tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79585316997199409412024-02-06T21:41:22.704-07:00Kiss My Sassafrasemmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15629451022419212442noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958531699719940941.post-26800806391101730702012-06-16T00:34:00.001-07:002012-06-16T00:34:04.024-07:00Moving day!Alright guys, I've been hemming and hawing about switching to wordpress for a while now, and I finally decided to do it, before I have too many things to move over. The new blog has a different name, it is called Sickly Joye, and can be found at:<br />
<a href="http://sicklyjoye.wordpress.com/">http://sicklyjoye.wordpress.com</a>
<br />
<br />
I'll move all the posts from here over, so once I do that, you can just read from the wordpress one.<br />
Hooray!emmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15629451022419212442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958531699719940941.post-36258192519813240422012-06-15T18:48:00.000-07:002012-06-15T18:48:16.137-07:00I'm a covergirl!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtIbEbcrXuEmxW3B3hzGVP9D-uewCUiRXeynZMbhtwzInK7-0mjwU_ksD_Se-5y6dcc3tUnjnn9HNCOY0QfGbBZn9U4asIfcXdnfDHt1fOxPl_ThrNPNXkl1qA5657Q5TDFrbM0FQ8A650/s1600/cosmopolitan_cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtIbEbcrXuEmxW3B3hzGVP9D-uewCUiRXeynZMbhtwzInK7-0mjwU_ksD_Se-5y6dcc3tUnjnn9HNCOY0QfGbBZn9U4asIfcXdnfDHt1fOxPl_ThrNPNXkl1qA5657Q5TDFrbM0FQ8A650/s400/cosmopolitan_cover.jpg" width="280" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
After I wrote my last post, I stumbled upon a magazine cover maker on Cosmo's website. I am so very glad I did. </div>
<br />emmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15629451022419212442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958531699719940941.post-40570021119871394262012-06-15T16:25:00.000-07:002012-06-15T20:23:14.061-07:00Diary of a Girl Following Cosmo's Advice<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Monday:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">6:30 AM- Woke up early to match my nail polish to my bra. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">7:00 AM- Putting on my make up before work. Cosmo says that make up makes me feminine and that men will want me because it shows I care about my appearance. I always thought that being healthy showed that I cared about myself, so I'm glad I started reading Cosmo so that I can stop making this mistake. No wonder I don't have a husband!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">7:30 AM- I am trying a new perfume today. Cosmo says the combined smell of pumpkin pie and lavender turns men on. I couldn't find any actual body spray that was scented that way, so I just put some lavender sprigs and half a pumpkin pie into a bottle full of rubbing alcohol. I can't wait to see my boyfriend get all worked up!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">8:40AM- I'm forty minutes late for work. It doesn't seem like the best idea to ask for time off, but Cosmo assures me that scheduling a "vacay" will boost my productivity. I'll go talk to my boss.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">9AM- My boss seemed annoyed when I tried to explain that looking forward to a vacation would make me work harder, and she's not giving me the time off. I am bummed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">9:05AM- Cosmo suggests I watch a youtube video when I feel cranky at work. It's supposed to put me in a better frame of mind! I'll try that.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">9:10- My boss walked into my cubicle while I was watching a video of cats falling off of things. She seems even more annoyed with me now.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">10AM- I'm still upset about my boss, I can't focus. Cosmo says I should exercise while at work, so that I feel ready to tackle the rest of the day.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">10:10 AM- My boss suspended me after finding me doing squats in front of my desk!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">11AM- Found a whole section in Cosmo about cheating. All of the signs point to my boyfriend cheating on me. He never wants me to read his emails, he's started trimming his nose hair, sometimes he smells like baby powder even though we don't have any in the house, and he seems really happy all the time! Like Cosmo says, "<span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;">If your guy is suddenly going around all happy and whistling, then you need to find out why." </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">12 AM- Finally stopped crying enough to read up on Cosmo's body language articles to tell if he is lying or if he is hiding something. If he wraps his ankle around the leg of a chair, shrugs, touches his face underneath his nose, puts his hands in his pockets, his throat gets dry, or he wants to have sex with me, he's hiding something! I'll have to be on the look out for these signs. Thank God for Cosmo!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">5 PM- When I asked him how his day was, he shrugged. Things are looking bleak.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">5:30 PM- He's making dinner, so I'm trying to relax and am reading a Cosmo article titled "How to Train Your Guy." If he's not cheating on me, this might come in handy later.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">8 PM- He wants to have sex with me. ANOTHER WARNING SIGN. Since I still don't know for sure, I will try out some of Cosmo's sex tips.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">9 PM- Life is ruined. I'm suspended from my job, and my boyfriend just dumped me! I don't understand what happened! He must have been cheating on me. He seemed less than impressed with the marbles I scattered over the sheets, even though Cosmo assured me that he would love it. And then, when I tried to slip a frozen grape into his mouth, he spit it out! The last straw seemed to be when I tried to tie a beaded necklace around his junk. He got up out of bed and said he never wanted to see me again! </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">9:10 PM- At least my nails still match my underwear.</span></div>
