Giraffes and Corny Jokes

India, have your way with me.

2012-01-23T22:01:00.000-08:00

God bless Amurrrrica and its little dose of milk&honey that is the Hindi section of Netflix's website. Oh how I do enjoy my little diversion that is the Bollywood film industry. Even dramas are peppy with their random musical scenes that take place in the Swiss Alps. Who doesn't enjoy a little dance & song action? Maybe it's my love of the random & silly, or the fact that I was raised watching musicals, so having a big burly bear of a man burst into a solo number declaring his love for the heroine doesn't faze me.

I can't say that my roommates are quite as excited about my filling our queu with Hindi & Punjabi films, but man that Aamir & Imran Khan are some entertaining actors. Even Hrithik Roshan's melodramatic bursting into tears is endearing in its own way. If you're looking for something a little less Bollywood & a little more Hollywood, I would suggest the movie "Luck" or "Delhi Belly" or if you like a long historical fiction with beautiful people (eye candy) I would suggest "Jodhaa Akbar". But before venturing fully into the Indian film industry, to prevent complete shell shock, watch "Bride & Prejudice" this was my first dabble with Bollywood back in 2006 & since then I've been hooked. And here's a little clip. Please for you to enjoy:

Joke, and I don't mean to offend, but it struck me as funny:
What do you call two Latinos playing basketball?...Juan on Juan.

New Jobs, Same Loves

2012-01-04T00:26:00.000-08:00

Been working two part time jobs and then babysitting every moment in-between. Almost forgot about this whole thing of silly writings of nothingness & vertically-endowed mammals. But look at some great things I've stumbled upon in my absence:

found here: http://www.etsy.com/listing/70609549/the-pianist-print

Oh man! Music & leaf-munching Gerry? Too good. If I had a kid, this would go in his room.

And this one pretty much sums up what I'd look like as a giraffe: big eyes, stumpy legs, and a long neck:

found at this delightful site that has everything from a giraffe menorah to living proof that Gerry was at Christ's birth: http://www.bluebison.net/content/?category_name=giraffes

And if I were this woman I would just bawl with excitement:

found thru Pinterest.com from this lady: http://awelltraveledwoman.tumblr.com/

I can't imagine having a giraffe just waltz up to my front door, but it would be, in the wise words of Barney Stintzen: "LEGEN....wait for it....DARY!"

Then of course there's this:

found also on Pinterest.com

I don't know about you, but nothing says B.A. quite like a giraffe tattoo made cliche by the words written inside it. But whatever, it's a Gerry, so it's legit in my book.

So, I've concluded this evening's episode of Gerry the Giraffe Propaganda and say hello again to you from yet another new year.

Here's a good one:
Where do you get virgin wool from?
Ugly sheep.

7/11 Chicken tenders + El Corazon = Seattle Music Scene

2011-08-06T00:09:00.001-07:00

Tonight turned into one of those random opportunities for me to do the trendy Seattle thang: listen to unknown bands play their music in a dive bar. It started out humorous as my friend D and I were the oldest in the room (minus the parents of some of the bands) and were surrounded by the teeny-bopper invasion of Bieber tweekers. But we were there to support a friend, or rather a friend of a friend, and we were not about to let squealing 16yr olds stop us from doing just that.

The line up of bands allowed my snarky and extremely biting sarcasm to take full reign over my mouth. D and I suffered through two or three teen-hormone-crazed groups (honestly they all blur together, so I can't remember the exact number) before we were finally able to listen to our friend/friend of a friend's band play. These first bands consisted of the trendy hipster wrapped in a package of cliche, and were so typical that it made it impossible to look past the fact that they were just another Dashboard Confessional; full of typical teenage angst that makes you want to slit your wrists just looking at them. I couldn't help but quietly mock them with dear old D; with ever hair flick, and bang tug I found it more and more difficult to hold in my laughter. Finally I just gave up and allowed my mirth to spill out. What a trite existence some of these young bangs, I mean bands, have. None of these teens will make it out of the El Corazon, but if they are content with their opportunities to play at local dives, then I can only applaud their efforts to achieve dreams & wait for the next band to come.

Luckily it was worth the wait. Our acquaintance played the drums and was actually standing in for the original drummer who had to drop out of the tour last minute. After only three days of listening to the songs on his mp3 player, he effortlessly commanded the stage and the audience's attention. Out of the handful of bands we watched tonight, he was the best. And the most at ease. He grooved with the music with a seasoned comfort, and was able to relax in the beat and just drum. Plus the lead singer/guitarist looked exactly like Starsky from Starsky & Hutch, so they ultimately owned the cool factor in my book.

It was different getting to watch a duo of just drums & guitar/vocals. I must admit that even though I have gone to many band gigs, this is the first time I have ever seen just a drum and guitar act. I liked it. So much so that I shelled out the $8 bucks to buy their CD. I never buy CD's....well, almost never. But this band was worth it. The band's name is Bird By Bird, you should probably check them out at [this site] and potentially buy some downloads (please no stealing, they put their money into the making of these songs & all proceeds go to their gas tank while on tour...okay, I'll get off my soap box now) But don't you agree?....them's some sweet tunes.

Minus the copious amounts of sweat that the singer managed to fling from his brow while playing on stage, this was a great act. Granted our friend/friend of a friend was the stand-in drummer, but after listening to the CD, I'm guessing that the original duet is just as fun to experience as tonight's collaboration was.

Anyway, after a long week, and a delicious Wailua beer, it's time for the joke & then off to bed.

