And therein lies the end of his dreams. Poor man. Poor me -- literally. I'm second-guessing my role in life. Thinking about getting "Gold Digging for Dummies" and trying again.ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-78453161794565127292011-01-26T08:53:00.000-08:002011-01-26T08:55:57.152-08:00This is why I do what I do.<iframe title="YouTube video player" class="youtube-player" type="text/html" width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/jULUGHJCCj4" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen></iframe><div><br /></div><div>This is what marketing, branding and strategy are all about. I get emotional every time I watch this ad, for so many reasons. This is what the job is about. This is perfection.</div>ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-4007191659535388592010-09-07T10:46:00.000-07:002010-09-07T10:57:44.401-07:00And on Labor Day, she rested from her labors.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHuS08VJkdhoaC13o5FAoVb4g91kgzeb7W-QmOKpAJ39mGRTuboBjuNCO9XoX2BlukD0rbETPNMOcOPo6vngXR1UlaDSEJjbZv1z-C03y0oJL9mzlHbDzJ7aIBt2MIyr-COFZrbQJW_u3o/s1600/IMG_0357.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHuS08VJkdhoaC13o5FAoVb4g91kgzeb7W-QmOKpAJ39mGRTuboBjuNCO9XoX2BlukD0rbETPNMOcOPo6vngXR1UlaDSEJjbZv1z-C03y0oJL9mzlHbDzJ7aIBt2MIyr-COFZrbQJW_u3o/s320/IMG_0357.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514230512073310162" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNoon_bZmR5ysllMNDexlJ39qfCzpNO961SOL4R4Y5xpEAJUaPaejnxtr5HM7up8r4s0vJR82QJwWziqP0PtepjnN9PFnWfzZD3WOQDZ8BGE-lf_cmAhSWbwOi_usyn0LW6MVoahaPkW1r/s1600/IMG_0363.JPG"></a><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNoon_bZmR5ysllMNDexlJ39qfCzpNO961SOL4R4Y5xpEAJUaPaejnxtr5HM7up8r4s0vJR82QJwWziqP0PtepjnN9PFnWfzZD3WOQDZ8BGE-lf_cmAhSWbwOi_usyn0LW6MVoahaPkW1r/s1600/IMG_0363.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNoon_bZmR5ysllMNDexlJ39qfCzpNO961SOL4R4Y5xpEAJUaPaejnxtr5HM7up8r4s0vJR82QJwWziqP0PtepjnN9PFnWfzZD3WOQDZ8BGE-lf_cmAhSWbwOi_usyn0LW6MVoahaPkW1r/s320/IMG_0363.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514230502778244898" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhScrMRDHFZQC6hvu770w9idPYSHZcHErsSSIURcFSjg9F7_tze3nv9MOuj7tbYPp13JNvjjZQ3k5HMKZWUWG8OeRahtHYxHIWlmkotMtI0oOHR53BUyku0ZTdW1mAiqg2YHEF4aWzlbu3n/s1600/IMG_0362.JPG"></a><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhScrMRDHFZQC6hvu770w9idPYSHZcHErsSSIURcFSjg9F7_tze3nv9MOuj7tbYPp13JNvjjZQ3k5HMKZWUWG8OeRahtHYxHIWlmkotMtI0oOHR53BUyku0ZTdW1mAiqg2YHEF4aWzlbu3n/s1600/IMG_0362.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhScrMRDHFZQC6hvu770w9idPYSHZcHErsSSIURcFSjg9F7_tze3nv9MOuj7tbYPp13JNvjjZQ3k5HMKZWUWG8OeRahtHYxHIWlmkotMtI0oOHR53BUyku0ZTdW1mAiqg2YHEF4aWzlbu3n/s320/IMG_0362.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514230493858893458" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQcRtnyXq6ZX5kxH2YdmwJrfC_kzzwaAP3m61Qj3rP32Y0VqDwKPJ2IMS85wkj-XwKIcj5Rm-ENb-WSRSx4r4yZCIt4E984JZKkDXA6V-E8xJ3TX_4mmqmOpK7e_4xaqQQDF7Lp8GwxFrg/s1600/IMG_0364.JPG"></a><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQcRtnyXq6ZX5kxH2YdmwJrfC_kzzwaAP3m61Qj3rP32Y0VqDwKPJ2IMS85wkj-XwKIcj5Rm-ENb-WSRSx4r4yZCIt4E984JZKkDXA6V-E8xJ3TX_4mmqmOpK7e_4xaqQQDF7Lp8GwxFrg/s1600/IMG_0364.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQcRtnyXq6ZX5kxH2YdmwJrfC_kzzwaAP3m61Qj3rP32Y0VqDwKPJ2IMS85wkj-XwKIcj5Rm-ENb-WSRSx4r4yZCIt4E984JZKkDXA6V-E8xJ3TX_4mmqmOpK7e_4xaqQQDF7Lp8GwxFrg/s320/IMG_0364.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514230487658825714" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLJ4JZXyMb3jqsofORGh7XzlMI8NuOEwJhyphenhyphenksIqY0qeYR8MUY9zvs7Jo6dvLpC4dTzZqcTx02hMdPUN_CBfcji7cTc_1hjyUCbHaCE60Mmtrzu1PS8wD9h_qUTxGPmdMYqjMb4-VcR6akk/s1600/IMG_0350.JPG"></a><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLJ4JZXyMb3jqsofORGh7XzlMI8NuOEwJhyphenhyphenksIqY0qeYR8MUY9zvs7Jo6dvLpC4dTzZqcTx02hMdPUN_CBfcji7cTc_1hjyUCbHaCE60Mmtrzu1PS8wD9h_qUTxGPmdMYqjMb4-VcR6akk/s1600/IMG_0350.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLJ4JZXyMb3jqsofORGh7XzlMI8NuOEwJhyphenhyphenksIqY0qeYR8MUY9zvs7Jo6dvLpC4dTzZqcTx02hMdPUN_CBfcji7cTc_1hjyUCbHaCE60Mmtrzu1PS8wD9h_qUTxGPmdMYqjMb4-VcR6akk/s320/IMG_0350.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514230479763356082" /></a><br /><br /><div>And she called it good.</div></div></div></div></div>ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-77133073190961876752010-09-02T08:06:00.000-07:002010-09-02T08:07:36.933-07:00Sigh No More<div>This song is making me so happy. </div><div>By Mumford and Sons.