<br />emmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15629451022419212442noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958531699719940941.post-46530303206925271392012-05-26T20:23:00.002-07:002012-05-26T20:23:58.571-07:00This post is about chickens<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">Today I learned about chicken eyeglasses.</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3JC-dU9V_te0z-0WUz-I5ceu5VXN4wFBINVY69eE4v2tocAzK_ZTVrZ2fi1bB0ytYsKdSI9L5aD3K05L7gkytbTmz0-2MBvtFTHON64uhIisJ9KxRDcb8iA1dPsQj_wk6SJSLFDoYrrE8/s1600/chicken_glasses1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3JC-dU9V_te0z-0WUz-I5ceu5VXN4wFBINVY69eE4v2tocAzK_ZTVrZ2fi1bB0ytYsKdSI9L5aD3K05L7gkytbTmz0-2MBvtFTHON64uhIisJ9KxRDcb8iA1dPsQj_wk6SJSLFDoYrrE8/s320/chicken_glasses1.jpg" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And you can take him to see a 3D movie!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU"> Apparently, people used to put rose colored goggles on their chickens, so that
they wouldn’t be able to recognize blood if they saw it on one another, as that
would trigger an attack instinct. There are several things about this that make
me insanely happy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU" style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: 7pt;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span lang="EN-AU" style="text-indent: -0.25in;">1.<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-AU" style="text-indent: -0.25in;">At some point, somewhere,
putting spectacles on a chicken was seen as an ingenious invention.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvTG7hwRA1-tFEKvsAJrcM0o0S0ywHhpGq3B47-6zlw7z5EO2yuf08fZI9-uaESsfxjPcEVn_FJIrddiVwiOrVMQffTiHLl2_pPw5in4oW4jWZAA_Urg04G42vqU3JB__sGu9uIF_bt9uJ/s1600/200px-Patent_detail-Eye_protector_for_chickens.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvTG7hwRA1-tFEKvsAJrcM0o0S0ywHhpGq3B47-6zlw7z5EO2yuf08fZI9-uaESsfxjPcEVn_FJIrddiVwiOrVMQffTiHLl2_pPw5in4oW4jWZAA_Urg04G42vqU3JB__sGu9uIF_bt9uJ/s1600/200px-Patent_detail-Eye_protector_for_chickens.png" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">2. Someone cared enough to protect
their poor little feathered friends from a mass flock attack. I know it was
probably only done for monetary reasons, you know, saving your livestock and
all that, but it still warms</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">my heart to think of a farmer fitting each of his chickens
with a pair of glasses and then tucking them in all nice and snug and bringing them a warm glass of milk.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7AtK9qe7jQlV-KaewWWn3Ie162gyFcdm7H95xPy5o-TZj0dQCtz3UXij0671gQpGp60lG0ogHY-UiRAXZr0TVAvOuA_9OV7t00uH1os5CYY8e-Zw9r8K7_AWQJ6SRFUwxWa4J_8RyMdrH/s1600/Harwood_spex.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7AtK9qe7jQlV-KaewWWn3Ie162gyFcdm7H95xPy5o-TZj0dQCtz3UXij0671gQpGp60lG0ogHY-UiRAXZr0TVAvOuA_9OV7t00uH1os5CYY8e-Zw9r8K7_AWQJ6SRFUwxWa4J_8RyMdrH/s320/Harwood_spex.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">3. If someone as stable as a turn
of the century U.S. farmer seriously thought these were a good idea, then I now
have some back up for all those times my boyfriend tells me I can’t have a pet just
for the clothes I could make it wear. Like that time I wanted a rat so that I
could put it in a mermaid costume, or the time with the falcon and the tiny
hat.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUGbIs1G7j_-GXLuu3TxwHR1FHYWGISbyxzkouWPYAJzvEl_KAfr5_fEt9Zrtbhsq6mkXwcvxAZpqFuGKkj1HI5drdMJfeR8XwaI8ISMRgNYFt2x8e1AcgQtS6_Z4vak-EJSQ6TTuk3XO_/s1600/rat-500x352.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUGbIs1G7j_-GXLuu3TxwHR1FHYWGISbyxzkouWPYAJzvEl_KAfr5_fEt9Zrtbhsq6mkXwcvxAZpqFuGKkj1HI5drdMJfeR8XwaI8ISMRgNYFt2x8e1AcgQtS6_Z4vak-EJSQ6TTuk3XO_/s320/rat-500x352.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGtsGU7niN65XkEeAc_yzC_0QzeTB1V7bAA3F7wFq7eVJJ3m_KTHDvjYwY3I9jC2dYQBzoacFl-N-0O2PG43CEzkpKgbKBuzEuSbIOA3gqmVvm776SaNM26YI0d9691Na6Ghh8-vzdmWJV/s1600/1292617894EKVT6l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGtsGU7niN65XkEeAc_yzC_0QzeTB1V7bAA3F7wFq7eVJJ3m_KTHDvjYwY3I9jC2dYQBzoacFl-N-0O2PG43CEzkpKgbKBuzEuSbIOA3gqmVvm776SaNM26YI0d9691Na6Ghh8-vzdmWJV/s200/1292617894EKVT6l.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="text-align: center; text-indent: -0.25in;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="text-align: center; text-indent: -0.25in;">4. Because this sentence exists
because of it: “The practice of bespectacling one's chickens was alive and
well, at least as of 1973, when an Illinois poultry farmer was reported in