What do you get when you cross an elephant with a fish?...Swimming trunks.

Another one of those image filled posts

2011-07-21T22:47:00.000-07:00

I am obsessed with bow ties. My gospel choir director used to wear them on days when he was feeling particularly swanky. My favorite childhood news forecaster, Dave Salesky, would grace his weather-izing neck every so often with one of these eye-catching accessories. And hello, everyone's favorite person, dear Mr. Orville--that sweet old man that invented extra buttery popcorn--was a bow toter.

image from shelikespurple.com

Another thing that fascinated me as a child growing up watching old films: tents on the beach. Strictly for changing in. That was the weirdest, yet coolest convenience I could think of. Well, unless you counted a berry picker. (No, seriously think about it. A machine that picks tiny berries off of bushes without tearing up the whole plant??? Genius.) Anyhow, back to the tent thing. Not only did I find it odd that people had their designated tent in which they would shed the corset, petty coats, spats, suspenders, and other such cumbersome wardrobe necessities, but they would also fill up half the laying parts of the beach with the darn things. Like so:

taken from spunkinator

Look at all that prime frisbee throwing, sunbathing, sand-castle-building-worthy property covered by changing rooms. (Though I must admit that with all the colors & the way this picture depicts them, they look pretty neat-o.)

What else gets my heart a-thumpin', you may ask?...Ugly, yet adorable dogs. Case in point: a basset hound's face while running:

Please partake of this wonderful outlet of laughter, there are many more, just as tear-inducing as this one @ best week ever. I almost peed from laughter. Oh, Mortimer...what a mug.

Second dog example: The English Bulldog & Boston Terrier

(Not sure where this image is from.)

Oh sweet mercy, I love these smooshed-faced, so adorable-they-can't-breathe, poochinis. Someday. Someday I'll have one of each. The terrier shall be named Back Yard (said with a Bostonian accent) & the delightfully beefy bulldog shall be named Taft.

And last on today's list: Children with lisps. I'm not just talking tongue getting in the way lisp. I'm also referring to when a child whistles a little while talking. These children are like little gold nuggets found in the mines of life. I especially get excited when these particular children get caught swearing. I don't think I could ever stop my child from letting out expletives if there was a sweet little speech impediment thrown into the mix. I mean how funny is "Thun of a Bith"? EXTREMELY. Thus leading to the downfall of my parenting skills.

But anyway. It's sunny, I just gots me some delish produce, and Imma gunna makes me some avocado milkshakes. No that wasn't today's joke. But this is: What kind of rooms have no walls? Mushrooms! (anyone else instantly hear Pippin from LOTR's voice? No? Well, that's awkward....)

Working my way towards those 27 dresses

2011-07-19T22:15:00.000-07:00

Three weeks ago I finally saw the hard work and planning of the past 9 months come to fruition; I helped get my high school best down the aisle toward her main squeeze. B&D got married in a beautiful park in Central Oregon on 06.30.11. And I am so glad to have it done.

This wasn't the first wedding I'd been a part of, but it was my first time gracing the shoes of MOH. Believe you me, I am not cut out for such organization. I break out in a rash just thinking about it. Two bridal showers (both in Oregon), two dress shopping weekends, also in Oregon (only one weekend did we actually go out to look for said dress), and then the Bachelorette party. In, you guessed it, Oregon. Picking your best procrastinator as your Number One (any trekies? no?...I am ashamed.) was maybe a bad decision. But then again, I am a people pleaser, so maybe it was the perfect decision. But I am surprised that this wedding had fully clothed bridesmaids, because being in charge of dresses, shoes, & making headbands was quite the undertaking (those freaking yellow shoes from hell). But then add party planning on top of that & you have one SOL MOH. Pardon my French.

Let me explain why. Once I had to plan an educational party as an RA for a floor of freshman girls. I made a cake & cocktails--minus the alcohol, hung some shawls from the ceiling to make it look like a harem, and then taught the girls how to give themselves a back massage with a tennis ball...looking back the lack of alcohol might have been a poor choice. Why am I telling you this? So you will see just how ridiculously bad I am at planning things. And how poorly I decorated junior year of college.

But somehow things came together without many hiccups. And always in my last-minute-fly-by-the-seat-of-pants fashion. I know, I astonish even myself.

Then the day finally arrived. We started off with alcohol, and then LITERALLY a full six hours of hair, makeup, snack nibbling, and me driving across town to get things from the groom for the bride and visa versa. Needless to say it was a little bit of a shee-show going into it, and more of a production than was expected, but we all survived relatively unscathed, and only a little wine was spilled--but plenty of bottles were shattered.

But the reason for the KH movie reference is kind of a running joke between my married friends and I. I literally am making my way slowly toward that unholy number of bridesmaids dresses, minus the fugly factor. I've been in five weddings now (one for every year since graduating high school) & have just been asked to be in another friend's wedding next March. But rather than horde like our dear old Kathy H's character, I think it's time for me to take these old dresses to consignment and get some mulah back. Who knew being in someone else's wedding could be so expensive? But since they've all ended up being an excuse for girlfriend reunions, who can begrudge them?

Anywho, as the running joke in my house, it is now time for me to supply you with yet another joke...What do you call a cow with a twitch? Beef jerky.

