Sorry. I have been "busy" with "living life" and developing an obsessive need for a dawg. I have everything I might need for this dawg, not just the dawg yet. No one in the dirt hole has the sort of dawg I crave, desire, want, need, etc. So i have to travel out of the dirt hole, and that takes timing and planning, etc.
Anyways, the Twilight movie is upon us! Ohnoz! People are going crazy! People are upset at being closed out of apperances! Ohnoz! The world has gone to crazy town! I have been following this craziness via Cleolinda's Occupation:Girl and that is all. I get all Twilight info from this website, as she shares my crazy need for Twilight, but not truely understanding the obessive nature of the fangirls towards it. Basically, she makes it funny and I realized reading something today, that is what is missing from the whole thing: funny. Its got no funny charm like Buffy did. Through reading Cleolinda's summaries and take on the whole thing, it became FUNNY! I enjoyed the fourth book purely because I had read her take on the whole thing, and it was fresh in my memory upon reading the book, so I tended to laugh a lot.
I wonder how the dirt hole will handle this craziness?
19 November 2008
05 November 2008
I rock, I roll, I forget to stop
YAY! BARACK WON!
YAY! ELECTION IS OVER!
YAY! WE CAN START CAMPAIGNING FOR 2012! I AM SO EXCITED!
In other news, I hate close minded people. Some folks my husband works with stated yesterday that people living in the dirt hole should not be allowed to vote as they will vote Democratic, not Republican. WHO CARES IF THEY ARE DEMOCRATS! EVERYONE WHO WANTS TO AND CAN SHOULD VOTE, DAMN IT. How stupid are people? I never heard in my life a person say that "Oh, so and so shouldn't vote because they are Republican." Never. I have heard people say people shouldn't vote because they are stupid, but not based on what paper they are affiliated with. I have only heard close minded people make such comments, and sadly they usually associated themselves with Republicans. WHY?! Why in this day and age are people still making stupid comments like that?
Urg. The other thing is that people in the dirt hole speak Spanish, some of them that is the only laungage they speak. Thus, these close minded people went on to tell my husband that when these Spanish only speaking people show up to vote, the people working point at McCain and tell them to mark that one. This upset me (and a few others) for an array of reasons. One, only US citizens can vote. If you are not born here, to become a citizen one must speak English to a point. Usually better than I speak it, but I digress. They would be able to tell the difference between McCain and Barack. The other thing, which D pointed out to my husband and I, is that while he cannot speak a word of Spanish, he can read names. He can tell the difference between one name from the other and knows who they are. Thus, someone who spoke Spanish and showed up to vote, would know WHO THEY WANTED TO VOTE FOR AND wouldn't be SO STUPID as to FALL FOR THAT ILLEAGAL TRICK.
God, I hate it here. Please, please can I go back to civilization? To my little liberal cocoon? I miss my liberal cocoon. Seriously, where did all these close minded, idiots come from?
YAY! ELECTION IS OVER!
YAY! WE CAN START CAMPAIGNING FOR 2012! I AM SO EXCITED!
In other news, I hate close minded people. Some folks my husband works with stated yesterday that people living in the dirt hole should not be allowed to vote as they will vote Democratic, not Republican. WHO CARES IF THEY ARE DEMOCRATS! EVERYONE WHO WANTS TO AND CAN SHOULD VOTE, DAMN IT. How stupid are people? I never heard in my life a person say that "Oh, so and so shouldn't vote because they are Republican." Never. I have heard people say people shouldn't vote because they are stupid, but not based on what paper they are affiliated with. I have only heard close minded people make such comments, and sadly they usually associated themselves with Republicans. WHY?! Why in this day and age are people still making stupid comments like that?
Urg. The other thing is that people in the dirt hole speak Spanish, some of them that is the only laungage they speak. Thus, these close minded people went on to tell my husband that when these Spanish only speaking people show up to vote, the people working point at McCain and tell them to mark that one. This upset me (and a few others) for an array of reasons. One, only US citizens can vote. If you are not born here, to become a citizen one must speak English to a point. Usually better than I speak it, but I digress. They would be able to tell the difference between McCain and Barack. The other thing, which D pointed out to my husband and I, is that while he cannot speak a word of Spanish, he can read names. He can tell the difference between one name from the other and knows who they are. Thus, someone who spoke Spanish and showed up to vote, would know WHO THEY WANTED TO VOTE FOR AND wouldn't be SO STUPID as to FALL FOR THAT ILLEAGAL TRICK.
God, I hate it here. Please, please can I go back to civilization? To my little liberal cocoon? I miss my liberal cocoon. Seriously, where did all these close minded, idiots come from?
04 November 2008
Pull the shutters tight
Election day is upon us. Tomorrow, the world will change!
(Never mind it changes every minute of our lives, but tomorrow there will be CHANGE)
Four years ago, when Bush was re-elected (or elected for the first time) I was in Scotland, stumbling around while people kept asking me about the election. The day after the election, I do not think I had been noticed more. Suddenly, I was a glaring American beacon who would tell all what America was thinking and WHY they re-elected (or elected for the first time) an idiot. I had no answers for them, as I had not voted, much to the dismay of many. I did not care, I knew who would win and I knew it did not matter what I did. As I stated before, I was pretty right about the whole thing.
