NOTE: The best was saved for last - don't forget to scroll down through these cutie-patooties!
And the best saved for last...
These last three pics have been in my Flickr for a while now, but these few always deserve another nod...
Last night while watching the Ladies ice skating short program with my dear friend, Ryan, the following was actually spoken aloud while watching a "Jack in the Box" commercial in which "Jack" is seen having a high school flashback, remembering the girl he had asked to be his prom date: "I find Jack attractive. It's the voice, I think. I really find him attractive - he turns me on." It wasn't me.
BTW: Check out the Jack in the Crack pressroom release on "Jack"... link here. <--- this is TOO funny.
NOTE: This was written on February 16th and then...? Then I forgot to post it!?! So it begins...
Yuppers, my blog was born a year ago today [that would have been February 16th, last week]... See my first post here. I had read a very sweet Valentine's Day tribute written by Dang Cold for his wife. It was such an adoring, endearing tribute, and I was touched to tears and I had wanted to tell him "You so rock, dewd!" Going through the motions of creating a Login profile so I could post a comment (not understanding the Anonymous option at the time - and not all blogs allow anonymous posting), my blog was inadvertently born. SIDE NOTE: Sadly, Dang's lovely tribute to his wife was later lost, when Blogger wigged out and sacked Dang's entire original blog site and all its previous posts!?! ANOTHER SIDE NOTE: Although Blogger is free-free-free, she can be a bitter bitch at times!
The Blog Birthing Process or "How it all really began": Sometime in mid-December of 2004 - or was it November? - I was in L.A. at my honey-man's ex-wife's home and she and I had sat down together for some chit chat. [Tangent: I'm gunna haftah come up with something better than "the ex-wife" = I just don't like that for that fact that #1 - She has a name, ya know? and #2 - I happen to have a good, healthy relationship with "the Ex." Unusual for most ex-situations, I know, but we're friends and I just can't call her "the ex-wife." Hmmm... how 'bout "the angel boy-O's mommie" - - ? Nope; that's too long, and well, it's a ridiculous way to refer to her, even if she is his mama! Need to come up with something more personal, as in "she's-a-person-whom-I consider-a-personal-friend." I'll have to have her help me come up with a pseudonym. End of Tangent] It was then, during that visit, that she told me about a fellow recovering mormon who went to and graduated from BYU (as did I) and lived in L.A. (as will I), later relocating to Ootah (Utah), who has a hilarious website called dooce.com, "spelled with two Os, unlike deuce." She told me I'd love it and then some, and that I had to look it up. Once I returned to Vegas from L.A., in the midst of a work day, I made a point to search out the dooce site and bookmark it as a future read. Then the holidays kicked into high gear and I plum forgot all about dooce.
Over the Chrimpus break (we're still referring to 2004), while visiting a ton of friends and family in Ootah with my honey-man, I had to see my longtime childhood friend, Anna Dilemna. She was home from Japan, staying with her family in Salt Lake for a few weeks. My honey-man and I were sitting with her in her parents' front room, visiting and enjoying some coffee together, and at one point, I had to ask her why she kept looking out the window from where she sat on the couch. She then told me that for months she had been reading a particular blog she had found online while in Japan, and that she had just figured out during her SLC visit that the owner/writer of this particular blog lived right across the street from her mum... "Oh really?!? What a small world!" We asked her some questions and many answers were given... Specifically, "It's spelled with two Os, unlike deuce" and WAH-LAH! Excitedly, we told "Anna" about how I had just heard about this dooce blogger by my honey-man's ex-wife-who-deserves- a-nice-pseudonym, and that I had been told that I would love this blog and that it's hysterical and blah, blah, blah, etc. etc. etc. And loud and true, we all declared to one another over coffee, sitting across the street from where the Dooce lives, peering out the window together, "Ohhh yes, what a small world it is!"
What was even better than that was the reaction we got later on... On our way up to Bear Lake, Idaho, we stopped in Ogden, UT where I met for the first time the large extended family of the ex-wife-who-deserves- a-nice-pseudonym, and I told her the news of my it's-a-small-world-after-all discovery. And again, we declared together, "Ohhh yes, what a small world it is, indeed!"
