tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-242237432024-03-13T16:05:26.130-04:00Cranial SoupPeas, carrots, green beans, and gray matter.Apphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04973805741360160102noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24223743.post-1514989780201919752011-04-01T09:58:00.001-04:002011-04-01T09:58:36.741-04:00The Two Best April Fool's Pranks<p>One I did to someone else, the other was done to me... </p> <p><img style="margin: 0px 10px 0px 0px; display: inline" title="1592692-org" alt="1592692-org" align="left" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_qlCAUZtia6Q/TZXaCiFSDAI/AAAAAAAABSA/KLzSzJKS19s/1592692-org%5B6%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="100" height="133" /> One year, many years ago, the start of Daylight Savings Time began on April 1st. Before going to bed, my husband and I went through the house changing all the clocks. I waited for him to fall asleep and I pushed them all ahead an extra hour. He woke up that Sunday morning and rushed off to work, without ever realizing what I had done till he arrived at work and went to change the big clock on the wall. </p> <p>Now what made this one of the best pranks ever is how for 3 days of every year, whenever Daylight Savings Time begins or ends, and on April 1, my husband goes into a time panic, thinking I am going to prank him like that again. He becomes such a wreck and I just laugh. I never have to prank him again. That one time was good enough to affect him for the rest of his life. </p> <p><img style="margin: 0px 0px 0px 5px; display: inline" title="12967-org" alt="12967-org" align="right" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_qlCAUZtia6Q/TZXaDEIbjCI/AAAAAAAABSE/fzwOXCufvow/12967-org%5B4%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" height="160" /> Now the one that got me wasn't really a prank at all. When I was back in high school, I received a phone call very early in the morning on April 1, from someone that was trying to tell me that school was canceled because of snow. Even though I was half asleep, I was quite aware of the date, and wished her a Happy April Fool's Day before I hung up. I ended up getting ready for school and going downstairs to leave, opening the front door to a vision of about 2 feet of snow. Yeah, the joke was on me, that phone call was for real.</p> Apphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04973805741360160102noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24223743.post-12218967812431028562007-12-13T20:49:00.002-05:002008-08-27T05:38:29.095-04:00Chicken Soup<p><img style="margin: 0px 0px 0px 5px" height="150" alt="Chicken Soup" src="http://lh4.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3Gpk9ifrGI/AAAAAAAAAGw/fxnH1dCM1Jw/ChickenSoup4" width="200" align="right"> I have this horrible cold right now and it's making me feel pretty miserable...like I have been hit by a truck or something.</p> <p>I can't get any decent sleep on account of all the coughing. And I have been coughing so much that my back & stomach muscles ache.</p> <p>I don't feel like doing anything, especially anything that resembles work. So knowing this, my husband decided to be 'nice' to me and find me some work to do. </p> <p>He went out and bought all the ingredients to make a big pot of homemade chicken soup. He's not going to make it...I am.</p> <p>The one key ingredient that makes it chicken soup is missing though. He didn't buy any chicken. This was on purpose. He had this brilliant idea that instead of putting chicken in the chicken soup, I should make it with the handful of shrimp I have in the freezer.</p> <p>Yeah, that's right...in his mind there is no difference between chicken & shrimp and by making it with shrimp, he thinks it's still chicken soup.</p> <p>Now my stomach muscles hurt even more, from laughing.</p>Apphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04973805741360160102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24223743.post-14306640694102393822007-09-07T21:41:00.002-04:002009-09-06T10:09:23.523-04:00Blast from the Past<p>I have been looking for a bunch of old photos that have been lost in my house for about 2 years. I have looked everywhere for them, hoping they weren't lost forever. Most of these were taken when I was a teen.</p> <p>My husband was the one who finally found them, under the bed with his baseball cards, of all places.</p> <p>I decided to scan and share a few with you today.</p> <p></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://appsapps.info/blog/BlastfromthePast_11FA5/Image210.png" target="_blank"><img alt="Image2" src="http://lh3.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3G6PtifrLI/AAAAAAAAAHY/Vi-wTQZpows/Image2%5B10%5D" width="153" height="208" /></a> </p> <p align="center">This is me (age 20), holding my daughter when she was about a month old. </p> <p align="center"></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://appsapps.info/blog/BlastfromthePast_11FA5/Image310.png" target="_blank"><img alt="" src="http://lh4.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3G6R9ifrMI/AAAAAAAAAHg/uDj_oJ31RcU/Image3%5B9%5D" width="208" height="173" /></a> </p> <p align="center">Me (age 16) and LuLu</p> <p align="center"></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://appsapps.info/blog/BlastfromthePast_11FA5/Image43.png" target="_blank"><img alt="" src="http://lh4.