This election, even thought I still felt my vote had little count to it, as I know IL will go Democratic, I still voted. Just because I HATE SARAH PALIN. I know this is a LAME reason to vote, but it is why I went out there, went through the hassel and voted.
And now I am advoiding election news at all costs. My husband as watched the weather channel (they predict if it rains, the Republicans win) and the morning news. Later he was on some news website and looking at maps. I ignored him during these points of time by reading books. Now he is at work, and I have watched DVDs and cable TV that will not tell me any news. I find it is best not to expose myself to election coverage. I did not the last election, and actually did not find out who had won until I think maybe lunch. They were not sure at that point still, but it looked as thought Bush had won. By my last class of the day, they sure were Bush had won, and I was the center of attention.
I wonder if Kerry had won, if I would have been the center of attention?
(Never mind it changes every minute of our lives, but tomorrow there will be CHANGE)
Four years ago, when Bush was re-elected (or elected for the first time) I was in Scotland, stumbling around while people kept asking me about the election. The day after the election, I do not think I had been noticed more. Suddenly, I was a glaring American beacon who would tell all what America was thinking and WHY they re-elected (or elected for the first time) an idiot. I had no answers for them, as I had not voted, much to the dismay of many. I did not care, I knew who would win and I knew it did not matter what I did. As I stated before, I was pretty right about the whole thing.
This election, even thought I still felt my vote had little count to it, as I know IL will go Democratic, I still voted. Just because I HATE SARAH PALIN. I know this is a LAME reason to vote, but it is why I went out there, went through the hassel and voted.
And now I am advoiding election news at all costs. My husband as watched the weather channel (they predict if it rains, the Republicans win) and the morning news. Later he was on some news website and looking at maps. I ignored him during these points of time by reading books. Now he is at work, and I have watched DVDs and cable TV that will not tell me any news. I find it is best not to expose myself to election coverage. I did not the last election, and actually did not find out who had won until I think maybe lunch. They were not sure at that point still, but it looked as thought Bush had won. By my last class of the day, they sure were Bush had won, and I was the center of attention.
I wonder if Kerry had won, if I would have been the center of attention?
30 October 2008
I am a fuddy duddy
Well, tomorrow is Halloween. I have never been one of those people who is uber excited by this upcoming holiday. It seemed, as a child, I was always wearing the wrong costume. My mother mostly dictated what I was for Halloween based on what she could sew. Granted, I was always super adorable, but I never have the "it" costume and usually people in my own age group would make fun of me, or just stare at me blankly, wondering what the hell was wrong with me.
The first costume I remember was a bear costume. I was totally adorable. Totally. I still think I was more than likely the cutest kid in preschool, even though as I stood there in all my bear glory, all I wanted to be was Rainbow Bright. Yeah, do you remember her? I sure do simply because I was not Rainbow Bright, but a bear. In kindergarden, I was a bee. Or was that first grade? I do not remember, but I was a bee because my mother paid an arm and a leg for this bee dance costume and she was damn if I was not going to wear it again. I think she even made me wear the black tap shoes she had to buy just for the damn outfit because of course, she had bought me white ones to begin with. And bees do not have white feet. Whatever grade I happened to be in, we walked through the school, and while all the kids stared at me blankly, all the teachers said, "Oh! You're so cute!"
I do not remember what I wanted to be that year, but I do remember I did not want to be a bee. In first or second grade I was Madeline. I lack red hair, so my mom made me a wig, which I hated. It was made out of bright red yarn. She had bought what claimed to be red spray for one's hair, but it was very pink when she sprayed it on a piece of paper, thus it never went in my hair. I think that year I wanted to be The Little Mermaid, which is what the girl across the street was and she had a real red hair wig, not made of yarn.
In fourth grade, my mother talked me into Bonnie from Bonnie and Clyde. I had no idea what the hell she was talking about, but she did not want to spend a lot fo time on me that year due to the fact my brother was going to be Dark Wing Duck, and he had a complicated costume. Thus, she stuck me in some of her old clothes she altered to fit me and made me a "bank bag." No one had any idea I was, except my fourth grade teacher, who when she saw the bag was like, "OH! You're Bonnie!" And I was like, "Uh, yeah." This was the same teacher who had almost lost it when I was a bee with just how cute I was. Later, I got tired of explaining what I was to people, so I told them I was a French Artisit, as that seemed to make more sense to people who weren't smart enough to figure out the bank bag.
My last costume was Kirsten, the American Girl. I was her in fifth grade. I lack blonde hair, so we just crammed my hair into my bonnet and no one was any wiser. At that point in time, my eyes were still brilliantly blue, so I had that going for me. It was the least cool costume, but I do not remember caring that much in all honesty. That year, my mom FINALLY allowed me to come home at lunch to change, thus I did not have to change into my costume in the bathroom. It was a bit complicated to carry in a bag, so she finally let me come home and change.