</div><div><br /></div><iframe name="fairplayer" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" width="34" height="18" src="http://beepser.official.fm/track/65660?fairplayer=mini&skin=76"></iframe>ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-10708774889709344672010-08-30T16:27:00.000-07:002010-08-30T16:42:20.712-07:00Imagine snuggling up in this.<div>I have a friend whose Mom makes quilts. Big, luscious, fluffy, handmade, beautiful quilts. And I love quilts. So. Much. I don't love quilting, but I should start loving it, because I want closets full of quilts.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, given my love, it's no surprise that I've been begging for a quilt for years. Since before I graduated high school, I'm sure. I always got the answer, "My mom says she'll make you one when you get married." And yet? I persisted. What about for my 20th birthday? What about for college graduation? What about for my 25th birthday? What about for <i>your </i>wedding anniversary? What about a quilt celebrating my first house? None of these were successful.</div><div><br /></div><div>And then, one day, not too long ago, my friend called out of the blue and said, "Ok. My mom said she'll make you a quilt now." And I died. Right then and there. I sent a few color palettes as inspiration and today, I learned that they're shopping for the fabric. AS I TYPE THIS! It won't be too long before I'm snuggled up in a quilt inspired by this:</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.inspiredbride.net/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/046.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 545px;" src="http://www.inspiredbride.net/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/046.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.inspiredbride.net/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/046.jpg"></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(via </span><a href="http://www.inspiredbride.net/category/color-palettes/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Inspired Bride</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">, but useful for quilts, too?? In fact, I love her color palettes for pretty much any reason. They're so... well... inspiring.)</span></div></div>ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-257985053339947472010-08-26T08:18:00.000-07:002010-08-31T15:07:44.719-07:00Unless you walk...<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;font-size:medium;"><a rel="nofollow" name="LETTER.BLOCK2"></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">out into the unknown, the odds of making a profound difference in your life are pretty low.<br /></span></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">-Tom Peters</span></span></div></span></span><div style="text-align: right;"></div></span></span><div style="text-align: right;"><a rel="nofollow" name="LETTER.BLOCK2"><span><span></span></span></a></div></span>ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-89643116055440519282010-08-23T23:31:00.000-07:002010-08-23T23:52:06.284-07:00Putting myself in foster care.<div>For the last few weeks, I've been putting myself up for adoption, or at least out for foster care, during<a href="http://lds.org/hf/fhe/welcome/0,16785,4210-1,00.html"> FHE</a>. I've never really done FHE before, and I have to say, it's pretty great.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Week 1:</b> Watched <a href="https://www.ldscatalog.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/ProductDisplay?catalogId=10151&langId=-1&storeId=10151&krypto=1uSEhjcmQDtKS8qJZkJ87zVj38L2uTX3FYyUvd%2F9DfaD%2FJMgq2J7Osd%2BnROMaCnvxqcxNFCQxf3w%0AOOJB%2Fnpa407ghDj1Kc9TX1ax1FQSxk0%3D&ddkey=http:ClickInfo">a movie</a> about <a href="http://newsroom.lds.org/ldsnewsroom/eng/background-information/leader-biographies/president-thomas-s-monson">President Monson</a> with an older couple in the ward. We were singing a closing song when -- right in between verses -- the husband says, "You can come back anytime. You don't look half as <a href="http://www.anosyat.com/wp-content/uploads/old_woman.jpg">old</a> as they said you'd look!"</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Week 2:</b> Roasted hot dogs and pineapple over the fire, went on <a href="http://image3.examiner.com/images/blog/EXID2028/images/mountaire1.jpg">a hike up the canyon</a>, played "Mafia," sang every song that came to mind (including some dramatic acting and interpretations), and made S'Mores with Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. TASTY!