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3G6T9ifrNI/AAAAAAAAAHo/NTJV6P6k0R0/Image4%5B7%5D" width="145" height="208" /></a> </p> <p align="center">Me, age 16.</p> <p align="center"></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://appsapps.info/blog/BlastfromthePast_11FA5/Image53.png" target="_blank"><img alt="" src="http://lh5.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3G6WNifrOI/AAAAAAAAAHw/inO8Zv4FG2M/Image5%5B7%5D" width="200" height="161" /></a> </p> <p align="center">Lil, me (age 16), and Tom.</p> <p align="center"></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://appsapps.info/blog/BlastfromthePast_11FA5/Image63.png" target="_blank"><img alt="" src="http://lh3.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3G6YtifrPI/AAAAAAAAAH4/uYm1jAU9-Ro/Image6%5B7%5D" width="200" height="166" /></a> </p> <p align="left">This is me (age 16) and Dianne, on Tom's motorcycle, in Tom's garage. We were supposed to be doing the thumbs like the Fonz, but just as the picture was being taken, Tom moved the back of the bike and scared the crap out of both of us. </p> <p align="center"></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://appsapps.info/blog/BlastfromthePast_11FA5/Image73.png" target="_blank"><img alt="" src="http://lh5.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3G6bNifrQI/AAAAAAAAAIA/kAMbOTJ8LTI/Image7%5B7%5D" width="200" height="162" /></a> </p> <p align="center">In my room, sitting on my bed.</p> <p align="center">from left to right: Liz, LuLu, and Dianne.</p> <p align="center">Me in back. (age 16)</p> <p align="center"></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://appsapps.info/blog/BlastfromthePast_11FA5/Image93.png" target="_blank"><img alt="" src="http://lh6.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3G6ddifrRI/AAAAAAAAAII/FsgiOHYcWNQ/Image9%5B7%5D" width="200" height="149" /></a> </p> <p align="center">Standing in front of my house in all the snow.</p> <p align="center">Age 19</p> <p align="center"></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://appsapps.info/blog/BlastfromthePast_11FA5/Image113.png" target="_blank"><img alt="" src="http://lh3.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3G6ftifrSI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/8vYx-qBeSho/Image11%5B7%5D" width="200" height="146" /></a> </p> <p align="center">Another from same day/location.</p> <p align="left">The illusion of having photographed 'falling snow' is a bit odd, since there was no snow actually falling. Some weird photography mishap that I had no idea about till the photos were developed.</p> <p></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://appsapps.info/blog/BlastfromthePast_11FA5/Image103.png" target="_blank"><img alt="" src="http://lh4.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3G6h9ifrTI/AAAAAAAAAIY/o00n8agvqEc/Image10%5B7%5D" width="150" height="200" /></a> </p> <p align="center">My daughter (age 4) and me (age 24).</p> <p align="center">This was taken at Great Adventure. </p> <p align="center">We are sitting in King Kong's hand.</p> <p align="left"></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://appsapps.info/blog/BlastfromthePast_11FA5/Image123.png" target="_blank"><img alt="" src="http://lh3.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3G6jtifrUI/AAAAAAAAAIg/D6bB8eni-TY/Image12%5B7%5D" width="102" height="200" /></a> </p> <p align="center">Sexy witch</p> <p align="center">Halloween, at Mary's house.</p> <p align="center">Age 16</p> <p align="center"></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://appsapps.info/blog/BlastfromthePast_11FA5/Image133.png" target="_blank"><img alt="" src="http://lh6.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3G6mdifrVI/AAAAAAAAAIo/frV9j6kFlUA/Image13%5B7%5D" width="160" height="200" /></a> </p> <p align="center">My guess would be either age 18 or 19.</p> <p align="center">I am really not sure, but judging from the length of my hair, it was probably 19.</p> <p align="center"></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://appsapps.info/blog/BlastfromthePast_11FA5/Image143.png" target="_blank"><img alt="" src="http://lh5.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3G6pNifrWI/AAAAAAAAAIw/Ofq0i7wpnV4/Image14%5B7%5D" width="200" height="181" /></a> </p> <p align="center">Christmas, at Debbie's house.</p> <p align="center">Age 18</p> <p align="center">Debbie always seemed to give me purses for Christmas, for some reason.</p> <p align="center"></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://appsapps.info/blog/BlastfromthePast_11FA5/Image163.png" target="_blank"><img alt="" src="http://lh6.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3G6rdifrXI/AAAAAAAAAI4/k28pIdNLVXo/Image16%5B7%5D" width="200" height="151" /></a> </p> <p align="center">My 19th birthday, with cake on my nose.</p> <p align="center"></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://appsapps.info/blog/BlastfromthePast_11FA5/Image173.png" target="_blank"><img alt="" src="http://lh3.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3G6ttifrYI/AAAAAAAAAJA/c_J_SCsTd8o/Image17%5B7%5D" width="108" height="200" /></a> </p> <p align="center">Halloween</p> <p align="center">Last minute throw together costume.