Tribute to Mothers

2011-05-24T17:46:00.001-07:00

Yes it is well past Mother's Day. Does this stop me from posting an entry dedicated to my mutter? Nein. So without further ado, I dedicate this poem by Frances Johansan to the woman who made it thru six children, 8 children's surgeries (5 of which were mine), 24 wisdom teeth, four sets of braces, and only three bedrooms. thanks mom.

You painted no Madonnas

on chapel walls in Rome

But with a touch divine

you lived one in your home

You wrote no lofty poems

that critics counted art

But with a nobler vision

you lived them in your heart

You carved no shapeless marble

into some high soul design

But with a finer sculpture

you shaped this soul of mine

You built no great cathedrals

that centuries applaud

But with a grace exquisite

your life cathedraled God

Had I the gift of Raphael

or that of Michelangelo

Oh, what a rare Madonna

my mother's life would show

-Tribute to Mothers, Frances Johansan

I really love this poem, mostly because of the art references used to describe the greatness of good mothers, but also because I can most easily relate to it. So happy [two weeks belated] mother's day.

You have now entered the jokes section of the blog. enjoy.

a dyslexic man walks into a bra....ah, it's good to be back at the corny jokes again.

Waltz of a Father

2011-03-06T17:18:00.000-08:00

My office sends out weekly poems on Fridays (along with doughnuts) to make the last day of the work week seem a little less monotonous. This is one that I particularly enjoyed & decided to share.

My Papa's Waltz

The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But I hung on like death:
Such waltzing was not easy.

We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother's countenance
Could not unfrown itself.

The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
At every step you missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.

You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt,
Then waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.

Theodore Roethke

I don't know what it is about this poem (especially since it's a boy, rather than a girl, talking about his father), but I loved the simplistic descriptions of a normal parent/child interaction. While reading it I am transported to childhood, when I myself used to dance with my father. With one poem Roethke explains the many aspects of parenting: the father misses steps every now & then, yet the boy is not abandoned. He leads his son. The rough, battered hand gives gentle encouragement, yet doesn't fail to instruct.

Anywho, after three months of silence I really needed to see something new come out of my keyboard...& this was what stuck with me the most.

On to the joke:

What did the zero say to the eight.......................................................nice belt. :)

To Hobby or Not?

2010-12-20T01:00:00.000-08:00

It's midnight thirty. I sit upon my extremely soft mattress, wearing grandma EO's old sweatshirt with all of her first generation grand kids' names (I've come to realize that all of her things I requested to keep seem to be the ugliest, most grandmotherly items she possessed...& I love it!) Anywho, I find myself neither tired nor in want of sleep. In fact, at the same moment I started to get an inkling of a yawn I for some reason made myself a cup of chai tea & popped in the classic Around the World in 80 Days. Then I remembered that it was three hours long & made short order of changing my film choice to something with a more respectable length. And all of this brings us here. To a page of blundering babbles in the wee small hours of the morning.

I have come to the conclusion that I need a hobby. Not a knitting sweaters while listening to Tennyson on tape kind of hobby. No, after three evenings at home without the roommates, & an entire season of Psych later, it's quite clear that the last hobby I need is something that keeps me at home. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I've become a homebody--though this weekend was much more pathetic than normal. It's so much easier to stay home & veg after a long week rather than get all duded up & take myself out on the town. Perhaps the main draw back is the fact that going out tends to bring along its friends Nickel & Dime. And after my first month of school loan payments (which are twice as much as my rent)...it looses some of its attraction.

But then I remember a site my friend went to that has a bunch of hobby/common interest activity groups that meet in Seattle. A couple months ago we met up with one group that wanted to play kickball. It turned out to be pretty entertaining. For one thing, they picked one of the only parks I know of that doesn't have any lights & they brought a green rubber ball & second, there was much beer consumed by my counterparts (I'd already been to happy hour & decided that my lack of coordination after dark didn't need any more assistance in knocking me flat on my posterior. It was lots of fun but sadly I can't find the web page, so I have to get creative while googling.

Since I seek a new hobby that included others of the human variety, I've decided to look at what are some of the most popular hobbies people find themselves engaged in. I am saddened by the results...Google, you've sent my sex back to 1812. Really? The first item on the list is shopping? Followed by event planning & figure skating which, according to this site, is different than ice skating. Have fear, these are only the outside activities. The indoor hobbies for women are much more exhilarating. What with making gift baskets, painting, & visiting beauty salons, what more can a woman need? I didn't realize I had to be a desperate housewife of Seattle in order to enjoy hobbies. Don't get me wrong, I really do enjoy finger painting with one of the little girls I watch, but how does going and getting your hair 'did' gain the title of hobby? Oh well, I have moved on to a different list of activities that doesn't require me to marry Bill Gates' grandfather................

After scanning website after website I have reached three conclusions: 1) if you seek out activity groups you're more than likely single, and even more likely a single woman rather than a single male, 2) if you are single, you are in need of a drink, 3) if neither of these apply to you, you must join the extreme biking groups that require you to love making your rump tender & your knees cry (because let's face it, your lungs are too tired to perform the simple act). Don't get me wrong, I love going outside & I actually do enjoy bike rides, but I'm also terrified of careening down one of the several hills that Seattle is so well known for, & therefore have not ridden a bike since Freshman year. Thus making me far too out of shape and--to be honest--lazy to attempt even the thought of joining one of these activities groups that consider a warm up as a slow 40mph jaunt over 20 miles of God's creation. If I could form a cycling troupe this is how it would look: vintage Schwinns, sunshine, tree lined lanes through fields & beautifully, nature-sculpted, FLAT earth. But since these are mostly nonexistent in Seattle, I guess I'll just have to stick with night kickball, beer, and the almost invisible green rubber ball.