After that, I never dressed up again really until I was in college. Sophomore year I was Buffy. I had the blonde hair by that point and I had a hair cut similar to the one she had in the second season. So, I put on a white dress, black knee high boots and a leather jacket and proclaimed I was Buffy. It went over well with my friends. In Scotland, I did not celebrate Halloween as I was in Ireland. Senior year, I was going to be Rory, but I discovered my plaid school girl skirt was a bit too short suddenly, so I wore a different skirt and an orange sweater. Everyone still thought I looked like Rory, as I had her hair. And I guess I look sort of like her when I had long hair. But after that I gave up on Halloween. I did not even wear orange or black when I was working. My department did a theme and they all dressed up as various characters from The Wizard of Oz. It was very surreal...my boss was in a Dorthy costume and looked like she was about twelve. And I had to take orders from her! It was odd. Last year, I totally missed Halloween because...uh, I think I was being forced to climb up a mountain maybe? I fail to remember.
This year I think I'll wear my "vintage" dress/tunic I made. It looks sort of mod 60s, and I have been dying to wear it, but I think it looks too 60s if I wear it alone, and I can't seem to find any leggings in the dirt hole to wear with it. Anyways, trick-o-treating here is from 6-8 pm, which to me seems stupid and late. I don't want people ringing my doorbell all through dinner. Evidently, I am the only one who believe that trick-o-treating should be right after school from 3-6. As a kid, I hated waiting till three to go. I can't imagining coming home from school and having to wait three hours to go. A half hour was long enough. Plus, as a kid I hated going after dark as it was colder and I couldn't see where I was going and I felt strange interprupting people's dinner. But I guess I am just a fuddy duddy.
I did finally go buy candy today. My husband claimed if we bought it this past weekend I'd just eat it all. What I forgot to buy was a block fo Velveeta cheese and some chili. Here's the reason I need chili:
I was supposed to be born on Halloween. But, due to the fact I was me at the time, I didn't want to come out and waited around for two more days, putting my mother through a lot of pain, as I thought I might want to come out on Halloween, but then I changed my mind. Anyways, on Halloween night, my mom made chili. It became a tradition for us to have chili on Hallween night after that. We were never big on traditions on our family, and as we got older, my mom seemed like to kill any we had, but my dad always stopped her from killing that one. Last year on Halloween, I failed to eat chili becasue I wasn't home. This year, I'll have to go get some at the grocery store. Maybe I'll get some cheese when I go out again?
The first costume I remember was a bear costume. I was totally adorable. Totally. I still think I was more than likely the cutest kid in preschool, even though as I stood there in all my bear glory, all I wanted to be was Rainbow Bright. Yeah, do you remember her? I sure do simply because I was not Rainbow Bright, but a bear. In kindergarden, I was a bee. Or was that first grade? I do not remember, but I was a bee because my mother paid an arm and a leg for this bee dance costume and she was damn if I was not going to wear it again. I think she even made me wear the black tap shoes she had to buy just for the damn outfit because of course, she had bought me white ones to begin with. And bees do not have white feet. Whatever grade I happened to be in, we walked through the school, and while all the kids stared at me blankly, all the teachers said, "Oh! You're so cute!"
I do not remember what I wanted to be that year, but I do remember I did not want to be a bee. In first or second grade I was Madeline. I lack red hair, so my mom made me a wig, which I hated. It was made out of bright red yarn. She had bought what claimed to be red spray for one's hair, but it was very pink when she sprayed it on a piece of paper, thus it never went in my hair. I think that year I wanted to be The Little Mermaid, which is what the girl across the street was and she had a real red hair wig, not made of yarn.
In fourth grade, my mother talked me into Bonnie from Bonnie and Clyde. I had no idea what the hell she was talking about, but she did not want to spend a lot fo time on me that year due to the fact my brother was going to be Dark Wing Duck, and he had a complicated costume. Thus, she stuck me in some of her old clothes she altered to fit me and made me a "bank bag." No one had any idea I was, except my fourth grade teacher, who when she saw the bag was like, "OH! You're Bonnie!" And I was like, "Uh, yeah." This was the same teacher who had almost lost it when I was a bee with just how cute I was. Later, I got tired of explaining what I was to people, so I told them I was a French Artisit, as that seemed to make more sense to people who weren't smart enough to figure out the bank bag.
My last costume was Kirsten, the American Girl. I was her in fifth grade. I lack blonde hair, so we just crammed my hair into my bonnet and no one was any wiser. At that point in time, my eyes were still brilliantly blue, so I had that going for me. It was the least cool costume, but I do not remember caring that much in all honesty. That year, my mom FINALLY allowed me to come home at lunch to change, thus I did not have to change into my costume in the bathroom. It was a bit complicated to carry in a bag, so she finally let me come home and change.
After that, I never dressed up again really until I was in college. Sophomore year I was Buffy. I had the blonde hair by that point and I had a hair cut similar to the one she had in the second season. So, I put on a white dress, black knee high boots and a leather jacket and proclaimed I was Buffy. It went over well with my friends. In Scotland, I did not celebrate Halloween as I was in Ireland. Senior year, I was going to be Rory, but I discovered my plaid school girl skirt was a bit too short suddenly, so I wore a different skirt and an orange sweater. Everyone still thought I looked like Rory, as I had her hair. And I guess I look sort of like her when I had long hair. But after that I gave up on Halloween. I did not even wear orange or black when I was working. My department did a theme and they all dressed up as various characters from The Wizard of Oz. It was very surreal...my boss was in a Dorthy costume and looked like she was about twelve. And I had to take orders from her! It was odd. Last year, I totally missed Halloween because...uh, I think I was being forced to climb up a mountain maybe? I fail to remember.