</p> <p align="center">Age 18</p> <p align="center"></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://appsapps.info/blog/BlastfromthePast_11FA5/Image183.png" target="_blank"><img alt="" src="http://lh6.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3G6wdifrZI/AAAAAAAAAJI/9p0TSsgvvS8/Image18%5B7%5D" width="198" height="200" /></a> </p> <p align="center">Me (age 18) and my husband (age 28).</p> <p align="center">New Year's at Bob & Linda's house.</p> <p align="center"></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://appsapps.info/blog/BlastfromthePast_11FA5/Image193.png" target="_blank"><img alt="" src="http://lh6.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3G6zdifraI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/tkCRQI7k3us/Image19%5B6%5D" width="200" height="199" /></a> </p> <p align="center">Age 18</p> <p align="center">I looked really awful...</p> <p align="center">just finished cooking my first big Thanksgiving dinner.</p> <p align="center"></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://appsapps.info/blog/BlastfromthePast_11FA5/Image223.png" target="_blank"><img alt="" src="http://lh3.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3G61tifrbI/AAAAAAAAAJY/bXDrDfNVQIc/Image22%5B6%5D" width="174" height="200" /></a> </p> <p align="center">The cake I baked for my daughter's 3rd birthday.</p> <p align="center"></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://appsapps.info/blog/BlastfromthePast_11FA5/Image233.png" target="_blank"><img alt="" src="http://lh5.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3G64NifrcI/AAAAAAAAAJg/4NNZruAT0Cg/Image23%5B6%5D" width="132" height="200" /></a> </p> <p align="center">My daughter </p> <p align="center">Age 2</p> <p align="center">Fourth of July</p> <p align="center"></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://appsapps.info/blog/BlastfromthePast_11FA5/Image243.png" target="_blank"><img alt="" src="http://lh4.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3G669ifrdI/AAAAAAAAAJo/n6kwzXKsOV8/Image24%5B6%5D" width="179" height="200" /></a> </p> <p align="center">Christmas at Mary's house.</p> <p align="center">Age 18</p> <p align="center"></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://appsapps.info/blog/BlastfromthePast_11FA5/Image253.png" target="_blank"><img alt="" src="http://lh5.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3G6-NifreI/AAAAAAAAAJw/p40fbVrIbuw/Image25%5B6%5D" width="200" height="199" /></a> </p> <p align="center">Me, at Liz's house.</p> <p align="center">Age 15</p> <p align="center">I just woke up.</p> <div class="blogger-post-footer"> <br /></div> Apphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04973805741360160102noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24223743.post-2671801225240689522007-06-08T13:23:00.001-04:002007-12-26T04:34:46.099-05:00Chinese Chicken Sculptures<p><img style="margin: 0px 15px 0px 0px" height="181" alt="Chinese Chicken Sculpture" src="http://lh6.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3IgNNifr4I/AAAAAAAAAM8/pn9hIptQoBg/chinese-chicken-sculpture%5B4%5D" width="94" align="left">I had this really weird dream...</p> <p>I dreamed I was in Tampa, at a Chinese restaurant. I was supposed to be ordering food for my mother, which would be delivered later on, then I was supposed to go to my aunt's house a few blocks away.</p> <p>Something went wrong and it got weird...</p> <p>The lady in the restaurant told me that the last time my mother called for food and had it delivered, somebody stiffed them for $2.50. So she wanted me to pay for it, and for my mother's current order, and to tell her that from now on she has to come and pick up the food herself.</p> <p>I look in my wallet and all I have is $25...which my mother gave me for something else...and I wasn't supposed to spend it. I handed the lady $5, hoping that later when I saw my mother that she wasn't going to have a fit about it.</p> <p>While they were cooking my mother's food, the Chinese lady gave me some sort of drink for free...something that tasted weird and not so good.</p> <p>There was this guy that worked there that was bored and had nothing to do. Everybody else was busy running around cooking things except him. My daughter starts flirting with him. He tells her that he wants to cook something and not just sit around being bored...asks her if she wants something to eat....for free. Then as she is looking at the menu and making suggestions for some common things, he gets a bit upset and takes the menu away from her. He doesn't want to make something common, he wants to make something special! (he was trying to impress her)</p> <p>So he's looking at the menu trying to find something, then tosses it and grabs some Chinese cookbook and starts flipping pages. Then he gets a big smile and very excited and runs to the back with the book.</p> <p>The Chinese lady tells my daughter, in Engrish, that she is really going to like what he's making, because she can see what he's doing in the back and we can't.