Back in Vegas, I rediscovered my dooce bookmark, and so began my dooce obsession of sorts. Initially, I spent hours reading dooce archives - laughing, crying, laughing some more, and laughing to tears. After a couple weeks of that, things began to progress further... At the time, there were post comments and daily picture comments and I began to check in to read those too. And things progressed even further... I began to check out the blogger profiles and the websites of those who posted regular comments on dooce.com, and soon thereafter, I began to watch for the comments of certain "doocelings." Yes, this group of regular commenters on dooce.com even took on the name of "doocelings." NOTE: On a case by case basis, this term is either loved or hated by the said doocelings. Eventually, I posted a comment(s), sometimes reaching a level of unprecidented lunacy. For a brief time, before the Dooce turned off all comments for good (with good reason), I became a fellow dooceling, although not as prominent a dooceling as others... Amanda B., Bucky 4 Eyes, CanadianAmy, ClosetMetro, CircusKelli, Dang Cold, Doc Ern, Greenthumb, Kristine, Ladybug, Mihow, Mrs. Strizzay, RazDreams, Susie, UPPERCASE GOD, Wave of Modulation, etc. etc. etc. The dooceling list could go on and on.
Anywhooo, so before Dooce turned off her comments for good, many fellow doocelings created their own blogs around the same time and "blog rolling" became my next obsession... and many of us, for a year now, have continued to blog and visit one another's blogs still. Soooo, as a mere visitor, I entered the Blogosphere, and quickly, I was drawn in by the growing dooceling community. And inadvertently, I became a blogger. That was a year ago - I know, I mentioned that already - and it's funny to realize I'm still blogging and what it's become for me = an outlet... even if half (no, more like the majority) of what I share is total fluff and utter nonsense. Overall, it's been fun! I wonder for how long I'll keep this up? Nevertheless, Happy Bloggiversary to me!
*UPDATE* The pseudonym for my honey-man's "ex-wife" has been determined = She shall be referred to as "Wendy."
Once again, according to Kristine... under my bed as it is, my pots and pans as they are, and my stereo(s). I think the idea behind this "In All My Glory" theme was to reveal unkept spaces... I'm an anal retentive, insanely organized looney! Very few messes to be found; everything has it's place and I own a gazillion Sterilite storage bins... how many? I really don't think I should have to count - trust me.
Last night I was a bit wound up and I couldn't relax - my brow was furrowed, my jaw was clenched, my shoulders were haunched up - wound up real tight, I was. Sooooo, I smeared on a mud mask and drew a HOT bath (why is it "drew"?), and I heated up a small glass of milk in my non-smoke-spewing microwave (there's a story there, but I'll spare you), and mixed into the hot milk SEVERAL drops of lavendar, eucalyptus, and peppermint essence oils. This lil' milky oh-so strong very smelly concoction was then dumped into the steaming tub water and ahhhhhhh... instant relaxation.
While soaking, eyes closed, mud mask still on and dripping, long beyond the getting-pruney phase, I reached up to the spot where my facial scrub, among other things, sits on a ledge. Groping around, I felt what I thought was the right tube (can you see where this is going?) and dispensed a generous nickle's worth of cream into my hand and then I began to rub both my hands together... Can I tell you how ssooo very grateful I am for my sensitivity to texture!?!? It was the texture that alerted me - oh yes, my nose was absolutely worthless in this situation. Although I have an excellent sniffer, with all the lavendar and peppermint wafting around? I couldn't distinguish minty toothpaste from dog shit! Yes, I had grabbed the toothpaste. It was then that I thought of Sheryl and the story of her unfortunate midnight (2am) mishap came flooding back to me. I was not so unfortunate as she had been, and of course, wouldn't have been so, even if I had gone ahead and applied toothpaste to my face... See Sheryl's 2005 November 3rd post. And by the way, I adore this woman's stark honesty.
This has been 'it' for me...
On behalf of SPF and Kristine, Kami had taken over last Friday's SPF theme - and I'm just getting around to it. Yes, I know it's no longer Friday, but hey, if I wanna play, I gotta play when I can - right?