This year I think I'll wear my "vintage" dress/tunic I made. It looks sort of mod 60s, and I have been dying to wear it, but I think it looks too 60s if I wear it alone, and I can't seem to find any leggings in the dirt hole to wear with it. Anyways, trick-o-treating here is from 6-8 pm, which to me seems stupid and late. I don't want people ringing my doorbell all through dinner. Evidently, I am the only one who believe that trick-o-treating should be right after school from 3-6. As a kid, I hated waiting till three to go. I can't imagining coming home from school and having to wait three hours to go. A half hour was long enough. Plus, as a kid I hated going after dark as it was colder and I couldn't see where I was going and I felt strange interprupting people's dinner. But I guess I am just a fuddy duddy.
I did finally go buy candy today. My husband claimed if we bought it this past weekend I'd just eat it all. What I forgot to buy was a block fo Velveeta cheese and some chili. Here's the reason I need chili:
I was supposed to be born on Halloween. But, due to the fact I was me at the time, I didn't want to come out and waited around for two more days, putting my mother through a lot of pain, as I thought I might want to come out on Halloween, but then I changed my mind. Anyways, on Halloween night, my mom made chili. It became a tradition for us to have chili on Hallween night after that. We were never big on traditions on our family, and as we got older, my mom seemed like to kill any we had, but my dad always stopped her from killing that one. Last year on Halloween, I failed to eat chili becasue I wasn't home. This year, I'll have to go get some at the grocery store. Maybe I'll get some cheese when I go out again?
27 October 2008
since you've been gone
well, today is a rather big day. many moons ago, on this very day, I decided I wanted to get married. So, I did. And here I am now, married. And old.
Today, in the mail, I got a coupon to Ann Taylor Loft. In honor of my upcoming birthday (yeah, I decided to get married around my birthday. Just to torture my husband.) I also got a reminded to buy life insurance from my credit union so I could get in on my current age rate, and not my soon to be new age rates. I am not going to be using either of these items as a) there isn't an Ann Taylor Loft for at least 200 miles and b) I have had life insurance since I was about four days old. My dad is prepared for everything. I had no idea I had this insurance until he decided after I graduated from college that I should pay it. So, that was when I found out I had life insurance.
This past weekend, my husband and I tried to figure out how to celebrate our anniversary. Seeing we live in a dirt hole, we were lacking in options. We could go to a restaurant that might serve us bad food for an outrageous price, or eat at home and have it be good. So we ate at home. This morning, I found my present on the wall of our living room. My husband conspired with D in order to get it here and not allow me to find it. I am not sure how he did this all, as it is a large picture and I did find the tube it came in. It was in the trunk of my husband's car. Addressed to me. So, yes. Last night he said to D, "Hey, can you bring that thing I gave you to hold on to tomorrow morning?"
This made little sense to me, due to the fact I would be alone in the house all day while he was off flying in circles. With D. Thus, wouldn't it have made more sense to have D bring it later? Well, it was here this morning when I woke, and of course I cried when I saw the picture, as it was a picture of the place we got married. Maybe he did it this way so he wouldn't be around while I stood there and cried? No idea.
On a totally different note, lately I've been carrying a purse that I've has since I was 17. Or maybe 16. I honestly cannot remember when I got this purse. I remember getting it. I remember why I got it. This girl in my Chemistry class had it and I thought it was a really cool purse. It was a basic black purse. It had a stiff handle/arm hole and was made out of canvas. It looked sort of like a Prada purse, but it was made by Guess? before Guess? went all whacko and tacky. I think I paid 50 bucks for this purse and I loved it. I had a friend who called it my armpit purse, because it pretty much sits right under your arm pit when you wear it on your shoulder. This purse freaked this friend out a little, but not as much as my half round mini backpack Ralph Lauren Sport bag I had. I do not know why she was freaked so much by it, but she was. She was under the impression I think I bought purse to freak her out. But that was not why I got it. I got it because to me it seemed a bit more grown up than the purses I had been carring around. I viewed it as an investment, as to me 50 dollars (or whatever it cost at the time) was a lot of money. I carried it for a long time too, I think. It was a great school purse, and when I did break down and buy another cheap purse at Target, I missed the Guess? purse. Every now and then, I'd bring it out again and carry it around, remembering why I loved it.
I got it out the other day. It was squished on the shelf in the Man Room of our house, along with my other black purse I bought for I think 10 bucks last winter when I was job hunting and needed a purse that fit my resume. The Guess? purse has seen better days. The main body of the purse is loosing its shape, but that darn handle is still stiff as the day I bought it. Besides a little sagging in the body, the purse is still good. Though, I discoved it lacks a cell phone pouch. This amazed me as I stared into the purse. I had a cell phone when I bought the purse, but at that time I guess cell phones weren't that big of a thing, as the purse did not have a pocket in it for the phone. I think I spent awhile staring at the purse, wondering what to do with my phone, as it is a newer phone and I'd like to keep it nice. I ended up tossing it in the pocket I used for personal items. So, I've been carrying this ancient Guess? purse around for awhile now. And I am still amazed just how much I love it. (even if it lacks a cell phone pocket.) Since arriving in the dirt hole, I've been carrying a lot of my older purses. I am not sure why, but I have. No one ever says I have a cute purse or anything. The only time people have said anything about my purse is when I carried my Coach purse for awhile. But, who cares. I like my ancient Guess? purse.