Illinois' The Hawk-Eye newspaper to have 8,000 chickens fitted with the
rose-colored variety”</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcIJ69sNOmUtt3NNk3CYAfpQhjIVkMMVpgun4RN-4zBev1a5rpXZbm1PJ00GF6QcHSrU6UBxAcm1lSFExmmvHb_LnSCoREEcRQenRPHySX2IzWGPNLlkc5hLFblYVDYvzgpSIISfTrLUbN/s1600/2121-33-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcIJ69sNOmUtt3NNk3CYAfpQhjIVkMMVpgun4RN-4zBev1a5rpXZbm1PJ00GF6QcHSrU6UBxAcm1lSFExmmvHb_LnSCoREEcRQenRPHySX2IzWGPNLlkc5hLFblYVDYvzgpSIISfTrLUbN/s320/2121-33-7.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seriously, who has the patience to do this 8,000 times?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">5. And because this happened:</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/lCTnrsaUY2g?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
6. It makes the chickens look like either hippie stoners, or fierce war heroes. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3H3bIc7bxfHaSxdPqQme3TMhM2nwuOuGNzNdPmdtdE-AZF8C-MoW12XSjX22JMv6tsfK9MBhB5Jfcy9LzsQagLTCwraX2-L68c3QmikAW0BIGdAT0WYe3EnQ5TFYJw0IGJjwzKwrmo07V/s1600/$(KGrHqV,!lUE6CP!(I5mBOgzVJQesg~~60_35.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3H3bIc7bxfHaSxdPqQme3TMhM2nwuOuGNzNdPmdtdE-AZF8C-MoW12XSjX22JMv6tsfK9MBhB5Jfcy9LzsQagLTCwraX2-L68c3QmikAW0BIGdAT0WYe3EnQ5TFYJw0IGJjwzKwrmo07V/s1600/$(KGrHqV,!lUE6CP!(I5mBOgzVJQesg~~60_35.JPG" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkZHk_MOEGADZW-MzNi4CykRXBvOvCq9bNveEH9W6FIwlcS9_Ux-gxtk4xZ2H7xaCbIGnzC1a4SOnGAE1zrC8540L8vec0KyNSPgXoEtGyLzNXpGcf6ijaB0dB5v5SfbDF1X3Lw88eOP34/s1600/coolshades.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkZHk_MOEGADZW-MzNi4CykRXBvOvCq9bNveEH9W6FIwlcS9_Ux-gxtk4xZ2H7xaCbIGnzC1a4SOnGAE1zrC8540L8vec0KyNSPgXoEtGyLzNXpGcf6ijaB0dB5v5SfbDF1X3Lw88eOP34/s320/coolshades.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>emmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15629451022419212442noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958531699719940941.post-63332800577360291042012-04-30T18:24:00.002-07:002012-04-30T18:24:54.803-07:00Sometimes, I don't know how I function<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">Unfamiliar social situations make me
EXTREMELY uncomfortable, to the point that I just avoid them entirely. This is
not just a case of shyness at meeting new people. Oh no. It doesn’t matter if I
am planning on making a good impression, or if I know I will never see the
people involved again. If there is a situation that I haven’t been in before,
and it involves talking to people, you can almost always count me out. Of
course there are exceptions, or else I would be at home all the days and never
make any friends. Usually, someone has to either be very insistent and force me
and guilt/humiliate me into doing something, which causes me to be shy and
quiet and weird the entire night, or they have to be saintishly patient with
me, and offer me constant reassurance and hand holding the whole time, and also
walk me through the entire situation a zillion times beforehand. Then I might
start to feel sort of a little comfortable with the idea of talking to a new
person or going to a new place. What I’m getting at here is, I’m tons of fun to
be around. Here’s a list of things that send me into a panic spiral.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-AU">11<span style="font-size: 7pt;">. </span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-AU">Eating at an unfamiliar
restaurant. Unless I am with someone I know well, and who is also familiar with
the restaurant, I won’t go. There are too many things that could go wrong. I
could hate the food. I could be the wrong sort of person for that restaurant. I
could be under or overdressed. The wait staff could be rude. The menu items
could have ridiculous names, and I will have to mutter that I want a “Rooty Tooty Fresh and Fruity” but then the waitress won’t hear me and then I will
find myself yelling that phrase out in a suddenly hushed restaurant full of
people. It could be a nudist restaurant. I need to know what I am getting
myself into.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://http.cdnlayer.com/smoola/00/00/33/593e4233b002a9be_m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://http.cdnlayer.com/smoola/00/00/33/593e4233b002a9be_m.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Can I have that without the Tooty, please?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-AU">22. <span style="font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-AU">Restaurants and other places
where you give your order at a counter, and then have to pick up your order at
some other window or part of the counter or something. I get very anxious about
where to stand while I wait, and become entirely too stressed out while trying
to figure out where to pick my shit up, even if it is clearly labelled. I
struggle to keep my facial expressions out of a look of horror, because I just
KNOW all the people are staring at me, wondering what the poor lost simple girl
is doing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://im-possible.info/images/art/escher/relativity.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="302" src="http://im-possible.info/images/art/escher/relativity.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can pick up your order at the top of the stairs.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span lang="EN-AU"> 3. Having to walk into a place