#1 What I love about my home: I love that I have a washer and dryer available 24/7, for my own discretionary use AND it's right outside my patio door, tucked away in a double-doored closet. Why is it outside? Any person living in Vegas would prefer to have his/her dryer running outside = 1) much more quiet, 2) won't heat up my home interior, and 3) results in lower electricity bills. Another thing I love about my home: See the dark, open doorway behind Otis?
This is roomie's bedroom door. Now, see the other pic which shows a large frame on the wall, beyond Otis, who's looking back at me over his kitty shoulder? To the left of that wall with the large frame is my own bedroom door, on the complete and total opposite side of the front room/apartment, away from my roomie's.
This means that we don't share a bedroom wall between us. It is soooooo nyce. This aspect of my apartment's layout was what sold me on the place - that and the washer/dryer kept outside. Oh, and I also absolutely love my kitchen "passthrough" window.
#2 What I don't love about my home: I can't really think of anything I don't like about my current abode, other than the fact that I don't own it and pay rent for it. I could say I don't like the water heater(s), but that's hopefully now a thing of the past. There is one little thing, however: See the pic with the beige little box inserted into the lower part of an electrical outlet, with Owen standing off to the right side (he always sniffs it - I have no idea why)? One day, oh-so casually, I unplugged this box and immediately, the security alarm for my apartment went off, blaring like an ambulance siren! Thankfully, ya plug the damn thing back in and it'll quit right away, BUT the first time I discovered this deafening phenomenon? One of the alarm speakers is just to the right, above the bed and its sound-off is aimed directly at whomever unplugs that lil' beige box. I about had a freakin' heart attack! I swear! And Otis and Owen? They both poofed up like racoons, sprinting from the bedroom, to only be faced with double the alarm power in the front room, where two alarm speakers were sounding off! They were so rattled by the experience, their little hearts were still racing almost 20 minutes later.
#3 What I love about me: I love that my honey-man loves me!
I'd like my open letter to "Anonymous" AKA Mr. T.R. to remain prominently at the forefront of my blog until next week... So ladies and germs, I won't be playing SPF today, this Friday, but rather on Monday or maybe Sunday. Of course, this doesn't mean I won't come around and take a peek at what everyone's shared!
Posted by Annejelynn at 7:42 AM
FOREWARNING: My Dear friendly, fellow Bloggers, friends and family ~ The tone of this post may seem somewhat outta character, but trust me - it's been a long time coming, well overdue... My PREMISE: It's amazing, the information a site meter may provide! ~ Ya know, referral pages, the city locations of visitors, who's viewing my blog right now, how many pages each visitor views and for how long, plus the actual domain names and the IP addresses of my visitors. Anyhow, it's not uncommon for a new visitor to come by for a first-time and then never return - however - some visitors come back repeatedly... Repeat visitors who don't post comments are called "lurkers," (like you, Poppy) but sometimes a lurker will occasionally "delurk," to post a first-time comment or two - - usually a most welcome occurrence, but not in this case...
This is where my open letter to Mr. T.R. really begins: For several weeks now, I've noted the existence of one particular lurker - - that would be YOU, Mr. T.R. - - Yes, I SEE YOU and your recent 'anonymous' comments were not quite so anonymous as you may have thought, although you had to have known that I'd know those comments were from you. Who else? Granted, my blog is published to the internet for ALL to see, whoever may know of it, happen upon it or seek it out; this is all understood. Albeit, to have you as a regular visitor? It's downright CREEPY to discover an ex-boyfriend repeatedly visits my blog on a regular, almost daily basis! And the day I discovered you had viewed my blog at least 4 times in one day?!? - REALLY CREEPY - Of course, you should realize I've kept my friends and family abreast of the situation and then some, including my honey-man. Oh and by the way - please, no more drunken midnight calls, okay? And those ridiculous, absolutely obnoxious calls the night/morning of New Years, while I was in Keystone, CO with my honey-man and my entire immediate family? Yah, it's finally official: My whole family thinks you're frickin' nuts.