Today, in the mail, I got a coupon to Ann Taylor Loft. In honor of my upcoming birthday (yeah, I decided to get married around my birthday. Just to torture my husband.) I also got a reminded to buy life insurance from my credit union so I could get in on my current age rate, and not my soon to be new age rates. I am not going to be using either of these items as a) there isn't an Ann Taylor Loft for at least 200 miles and b) I have had life insurance since I was about four days old. My dad is prepared for everything. I had no idea I had this insurance until he decided after I graduated from college that I should pay it. So, that was when I found out I had life insurance.
This past weekend, my husband and I tried to figure out how to celebrate our anniversary. Seeing we live in a dirt hole, we were lacking in options. We could go to a restaurant that might serve us bad food for an outrageous price, or eat at home and have it be good. So we ate at home. This morning, I found my present on the wall of our living room. My husband conspired with D in order to get it here and not allow me to find it. I am not sure how he did this all, as it is a large picture and I did find the tube it came in. It was in the trunk of my husband's car. Addressed to me. So, yes. Last night he said to D, "Hey, can you bring that thing I gave you to hold on to tomorrow morning?"
This made little sense to me, due to the fact I would be alone in the house all day while he was off flying in circles. With D. Thus, wouldn't it have made more sense to have D bring it later? Well, it was here this morning when I woke, and of course I cried when I saw the picture, as it was a picture of the place we got married. Maybe he did it this way so he wouldn't be around while I stood there and cried? No idea.
On a totally different note, lately I've been carrying a purse that I've has since I was 17. Or maybe 16. I honestly cannot remember when I got this purse. I remember getting it. I remember why I got it. This girl in my Chemistry class had it and I thought it was a really cool purse. It was a basic black purse. It had a stiff handle/arm hole and was made out of canvas. It looked sort of like a Prada purse, but it was made by Guess? before Guess? went all whacko and tacky. I think I paid 50 bucks for this purse and I loved it. I had a friend who called it my armpit purse, because it pretty much sits right under your arm pit when you wear it on your shoulder. This purse freaked this friend out a little, but not as much as my half round mini backpack Ralph Lauren Sport bag I had. I do not know why she was freaked so much by it, but she was. She was under the impression I think I bought purse to freak her out. But that was not why I got it. I got it because to me it seemed a bit more grown up than the purses I had been carring around. I viewed it as an investment, as to me 50 dollars (or whatever it cost at the time) was a lot of money. I carried it for a long time too, I think. It was a great school purse, and when I did break down and buy another cheap purse at Target, I missed the Guess? purse. Every now and then, I'd bring it out again and carry it around, remembering why I loved it.
I got it out the other day. It was squished on the shelf in the Man Room of our house, along with my other black purse I bought for I think 10 bucks last winter when I was job hunting and needed a purse that fit my resume. The Guess? purse has seen better days. The main body of the purse is loosing its shape, but that darn handle is still stiff as the day I bought it. Besides a little sagging in the body, the purse is still good. Though, I discoved it lacks a cell phone pouch. This amazed me as I stared into the purse. I had a cell phone when I bought the purse, but at that time I guess cell phones weren't that big of a thing, as the purse did not have a pocket in it for the phone. I think I spent awhile staring at the purse, wondering what to do with my phone, as it is a newer phone and I'd like to keep it nice. I ended up tossing it in the pocket I used for personal items. So, I've been carrying this ancient Guess? purse around for awhile now. And I am still amazed just how much I love it. (even if it lacks a cell phone pocket.) Since arriving in the dirt hole, I've been carrying a lot of my older purses. I am not sure why, but I have. No one ever says I have a cute purse or anything. The only time people have said anything about my purse is when I carried my Coach purse for awhile. But, who cares. I like my ancient Guess? purse.
23 October 2008
At least he's not bored...
It seems, Mr. Conrad Black has gotten himself a "job" while he is sitting around his prison cell in Florida. He's been writing like crazy since he got there, but now he's working for the Daily Beast.
Whoa. First off, he wrote an article about McCain and how he failed when he needed to be totally hard core. He titled it "McCain Missed A Trick." Now, Conrad doesn't truly lay out a good plan of attack...he is mostly just using his usual huge ass words and waffling along. But he has generated himself press, something I bet he misses.
Today, an article on FDR appeared. I have a feeling Mr. Black thinks he's a major know it all when it comes to FDR, as he did write a book on the man. However, it seems he might need an editor, as pointed out here. I wonder if they have those in prison?
Whoa. First off, he wrote an article about McCain and how he failed when he needed to be totally hard core. He titled it "McCain Missed A Trick." Now, Conrad doesn't truly lay out a good plan of attack...he is mostly just using his usual huge ass words and waffling along. But he has generated himself press, something I bet he misses.
Today, an article on FDR appeared. I have a feeling Mr. Black thinks he's a major know it all when it comes to FDR, as he did write a book on the man. However, it seems he might need an editor, as pointed out here. I wonder if they have those in prison?