</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Week 3:</b> Talent show. Seen here (and heard here, too, if you listen carefully):</div><div><br /></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzCGAcpFYAKrhI_jp3kx-AWg9mZeyW06LgHFcmC3u4lnGTkF-_bkgqc_dgJQHjN10GNHvpm5Zj0ztLz42Rs-Q' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-28584223767518211212010-07-22T13:31:00.000-07:002010-07-22T13:32:39.711-07:00All the sorrow and trouble...of this world is caused by unhappy people. The search for contentment is, therefore, not merely a self-benefiting act, but also a generous gift to the world.<div style="text-align: right;">~Elizabeth Gilbert</div><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Maybe I'm just buying some self-justification with this quote, but I think it's a nice idea. And kind of true??</div>ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-62273450498500486222010-07-21T16:11:00.000-07:002010-07-21T16:12:54.098-07:00Above all...watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you, because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it."<div style="text-align: right;">~Roald Dahl</div>ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-60894969353766752872010-07-06T14:36:00.000-07:002010-07-06T15:41:38.698-07:00I'm loving this song for real.This is a song that is not embarrassing for me to have in my library.<div>Listen to it.</div><div>Immediately.</div><div>On repeat.<br /><br /><iframe name="fairplayer" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" width="160" height="240" src="http://fairtilizer.com/track/92026?fairplayer=standard"></iframe></div><div><br /></div><div>Also this song makes me happy.</div><br /><iframe name="fairplayer" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" width="160" height="240" src="http://fairtilizer.com/track/11150?fairplayer=standard"></iframe><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(I guess the media player doesn't show up in Google Reader, so hop on over to the blog. You'll be happy you did.)</span></div>ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-43052847361178762062010-07-02T07:20:00.000-07:002010-07-02T07:31:25.084-07:00Euthanasia is my drug.At least, it will need to be if I hear this song again.<div><br /><object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QR_qa3Ohwls&hl=en_US&fs=1?rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QR_qa3Ohwls&hl=en_US&fs=1?rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I detest it. There is absolutely nothing about it I like. I didn't even want to put the video on my blog, especially because STOP RUINING AFRICA WITH YOUR STUPID MUSIC.</div><div><br /></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Note: I have no idea what's in any of these videos, so don't hold me accountable. I know the Lady Gaga video is weird, because, well, it's Gaga -- so I did find another version for that.</span></i></div><div><br /></div><div>Which I find confusing. Since I LOVE this song:</div><div><br /><object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/y_SI2EDM6Lo&hl=en_US&fs=1?rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/y_SI2EDM6Lo&hl=en_US&fs=1?rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>And this song:</div><div><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/crYDOdZ2LC4&hl=en_US&fs=1?rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/crYDOdZ2LC4&hl=en_US&fs=1?rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I even pretty much like this song:</div><div><br /><object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/X1Fqn9du7xo&hl=en_US&fs=1?rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/X1Fqn9du7xo&hl=en_US&fs=1?rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>And, heck, I even sort of love this one:</div><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/o-CwPYr7GxU&hl=en_US&fs=1?rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/o-CwPYr7GxU&hl=en_US&fs=1?rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><div><br /></div><div>Guilty pleasures? Maybe. But let's go on a road trip and blast them out the window, k?</div>ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-89985408845306157182010-06-03T09:49:00.000-07:002010-06-03T09:55:52.822-07:00Some days...when you walk out of your house, you convince yourself that you look better than you do, because you can't do anything to look better.