NOTE: At this point (the getting nasty point), I must admit my honey-man has wisely advised that I ignore your calls, your emails and your visits to my blog, and now, your 'anonymous' comments, and he told me I should just wait to make things clear to you the next time you may call again or email me directly. The problem with all that is this: I don't want to wait around for the next time. I've had enough and I want you to know it, so in case there's any doubt, I'll now respond to your not-so-anonymous comments, inserting therein my writing between [ ] marks:
#1 comment from "Anonymous" aka Mr. T.R. (my original post here): It looks amazingly just like a stocking my ex-girlfriend [you mean ME, you schmuck] made for me about 3 years ago [As I said before, I've made other stockings - my old kitty had one and my ex-hub too. In fact, I hope to make a Chrimpus tree skirt next year from my remaining scraps and remnant quilt squares, some of which I've had since 1997]. I gave it back after we broke up [and it was happily passed on to Goodwill], along with everything else she every [his typo, not mine] gave me [That's not true actually - you kept the blue devil jammies and some other stuff I won't bother to list cuz that stuff matters in no way at all, except that I'm sick of hearing how you gave it all back.] because she broke my heart [Speaking of which, some of the stuff you did and said and wrote to me, the majority of which I wouldn't dare mention here? I've wondered a thousand times what the hell was wrong with me, dating you as long as I did.]. I'm glad I did because I would never had enjoyed it because it reminded me of her.
#2 comment from "Anonymous" aka Mr. T.R. (my original post here): My ex-girlfriend [again, that would be ME] made me a drawing just like that for Valentine's Day [Admission: I began working on it well before I ever met you, when I first moved to Vegas - my father, Jasey and Loren would all back me up on that - and I had decided to give it to you since I hadn't anything else in the works, but at the time, I had been saving it and had wanted to give you something special, even though I had worried I'd regret it.]. I had it up in my office for about 1 month until we broke up. I was surprised myself that something that seemed so genuine at the time just shattered to pieces less than one month later [Again, had I known better, our relationship would have ended months earlier]. I ended up giving it back [thank God], but she had already made a copy for herself [I have three copies now, including an electronic scan]. It was very impressive [still is], I thought it was an original [still is one] until now, she must have copied it from you [You are a schmuck and an ass to pose as an anonymous stranger in my comments - did I say that already?]. I wish I still had it to remember her by, but I have nothing but her memory now which is probably for the better anyhow. [Frankly, you should forget me entirely - PUHLEEZE!!! Do you wanna know how I remember you? Huh? I remember that you thought my preference for an ice cream cone over a paper cup was too sexually suggestive?!? - - how's that for a reality check!?!]
So what's the point of this open letter? #1) I want you to know that I see you and know that you come here, and #2) considering your most recent attempts to contact me, these visits are INCREDIBLY CREEPY, and #3) If you have something more to say to me or questions to ask, I suggest you get it over and done with and MOVE ON! Again, I understand my blog is out there for public viewing and I can't stop you, but honestly, your visits to my blog are not welcome for the fact that you and I are NOT on friendly stay-in-touch terms... Do I ever call you? do I ever email you? write to you? No, I do none of these things, and I can't imagine your visits here are truly healthy or helpful to you in any way, shape or form. Upon telling friends and family about all this, the general consensus amongst them goes along the lines of "Holy Shit! How creepy is that!?! He needs to move on!" - I couldn't agree more.
Once again, as was the case with my Montreal pics (5 related post found in my 2005 October Archives), I'm not sure in what order these babies will post, sooo figure it out (click on the images for a larger view): Alrighty now - - the "Testicle Festival" pic is actually a T-shirt that my big (6" 6' tall) little, 17 yr-old brother owns and proudly wears. He went with my father and my father's best friend, Don, to the event last year and yes, they all had themselves some beef balls. Why they wanted to do this? For the life of me, I can't figure it out. Then there's a smiley pic of me, goggled and hooded, hangin' on the side of a ski slope - this pic was taken on my 31st birthday I think.
Then, there's a scenic pic of the valley view taken from a ski lift - it was ahhmazing and I'm sorry I never really got a shot that truly captured the breathtaking views from atop the mountains. Then there's the pic that shows the one of the 4-seater chair lifts visible - look to the right in that pic (may need to enlarge it) and you'll see mardi gra beads hangin' in the trees. There was a red bra on the next tree that - alas - I did not capture, but we laughed every time we saw it on our way up that lift.
The most amazing hot chocolate - for a machine mix! Look at that?!? The topping was real whip cream! It was rich enough that we shared 'them' (yes, plural) between the two of us. Mmm... I want one right NOW.