that I don’t know very well to meet people. If I know the place, I know the
layout and how things function, and can get to searching with a purpose. If I
don’t know the place, I will walk in and have a look or confusion and searching
on my face, and for some reason, this is entirely unacceptable to me. It is
terrifying to me, that someone might secretly be watching me, and that they
will see this look cross my face. Especially if it turns out I’m early or
something, and the people I am supposed to be meeting aren’t already there and
then I have to stand around feeling awkward until they arrive.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://image.shutterstock.com/display_pic_with_logo/2700/2700,1298551254,14/stock-photo-group-of-multi-ethnic-business-people-looking-at-you-at-a-meeting-71959510.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="227" src="http://image.shutterstock.com/display_pic_with_logo/2700/2700,1298551254,14/stock-photo-group-of-multi-ethnic-business-people-looking-at-you-at-a-meeting-71959510.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What my brain thinks is happening every time I walk in a room.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-AU">4.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-AU">Tripping when I am walking by
myself. If I trip in front of people I know, I’m totally fine with it and will
probably even laugh while I am laying in the ground bleeding. However, if I
even stumble while walking down a path on my own, I am instantly seized with a
feeling of dread. WHAT IF SOMEONE SAW ME? What if they happen to know everyone
I am friends with and then they tell my friends and my friends hate me? I
struggle to act like it never happened, all the while looking around for
potential witnesses who are plotting to destroy my whole life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://nspt4kids.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/bully-boy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://nspt4kids.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/bully-boy.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And then this might happen.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">And so on. I guess what we learned today,
is that I’m a huge freak, and I’m quite up on myself for thinking that people
would be interested enough to be looking at me at all times.<o:p></o:p></span></div>emmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15629451022419212442noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958531699719940941.post-22299678899257051472012-04-07T13:41:00.001-07:002012-04-24T20:11:09.405-07:00I am who I am and I am not ashamed of that. Even though I should be<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">I know this will be a shock to you all, but
my usually impeccable taste is sometimes marred by things that are pretty much
awful, but for some reason, seem to have a pull on me, much like the effect
gravity seems to be having on this young man’s pants.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XG6MnaaAI5w/T4CnQ-H4acI/AAAAAAAAAG8/Cdt974QuA-4/s1600/Judge+Rules+Ban+Saggy+Pants+Unconstitutional+YY9VYRDZn2El.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="210" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XG6MnaaAI5w/T4CnQ-H4acI/AAAAAAAAAG8/Cdt974QuA-4/s320/Judge+Rules+Ban+Saggy+Pants+Unconstitutional+YY9VYRDZn2El.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span><br />
<span lang="EN-AU"> So, if you all promise
not to tell anyone, these are top 5 guilty pleasures. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span lang="EN-AU">1.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span lang="EN-AU"><b>Time Management Games</b>. I can’t
tell you how many I have installed on my phone.
My favourite right now is Bug Village. I can’t explain why I love these
games so much, but I can’t even count the number of times I’ve downloaded one out
of idle curiosity, and then spent the next few hours making sure a pet salon
ran smoothly, while leveling up to meet the increasing needs of my tiny
pixel-y customers. I really have no idea why these games are so appealing. I
think I just like playing god, and controlling little lives. Whatever the
reason, I’m embarrassed to admit it in the presence of those with good taste.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CXIi31Y3gzQ/T4Cgsup4RCI/AAAAAAAAAGM/A9lcL4JChrU/s1600/cake-shop-2-download-free-game+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CXIi31Y3gzQ/T4Cgsup4RCI/AAAAAAAAAGM/A9lcL4JChrU/s320/cake-shop-2-download-free-game+-+Copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Those bright colors are calling my name.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span lang="EN-AU">2.<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> <b>
</b></span></span><span lang="EN-AU"><b>Books with Ridiculous Titles</b>. I
love all books, and the snob in me wishes this weren’t the case, but I especially
love books with bright colors on the cover, or ridiculous titles. Unfortunately,
when these two features combine, the result is almost always really terrible
chick lit. Which I hate. But I can’t resist buying the book anyway, if the
title makes me chuckle. I secretly hope that people will see my hilariously titled