<div><br /></div><div>Such is the case today.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Self, I know your skin is pale and your eyes are puffy and glazed -- yet simultaneously sunken hollows. I know your lips have a lost all color and you have somewhat of a gray pallor. BUT no one will be able to tell you're sick. Maybe they'll just notice your leopard print shoes, or your colorful earrings. Plus, makeup can totally help."</div><div><br /></div><div>And then you walk into a room to join a conference call and the only other person in the room announces to the call, "Elizabeth looks like she's going to die."</div>ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-9108875844901185742010-05-25T13:07:00.001-07:002010-05-25T13:14:30.191-07:00I ALMOST DIED!I almost died at work today. A 2 foot x 4 foot slab of 1/2 inch thick plywood smashed to the ground. RIGHT. NEXT. TO. ME.<div><br /></div><div>At first, I was like Chicken Little and ran around yelling, "The sky is falling! The sky is falling!" And then I looked up to see the hole in the sky.</div><div><br /></div><div>That's when I realized it was a slab of plywood. A slab of plywood that was right above my head.</div><div><br /></div><div>Fortunately, for some unknown reason, it fell to the left as it was falling. Because, no joke, I was standing right under it. Basically, I'm lucky to be alive. Whether or not <i>you're</i> lucky that I'm alive is a whole 'nother matter.</div>ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-38141097400391470222010-05-19T12:13:00.000-07:002010-05-19T12:23:00.591-07:00In memoriam.I used to have <a href="http://elawoman.blogspot.com/2009/06/you-can-grow-flowers-from-where-dirt.html">this planter in my front yard</a>. But it was taken away. By a nameless Homeowners' Association. Seriously. I don't even know who to call about it. I didn't like it, but you can't just take my property! If they'd asked me, I would have happily said, "Sure. Take it away." Or planted some flowers. (I thought the jumped the gun a little, barely even gave me time to plant after the snow stopped falling. Don't most people plant Mother's Day weekend? Seriously.)<div><br /></div><div>BUT.</div><div><br /></div><div>They didn't take it before someone added this <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; ">(please ignore the dead plants -- I mentioned it was still early in the year, right? -- and poor iPhone photo focus)</span>:</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0f7_WB1hOhaTLp1tYqtsqpEjTMnTHcPnK8g0m5cYuQsIy9O_9uNj0lFFR3asVdEXqEg-ZKpvnIqiTNP1l1bLmSiN3AGvdDQVTDh_H9R9ULAUsEp6pq1TS5fANvFu6PaR8Z1gdVoY65CLc/s320/photo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473062437357595266" /></div><div><br /></div><div>to the collection of lawn ornaments they added last year. Exhibits A and B.</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 221px; height: 166px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZcqfKQAJ3SJjWtSeKovTtBc5RePi6_XQzGxAisjNnWSa2LawA3qlNEdfBcX-GPLI0Z3y8_Rqa8GtgRps8U8VVSwDsXuam76K1kO31G718kouJFrIAAanxzYGp7rLFq0wOyrMwo7RgDPe4/s320/photo%5B2%5D.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473062447783093026" /></div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKhbJKLSnU4c7I1mg4Bd-NbKJlqPw_P1fTSQbioeD_ksx4IA3XOt62AU056LsFVl0UAxC2cvaflloNzyLngoP0Ebe89vZxALmAaj9ZJGflILgNX0vXMAFsaoLxEdN-FEZ1uJan3afOK6LC/s320/photo%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473062455498697570" /></div>ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-31822788290351742122010-05-16T13:00:00.000-07:002010-05-16T13:05:46.930-07:00Style for substance.<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"></span><span><span>Watch this video. It's of a woman who wore the same dress every day for a year (but still manages to make it look totally different through accessories and pairing and such) to raise money for kids to go to school. Coolio.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Calibri, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(100, 95, 94); white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:verdana, sans-serif;font-size:10px;"><object width="400" height="225"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=11113046&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=0&show_portrait=0&color=00ADEF&fullscreen=1"><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=11113046&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=0&show_portrait=0&color=00ADEF&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="225"></embed></object></span></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-14889813646835705932010-05-15T23:20:00.000-07:002010-05-16T12:56:04.172-07:00As seen on a bathroom stall just outside Nephi, UT.