And the one in which you see the tailgate lights of a semi-truck? We were driving back to Keystone from Vail at the time. Lucky for us all, our driver was a driving- in-the- snow veteran from Billings, Montana. I spoke to a friend on my cell during this drive and actually failed to accurately relate our driving conditions to that of a "snow storm/blizzard." Everyone in the car had heard me and immediately, I was offered a ringing 3-part chorus of corrections.
Okay now, don't be alarmed - naah, go ahead, be alarmed. We were. Our first full day in the condo, things were quiet and I realized at one point, everyone's here, but where? I went to the top floor to find my sis, my bro, my father and one of our family friends all hangin' out in the master bedroom, glued to the boob tube. This commercial came on - the commercial ran long enough for me to run down 2 levels of stairs and return with my camera = I had to take a picture. As you can guess, the product is made to remove urine - not just pet urine, but human urine - - ??? Lots of blacklighting was used in the ad to reveal how nasty a household bathroom could be - everyone was thoroughly grossed out and laughing deliriously. It may have been the altitude, but we were all dying. *UPDATE*: THE DISCOVERED LINK (don't ask me how I found it - No, I didn't search for it!)
Mmkay, a much needed change of subject: From the top of "Schoolmarm," you can see all throughout the valley, including ski slopes visible across the way. It was absolutely breathtaking - and it was awesome to hear Led Zeppelin's "Immigrant Song" playing over the loud speakers while taking in the view Can you see those slopes?
Then there's the pic of me lounging at the bottom of "Mozart." The bizarre growth at the back of my head is my own arm. And then the frosty ski poles... had we not gotten up early to hit the slopes that day, I would have missed 'em.
Those of you with a blogroll, so sorry for the repeat publishing - blasted format edits!
*UPDATE* My apartment should be back in order by Saturday AM! Well, not back in order necessarily, but ready to be put back in order! WOO-HOO! Hooray for speedy contractors! Written February 1st: It's after 7:40pm and I'm still at work because I. DO. NOT. WANT. TO. GO. HOME. Why not? It's happened again, but THIS TIME, I'm not yet sure if this will be the worst of it or not, when compared to the first time...
THE 'FIRST TIME': Right at the tail-end of a long, hot Vegas summer (blak!), a year ago or more (Honestly, I've blocked the date from my mind - I think it all happened shortly after I met my honey-man though, so that's nearly a year and a 1/2 ago?) the water heater in my apartment decided to EMPTY ITSELF, flooding over two-thirds of my bedroom, part of the front room and the entire patio (no, I'm not saying the patio was a big worry). Although my water heater closet is only accessible from the patio, I was later told that most of the water must have gone through my bedroom wall into my apartment - this assessment was determined by the total gallons of water extracted from inside my apartment. And the explanation for it? "...interior flooding caused by a 'minor slant' in the water heater closet's flooring surface." ~ It was juhhhst so lovely.
First of all, I was home alone and hadn't discovered the state of things until nearly midnight... I remember wondering why the air felt so humid that evening. TANGENT: I'm NOT a lover of humidity. I hate it, no matter how many times everyone tells me it's good for my skin and hair. The presence of humidity has also never helped my neurotic hatred of molds and mildews either. If one doesn't have a dehumidifier in Iowa (my parents did), you could spend an hour toweling yourself dry after a shower and still feel like you hadn't even tried. And the towel you use? It will take more than a day for it to dry out. [end of tangent] Come bedtime, you can only imagine how absolutely befuddled I was to discover over 2 inches of standing water in my bedroom. Was I struck speechless? Not exactly, when I realized my compooter was stuck in the deep end of it all!?! Ohhh my - the obscenities that flew from my mouth!?! I called management's emergency maintenance # and some poor fellow showed up 40 minutes later with his very adorable, very groggy, pink jammy-clad 6 year old daughter in tow. As if that wasn't bad enough, it turned out the only thing he could do at that time was to make sure the water line to the water heater had been turned off, which I had already done before calling.