</p> <p>Then she asks me why I am not finishing my drink. I am honest with her about not liking it too much. She suggests that maybe I need prune juice in it...then comments how Hollow doesn't need any prune juice, because 'he go everyday, no problem'. (omg! It turns out that Hollow is living with the people in the Chinese restaurant in Tampa!)</p> <p>Then the guy that is making food for my daughter comes to the front with a giant artistic chicken sculpture dipped in wax, sticking up out of something that looks like a fancy metal baby buggy with all kinds of Asian designs all over it, and he pushes it along this track that leads to an oven. It was a genuine work of art. Then he explains to my daughter that it has to go in the oven so the wax can be burned off, leaving just the chicken.</p> <p>Then my mother shows up and wants to know why we were still at the Chinese restaurant and not at my aunt's house yet. </p> <p>I explain the food problem to her and she swears the delivery guy is a liar. She sent someone downstairs with the money, and he would never pocket the money for himself. She gets mad at me for telling her all of this. I told her I had to pay for the food. She hands me $2.50, with an attitude. When I told her I had to pay $5 because I also had to pay what they got stiffed, she gets really nasty, but finally gives me another $2.50.</p> <p>Then she hands me some really cheap cigarettes and I comment that I don't smoke those, that I prefer Djarums. She asks who the hell got me into those. I told her that I thought it was her that did. She says in a very nasty tone of voice that it couldn't have been, because she wouldn't ever buy something expensive like that for me.</p> <p>Then I thought about it really hard.....it was Plastic! He was the one that got me into them. (not in real life though, that was Cailin's fault)</p> <p> </p> <p>...and then I woke up.</p> <p> </p> <p>So...I dreamed about my daughter flirting with a Chinese guy, 2 online friends (one that really lives in Tampa), my mother being a bitch, and a work of edible art that's worthy of photographing. It's all not so weird and really quite normal, when you think about it.</p> Apphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04973805741360160102noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24223743.post-68311921684702240482007-05-23T06:39:00.001-04:002007-12-26T05:02:46.647-05:00Tip of the Day<p><img style="margin: 0px 15px" height="148" alt="my tea mug" src="http://lh3.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3Imxdifr8I/AAAAAAAAANc/VDqexpT-DeM/mug%5B5%5D" width="158" align="right">Replace the burned out bulb in your fridge as soon as possible...or at least turn on the kitchen light when you go in there...otherwise you may end up putting orange juice in your tea instead of milk.</p> Apphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04973805741360160102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24223743.post-62207208299330964922007-01-17T02:38:00.001-05:002007-12-26T06:00:20.430-05:00Starving people with cases of clam chowder<p><img style="margin: 10px 20px 10px 0px" height="160" alt="I now have a case of this stuff that I am not going to eat" src="http://lh3.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3I0QdifsFI/AAAAAAAAAOk/oPJx271tpV0/clam%20chowder%5B4%5D" width="119" align="left">My husband told me a story tonight of this poor starving guy that can't afford to buy himself food.</p> <p>My husband has been taking food to this guy about every other day, for awhile...pizza, sandwiches, dinners, etc...from the restaurant he works in.</p> <p>Tonight my husband brings him a pizza and the guy hands him a case of New England style clam chowder (the white kind)...tells my husband to take it home. Then he says he has tons more cases upstairs.</p> <p>Some woman gave them to him...cases and cases of the stuff, all the same flavor, and he is getting sick of the stuff. So now he's trading the clam chowder for other food, and rewarding those that have been kind to him, like my husband, with a case each.</p> <p>So now I have this case of clam chowder sitting in my kitchen. There is only one problem with it...</p> <p>I gave up eating that kind of stuff because of the fat content in it is too high, and I am the only one in the family that likes the stuff. My daughter prefers the Manhattan style (the red kind).</p> <p>Oh well...guess I know what my next donation to the community food pantry will be now.</p> <p><img style="margin: 0px 0px 5px 20px" height="150" alt="This is the exact radio he brought home" src="http://lh5.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3I0Q9ifsGI/AAAAAAAAAOs/9fQEkD53fV8/radiopen%5B3%5D" width="177" align="right">My husband also brought me home a pen with a radio in it. He let someone pay for 2 slices of pizza by swapping the pizza for the pen. It's brand new, still in its package, with earphones, batteries, and all. It doesn't just look like a pen with a radio in it, it really writes. </p> <p>It's kind of cool, but not something I would use. I'll toss that in the gift drawer for when one of us needs to give someone a gift and can't afford one. I don't know who would want it though, since most people we know can afford and already own ipods.</p> <p></p> <p><em>Humorous Note: Windows Live Writer's spell check dictionary does not contain "ipod".