<span><span>Sleep safe!</span></span><div><span><span>Sleep with a</span></span></div><div><span><span><del>SOLDIER</del></span></span></div><div><span><span><del><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">MARINE!</span></span></del></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Mathematician</span></i></span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"></span></div></div>ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-83979711436906967582010-05-12T16:03:00.000-07:002010-05-12T16:18:39.810-07:00I got new glasses.I must confess: the change felt more dramatic than it is. Especially when I looked at these pictures side-by-side. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>(I can't really say that I knew exactly what I looked like in my new glasses, since I was blind and relied completely on </i></span></span><a href="http://twolooseteeth.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>two adorable</i></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i> </i></span></span><a href="http://andersonink.blogspot.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>friends</i></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i> to tell me which of the 200 options looked best.)</i></span></span><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i></i></span></span> No wonder no one at the office noticed my lunchtime eyewear change. <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Note to self: For a major statement, should have gone for the green glasses.</span></span></i><div><br /></div><div>OLD</div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg59w4hB9otOekSw22JPFA9ptak5DZgkNqrqTHhoj6CoKQ8bZlSPKOIJw8bBDDl5uEUj02pBHxvJOKe7TKU59-0ofKUUfvh-nQedUuw-ZeWNJmEDWKeKNrn9dYNO-_mNDS9JIqtPOmhrnEN/s320/Photo+4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470523903501264962" /></div><div><br /></div><div>NEW</div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBI6KVXQQirAL5StRhg8-t76sHU82AQ5vyZFCTVEGWRs9NNx4uWLteA_5u0fScLipYD88e0niT9rJMPFCGOLpadKqK5YB2WcmTtMaPxhOHGGmgp1xKHeJ6QyupZptsgTBPGWYig8VgzdxY/s320/Photo+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470523913910352210" /></div><div><br /></div><div>I'll consider it a modern update to an old classic. What do you guys think?</div></div>ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-85505914013252844292010-05-07T12:47:00.000-07:002010-05-07T12:52:34.145-07:00From Gold's GymI just got a birthday wish email from Gold's Gym -- giving me a coupon for a day of couch-potato-sitting, snack-eating, nap-taking revelry. That's different from every other day ... how? Thanks for the gift, Gold's.ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-54649062476436134082010-04-29T22:18:00.000-07:002011-01-28T11:53:21.470-08:00I'm back; but wishing I could get away.You know what would be incredible? If in 2010, I got to go to my current top 10 list of new places to go. <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Sometimes I wish I was rich.</span></i> It would be too much travel, since most these places are really far away -- and a trip to a far away place each month (or more often) would be really tiring. Even if I do have a secret desire to be a nomad.<div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I clearly stole all these pictures from the Internet, so thank you, Internet, for sharing all your pretty pictures. I know I should have credited people specifically. I'm sorry.</span></i></div><div><br /></div><div><b>In no particular order:</b><div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://planetsave.com/files/2008/02/great-barrier-reef.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 450px; height: 301px;" src="http://planetsave.com/files/2008/02/great-barrier-reef.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><div>The Great Barrier Reef, Australia</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 420px; height: 336px;" src="http://www.visitjapannow.com/wp-content/themes/thesis_16/custom/rotator/cherry-blossom-trees1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></div><div><br /></div><div>Kyoto, Japan (In March. Definitely. Cherry Blossoms all the way.)</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 550px; height: 412px;" src="http://www.travelvivi.