Regardless, he did tell me that I needed to move all my stuff out of my bedroom and away from the front room wall to make way for the carpet crew to arrive later in the morning, sure to make this point very clear to me, explaining that if I did not do this, the carpet crew wouldn't lift a finger upon their arrival... He then left and I was up well past 3AM moving stuff. NOTE: NO, I had not expected him to stay and help me - I wanted him to leave and take his poor sweetie back home, to her bed!!
My bed and boxframe were relocated to my bathroom, propped up on end, standing against my closet and one of my dressers. In turn, my massive monitor (I so hate it!), compooter, computer desk, sewing table (which doubles as a kitty litter cove, since I don't use it for its intended purpose, obviously), 3 cabinets, and 7 underbed-storage bins, etc. etc. were ALLLL relocated to my front room. I had zero hot water for 4+ days and slept on the bigger of my two couches for nearly two weeks, closely surrounded by all my stuff, stacked high, plus 4 -yes, FOUR- commercial, industrial size carpet fans strategically placed throughout the joint, blasting away on "high," 24/7 with all my windows open and no AC. My electric bill for that month was ABSURD! And the home wreckers? I mean, the carpet crew? They broke frames, scratched up multiple furniture pieces, ruined a rug...and then told me I couldn't prove anything. I can't put into words how bad they were. And my apartment mgmt. was just as bad - told me they couldn't do a thing about the damage to my personal items. 10 days of chaos and I got $100 off my rent - how generous, eh?
Foremost, I was sick with worry for the first 24 hrs, convinced my boys, Otis & Owen, would be forever traumatized by the whole experience... In the end though, I think it was me, who was the more distraught at any point (more like frazzled). In fact, I'm 100% sure that Owen actually enjoyed it all, scaling the mattress in my bathroom on a daily basis, creeping towards and dashing up from behind the fans to sniff them and mark them "mine-mine-mine" with the rubs of his whittle kitty head, and dodging the blasting carpet fan airstreams, as if playing chicken with a Mack truck. It was hysterical and highly entertaining. And Otis? He just slept through the whole experience, I swear. But Me? I couldn't hear myself think over the ever constant, raging noise of those damned carpet fans! It was not unlike living on an airport tarmac, I suppose. I was a zombie for days, totally sleep deprived.
'THIS TIME': The night before last, I walked into my bedroom to retrieve something for my honey-man and since then? I've completely forgotten whatever it was I was going to get him...no recollection, whatsoever! I only know that once I rounded the corner at the end of my bed? oh, indeed, the obscenities -once again- began to fly outta my mouth in rapid fire! Lickety-split, my honey-man ran in to see what was the matter (I love how speedy he can be!), and I stopped my fit of swearing just long enough to lift up my left foot to reveal to him a sopping sock. We then both made a bee-line for my patio, straight away. Sure enough, there was water and while I repeated "NO WAY," over and over again, I opened the water heater closet door to reveal more water as expected, but the water wasn't from my water heater - ??? A puzzled moment was then had, until water dripped from above, behind my shoulder and we saw rivulets of water coating the interior walls of the H20 heater closet. And off we went to visit the upstairs neighbors, who, turns out, had not a clue what was going on and gushed a gazillion apologies before we returned downstairs to my place. And I am soooo grateful that my honey-man was there to 1) keep me relatively calm; 2) offer up his muscles for the moving of many and heavy items; and 3) provide some sweet sanity to our circumstances at hand. NOTE: Had it been MY water heater that had causing the flooding for a 2nd time, I'd have had someone's head and I would have fed it to Owen!
CONTINUATION of my Story, February 2nd: To make a long story not quite so much longer, the upstairs neighbor's suspected water heater was indeed the culprit, and had drained itself into the lower walls of my apartment. Luckily, there wasn't even a third as much water-saturated carpeting to deal with as there had been when it was my water heater at fault, but my bedroom/front wall has swelled and some of the paint is bubbling loose. Worst of all for me (no making fun of me now), there's a mild yet distinctly mold-like smell that has since permeated EVERYTHING in my apartment. BIG DEEP HUGE GROSSED OUT GUTTURAL GROAN. Quickly returning to the comparatively positive aspects of the situation... The carpet fans were reduced to one by comparison to the "first time," so my first two nights weren't sooo bad, but "this time" involves major dry wall replacement efforts, beginning tomorrow. So, I still can't put anything back in its place yet and I may have to continue sleeping on the couch for the next week. And "this time," again by comparison to the "first time," I don't have the kitty-boys here to entertain me or cuddle with me on the couch at night, as they went to LA with their daddy-man, so as to keep them outta the way of the soon-to-be apartment-invading dry wall contractors. *sniff - sniff* All the pictures posted here are from "this time," including the one of the blissful, mattress climbing kitty, Owen.