</em></p> Apphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04973805741360160102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24223743.post-1167007527787675732006-12-24T19:45:00.000-05:002007-11-18T06:26:27.248-05:00The perfect gift<img class="floatLeft" title="" alt="" src="http://img222.imageshack.us/img222/4678/boxpf0.jpg" border="0" /><em>“Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for awhile and leave footprints on our hearts, and we are never, ever the same.”<br /><div align="right">--Unknown</div></em><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The perfect gift to give is always the perfect gift for the person you are giving it to. It is a gift that matches the personality and/or the tastes of that person. If you see something that reminds you of someone you know, you are supposed to buy it for them...it commands you to. When you care about someone, you think of them while you are apart and it is easy to shop for them. Things just jump out at you and scream their name.<br /><br />This is why they say it's not the gift, but the thought that counts.<br /><br />When I am out shopping, I often see little things that remind me of people I care about.<br /><br />One online friend in particular...I see things that reminds me of him quite often, but it would be quite expensive to ship to him the things I see, so I don't buy them. It wouldn't make any sense to buy them and not be able to send them to him, so that he could enjoy them.<br /><br />I didn't have much money for Giftmas shopping this year. I only bought one gift this year...for him. I was browsing around online and saw something that screamed his name in so many ways...I had to buy it. I had no choice. (everyone else on my list received things that didn't cost me any money)<br /><br />Unfortunately, ebay didn't feel the same about it and wouldn't allow me to buy it and have it shipped to him. I had to send him the link & the money and have him order it. It kind of took a little of the fun out of it. But he liked it and it made him happy.<br /><br />If there is one thing I love, it's surprises. But every year I don't get very many. Almost every gift I get is something I already know about, expect, and in most cases it is one I have had to pick out myself. I don't understand why people can't shop for me. Does nothing remind them of me? Nothing at all?<br /><br />I am not saying I don't appreciate the gifts I get, because I do...very much...it's just that I really love to be surprised too. It's not as much fun to tear into the wrapping paper on Giftmas Day, when you know what is in the box and in most cases even wrapped it yourself. It takes most of the fun out of it.<br /><br />At least someone got it right this year and surprised the hell out of me in the most wonderful way.<br /><br />A few days ago I received a package in the mail from my online friend that I mentioned earlier, addressed to my daughter.<br /><br />Now I was expecting this package, and even asked him to address it to my daughter, since she loves surprises as much as I do, and he agreed to do this since it was something for her. But when the box arrived it was much heavier than I expected. There was obviously more in it than the 2 books that we had discussed.<br /><br />Since it was supposed to be a Giftmas gift, we would both have to wait to see what he had sent.<br /><br />It is a tradition in my home that we all open one gift each, on Giftmas Eve. My daughter decided it would be the package from my online friend that would be the one. The suspense was killing her. (And it was killing me too.)<br /><br />So what was in the box?<br /><br />4 books...the 2 sushi cookbooks, for my daughter, that I was expecting...and 2 more for me.<br /><br />A book of Farside comics...and a marvelous vintage cat book from the 70's, full of all kinds of stuff about cats...history, legends, poetry, art, information.<br /><br />It reminded me of one I had bought for myself when I was a teenager. One of many thing I lost during the years when I was being shuffled from place to place while I was a victim of the NJ foster care system.<br /><br />He probably thought it was something I would like, but I don't think he knew exactly how much I would like it.<br /><br />But that wasn't all that was in the box...<br /><br />Along with the 2 sushi books for my daughter, he included a starter kit of supplies she would need for making sushi...sushi rice, soy sauce, wasabi, mats, chopsticks, ginger, etc.<br /><br />Each item my daughter removed from the box made her happier & happier...the most excited I have seen her in awhile. She was downright giddy.<br /><br />What made her so happy was how thoughtful the gift was. That someone online that she has never spoken to and doesn't even know her, except through me, gave her a gift that was perfect for her...and it was something she loves. Something her own real life friends wouldn't have bothered to do. They aren't that thoughtful. She now wants to trade her real life friends for my online ones.<br /><br />I think of all the gifts I have received this year, that box was the best gift of all.<br /><br />It was a box of thoughtfulness that gave more than just the objects that were in it. It made my daughter smile...it made her happy...and that in turn made me happy....very happy.<br /><br />My friend has touched my heart through my daughter's smile.