CORNY BOMB:

What do you call a cow that won't give milk? A milk dud!

I'm leavin' on a jet plane

2010-11-03T21:32:00.001-07:00

As the oh-so-wise Samuel L. Jackson once said (actually he stated it several times throughout the movie Jurassic Park) "Hold on to your butts." ‘Cause this particular someone is hopping onto a little thing we like to call an airplane. Before you start wondering why I am making such a big deal about this I must first inform you that I've only been on a plane twice. The first time was in 5th grade with my family—we took up an entire row—the second time was my sophomore year of college. I flew with my entire Gospel choir. We took up the whole plane. This time? I’m flying so.

I just foresee this catastrophic scenario: I disembark in Las Vegas. While lost & utterly confused I get picked up by some particularly unsavory characters (why is it whenever I use that phrase I feel like a cannibal?) who end up dragging me away from the safety of the airport, into a slightly grayed white van, down the Vegas strip where I spend the rest of my innocence doing the Vegas-strip. And from there the only natural segue my brain can make is to begin the ever exhausting task of creating my stage alter-ego. My "pole persona", as it were. So in preparation for this outrageously unlikely predicament, I have decided upon the name...Velvet Hammer. Stop. Think about it. Let it ruminate. Now continue reading.

As you can tell, I have quite the avid imagination for adventures that seem to begin with an average, everyday event that inevitably ends with me in a ridiculously unlikely situation, with an equally ridiculous name. Meh (said in a very Barbra Streisand/Yentl fashion), we all have our quirks.

Now for today's joke: Why did Beethoven get rid of his chickens?...because they kept saying Bach, Bach, Bach!

This particular joke didn't actually make me laugh when I read it. It wasn't until I started making the clucking sound of chickens in my head that I started to laugh...oh sweet insanity.

4's company

2010-10-30T21:29:00.000-07:00

Life in the carpool lane. Is it faster because of those you share it with, or is it overcrowded with the traveling troupe? Who knows, as of right now I'm enjoying my house and those with whom I share it. I enjoy quality time with others at least one night a week, but like most people I know, I do occasionally require the respite of company that is my bedroom. Both options have been a guarantee with my household, so I'd say I've got it pretty much made.

The oddity of my situation isn't the fact that I have three roommates, that's actually expected these days of a recent college grad. Where the uncomfortable looks and awkward smiles enter the conversation are when I tell people that two of those dear old roommates are married. I manage to ease some of the discomfort when I explain that J&Z have the bottom floor, minus the washer/dryer, and A & myself share the top floor of our three floor townhouse. Yet they still manage to question the sanity of my living sitch. Maybe I am crazy, but at the same time, I think it's forced us all to approach relationships, whether platonic or passionate, with more rationale & maturity. I've learned to live with someone that prior to sharing a bathroom, I had only met her once, and I've discovered that sharing with a married couple has allowed me to fine-tune my skills as a conversation-topic-changer. I also get to enjoy some of things I missed during my four years of college at a extremely female dominate campus; the male logic being one of the favorites (i.e. watching Psych instead of Grey's Anatomy, FOOTBALL, eating a third helping just 'cause it tastes soo good).

But I also enjoy the fact that Z is not like a typical college guy. He CLEANS & ORGANIZES. In fact all three of my roommates are pretty boss in that department. No we don't have the cleanest apartment, nor do we always eat the leftovers in the refrigerator, but my kitchen is for the most part clean & dishes don't sit in the sink for DAYS...preeeetty much s'wonderful (any Cole Porter fans out there?).

So yeah, is it kinda hectic and a little bit of a learning curve? Sure. Of Course! But I look at it as a great year of learning new things like: personal boundaries, mostly my needs for my bubble, how to live with a guy other than my father/brother and be comfortable with that, & how to take a five min shower at six in the morning. That last part required ten inches of hair to be chopped in order to succeed, but I got it done.

Sure, life in the carpool lane is fast, and it's given me an excuse to live a dorm-esque life for one more year, but why live alone when you could have three completely different roommates with three completely different personalities? Welcome to the circus a.k.a. 4's company.

Maybe not corny...but such a great blonde moment:

A guy took his blonde girlfriend to her first football game. They had great seats right behind their team's bench. After the game, he asked her how she liked the experience.

"Oh, I really liked it," she replied, "especially the tight pants and all the big muscles, but I just couldn't understand why they were killing each other over 25 cents."

Dumbfounded, her date asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well, they flipped a coin. One team got it, and then for the rest of the game, all they kept screaming was, 'Get the quarter back! Get the quarter back!' I'm like, Hello-o-o? It's only 25 cents!"

tin-foil airplanes are better...hello shiny!!!

2010-10-21T22:40:00.000-07:00

Why hello MUST see site! While feeling adventuresome during a particularly successful web-browsing session, I decided to see what I would find if I entered the words 'trendy' & 'giraffe' into my search engine, and voila! An entire section of a website that is all giraffe themed merchandise! Need I say more? No, I didn't think so.