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/12/Jerusalem-Israel.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></div><div><br /></div><div>Jerusalem, Israel</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/34/106238115_0099fcdf88.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></div><div><br /></div><div>St. Petersburg, Russia (maybe as the final destination of a cruise through <a href="http://www.coder.com/daniel/fjords.jpg">the fjords.</a>)</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 415px; height: 332px;" src="http://www.destination360.com/north-america/us/washington-dc/images/s/washington-dc-lincoln-memorial-s.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></div><div><br /></div><div>Washington, DC</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 360px;" src="http://concierge.typepad.com/photos/uncategorized/2007/04/02/antarctica_penguins.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></div><div><br /></div><div>Antarctica (I clearly chose a picture that looks like heaven for all you people who think I'm crazy.)</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 640px; height: 480px;" src="http://www.infinitepossibilityproductions.com/adventure/images/machu%20picchu.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></div><div><br /></div><div>Machu Pichu, Peru</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 578px; height: 500px;" src="http://www.dirjournal.com/info/wp-content/uploads/2009/01/taj_mahal_1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></div><div><br /></div><div>The Taj Mahal (I should have just gone in March. But this gives me an excuse to go back to India!! Woot.)</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 379px; height: 300px;" src="http://www.aegweb.org/images/Geologic%20Hazards/GrandCanyon.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></div><div><br /></div><div>The Grand Canyon</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 540px; height: 450px;" src="http://repairstemcell.files.wordpress.com/2009/02/amsterdam-big.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></div><div><br /></div><div>Amsterdam, Netherlands</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Honorable mentions (there is not enough time in my life to go all these places!!):</b></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.lacamerakiara.com/images/20080306120652_iguazu%20falls.jpg">Iguazu Falls, Brazil/Argentina</a></div><div><a href="http://images.askmen.com/top_10/travel/1247673641_fine-living-top-10-paradises-on-earth_3.jpg">Patagonia, Chile</a></div><div><a href="http://www.dirjournal.com/info/wp-content/uploads/2009/01/egyptian_pyramids_in_giza_egyp.jpg">Giza/Cairo, Egypt</a></div><div><a href="http://kollinz.ironcube.info/kollin/amazingplaces/places/Edinburgh%20Castle,%20Edinburgh,%20Scotland.jpg">Edinburgh, Scotland</a></div><div><a href="http://soulofamerica.com/soagalleries/stjohn/StJohn-Trunk-BayTB.jpg">St. John, Carribean</a></div><div><a href="http://image3.examiner.com/images/blog/wysiwyg/image/New_Orleans_(expedia_article).jpg">New Orleans, Louisiana</a></div><div><a href="http://www.richard-seaman.com/USA/Cities/Chicago/Landmarks/ChicagoSkyline1.jpg">Chicago, Illinois</a></div><div><a href="http://news.haverford.edu/blogs/cpgc-prague/files/2009/06/prague_street21.jpg">Prague, Czech Republic</a></div><div><a href="http://www.dansadventure.co.uk/images/where-to-stay-in-nairobi.jpg">Nairobi/Mombasa, Kenya</a></div><div><br /></div><div>So... many... more... SOMEONE STOP ME BEFORE I HURT MYSELF!</div></div></div></div>ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-4396134203417288142010-02-05T04:08:00.000-08:002010-02-05T04:36:10.618-08:00With love.So, for the last little while, I've been waking up at like 3 in the morning. When I can't get back to sleep, I've discovered that it can be a good time to catch up on a few blogs!<div><br /></div><div>While I was browsing (which is generally a skill in which I find myself lacking), I found <a href="http://iamminivan.com/2010/01/annie-vincent-to-the-rescue/">this blog</a> about my adorable niece, Annie. And so, reader, since it's the month of February, I'm going to introduce you to my family, and the reasons I love each one of them. I hope it's not too boring for you, but -- well -- you weren't getting anything from this blog for the last several months (years?) anyway.</div><div><br /></div><div>This is Anne-Marie.