<br /><br />For the first time in a long time, the tears I cry are tears of joy. And yes, they really are tears, I am not exaggerating for the sake of being dramatic or something. I am literally weeping.<br /><br />The words I write here can not even come close to explaining how I feel or why.<br /><br />This is a Giftmas I will never forget.<br /><br />Thank you, my friend.Apphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04973805741360160102noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24223743.post-1164361220025517522006-11-24T04:40:00.001-05:002008-06-08T08:41:01.821-04:00Generations of Packrats<p><img style="margin: 0px 10px 0px 0px;" alt="packrat" src="http://lh3.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3I80difsKI/AAAAAAAAAPM/8WUfF17D8OE/packrat5%5B5%5D" align="left" height="136" width="200" />My online friends think I make this shit up about being the ultimate packrat...and it being genetic, or they think I exaggerate a bit.<br /><br />I offer this mother/daughter conversation as proof:</p> <p> </p> <p>April = me<br />Steph = my 20 yr old daughter<br /><br />I think the only reason why she scored higher than me is because I saved all her baby clothes and nobody saved mine for me, and she probably selected the answer about the broken Atari, even though our 2 Atari's are NOT broken.<br /><br /></p> <p> </p><hr /> <p></p> <p><br /><br />Steph (3:42:34 AM): I scored higher than 98% of anyone else who took this one particular quiz... ranking me at "Ultimate Pack Rat"<br />Steph (3:42:41 AM): guess what it was a quiz of<br />April (3:42:56 AM): link me!<br />Steph (3:43:08 AM): <a href="http://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=8195145313689353295">http://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=8195145313689353295</a><br />Steph (3:43:40 AM): tell me your percentage at the top, if you get Ultimate Pack Rat too<br />April (3:50:39 AM): i got the same as you<br />April (3:50:50 AM): could have told ya as much though<br />Steph (3:50:51 AM): what was your percentage?<br />April (3:50:52 AM): lol<br />April (3:50:58 AM): from the bottom?<br />Steph (3:51:01 AM): nope<br />Steph (3:51:03 AM): the top<br />Steph (3:51:13 AM): under where it said Ultimate Pack Rat<br />April (3:51:15 AM): 85%<br />Steph (3:51:20 AM): HaHA!<br />Steph (3:51:22 AM): I beat ya<br />Steph (3:51:25 AM): ...by 5%<br />Steph (3:51:26 AM): lol<br />April (3:51:34 AM): remember something...the atari still works<br />Steph (3:51:40 AM): yah, I know<br />Steph (3:51:59 AM): but if it didn't, I would still freak if you tried to get rid of it<br />April (3:52:20 AM): now why would i do that?<br />Steph (3:52:23 AM): lol<br />April (3:52:31 AM): i still have all the old broken vcr's<br />Steph (3:52:43 AM): "Collected cat hair... yanno, to make a pillow"<br />Steph (3:52:50 AM): I loved that question<br />April (3:52:59 AM): i actually was gonna do that<br />Steph (3:53:03 AM): I know!<br />Steph (3:53:04 AM): lol<br />April (3:53:08 AM): and go into business making dog toys<br />Steph (3:53:20 AM): We're insane, aren't we?<br />April (3:53:26 AM): yup<br />Steph (3:53:38 AM): No wonder there's so much CRAP laying around here<br />April (3:53:51 AM): lol<br />April (3:54:02 AM): it runs in the family<br />Steph (3:54:04 AM): yesh<br />Steph (3:54:19 AM): Pack rat-ness is genetic, mayhaps<br />April (3:54:30 AM): aunt inez and her civil war artifacts<br />Steph (3:54:35 AM): hehe<br />April (3:54:43 AM): and buckets of arrowheads<br />Steph (3:55:00 AM): and your grandmother and her newspapers<br />April (3:55:02 AM): my grandmother and the 'newspaper room'<br />April (3:55:06 AM): lol<br />Steph (3:55:17 AM): Grandpa's junkroom<br />April (3:55:22 AM): lol<br />Steph (3:55:27 AM): and... OUR WHOLE APARTMENT<br />April (3:55:32 AM): lol<br />Steph (3:55:33 AM): we don't have just one room<br />Steph (3:55:37 AM): we have ALL of them<br />April (3:55:55 AM): and the basement...it might be starting to get out of hand down there too<br />Steph (3:56:04 AM): Eep?<br />Steph (3:56:25 AM): At least it's organized and neat-ish down there<br />April (3:56:31 AM): yeah<br />Steph (3:56:35 AM): That's storage<br />Steph (3:56:39 AM): not pack-ratting<br />April (3:56:44 AM): we need to get rid of the encyclopedias<br />Steph (3:56:49 AM): I think there might be a difference<br />Steph (3:57:04 AM): Yeah, wikipedia > Britannica<br />April (3:57:33 AM): that was such a waste of money<br />Steph (3:57:42 AM): yeah >.>;<br />April (3:57:54 AM): but there was no internet when we bought it<br />Steph (3:57:58 AM): true<br />Steph (3:58:08 AM): then again, I don't think we ever used it much anyhow<br />Steph (3:58:09 AM): OH!<br />Steph (3:58:16 AM): the kids version was cool, though<br />April (3:58:23 AM): we will keep that<br />Steph (3:58:26 AM): yesh<br />April (3:58:27 AM): forever<br />Steph (3:58:35 AM): those were my story books as a kid, lol<br />April (3:58:41 AM): i know<br />Steph (3:58:52 AM): wow... no wonder I'm not a moron<br />Steph (3:59:05 AM): encyclopedia = bedtime stories!<br />Steph (3:59:05 AM): lol<br />April (3:59:16 AM): do people think of us as weird when you tell them "my mom read me encyclopedias as bed time stories"?