Oh the things one does in order to kill time. Normally I would be heading to bed soon (dear Lord, 9:30 bedtime?...when did I get so OLD?) but tonight I am meeting a friend for some random hangout time & greasy, cheesy, meaty nachos from Matador (so good, make your tongue slap your brain right out o' your head!...uh, or so I've heard)...and since graduation I haven't made a habit of eating that cardiac arrest, especially so late at night, but for friends I can make an exception. Now that I've sufficiently digressed from topic, I arrive at my point: that I had some time to kill before meeting up with my friend, so I decided to search key phrases/random combination of words in order to while away the hours. And that dear friends is how I came across that ridiculously wonderful giraffe-merchandise website. Another word combo that made for some enjoyment was 'laughing owl' just look at this one & this one! Prrrretty high up there on the cute factor. And in case you were wondering what the meaning of life was...so simple, yet so true.

Alrighty, that's about it for tonight, so I thought I'd end with a corny joke I found during my search-capades:

If you think loading up the dishwasher means getting your wife drunk....you might be a redneck. **insert cheesy grin here**

jambalaya journey

2010-10-18T22:43:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, while making one of the four required trips to the grocery store for my delicious jambalaya recipe--yes it was my first time making it, yes it was delectable--I couldn't help but enjoy the crispness of the Sunday morning air. To me it was perfect. Granted the morning didn't begin as joyful & perky as those previous sentences might have lead you to believe, but once outside, things started lookin' up. First a brief rundown of my weekend:

Every so often I get these random June Cleaver (may she rest in peace) urges to just bake or cook or something, and this weekend just so happened to be one of those times. So Saturday I baked a delicious cake from scratch along with a simple homemade frosting. It was a relaxed day, all I had done was go grocery shopping for the ingredients (why are dried seasonings so flipping expensive?!?) with J after we walked to McD's for our daily dose of Diet Coke/chat, then that night A & J were chaperoning at the Chief Sealth Homecoming dance, so Z & I had the house to ourselves. I quickly mixed all the ingredients in the newlyweds's brand new, never been used before Kitchenaide (I think I prefer my mom's antique to this one), placed the batter in the oven and while it cooked Z popped open some beers (I made a second trip to the store for powdered sugar) and we watched 'Spy Game'...Robert Redford, what a fox. It wasn't the best movie, but it was good enough to entertain while waiting for the cake to finish; which, even though I was worried & it was my first time making it, I think it turned out rather well....maybe I should let good ole June take over my body more often. All in all the day was a success in my post-college book....I must be getting old when baking and staying up past ten is a thrilling night.

Then came Sunday. Hmmm, that sentence looks more daunting than it should. Anyway, I woke up and wasn't too sure if I would make it to church or not. I wanted to get the jambalaya in the crock pot (aka man's greatest invention after diet coke & bonfires) since it had to cook for 6hrs, but in the midst of chopping and dicing and basically being boss at kitchen duty, I discovered that the sausage J said we had was ground sausage....so trip numero tres to the grocery store. I pulled on some spandex leggings & my over sized Silverton Football sweatshirt and walked my keester out the front door and down the street to QFC, which stands for Quadrupled Food Costs, bought some overpriced Cajun sausage (spicy, but oh-so-good), and proceeded to walk back home.

As I walked back I decided to enjoy some of the crisp, pure Autumn in the NW surroundings. There was still a low fog which blocked most of the sun, but there were few clouds in the sky, so you could see the sunshine slice through the fog and give glimpses of light. At that moment the verse about making a joyful noise came to mind. It had been a while since I really just took in God's creation or anything about my surroundings for that matter. But yesterday, walking by myself, up before any of the roommates, I took notice and suddenly that third trip to the store wasn't so bad.

When I got home I decided that I really wanted to go to church & since I had gotten things done more quickly than I had anticipated, it looked like that would work. I compiled all my ingredients, slid them into the cooker (seriously, God's gift to the family cook) and did a quick glance at the recipe....forgot the can of diced tomatoes....and grocery store trip number four. But not until after church.

It was a great talk directed at modern Christians. Something I found interesting and enjoyed about Rev. Paul's sermon was this: there are three callings of the church: spirituality, community, and ecology. That last part meaning we are stewards of God's creation and as receivers of his gift, we are the most responsible for taking care of it. I was pleased that the occurrences from earlier in my morning had been followed in theme by Rev. Paul. But I haven't told you my favorite part about yesterday. Not only did the sermon quote the verse that had come to mind while on my walk, but one of my favorite songs about creation was sung by the choir, John Rutter's For the Beauty of the Earth. I instantly cracked a grin.

After church I headed to Safeway, bought some diced oven roasted tomatoes, tossed them in the cooker, fussed for the remaining three hours, then sat down with J, Z, & one of Z's young life boys and enjoyed a delicious meal of jambalaya followed by cake. In the end it was worth all the trips and I got to enjoy someone else (meaning Z) doing the dishes. It was a simple, but perfect weekend.

Well, after such a long hiatus from writing, I guess I had to start somewhere. I didn't realize until yesterday when I attempted to just write for the day, how burned out college made me in regards to writing. I look forward to when it no longer feels burdensome again.

corny joke for the day comes from Laffy Taffy: why'd the cactus cross the road?...'cause it was stuck to the chicken. Duh! Oh how I love candy wrapper logic. =)

2 Italians, and a Czech walk into a bar...no, this is not a joke

2010-04-24T20:12:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday had an unexpected turn of events: 7pm leave apartment for Hula practice (Hawai'i Club has a lu'au coming up next month and we have about six dances we need to memorize before then...should be interesting) but for some reason our group wasn't put on the security list, so campus security couldn't let us into the building to practice. Rather than stress about it, we all decided to part our separate ways to do "our own thang" which meant that the two people over 21 (Avery and I) and one of my roommates decided to walk down to the Nickerson Street Saloon for a late dinner. Anyway, long story short my girlfriends and I were treated to an evening (full evening, meaning 7pm-1am) of hilarious frivolity with middle aged Europeans who randomly invited us to join them at their table.