22 October 2008
it seems you wish to give me a lifetime of discounts
Four years ago, I lived in Scotland for awhile. (And I know it was four years ago, because I was over there for the last election, which they were UBER excited about there.) Anyways, I spent a lot of time in Boots. At first my dad thought I was buying boots all the time, on a daily basis. However, I explained to him nicely that I was not buying boots (though I really wanted this kick ass pair of knee high boots at the time, but you could not buy those at Boots). I explained what Boots exactly was: a drugstore (or as they call it there a chemist.) About a day later, he figured out that Boots was really called Boots the Chemist and did not sell boots.
About a week into my life in Scotland, I decided to fill out the little card and get a Boots Advantage Card. It made sense to me as I was going to there awhile and I seemed to be spending a lot of time in Boots. (Which is not that strange, as when I was state side I spent a lot of time in Walgreens.) I am not
sure what it is about drug stores, but I love them. I hardly ever actually buy drugs at these drugs stores, but I tend to buy a lot of other things. So, this Advantage Card made total sense to me. By the time I left the country I had managed to get close to 50 or so more pounds on the card, and I managed to get a few nice things for "free." I think when I came home there was still roughly about 5 pounds on the card, which now lives in a scrap book.
Anyways, I left Scotland and came back home and moved back into, well, Target. I left Walgreens for Target in all honesty, but that is another story. Anyways, I did not hear a peep out of Boots until about a year later, when a friend of mine sent me an email in all caps proclaiming TARGET SOLD BOOTS PRODUCTS. Granted, none of the products were the ones I feel in love with (Their Tea Tree Oil line was adored by me and others), but it was still excited to walk down an isle in my local Target and see BOOTS prodcuts. Amazing really.
Then, about a few weeks ago...Boots began to send me emails. Seriously, emails. I was confused on where they had gotten my address. Then I remembered, I had
forked over my old email address when I signed up for the card. However, why some four years later did they suddenly miss me? I figured it was a fluke, but the emails have been steadily flooding in since this break of silence. So, today, after getting an email telling me about a half off sale, I decided to write a post about this odd happening. And guess what? Due to the face that TARGET sells Boots now, they have a US WEBSITE! I was shocked beyond all known words as I stared at this. Now, granded they do not sell EVERYTHING that the UK Boots site does (No Tea Tree and Witch Hazel line here, nor FCUK either...tragic, I know), but it is a website to buy thier stuff. But, I do not think this has anything to do with the fact that I began to get emails. Nope. My emails are still all in British, and about British sales, so they still think I live in Scotland at a joint that is no longer a house. It is an office building now! But, it was still interesting.
Almost as interesting as the day my husband and I walked into Walmart here and they were putting up Christmas Trees. In October. Early October, when they should still be freaking out about Halloween. As I walked into find all these horridly ugly trees, I thought, "Oh, this is just like in Scotland! Sort of skip over Halloween in favor of Christmas!" And within a few days, I had a Boots email about their online Christmas sale.
Lovely.
About a week into my life in Scotland, I decided to fill out the little card and get a Boots Advantage Card. It made sense to me as I was going to there awhile and I seemed to be spending a lot of time in Boots. (Which is not that strange, as when I was state side I spent a lot of time in Walgreens.) I am not
sure what it is about drug stores, but I love them. I hardly ever actually buy drugs at these drugs stores, but I tend to buy a lot of other things. So, this Advantage Card made total sense to me. By the time I left the country I had managed to get close to 50 or so more pounds on the card, and I managed to get a few nice things for "free." I think when I came home there was still roughly about 5 pounds on the card, which now lives in a scrap book.Anyways, I left Scotland and came back home and moved back into, well, Target. I left Walgreens for Target in all honesty, but that is another story. Anyways, I did not hear a peep out of Boots until about a year later, when a friend of mine sent me an email in all caps proclaiming TARGET SOLD BOOTS PRODUCTS. Granted, none of the products were the ones I feel in love with (Their Tea Tree Oil line was adored by me and others), but it was still excited to walk down an isle in my local Target and see BOOTS prodcuts. Amazing really.
Then, about a few weeks ago...Boots began to send me emails. Seriously, emails. I was confused on where they had gotten my address. Then I remembered, I had
forked over my old email address when I signed up for the card. However, why some four years later did they suddenly miss me? I figured it was a fluke, but the emails have been steadily flooding in since this break of silence. So, today, after getting an email telling me about a half off sale, I decided to write a post about this odd happening. And guess what? Due to the face that TARGET sells Boots now, they have a US WEBSITE! I was shocked beyond all known words as I stared at this. Now, granded they do not sell EVERYTHING that the UK Boots site does (No Tea Tree and Witch Hazel line here, nor FCUK either...tragic, I know), but it is a website to buy thier stuff. But, I do not think this has anything to do with the fact that I began to get emails. Nope. My emails are still all in British, and about British sales, so they still think I live in Scotland at a joint that is no longer a house. It is an office building now! But, it was still interesting.Almost as interesting as the day my husband and I walked into Walmart here and they were putting up Christmas Trees. In October. Early October, when they should still be freaking out about Halloween. As I walked into find all these horridly ugly trees, I thought, "Oh, this is just like in Scotland! Sort of skip over Halloween in favor of Christmas!" And within a few days, I had a Boots email about their online Christmas sale.
Lovely.