Instead of four, I'm changin' this to FIVE...
Five jobs you've had in your life: Student Janitor; College Writing Center tutor, BYU Flower Plot Gardener; Disabilities Advisor; Dept. Mahnagere.
Five movies you could watch over and over: When Harry Met Sally; Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind; Moulin Rouge; Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship; Down With Love.
Five places you've lived: Billings, MT; Cedar Rapids, IA; Rexburg, ID; Provo, UT; Las Vegas, NV.
Five TV shows you love to watch: Um, if I ever remember to or if I had cable... Law & Order SVU; um, um, um... anything on The Discovery Channel, anything on Animal Planet; anything on The Learning Channel (TLC), anything on The History Channel.
Five places you've been on vacation: Keystone, CO; Wash D.C.; San Francisco, CA; New York, NY; Honolulu, HI. [Nope, nothing abroad - not yet! Noooo, Montreal doesn't count!]
Five websites you visit daily: MSNBC; Dooce.com; My Kinja Blogroll; the Breast Cancer Site and NPR Streaming Broadcast.
Five of your favorite foods: Grilled Cheese Sandwiches; Onion Rings with Fry Sauce; Thai food; plain Croissants (although Nutella rocks!); Yogurt.
Five places you'd rather be: At home; With my honey-man; With his angel boy-O; which means California; or Fishing!
Five albums you can't live without: "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" by The Beatles; Sarah McLachlan's "Surfacing"; Led Zeppelin's "That Album with the Goofy Symbols for a Title That Has 'Stairway To Heaven' on It"; U2's "Achtung Baby" and some version of Vivaldi's "Four Seasons."
Five magazines you read: Smart Money and Time - I also like Atlantic Monthly, but don't have a subscription... that's it.
Five cars you've owned: Beige 1986 Oldsmobile Delta 88 (lovingly dubbed the "Fudmobile" by my H.S. friends); Red 1995 Toyota Tercel; Charcoal Silver 1990 Honda Civic Hatchback; White 2002 Toyota Echo; White 2003 Toyota Matrix. [Just realized I had completely forgotten about my 2000 White Silver Saturn SL2 - horrible turning radius.]
Five scars you have: Big chicken pox scar smack in the middle of my forehead; 11 stitches on the outer side of my right wrist; my left thumb has a slit-mark scar across its pad; 1 inch-long scratchline above my left knee; a 1/2 inch- long scar on the underside of my chin, to the right side.
Five fears: Losing another person I love; dying young; getting sick; child kidnapping; another divorce. [All very so-serious there, sorry.]
Five lies: What?!? I cannot tell a lie (what a big fat LIE)!
Five reasons to get up in the morning: Must feed the kitty-boys before they begin to gnaw on me; gotta turn off the alarm clock; must go to the bathroom; gotta go to work; last but not least, it's a new day!
Five things you're looking forward to: Finishing my thesis; Graduating; moving to LA; setting up house with my honey-man; having children.
Five people you'd like to meet: Um, this is not a list that would ever exist unless I try to create one right now, but I'll try: Meryl Streep; Kurt Vonnegut; William James; my mother's maternal grandfather; my father's paternal grandfather (granted the last two are dead, but I'd love to meet them).
Five pet peeves: Cleaning sponges of any kind; Dirty, unrinsed dishcloths left sopping in the sink; unhung bath towels left on the floor (notice a neurotic pattern?); people who leave shopping carts in the middle of parking lots; irresponsible pet owners who neglect their animals.
Now who am I gunna tag? Well, it depends on who hasn't already been tagged with this going-around-all-over-the-place meme... Naah, ain't gunna do it. If you like this meme, just do it!
If you like my stuff and use it, be a sweetie and gimme' credit where due - No stealin' k? This site is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 2.5 License