Now on to the rest of my week, which was heavily burdened with homework because of the lack of investment during the weekend, like every weekend:

Perhaps it was the immersion into European 'extrovertism' last weekend, or the intense few weeks of German classes this quarter, but most likely it's both that have reinvigorated my inner Travelocity gnome.

Now a bombardment of images:

Indian Culture and its amazing wonder of color

Turkey home of the Ottoman Empire...so much wonderful history

GREECE! The birthplace of logic and formal education

Hagia Sophia (though it may look like a Mosque, this is one of the first steps toward the Medieval cathedrals of Europe)

and Cologne, Germany's Dome Cathedral: Did you know it was bombed twice during WWII and both times the bomb didn't go off--seems like a place that deserves some recognition. This is the place that I especially have been motivated to see because of Dr. Ziemann's German influence.

**Sigh** Maybe. Someday. Probably should make a career choice before even thinking about traveling. Ah Graduation, knew you'd rear your head of anxiety in here somewhere.

On that note:

"A professor is someone
who talks in someone else's sleep."
W.H.Auden
(1907 - 1973)

Random...

2010-02-23T22:56:00.000-08:00

First random thought of the evening: what sound does a Giraffe make? Can anyone tell me? (other than the sound of chomping on leaves and branches.) P.S. just found out that a Giraffe has a 20in tongue and it will use it to clean it's ears--slightly less adorable fact about my favorite animal.

Now on to other randomness. I have a sudden urge to become a street musician. Just go out on the weekends and sing with a group of friends, laugh, and have fun. Would I be less stage frighted? fraughted? Ah...frightened. That's the word I'm looking for. Anyway, would I be less frightened and nervous of performing because there wouldn't be one specific audience, watching me intently. Rather the audience would forever be changing and not staying for more than a moment. Hmmm, this is something I should think about further, let it ruminate a little; steep in my mind, maybe.

Third and final thought for the evening: I am uber lazy when it comes to homework, but I love learning. How does that work?

Corn-dog moment: Laughed so hard at this, while I was in a public place!

Did you hear about the dyslexic Satanist?
He sold his soul to Santa

Lent, not borrow

2010-02-17T12:01:00.000-08:00

I did not come from a tradition of faith that puts emphasis on Lent, in fact I didn't completely understand the point of this 40 day season of taking away the goodies that one so enjoys in everyday life until coming to college. And even then I did not really ponder what the Church--notice the capital 'C', I'm not talking about the building, or even the Pope or Bishops of orthodox faith, I'm talking about the brothers and sisters in Christ that call one another to surrender in remembrance of Christ's desert journey--really required of me.

I appreciate the idea of surrendering something in order to gain a glimpse into the kinds of struggles Jesus faced as he wandered the desert, denying the pompous tempting of Satan, while being painfully aware of the weaknesses tied to his humanity. But this Lenten season is more than simply giving up your daily soy-no-water-free-pour-chai latte, or secretly giving up chocolate in order to loose a couple of pounds before Easter (that one is probably missing the point of giving something up). This season is also a willingness to enter the desert, to isolate one's self in the Lord and fully rely on him. And upon thinking about that idea of leaning on the Solid Rock, I started to wonder about the meaning of lent the word.

Lent: past tense of lend, meaning to give the assistance or support of. How does this alter our understanding of the purpose of Lent? Perhaps it's even less about what it means for us to understand what Christ endured in the desert. Maybe, just maybe this glorified season has nothing to do with us--what WE can endure, what WE can abstain from, what kind of will power WE have. Perhaps it is nothing to do with us. Rather Lent is meant to remind us that we are supported. We are given assistance everyday from God, but for some reason we require a 40 day fast to remind us of that fact. It's not until we realize that we are limited that we understand our complete need for that assistance, which is the real meaning behind Lent.

So for this Lenten season I challenge you (as well as myself) to not just cut out that favorite food, or dependent caffeine, or time spent on the internet. If you do that at all. More importantly, focus on what is required of you by God when he offers you that support, and why you are receiving it.

May the Peace of the Lord be with you.

A little religious humor:

The biggest drawback to fasting for seven days is that it makes one weak....now that was a groaner.

Bring an umbrella, it's raining:

2010-02-16T19:22:00.000-08:00

Unfortunately I do not have the necessary time to continue Jeff's little story this evening. I am going to be a good little girl and do some homework tonight. (keeping fingers crossed) Anywho, tonight is simply going to be a little look at the random things that I've adored these past 21yrs of my life. Let us begin with a dream. This dream was to own a vintage women's Schwinn bicycle--mud-flap, basket, horn and all. One similar to these two:

I really like the orangeyness of this one; so shiney, so sunny.

However, this one is quite pleasant to the eye, holds the necessary basket, and is a favorite color of mine.

Another, slightly less dependable, more expensive, and insurance-requiring form of transportation I have always wanted since a little girl is a vintage VW Beetle with a rag top. These two are the colors I would choose from.

This one is pretty kickin'

and according to the man who took this image: VW's are sexy, so there you go, reason number two for owning such a sweet piece of machinery...I think I like this one the best.

