Sunday, November 19, 2006

Twenty hours and counting
Sometime around 4:00 am tomorrow, I'll be leaving for Toronto. I am driving an hour to join a tour bus that will drive another hour to pick up more people, then head off on the 10-hour trip to Toronto. That doesn't include any stops. Gee, I hope it's only 10 hours. I've booked a 6:30 pm dinner cruise for Thursday night that cost me $79 CN and that I sure don't want to miss. The fellowship on the bus, both up and back, should be one of the best features of the whole trip. I only recognize two of the 60 or so names. I'll probably recognize some additional faces, but most of them will be new friends to make.

I've barely started getting ready. I can't find the registration packet I received from GSO months ago. I spent about ½ hour on Monday night looking for it, with no luck. So today, after I get home from work, I've got to find it, figure out what to take and get packed. Then I want to go to bed as early as I possibly can so I don't fall asleep on the 1-hour drive to the bus. Sometime during the day today, I've got to find time to make two phone calls. One to GSO to find out how much trouble it will be if I can't find my registration packet. The other to call the DCM who offered to let me sleep on his couch tonight so I'd only have a 15-minute drive in the morning and thank him but say I've decided to sleep at home tonight.

I do plan to take my laptop computer and two cameras (one digital and one non-digital SLR). Hopefully I'll have plenty to report. I sort of doubt I'll have time or want to take the time to post while I'm there. But I might. Otherwise I'll be posting after I return late Monday.

It's gonna be great! Until then... sayonara!

Sunday, September 10, 2006

The Military Wife

The good Lord was creating a model for military
wives and was into his sixth day of overtime when
an angel appeared. She said, "Lord, you seem to be
having a lot of trouble with this one. What's wrong
with the standard model?"
The Lord replied. "Have you seen the specs on this
order. She has to be completely independent,
possess the qualities of both father and mother,
be a perfect hostess to four or forty with an
hour's notice, run on black coffee, handle every
emergency imaginable without a manual, be willing
to move to a new location ten times in seventeen
years. And, oh yes, she must have six pairs of hands!"

The angel shook her head, "six pairs of hands? No way."

The lord continued, "Don't worry, I will make other
military wives to help her. And I will give her an
unusually strong heart so it can swell with pride
in her husband's achievements, sustain the pain of
seperations, beat soundly when it is overworked and tired,
and be large enough to say, "I understand"
when she doesn't and say "I love you", reguardless."

"Lord," said the angel, touching his arm gently.
"Go to bed and get some rest. You can finish this

"I can't stop now," said the Lord,"I am so close to
creating something unique. Already this model heals
herself when she is sick, can put up six unexpected
guests for the weekend, wave goodbye to her husband
from a pier, a runway or a depot, and understand
why it's important the he leave."

The angel circled the model of the military wife,
looked at it closely and sighed,
"It looks fine, but it's too soft."

"She might look soft," replied the Lord.
"But she has the strength of a lion.
You would not believe what she can endure"

Finally the angel bent over and ran a finger across
the cheek of the Lord's creation.
"There's a leak," she announced.
"Something is wrong with the construction.
I am not surprised that it has cracked.
You are trying to put too much into this model."

The lord appeared offended at the angel's lack
of confidence. "What you see is not a leak,"He said
"It's a tear."

"A tear?" What is it there for?" asked the angel.

The Lord replied, "It's for joy, sadness, pain,
disappointment, loneliness, pride, and a dedication
to all the values that she and her husband hold dear."

"You are a genius!" exclaimed the angel.

The lord looked puzzled and replied,
"I didn't put it there."

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Cuckoo its me
Cuckoo my small wolf, expensive reader, tor...

Thank you for agreeing to have patience and sorry for the last WE, have time.

A small image to brighten my article. I found pretty, tristounette, décallée it, a little like my life in this moment.
They are terrible these schedules, not time nothing to make, that passes to all berzingue, I have the impression of louper not badly of things.

I hope not to have make a boob by taking a job more twisted than that which I had front.
Good, will say more when I am installed (for the moment I "squatte" the office of the person that I will replace, therefore not transport for the moment)

To go, one will not let oneself cut down, hein...?

I found a super bond, know if you know...? I found too funny. And if it were true...

It acts of the site "World Jump Day"

thinks what, you...?

And hand nan, a tite joke. I find it mimi... Without a bit of polemic...


It seems to to me that it is not complicated!