21 October 2008
The City that Has No People, Suddenly Has Many
I lived in St. Louis for about nine months. I worked in St. Louis for at least six of those nine months. I had an interview in downtown St. Louis during Christmastime. It was midday and there was NO ONE ON THE STREETS. It was totally creepy walking around the streets near Macy's and the street being void of people. It was something I was just unable to comprehend, being from Chicago, where during the week there are a TON of people on the streets and at Christmas time there is hardly room for people on the streets. Every time during those nine months we lived there, neither my husband nor I ever saw people on the streets, except during a baseball game. However, I guess there are quite a few people in St. Louis.
And I guess it is not the Christmas rush that brings the poeple out of hiding in St. Louis, but Barack Obama simply saying "Hey, just meet me in St. Louis, okay?" Who woulda thunk?
20 October 2008
The Truth About Jess the Mess
When I was a senior in college, my last semester a took a class about dogs. It was an English class and we read books about dogs. I cannot remember the name of the class, but it was catchy because it was a Tom McBride class and I think he spent a lot of time naming his classes. The final paper for the class was to be about how we like dogs (and cats too) because they bring us closer to nature due to the fact we name them thus giving them agency.
In all honesty I was not all that into this class for various reasons, one simply being it was an English class and I had found out a few days into my first college English class that I hated English classes. I took the class for two reasons: 1) I needed another class to round out my schedule and 2) It was Tom McBride and I knew he'd let me into the class because he liked me (even if I thought for a long time he was freaked out by me because he found me one spring day my junior year murdering a paper with a pair of scissors). Anyways, on the last day of class, Tom McBride began talking (and talking) about how we humanize dogs (and cats too) because we name them, making them like us and thus bringing us closer to nature.
And the only thing I could think was: OMG! I totally made my computer humanized because I named it! My computer (who is named Jess) had agency because I named it. I have it a personality! I connected the the computer a deeper level because I gave it a name! However, as I laughed at this in my sleep deprived state on late May, I realized that Jess did not bring me clo
ser to nature by giving it a name, which was why Tom McBride claimed we named dogs and kept them around. And, no matter how much social construction I give the computer, in the end he is still a computer no matter how much personality he displays to me (and my dad). I went on with the final paper babbling about how dogs and cats connect us to nature and tragically no matter how many electoric items I name, they will not bring me closer to nature.
This paper seemed a fitting end to my college career for various reasons. One, senior year was the year I began naming things left and right. I had always sworn objects (almost all objects) had some sort of personality. My first cell phone had a mind of its own, thus it was nicknmaed the Getto Phone (spelled wrong because that was how strange the phone was). It would claim I had text messages, when I was unable to recieve them. For days on end it would claim I had voice mail, when I never did. It would turn itself off, ring for no reason, and once for a whole week it just stopped working all together for no reason that was ever explained. Since I was a small child I talked to things that would not talk back. I have always spoken to the computer, the printer, the radio, the car. However, one day while trying to figure out why my laptop of a year was acting like a teenage, broody boy it hit me he was acting like the Jess character from Gilmore Girls. Thus, I just started calling him Jess. My dad started calling him Jess. My friends started calling him Jess. We all acted like Jess was a person, as I swear to god he can hear me.
I came across a few people in my days that do not believe that Jess has a personality. I have had many arguments with them that my electoric objects do have personalities and they just think I am nuts. I think maybe Tom McBride thought I was nuts while reading my final essay of my undergraduate career. It was about my computer. And dogs. I ended the paper with the suggestion that I maybe should get a dog or cat, as all Jess did was bring me frustration rather than joy, as a cat or dog would.
It is three years later. I still have Jess (he seems to behave better in his later years now and gotten over the fact he is a Dell computer with an Apple sticker over the Dell logo) and I do not have a dog, or cat. I did baby sit a dog this past weekend (or dog sit.) Thus, it got me to thinking about my computer essay.
In all honesty I was not all that into this class for various reasons, one simply being it was an English class and I had found out a few days into my first college English class that I hated English classes. I took the class for two reasons: 1) I needed another class to round out my schedule and 2) It was Tom McBride and I knew he'd let me into the class because he liked me (even if I thought for a long time he was freaked out by me because he found me one spring day my junior year murdering a paper with a pair of scissors). Anyways, on the last day of class, Tom McBride began talking (and talking) about how we humanize dogs (and cats too) because we name them, making them like us and thus bringing us closer to nature.
And the only thing I could think was: OMG! I totally made my computer humanized because I named it! My computer (who is named Jess) had agency because I named it. I have it a personality! I connected the the computer a deeper level because I gave it a name! However, as I laughed at this in my sleep deprived state on late May, I realized that Jess did not bring me clo
ser to nature by giving it a name, which was why Tom McBride claimed we named dogs and kept them around. And, no matter how much social construction I give the computer, in the end he is still a computer no matter how much personality he displays to me (and my dad). I went on with the final paper babbling about how dogs and cats connect us to nature and tragically no matter how many electoric items I name, they will not bring me closer to nature.This paper seemed a fitting end to my college career for various reasons. One, senior year was the year I began naming things left and right. I had always sworn objects (almost all objects) had some sort of personality. My first cell phone had a mind of its own, thus it was nicknmaed the Getto Phone (spelled wrong because that was how strange the phone was). It would claim I had text messages, when I was unable to recieve them. For days on end it would claim I had voice mail, when I never did. It would turn itself off, ring for no reason, and once for a whole week it just stopped working all together for no reason that was ever explained. Since I was a small child I talked to things that would not talk back. I have always spoken to the computer, the printer, the radio, the car. However, one day while trying to figure out why my laptop of a year was acting like a teenage, broody boy it hit me he was acting like the Jess character from Gilmore Girls. Thus, I just started calling him Jess. My dad started calling him Jess. My friends started calling him Jess. We all acted like Jess was a person, as I swear to god he can hear me.