And of course how could I forget the animals that I've always cherished:

On Land, obviously the Giraffe

Isn't he just the cutest thing?!?! I think his name is Rufus Maximilian

And here's Sea: the Great and Powerful Humpback Whale!

Soo cool how they can get that much fat that far out of the water...amazing!

And finally Air: the Sparrow--no I'm not talking about the crude, more-than-slightly-inebriated pirate who walks like he's still on a ship in the middle of a storm. No, I'm talking about the feisty little buggers that fly around the fields. I like 'em.

Plus they've always been a great reminder that there's a plan for everything. All three of these animals are ones that I wish I could have owned or, if that were not possible, that I could at least touch and/or feed. Oh so exciting.

So anyway, this is a completely different track for me to go on one of these entries, but I thought, "why not!?!" So I did. Which brings us here. To the end of yet another blogger's entry and that means for this particular blogger that it is time for our daily dose of hilarity and, perhaps yet another groan moment of bad jokes. Nonetheless, enjoy and good night.

Slight-groan-inducing joke:

What do you call a dinosaur with only one eye?...

A do-you-think-he-saurus.

Ahahahaaa!!! That was a good one, I definitely laughed out loud on that one. Good form he who made up the idea of corny jokes, you have left me an extremely happy soul tonight. =)

Jeff the Giraffe: a not-quite-child's tale

2010-02-09T23:34:00.000-08:00

Upon not wanting to study up on my Marriage and the Family sociology homework, I thought maybe I could learn through the eyes of the children of the families I'm studying. And what better way to do such a thing other than through a children's story? There isn't, so I shan't attempt to learn any other way tonight than through my own child-like imagination (and not so secret love of the tallest living mammal on land). Therefore let us, dear reader, embark on a journey, but not just any journey. Now remember you and I are not only journeying into the world of an imaginative tale of courage, adventure, and most importantly silliness galore. No, no, no, no, no. Far from it! We are not-so-literally transforming ourselves back to when we were just beginning to create our own far-off lands of danger, intrigue, and fame! Needless to say dear reader, this entry will go down in blog history as the entry that (while written to the greatest hits of Journey) effectively took the writer, meaning me, away from homework for an entire evening. And if that isn't adventure enough for you!... then you probably lead a far more exciting life than this college senior. =) Very well. Shall we? Yes, I think we shall.

Jeff the Giraffe: a child's tale

Our story begins with Wayne and Garth (for you young'uns who don't know who I am talking about: the two guys from Wayne's World) standing before us doing their flashback hands dance saying: "doodle-oo,doodle-oo, doodle-oo". And through their well placed comedic timing, you and I are sent back in time...well, not necessarily in time, but transferred to a different place where Giraffes actually live. But I digress, let us continue on with the tale.

So Wayne and Garth have just done their little swirly-twirly jig and we now find ourselves "right in the middle of the Sahara!"---think crocodile hunter accent. But then we turn around and realize that really we're just in the local zoo's African exhibit, and nowhere near the actual continent, but whatever, we are child-like adventurers, seeking our own delights through our own cerebral cortexes. No fenced in mini-Sahara will deter us.

We are on a mission. Our objective? Find the local zoo's African exhibit's mobster, known by the locals as 'Señor King del Jungle'. Upon finding said local zoo's African exhibit's mobster, infiltrate Señor Jungle's crew, locate and extract Agent G (a.k.a. Jeff), and bring him back through Wayne and Garth's crazy swirling vortex...

But alas...it is almost one a.m. so, dear reader, this is what we call a cliff hanger. Not because anyone is hanging by their fingernails, desperately hoping for someone to save him, no, this is a cliff hanger because I, dear writer, am feeling the effects of a weekend of no sleep and actually have no more energy tonight to continue in our escapade of Señor King del Jungle and his ever-so-brave captive Agent G a.k.a. Jeff. Will we, the imaginators, discover the true identity of this Mr. Señor? Will Agent G as in GRRREAT! be safely returned to headquarters? Have I completely lost it and fallen off my rocker?--To that last one, probably, to the other questions, tune in next time for the continuing journey back into childhood in, Jeff the Giraffe: a not-quite-child's tale.

Oh, I almost forgot and nearly left you without your daily dose of corny medicine. Well shame on me for my neglect. Here you are my fellow children-reversed-imaginators.

Q: How do you know when there is an elephant under your bed?
A: Your nose touches the ceiling.

Not only corny, but random as well...ah me, that was fun.

an army of one...be all that you can be...strong, army strong.

2010-01-02T23:26:00.000-08:00

So the sister shipped off to Basic last week. All the way in OK, she's going to spend 7months away from her husband, two daughters (3yrs and 1yr olds), and the rest of our family. This isn't much different than when my oldest sister entered the Navy back in '96, except for the fact that Karen didn't have any kids yet and I was too young to really have that much of a grasp on what it meant to not see her everyday, let alone every year. She was also in a branch of the military that doesn't usually have its men and women on the front lines. So Steph's situation just seems different. One of her biggest fears is that her youngest, Nicole, will not remember her when she returns from training.

This gives me a new appreciation for the sacrifices that the members of our military make every day. It's more than just placing one's self in danger, or being shipped off to a foreign country away from family; where all things appear socially and culturally backwards from their own. They also have to let go of children during crucial times of development and formation. With the very real possibility that those children won't know who they are once they return from their duty.

I couldn't do that. I'm not made of the stuff that our military men and women are, which gives them the courage to step away in order to protect all that they love, people like my sisters. I love them more for that sacrifice and I wish to say thank you to them and all that commit themselves to this life of service.