To make a woman happy, it is enough for you all bonnement to be a friend, companion, lover, brother, father, Master, teacher, cook, carpenter, plumber, mechanic, decorator, designer, sexologist, gynecologue/obstetrician, psychologist, psychiatrist, therapeutist, daring, organizing, good father, very clean, sympathetic nerve, athletic, soft, attentive, gallant, intelligent, funny, creative, tender, extremely, understanding, tolerant, careful, ambitious, able, courageous, given, reliable, respectful, impassioned...

Without forgetting to often make compliments, to adore shopping, not to make stories, very rich, be stressed, not to look at the other girls...

And at the same time, it is also necessary to pay great attention to it, without being jealous, getting along well with its family, but all while always granting to him as many time for it, to give him space, while being concerned where it goes...

It is very important never not to forget the birthdays, engagement, marriages...

Good courage.
But, unfortunately, even by observing these rules scrupulously, its happiness is not guaranteed.
It could feel submerged by a life of one choking perfection, and flee with the first "bastard-alcoholic-runner" of underskirts which it meets.

And to close this polemic, to add a final key, here how to make a man happy:

1. To kiss
2. He foutre peace!
It is nice not....?

Oilâ. I leave you. With the nearest WE, p' têt'... Biz...

Thursday, March 30, 2006

That's about how much enthusiasm is going into this post. I feel like I have been gone from my blog too long. To avoid neglecting my readers, I suppose I should post an update on the happenings of my life.


Last Wednesday I gave my job notice of my departure. They said that Friday would be my last day, but in a surprise move, sent me home Thursday at noon. Dave, the sweetie that he is, came home with me in protest (we had carpooled and I had my car). But at least I'm out of there, and everyone else will soon follow suit.

I start my new job at Monotype Composition on Monday, which I mentioned in my last entry. I'm hoping it will go well. Wish me luck :-)

But this weekend is the exciting part. As those of you in blogland know, it is homecoming weekend at Seton Hill. I shall be making an effort to see everyone I can; though my weekend is filling up fast. I probably won't blog until I get back though, as apartment hunting is my new hobby. Ciao.

Friday, March 17, 2006

Peace, tranquility, and a bunch of crap.
So my vacation was absolutely lovely. Log cabin, fireplace, hammock, hot tub, walks in the park... what's not to love? Well, the hot tub, for one. That was dreadful. It was like 30 degrees outside, so the hot tub should have been cozy relief from the cold. Instead, it was a sweltering horror. After turning down the temperature, to no avail, we had to get out of it. Other than that, it was a really relaxing vacation. In case anyone is looking for anywhere nice to go, check out Deep Creek, Maryland. It's a ski resort in the winter if you like that sort of thing (which I don't).

A fun quote from the weekend: "I'm a sweet gherkin, and they're like nuclear missiles." No, it does not have any inappropriate context, so don't ask.

And now for the bunch of crap: I gave my two week notice here so that I can begin a new job on the 25th, and I was told that while that's nice and all, I could pack up my belongings on Friday and be on my way. So I will have a week off (without pay, of course) to start looking for an apartment or whatever. Definite bunch of crap. But at least I escaped. Hooray for me!

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

Things I've come to realize:

1. I don't like Biology
2. French is kick ass, and I love Mrs. Kellum. I don't care what anyone else says.
3. I hate weekends now. They drag on and on. Not only that, but I stay at home all the time, and I'm hating my home.
4. History this year isn't grabbing me as much as it did last year. Mr. Grogg is cool, but American history is boring for me. I like World History, however we get to watch the Woodstock Documentary this year, so thats cool.
5. My room is a mess, and I've gained wieght.

Hahaha...I only care about the first part of that last one.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

I'm quite pissed about drama. Yet I'm also very optimistic. Problems are that some people in my drama group are bitching and whinning because they got understudy or a small role when their seniors. glad that you even have a drama club to preform in. Your taking everything for granted. Just because you've been in drama for 6 years doesn't mean you know everything, and just because your a Senior doesn't mean you should have the lead part. There are people who have been in drama for all four years of their High School career who have not had any main parts, and yet people who have been in drama for 2 years are saying they deserve a main role because they are Seniors. whats wrong with people?

I just wish people would get off their fucking high horse and except things for what they are with grace. Your going to bring everyone else down if you keep this shit up. I doubt anyone from our school is reading this, except for Steven. Steven I request that you quote from this entry to anyone who is bitching about their job/role in this play. They need to grow up.