books and also chuckle appreciatively at my sense of humor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAIhybu_1xwTpObATezNjtiX8RyMZZu0WCWXIYyQf8PeH0d-EdO4Rokx86dESAeZrkGIaHtWzs21Zoadr6K7w1fcVXFF-bw4fsmNAxlA6UAibhcyr2_-60PVKIARubgcrwjXb6k8TtD0a1/s1600/Snapshot_20120407.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAIhybu_1xwTpObATezNjtiX8RyMZZu0WCWXIYyQf8PeH0d-EdO4Rokx86dESAeZrkGIaHtWzs21Zoadr6K7w1fcVXFF-bw4fsmNAxlA6UAibhcyr2_-60PVKIARubgcrwjXb6k8TtD0a1/s320/Snapshot_20120407.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is not even close to all of them.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span lang="EN-AU">3.<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> <b>
</b></span></span><span lang="EN-AU"><b>Rap Rock/”Nu-Metal”</b>. I hate
admitting this the most, I think. Those guys are all douche bags, I know, and
the music is definitely really terrible. But when I am having a really cranky day,
nothing cheers me up faster than Fred Durst threating to “skin your ass raw”
with a chainsaw. It’s the simple pleasures I guess.</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0tQgofDnB01LZn5d79gBlvibGi6WCqBXg7URw_H5whSl51e_UD32i6_jvPzOzMA5u6WndNOk3rqpbNZX_5Ef3-_5gRtVJbVAdQlDo60nIKEwsyv_b5DpKigD6BAFmyIDSkPKBwoWBd53D/s1600/durst.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0tQgofDnB01LZn5d79gBlvibGi6WCqBXg7URw_H5whSl51e_UD32i6_jvPzOzMA5u6WndNOk3rqpbNZX_5Ef3-_5gRtVJbVAdQlDo60nIKEwsyv_b5DpKigD6BAFmyIDSkPKBwoWBd53D/s320/durst.jpg" width="310" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Honestly. Just try to imagine it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: -24px;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span lang="EN-AU">4.<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> <b>
</b></span></span><span lang="EN-AU"><b>Disgusting Food. </b>I know
everyone is all health conscious now and eating, like, glucose free vegetarian
kelp, but I just can’t get on board. I like cheeseburgers from Mcdonald's, I craved french fries after reading Fast Food Nation, and I’m
not at all concerned about the “pink slime” many places use for chicken nuggets or beef coins or whatever the hell. </span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hopnL_ejurA/T4ChywDJ-wI/AAAAAAAAAGc/NDGnofQZn8I/s1600/pink-slime_0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hopnL_ejurA/T4ChywDJ-wI/AAAAAAAAAGc/NDGnofQZn8I/s320/pink-slime_0.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yummy!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span lang="EN-AU"> To</span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> be
quite honest, if it’s fast food, I’m not going there for healthful food and top
quality. In fact, I don’t go anywhere for that ever. Because things that are
good for you are almost always not as tasty as something that is bad. So, if
you don’t judge me for eating cold pizza over the sink for breakfast, I won’t
judge you for drinking kombucha.</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRykkInJazAEm0aBkndlmFITNCLiV_7iZpNYi0ACcaRM2IVCw5H8eHBMnmd7rNWcBljsxJwzifDbN8-EiL-VSmqvdLoMszKE9bHAdnRfHk7J8ZlUAtzCgcw7CB6NldSx_a_vpheeP16sDh/s1600/kombucha.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRykkInJazAEm0aBkndlmFITNCLiV_7iZpNYi0ACcaRM2IVCw5H8eHBMnmd7rNWcBljsxJwzifDbN8-EiL-VSmqvdLoMszKE9bHAdnRfHk7J8ZlUAtzCgcw7CB6NldSx_a_vpheeP16sDh/s320/kombucha.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seriously, guys?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span lang="EN-AU">5.<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> <b>
</b></span></span><span lang="EN-AU"><b>Reality TV/Infomericals</b>. I don’t get sucked into shows like Survivor or
Big Brother or American Idol or what have you, but put on Masterchef or The Home Shopping
Network, and I will see you in a few hours because there is no way I’m missing
this. I don’t feel so bad about this one, because I’m not the type of person
that watches much TV, and I also don’t watch the reality shows the first time
around, ever. I almost always discover these shows after they’ve been on for a
season or two, and they are airing reruns in a marathon. I love the shit out of
those marathons. The infomercials I feel a little guiltier about, because I
will watch the same one over and over, and then make other people watch them
too. Sometimes I look them up online, just so I can watch them during normal
hours of the day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8UynOZxMBy2YpfSkQKekCjVyTSJ_zSyMH5hMel2D3Qn8zK_Qru8_8qCMsNfsfniOUrJIFexl0gsDL7i3PpJBUKuZGTx2CH63J085LK2ljVErrx1cayb7xaRy7FsONFdesNmbRbQOoyoSj/s1600/product_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8UynOZxMBy2YpfSkQKekCjVyTSJ_zSyMH5hMel2D3Qn8zK_Qru8_8qCMsNfsfniOUrJIFexl0gsDL7i3PpJBUKuZGTx2CH63J085LK2ljVErrx1cayb7xaRy7FsONFdesNmbRbQOoyoSj/s320/product_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I have wanted one of these for nearly a decade.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So there you have it. I clearly have atrocious taste, hidden under a thin veneer of class.<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>emmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15629451022419212442noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958531699719940941.post-24111845526194094762012-04-02T22:01:00.001-07:002012-04-02T22:02:08.924-07:00It tastes like elk, y'allI meant to post an actual thing today, but then I didn't because school and work and I'm doing 30 straight days of yoga. However, here is a short video of me eating kangaroo.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://i.ytimg.com/vi/b_wVS6i8PU8/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/b_wVS6i8PU8?version=3&f=user_uploads&c=google-webdrive-0&app=youtube_gdata" />