I came across a few people in my days that do not believe that Jess has a personality. I have had many arguments with them that my electoric objects do have personalities and they just think I am nuts. I think maybe Tom McBride thought I was nuts while reading my final essay of my undergraduate career. It was about my computer. And dogs. I ended the paper with the suggestion that I maybe should get a dog or cat, as all Jess did was bring me frustration rather than joy, as a cat or dog would.
It is three years later. I still have Jess (he seems to behave better in his later years now and gotten over the fact he is a Dell computer with an Apple sticker over the Dell logo) and I do not have a dog, or cat. I did baby sit a dog this past weekend (or dog sit.) Thus, it got me to thinking about my computer essay.
12 October 2008
the complication of chain link fences
For those of you who actually know me, you know that I am not a huge dog fan. Usually, I am borderline terrified of dogs. This is due mostly to their nature to jump on me and bark at the same time. I understand this is perfect dog-like behavior, but still. I do not enjoy it.
I never had an urge to own a dog. I never thought I would even entertain the idea.
Then...my husband went away for a month and I sat alone in an apartment for a month and suddenly, a dog seemed like a good idea.
I think I mentioned it to him once, and he told me I was crazy. You see, my husband is one of the few people I have come across that likes dogs, but he doesn't want one. He just wants to enjoy other people's dogs.
Thus, when I began thinking about dogs a lot after we got here (I have all ready named the dog several times), he always told me I was nuts and I did not want a dog. He would tell me all the things we could not do once we had a dog. This used to work. Now I just go off and find ways to prove him wrong. Yesterday, a friend of mine sent me a dog in a town about two hours from Dirt Hole USA. I spent almost all day yesterday looking at the web site, always coming back to the dog she sent him. (She is on my side to obtain a dog, because she loves dogs and I think wishes to become a crazy dog lady.) As the day wore on and I kept saying and looking at dogs, my husband said, "Fine. You can get a dog IF YOU PUT THE FENCE IN."
He was silly enough to think this would deter me. I had all ready been plotting to put a fence in fora few days. So, I walked into the study and began to research putting in a fence. The neighbor hood we live in only allows chain link fences, so I looked at those. The only place in teh dirt hole that had the option of pricing them online was Home Depot. Now I do not know a lot about putting in a fence, and my husband who has built a numerous fences over his life time refused to help me, I had to figure out the price on my own. Using Home Depot prices, I figured about 200 dollars. My husband rolled his eyes.
Later, we were hanging out with our friends (one of which is the future crazy dog lady) and both of them had put in a fence (okay, one supervised, one did the hard work). They seemed to think I would not need much, could get it cheaper at this store that did not have a website and this could all be done.
"YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO ENCOURAGE HER!" my husband yelled.
He should have found someone else to try to diswade me, but not the people who enourged me by getting a dog who I now want.
I also think he failed to realize he had challenged me. It was almost like my mother telling me that if I got my ears pirced I would never wear earrings.
I always wear earrings.
I never had an urge to own a dog. I never thought I would even entertain the idea.
Then...my husband went away for a month and I sat alone in an apartment for a month and suddenly, a dog seemed like a good idea.
I think I mentioned it to him once, and he told me I was crazy. You see, my husband is one of the few people I have come across that likes dogs, but he doesn't want one. He just wants to enjoy other people's dogs.
Thus, when I began thinking about dogs a lot after we got here (I have all ready named the dog several times), he always told me I was nuts and I did not want a dog. He would tell me all the things we could not do once we had a dog. This used to work. Now I just go off and find ways to prove him wrong. Yesterday, a friend of mine sent me a dog in a town about two hours from Dirt Hole USA. I spent almost all day yesterday looking at the web site, always coming back to the dog she sent him. (She is on my side to obtain a dog, because she loves dogs and I think wishes to become a crazy dog lady.) As the day wore on and I kept saying and looking at dogs, my husband said, "Fine. You can get a dog IF YOU PUT THE FENCE IN."
He was silly enough to think this would deter me. I had all ready been plotting to put a fence in fora few days. So, I walked into the study and began to research putting in a fence. The neighbor hood we live in only allows chain link fences, so I looked at those. The only place in teh dirt hole that had the option of pricing them online was Home Depot. Now I do not know a lot about putting in a fence, and my husband who has built a numerous fences over his life time refused to help me, I had to figure out the price on my own. Using Home Depot prices, I figured about 200 dollars. My husband rolled his eyes.
Later, we were hanging out with our friends (one of which is the future crazy dog lady) and both of them had put in a fence (okay, one supervised, one did the hard work). They seemed to think I would not need much, could get it cheaper at this store that did not have a website and this could all be done.
"YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO ENCOURAGE HER!" my husband yelled.
He should have found someone else to try to diswade me, but not the people who enourged me by getting a dog who I now want.
I also think he failed to realize he had challenged me. It was almost like my mother telling me that if I got my ears pirced I would never wear earrings.
I always wear earrings.
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