</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLhBCtnkA-KCRN5RjACJUvZELrVzkDSnzyLrpBNSCAJiiVAQUykONPH2ID3z12gYfzquYv3JPF615uuULFsKbr5h1Xt3nd3Lm6VbwNfxY5mv5LR-5kWjGmY1vMfE0odIroK6jlGrJTzZL2/s320/Annie.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434732686592640546" /></div><div><br /></div><div>In some ways, she reminds me of how I imagine my younger self -- except more awesome. (Mostly just that she's kind of a little person with a little voice, kind of like I was. BUT she compensates by blowing everybody's mind with her intelligence, perspective, and determination. All. The. Time.)</div><div><br /></div><div>I love Annie for having her photo face worked out at a young age.</div><div>I love Annie for her love of music and how good she is at creating it.</div><div>I love Annie for being strong enough to let people know what she wants when other people would be afraid or back down.</div><div>I love Annie for having things figured out when sometimes I don't. She inspires me. It's good to know there're people that are going to take the world by storm. Annie's one of them. She already has.</div>ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-56533678841037139722010-02-05T04:00:00.000-08:002010-02-05T07:04:34.541-08:00$90,000 per second.That's what people pay to run an ad during the Super Bowl.<div><br /></div><div>...</div><div><br /></div><div>...</div><div><br /></div><div>I think I have more to say about Super Bowl ads, but I can't right now. My mind is a little blown.</div>ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-61469728942730857392009-12-28T09:34:00.000-08:002009-12-28T10:47:54.113-08:00My favorite thing I've said this year.<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><div><br /></div>"She threw me off with her generosity, just like everyone else in this stupid town."</span></i></span></b><div><br /></div><div>(After several people gave me the right-of-way when it wasn't my turn -- causing me no end of confusion, the woman at the drive-thru window in an unnamed [at least to me, at that time] Utah town offered me complimentary tiny orange sherbets.) </div>ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537139261025878544.post-69157434697605543302009-11-18T11:10:00.000-08:002009-11-18T12:18:33.860-08:00PPE (Poetic Party Entertainment)When I was in high school, my AP English teacher said many quotable things. But one, in particular, was that it was always good to have a poem or two under your belt for parties. Whip one of those out, and you'll be the belle of the ball -- with all around awed by your wit, grace, intelligence, and charm. So we were required to memorize this poem, which I still remember pretty well. (I didn't look it up, so you could go compare.)<div><br /></div><div></div><blockquote><div>Loveliest of Trees</div><div>by A.E. Housman</div><div><br /></div><div>Loveliest of trees, the cherry now</div><div>Is hung with bloom along the bough,</div><div>And stands about the woodland ride</div><div>Wearing white for Eastertide.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now of my threescore years and ten,</div><div>Twenty will not come again.</div><div>And take from seventy springs a score,</div><div>That only leaves me fifty more.</div><div><br /></div><div>And since to look at things in bloom</div><div>Fifty springs are little room,</div><div>About the woodland I will go</div><div>To see the cherry hung with snow.</div></blockquote><div></div><div><br /></div><div>Were you in rapture? I know. I know. You should see me do it IN PERSON! (Actually, I'm certain I'll be too wimpy to recite it for you.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Here is my other party entertainment option:</div><div><br /></div><div></div><blockquote><div>Could Have Been Worse</div><div>by Bill Dodds</div><div><br /></div><div>My friends have not seen London;</div><div>They've never been to France.</div><div>But yesterday at recess,</div><div>They saw my underpants!</div><div><br /></div><div>I kicked a ball, my skirt flew up,</div><div>And I know what they all saw.</div><div>The girls all stared and blushed and laughed,</div><div>The boys said, "Oo la la!"</div><div><br /></div><div>I've thought a lot about it,</div><div>And this conclusion I have drawn:</div><div>I'm embarrassed that they saw them,</div><div>But I'm glad I had them on.</div></blockquote><div></div><div><br /></div><div>What's your vote on my party entertainment? Do YOU have a poem handy?</div>ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17124314943290148964noreply@blogger.com6