<param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" />
<embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/b_wVS6i8PU8?version=3&f=user_uploads&c=google-webdrive-0&app=youtube_gdata" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object><br />
<br />emmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15629451022419212442noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958531699719940941.post-38423280381488232832012-03-16T18:05:00.002-07:002012-04-07T13:14:39.906-07:00He Heard Footsteps Coming Up the Cellar Stairs...<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">A while ago my lovely friend Chelle wrote a blog (Which you can read <a href="http://chelleshockk.wordpress.com/2012/02/16/reader-beware-youre-in-for-a-scare/">here</a>. She’s much funnier than I am so you should probably go read all her things if you want to be awesome.) about the book series <i>Goosebumps, </i>and it got me all nostalgic, and thinking about another series of books I read very frequently as a kid.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">I don’t know how many of you are familiar with the book <i>Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark </i>by Alvin Schwartz, but I LOVED it when I was about seven or eight. Every week, my class would go to the library, and for weeks, I would check out this book. One week, the librarian persuaded me to try a different book, so I went and got <i>More Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark</i> also by Alvin Schwartz. Eventually, the library got <i>Scary Stories: More Tales to Chill your Bones, </i>and my tiny life was complete. I checked those three books out in a rotation for the rest of the year, except for the one time the librarian made me pick something else, and I checked out <i>Sixty Fingers, Sixty Toes: See How the Dilley Sextuplets Grow! </i>Because I was a strange child and also, the pictures of Becki Dilley pregnant fascinated and horrified me.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://bossip.files.wordpress.com/2009/08/pregbelly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://bossip.files.wordpress.com/2009/08/pregbelly.jpg" width="287" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This isn't her, but really, am I the only one who can't tear my eyes away?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span lang="EN-AU"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">Anyway, looking back on it, I really understand my librarian’s point of view. I’m also starting understand why windows and mirrors make me skittish at night, and why I’m reluctant to go anywhere in the dark. You see, this is what the cover of those books look like:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://my.hsj.org/Portals/2/Schools/1402/Article273568_scary%20tales.jpg/300/300/jpg/Image.ashx" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://my.hsj.org/Portals/2/Schools/1402/Article273568_scary%20tales.jpg/300/300/jpg/Image.ashx" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He just wants a hug, really.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">Even now, select pictures from this book freak me out. Some are funny, in a eerie sort of way, such as this one, that is connected to a story about a kid who brings a big toe home to his mother and she cooks it up and they eat it. Then, that night the boy is trying to go to sleep and he hears a voice calling out, asking for its toe. He finds a strange creature in his chimney, and when he asks it why it has such sharp teeth, the creature responds, "TO CHOMP YOUR BONES!" </span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDXGcGd3JQ7IhFmF02bqzHeYgOCkZ6MB3YZxvbP-SoeDVkfwbpp8CcLP80AWQyGL5toy4MuojDaT3nIDOwWV0DlbCnWbubsm4r7KPoQOdICVAZuIPUXrobOQsFeQycXOsx2LwvD_tVpS0K/s1600/SCARYSTORYTHEBIGTOE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDXGcGd3JQ7IhFmF02bqzHeYgOCkZ6MB3YZxvbP-SoeDVkfwbpp8CcLP80AWQyGL5toy4MuojDaT3nIDOwWV0DlbCnWbubsm4r7KPoQOdICVAZuIPUXrobOQsFeQycXOsx2LwvD_tVpS0K/s320/SCARYSTORYTHEBIGTOE.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Seems legit."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Then though, there are pictures that are truly a little disturbing, especially for a seven year old.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA72latJK7u7RIBJDbsQpjlok41PKupvLoORdsMn0RVOJBoz4ivGrffD2l-7NzG08bJKjN388goX_qVGTAkKfN9VDWnkMumkRX_tyus-m02l56iMt6-mCttGpGH0gnKhPaXNW12b2PTh_z/s1600/scary.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA72latJK7u7RIBJDbsQpjlok41PKupvLoORdsMn0RVOJBoz4ivGrffD2l-7NzG08bJKjN388goX_qVGTAkKfN9VDWnkMumkRX_tyus-m02l56iMt6-mCttGpGH0gnKhPaXNW12b2PTh_z/s320/scary.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top right is called Harold. No, seriously.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I recently got a hold of a copy of one of these books, and rereading it, the stories really aren't that bad, for the most part. I mean, a seven year old could easily read the majority of the stories and not be too terrified, which leads me to wonder who the hell was in charge of the art selection? Whoever they were, they are responsible for the majority of my nightmares as well.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I said that the majority of stories were child appropriate, but in the first book, the section called "Other Dangers" scares me even now. This is the section that contains urban legend type stories, and more modern types of dangers. For example, the story, "High Beams," is a about a girl who is driving home on a lonely road, and notices a car following her, that keeps turning on its brights and flashing them at her. She gets more and more afraid as she drives home, until she pulls into her driveway only to find that the man following her is there too and that his attention is fixed on her backseat. He shows her a man with a knife huddled behind the driver's seat, and says that as he was driving behind her, he saw the knife man reach up to kill her, and every time he saw that, he would turn on his high beams, so that the man would hide back behind the seat. </div>