<br />Steph (3:59:35 AM): No one knows about that, lol<br />April (3:59:42 AM): yes they do<br />April (3:59:49 AM): i have told some people<br />Steph (3:59:53 AM): no one I have told<br />Steph (4:00:00 AM): Though, I wanna tell Tom<br />April (4:00:05 AM): lol<br />Steph (4:00:05 AM): he'll appreciate it<br />Steph (4:00:09 AM): and might think it's hot<br />Steph (4:00:11 AM): ^_^;<br />April (4:00:16 AM): lol<br />April (4:12:07 AM): speaking of packratting...<br />Steph (4:12:12 AM): hmm?<br />April (4:12:23 AM): i saved the packratting convo<br />Steph (4:12:28 AM): lol<br />April (4:12:32 AM): we are digital packrats as well<br />Steph (4:12:36 AM): YESH!<br />Steph (4:12:41 AM): verily</p>Apphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04973805741360160102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24223743.post-1163743236448493792006-11-17T01:00:00.000-05:002007-11-18T02:50:30.882-05:00Happy Internet Anniversary to MeNovember 17, 1999...<br /><br />7 years ago today was my first day online.<br /><br />In honor of that life changing event, here is a video documentary about the history of the ARPANET and the birth of the internet.<br /><br />Enjoy!<br />-----<br /><br />Steven King, MIT, 1972<br />Time: 30 min 22 sec<br /><br /><embed id="VideoPlayback" style="WIDTH: 300px; HEIGHT: 244px" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="" hl="en"> </embed><br /><br />Thanks for the anniversary gift, Gothi[c].Apphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04973805741360160102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24223743.post-1157888343542240212006-09-09T19:39:00.000-04:002013-11-17T02:15:23.037-05:00I have Joined the 21st Century!That's right...I am finally living like a normal person...sort of.<br />
<br />
I acquired a nice fast PC back in December 2005...taking the place of my old P1 as my main PC.<br />
<br />
Now I have added to that...DSL!<br />
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OMG...I HAVE DIVIDED BY ZERO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11111<br />
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OK, it's s-l-o-w DSL, but it's a hell of a lot faster than dialup and the fighting in my house over the PC with the dialup connection has ended. Now both my daughter & I can be online at the same time...and talk on the phone too. Not that I like phones any more than I did on Thursday, because I still hate phones of any type.<br />
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Which means I am taking my phone off the hook during the day so the people that would call me most can't get through and still have to leave me a 60 second voicemail.<br />
<br />
So what did I do with my new DSL so far?<br />
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I went to <a href="http://www.neopets.com/" target="_blank">neopets.com</a>, one of the slowest sites I ever used, and loaded flash game after flash game...not to play them, just to watch them load. It was fun to see that progress meter just zip and the game to be loaded. A second or 2 is tons faster than the 10+ minutes it used to take.<br />
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I am hosting my own chatroom now...with WinMX...on primary!! YAY!!!<br />
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Port forwarding...I was feeling like a total n00b idiot on that subject...was getting very frustrated. If this happened to you, you might be frustrated too:<br />
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<div align="center">
<img border="0" src="http://img170.imageshack.us/img170/5201/okcancelyesnoqs7.jpg" title="" /></div>
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If you click <span style="color: #ff8080;"><b>NO</b></span>, it does dynamic...if you click <span style="color: #ff8080;"><b>YES</b></span>, it does nothing at all!<br />
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Seems like a candidate for <a href="http://thedailywtf.com/" target="_blank">The Daily WTF</a> to me.<br />
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But I am loving DSL...really loving it!<br />
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But I have to go clean my house now, before it dies from neglect...then I can come back and abuse my DSL some more...maybe download some HUGE files today. :-)Apphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04973805741360160102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24223743.post-1151216374214835152006-06-25T02:19:00.000-04:002007-12-26T08:14:35.833-05:00What's in a name?A lot more than you think!<br><br>After reading an article on <a href="http://lifehacker.com/software/facebook/clean-up-your-digital-indiscretions-183003.php" target="_blank">Lifehacker</a>, I decided to do a Google search for my full name. There seems to be many that share this name with me, tons of results, and not all of them good.<br><br>Then one result stood out from the rest. It was what seemed to be a copy of my brother's obituary.<br><br>I was curious, so I <a href="http://www.thecosmicgift.com/2006/04/my_friend.html" target="_blank">clicked the link</a>.<br><br>What I found was a blog post made by a friend of his that had lost touch with him over the years and had just learned of his death, recently.