<div>
Holy shit you guys. I've always wondered why I get so creeped out by my backseat at night while I'm driving home, and in fact, I even look back there before I ever get in the car. The only explanation is that my brain was traumatized by this book.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
You guys should go read these stories, and report back to me and tell me what you thought. They're awesome.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoAh8fpD97oj-MIoxUaOX_sWU11NtuS-1FYO08HljjHOrEiePu1YtwLaN5vX2RKVXBeYi2LB0alGhv1kTwwppMs5uEuva-cMw8vpcLKjqEB5otB3445Ew6sVQreDm4IZ95yCaUByfoxWM/s1600/007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoAh8fpD97oj-MIoxUaOX_sWU11NtuS-1FYO08HljjHOrEiePu1YtwLaN5vX2RKVXBeYi2LB0alGhv1kTwwppMs5uEuva-cMw8vpcLKjqEB5otB3445Ew6sVQreDm4IZ95yCaUByfoxWM/s320/007.JPG" width="235" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why yes, those are spiders crawling out of her face. Happy Nightmares!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br />
</span></div>
</div>emmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15629451022419212442noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958531699719940941.post-29328432858014604822012-03-15T21:51:00.001-07:002012-03-15T22:01:19.816-07:00She'll Be Right, Mate<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU">I’m back, like I promised. I really didn’t expect to follow through with my promise, but surprisingly, I found some free time, and luckily, someone mentioned something about a blog, which made me remember my blog. So here we are. I said that I would tell you all about how I moved to Australia for six months, pretty much on a whim, so I guess I should do that.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU">It all started when a friend of mine mentioned that she had applied to study in France for a year. That sounded pretty interesting to me, so out of idle curiosity one night in March, I decided to look at what my school had in the way of transfer programs. As I was looking, I found one program that had an application deadline of that night, so after giving it about ten minutes of thought and research, I decided to apply, which was fun explaining to my family, let me tell you. About a month later, after filling out more paperwork and sending specific universities some details through the program, I was told I was selected to study at Edith Cowan University in Perth, West Australia. That sounded just dandy to me, but I only had about a month and a half to convince a bank to give me money, sort out travel details, and all the other things that people have to do when they decide to up and move to another country. It was a stressful, tearful, eventful month and a half, but I finally accomplished all that I needed to and hopped on a plane full of screaming children on July 10<sup>th</sup>. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU">The first week was spent in Cairns, for an orientation week, with all the other kids from the U.S. that were part of this program. I got to do a lot of stereotypical things that people do when they go to Australia, and get it out of my system before I had to settle in at my dorm in Perth.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU">Here’s a photo montage of stuff I did:<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mZJVdyR9agU/T2LCPipdo7I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/eV6Uvw9znJA/s1600/SAM_0672.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mZJVdyR9agU/T2LCPipdo7I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/eV6Uvw9znJA/s320/SAM_0672.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G248Tw7sWIU/T2LCfdxdLTI/AAAAAAAAAEY/BUnin-7MFa0/s1600/SAM_0677.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G248Tw7sWIU/T2LCfdxdLTI/AAAAAAAAAEY/BUnin-7MFa0/s320/SAM_0677.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEsYHYAdnDR7qoXKX4tC9JtMWKzwS9zeFU2B-FCsClfMhlz-wiAU-_NIlkdNJqFb9noTyiknHyvoxmxAGxWrmxaHDdKAsKV_-pRvSiK7yqmtsrlOPHfJD2VXsiuMZoK_DhxQy8gru3LXSX/s1600/SAM_0682.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEsYHYAdnDR7qoXKX4tC9JtMWKzwS9zeFU2B-FCsClfMhlz-wiAU-_NIlkdNJqFb9noTyiknHyvoxmxAGxWrmxaHDdKAsKV_-pRvSiK7yqmtsrlOPHfJD2VXsiuMZoK_DhxQy8gru3LXSX/s320/SAM_0682.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xkIr8vSxDC0/T2LEWcKMF3I/AAAAAAAAAFA/FL-NacqxLeM/s1600/SAM_0788.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xkIr8vSxDC0/T2LEWcKMF3I/AAAAAAAAAFA/FL-NacqxLeM/s320/SAM_0788.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Fb8d4eI1I-cMorjmia4T98O1mYzYUvTwfzfl-GW53_xrmrTitxvZYZmxRzcl6iuEg7FudwY09K6mDLwm2bHcU6a40-dSEZ1smrtFhf-Dx6wnZH-ghGboxs_O7OSRXI6CFHr3ch5qE4Ky/s1600/SAM_0790.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Fb8d4eI1I-cMorjmia4T98O1mYzYUvTwfzfl-GW53_xrmrTitxvZYZmxRzcl6iuEg7FudwY09K6mDLwm2bHcU6a40-dSEZ1smrtFhf-Dx6wnZH-ghGboxs_O7OSRXI6CFHr3ch5qE4Ky/s320/SAM_0790.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F2tnLsjIzTU/T2LE25nZPdI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/JbmsDNvkJr0/s1600/SAM_0807.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F2tnLsjIzTU/T2LE25nZPdI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/JbmsDNvkJr0/s320/SAM_0807.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUNUtkofFiRtUOtFYTRW8luQNclwKp0_AQXq4vXkeGOJDdQ5yXSuGOZj0EYEq29WGeCXmhyv29sLkNUwBRf4aByNu44PFUXxKHssQwrFHf_NcI4aXFVG3n2-0db1TfRAzCTwA4CHipB2Wa/s1600/SAM_0820.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUNUtkofFiRtUOtFYTRW8luQNclwKp0_AQXq4vXkeGOJDdQ5yXSuGOZj0EYEq29WGeCXmhyv29sLkNUwBRf4aByNu44PFUXxKHssQwrFHf_NcI4aXFVG3n2-0db1TfRAzCTwA4CHipB2Wa/s320/SAM_0820.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-e8Z-WXZiVVE/T2LFOmbhR6I/AAAAAAAAAFg/8lSixXCeWhQ/s1600/SAM_0825.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-e8Z-WXZiVVE/T2LFOmbhR6I/AAAAAAAAAFg/8lSixXCeWhQ/s320/SAM_0825.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HKCl8aLexiM/T2LFX-YS4yI/AAAAAAAAAFo/ydNUt9gZnOs/s1600/SAM_0835.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HKCl8aLexiM/T2LFX-YS4yI/AAAAAAAAAFo/ydNUt9gZnOs/s320/SAM_0835.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D71Frfi7eGo/T2LFhvpujpI/AAAAAAAAAFw/JMmaKc31zPg/s1600/SAM_0885.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D71Frfi7eGo/T2LFhvpujpI/AAAAAAAAAFw/JMmaKc31zPg/s320/SAM_0885.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU">I totally met a guy there too.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U2_FA8M5hng/T2LDUA3g5mI/AAAAAAAAAEo/_M98NOvz2OQ/s1600/SAM_0818.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U2_FA8M5hng/T2LDUA3g5mI/AAAAAAAAAEo/_M98NOvz2OQ/s320/SAM_0818.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FOBAl2--L4Y/T2LDdDJIJrI/AAAAAAAAAEw/W_756mPKd-U/s1600/SAM_0740.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FOBAl2--L4Y/T2LDdDJIJrI/AAAAAAAAAEw/W_756mPKd-U/s320/SAM_0740.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU"> He’s pretty swell. He’s coming to visit in 3 months, so I guess I better start preparing him for the gluttony and supercrime he’s likely to encounter in the US.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU">And that’s really all. I went to school, and hung out with my boyfriend, and just generally enjoyed the loveliness that is Australia. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZIjs1zfrlLY/T2LD3irF0kI/AAAAAAAAAE4/Rf58DwGSp5o/s1600/SAM_0858.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZIjs1zfrlLY/T2LD3irF0kI/AAAAAAAAAE4/Rf58DwGSp5o/s320/SAM_0858.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU">Be back soon hopefully!<o:p></o:p></span></div>emmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15629451022419212442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958531699719940941.post-62452420187453779622012-02-27T23:07:00.000-07:002012-02-27T23:07:07.048-07:00Cleaning upI deleted a bunch of things. They were whiny and a lot of the links to the pictures for context were broken anyway. I'll return soon, hopefully to detail what I've actually been doing for the past year.emmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15629451022419212442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958531699719940941.post-73919527410547776532011-03-16T21:05:00.001-07:002012-03-16T17:03:19.098-07:00Decisions, Decisions.I've been feeling really unhappy with my whole life situation recently.<br />
I've been considering transferring schools.<br />
I'm really unsure though.<br />
<br />
For one thing, I don't want to choose the wrong school. The whole point of me leaving UNM would be to go to a school that has a stronger Education program, but I have have tons of other factors to consider. I'm also not sure if it's worth it, just to be a teacher. On one hand, I really want to be a strong, beneficial teacher, and I don't think I'll be able to accomplish that at UNM, but on the other hand, maybe the school doesn't matter as much as my motivation. <br />
<br />
I also am worried about being able to handle a "real" school. I went to public schools in NM, which are notoriously bad. Maybe it would be best for me to stay at UNM, where at least I know I'm properly trained to handle the course work. <br />
<br />
Of course paying for all of this is a worry too, but I'm more than willing to figure that out however I have to. <br />
<br />
I'm stressed. I thought I had it pretty much figured out earlier, but then something happened that made me less sure, and now I'm just in a flaily, confused, angsty state. <br />
I wish I had figured all this out BEFORE I started at a school.<br />
<br />
You guys thought I was kidding about the post its? <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7EMfFxSp_G3qdg9vhwFm4lmiLyKLBvu0lMlS4mMsVz_-oZvvbqRpWjx8yDp1vrLAU4mlqjxVPJ-yMGwjGVsjabPw04t2SsWkjTaVOt3voAHgx2A2BIFUQtke-XAmTvWJTll2o3Ctd4w_i/s1600/Snapshot_20110316_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7EMfFxSp_G3qdg9vhwFm4lmiLyKLBvu0lMlS4mMsVz_-oZvvbqRpWjx8yDp1vrLAU4mlqjxVPJ-yMGwjGVsjabPw04t2SsWkjTaVOt3voAHgx2A2BIFUQtke-XAmTvWJTll2o3Ctd4w_i/s320/Snapshot_20110316_2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>There's my pro and con lists. <br />
<br />
Maybe I'll just drop out and be a professional organizer.emmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15629451022419212442noreply@blogger.com2