<br><br>I was touched by his post. I was touched by my father's words. I felt as if I had been given back a part of something precious that was taken from me long ago.<br><br>I lost my brother long before he died. Unfortunate circumstances and not exactly being accepted by my mother as part of the family, made me a stranger to him. I didn't know where he lived, I didn't have a phone number, nor was my mother ever going to share that with me or share my contact info with him.<br><br>My brother was one of my favorite people in all this world. He always was. He had a profound effect on my life in many ways. I looked up to him. I wanted to be just like him.<br><br>I wish my daughter could have met him. I wish I had more to give her of him than just my memories. I wish they could have gotten to know each other. I know she would have loved her Uncle Steve as much as I did.<br><br>I don't have much to remind me of him. A bracelet he made for me when I was 9 years old, a goofy plastic Dracula ear ring I found in his desk drawer when I went to Florida for his funeral, a few very old pictures from when I was about 3 years old, a small clay pot I made in school for him when I was 14....and his ashes (but that's not how I want to remember him)<br><br>Finding this blog post was almost like finding him...or at least a part of what he was. The author of the post doesn't know how much of a gift that was...yet. As soon as I can pull myself together enough and think about what I want to say, I am going to email him and let him know how much I appreciated his words.<br><br> <div align="center"><img height="173" alt="me (age 3) and Steve (age 7), hugging" src="http://lh5.google.com/omgplzstfukthx/R3JTu9ifsRI/AAAAAAAAAQE/Bv5cKbXYnXI/image2b%5B4%5D" width="173"> </div> Apphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04973805741360160102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24223743.post-1145700944225599572006-04-20T06:15:00.001-04:002011-02-16T22:01:12.734-05:00Dreams can and do come trueI officially became a 'professional' programmer! A professional gets paid for what they do...doesn't matter if they know what they are doing, or if they can do it well, or how much they get paid...they are still technically a professional if they get paid for it.<br />
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Over on <a href="http://www.donationcoder.com" target="_blank">donationcoder.com</a> there is a <a href="http://www.donationcoder.com/forum/index.php?board=31.0" target="_blank">coding snacks forum</a> where people submit requests for small utility applications that would take an hour or less to create. I spotted one that would be a quick request to fill...all I would have to do is add a few lines of code to an existing application I had already written. It was for a stopwatch that would either stay always on top, or min to tray, that could be controlled with a global hotkey. I had already made one that stayed on top and could be minimized to the tray...just needed to add the hotkey to it and the request would be filled.<br />
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I didn't do it for money...didn't expect to get any either. But when I announced that the request was filled and posted a download link, about 5 minutes later I got an email from mouser, the guy that runs the site. He put $0.50 in my micropayments account in appreciation of my work! The next day, someone else I don't even know added another $0.10!<br />
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I know this isn't much...and most people would laugh at an amount so small, but it meant a lot to me. Another $0.40 and I will have made my first dollar as a programmer. And this wasn't because people HAD to pay me...it was because they WANTED to. I think that makes it even more special to me.<br />
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I will frame that first $1 when I get it and treasure it forever...it means that much to me. It's a personal goal accomplished...a dream fulfilled.<br />
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---<br />
<em><span style="font-size:85%;">Follow up: April 27, 2006:</span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-size:85%;">I recieved another 100 credits today, so now I have gone past the $1 mark :-D</span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-size:85%;">---</span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-size:85%;">Follow up: Friday, June 2, 2006:</span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-size:85%;">When I originally made this post, and the previous follow up, I thought the scale for donation credits was same as US currency and that 100 credits was $1...turns out I was very wong. 10 credits = $1...so it wasn't $0.50 that mouser gave me, but $5.00! And that $0.10 I thought I got the next day was really $1...and the additional 100 credits was $10! WOW!</span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-size:85%;">---</span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-size:85%;">Follow up: Saturday, September 9, 2006:</span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-size:85%;">I have recieved my first dollar, signed by mouser. It is now in a frame, hanging above my desk. :-D</span></em>Apphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04973805741360160102noreply@blogger.com0