Corny Joke:

One of my husband's duties as a novice drill instructor at Fort Jackson, S.C., was to escort new recruits to the mess hall. After everyone had made it through the chow line, he sat them down and told them, "There are three rules in this mess hall: Shut up! Eat up! Get up!"

Checking to see that he had everyone's attention, he asked, "What is the first rule?" Much to the amusement of the other instructors, 60 privates yelled in unison, "Shut up, Drill Sergeant!"

Curl into the Fetal Position Baby; You're an Adult.

2009-06-23T22:53:00.000-07:00

Many firsts:

First apartment

First summer in Seattle

First office job

First retail job

First time without home...slightly daunting, but completely exciting.

I started working at Old Navy last week, and today was my first day working with UW as an office assistant...I like it. This summer will be a change for me and I might have a break down here or there, but I am finally content in my decision to stay here this summer and await to see what else God has in store, He has blessed me so thoroughly and completely that I can't even describe my excitement, and my relief. Life is "most excellent" these days and I am smiling inside and out.

So word on the apartment:

We are slowly getting things situated, Lane and I just need to get rid of some things, get clothes in the right places, and then start on the decorating phase. French bulldog, giraffe, jellyfish, octopus, owls...is it an apartment or an animal kingdom? I don't know, but I like! I can tell this is going to be good. =)

Corny Joke: I laughed hard at this one.

A woman walks into a shop that sells expensive Persian Rugs.
Looking around, she spots the perfect rug, walks over and inspects it.
As she bends to feel the texture of the rug she farts loudly.
Very embarrassed she looks around nervously to see if anyone has noticed her 'little accident' and hopes a sales person does not pop up right now.
As she turns back, there standing next to her is a salesman. "Good day Ma'am, how may we help you today?"
Very uncomfortably she asks, "How much does this rug cost?"
He answers, "Lady if you farted just touching it, you're gonna crap your pants when you hear what the price is."

Hungry Like The Wolf

2009-05-19T21:45:00.000-07:00

Oh Duran Duran, how you do make me smile. Funny, I am on the prowl, on the hunt for a job, and yes, I am hungry like the wolf.

This song reminds me of "It Happened One Night" and Clark Gable singing, "who's afraid of the big bad wolf, tra la la la la. Which then in turn reminds me of "Little red riding hood, you sure are lookin' good. You're everything a big, bad wolf could want...OHWWWWW!!!"

Oh the random musings of my mind...now U2 is on with "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Lookin' For" But what is my burning desire Bono? I'm not sure I know what it is I'm searching for, unless we're talking literal, then I guess yeah, I still haven't found the job that is going to supply me with my first two rent checks...oh boy. I am stressed with money. Can't we go back to bartering? That would be nice. Oh well, God provides and I must stay reliant and hopeful for what He has planned, whatever it may be.

Life is good when I remember not to take it into my own hands, and on that note I leave you with this little Russian delite: VITAS, youtube him and you will understand, better yet, go to his website and just look at his pictures...ridiculous and yet so amazing. Just what you need for a pick me up.

Today's joke:

What's black and white, black and white, black and white, black and white?

A nun falling down the stairs. =D

Shuffle It Up

2009-03-04T00:04:00.000-08:00

Blank. Empty. Void. Vacant. Hollow.

Listlessly I lounge, laptop at hand. Typing out terrific tales of absurd alliterations. After watching Disney's Robin Hood at half staff last night, I just couldn't resist. Disney was a genius poet and authority of the English language. Clever, witting, and just plain hilarious.

Just a taste of the stupendously snarky words of Disney:

Silly serpent; Reluctant reptile; Suspicious snake; Scurrilous scoundrel...so good, the last is one of my favorites. Oh to be the scintillating pen behind that script.

Life is grand when we remember to enjoy the simple things. To take a break from worrying about tomorrow and the crises of our lives, sit back, bask in the company of friends, watch a fave movie from childhood, and simply be. Life is golden when we remember what laughter brings to us, not only in health, but in our relationships as well.

Be random, put your music on shuffle and discover what you've been missing by remaining in the same humdrum schedule this quarter. So far I've discovered how little of my library I actually listen to, and the sudden change has made studying quite relaxing. If only there were a shuffle button for our lives. One that when we push it, it randomizes our day and causes us to take a new and different look at what we do with ourselves...what if the wee hours of the day, when I get all my work done, were in the middle of the day, and the unproductive hours were when I was sleeping? Would I remain unproductive? What if Friday was my Monday, would I still hate Monday? Isn't it funny how the order of our lives changes our perspective and our attitudes?

Anyway, now I'm ranting, so I think it's time to go to bed...oh, I just discovered that I have the real slim shady by eminem on my computer...wow. =)

Joke: What do you call a fish missing an eye? FSHHH! =D

Sunshine on the Sack

2009-02-19T16:01:00.000-08:00

Skipping class to see old friends, this is good. Having the professor walk past you while skipping said class...hilarious. Such was my afternoon.

As I sit typing the sun streams in through the window and on to my face. Delightful. Stupendous. Splendiferous. I can feel the vitamin D doing its work. Today was a good day. People laying out on blankets enjoying a picnic. Walk to the SUB to do some homework, run into friends kicking around a hackie sack, it's time to join in.

I may suck, and my feet might protest later, but that's later, and this is joy. Joy in the package of a rice filled bag smaller than my fist, and sunshine on my face. Skipping class was so worth this reprieve from deadlines and lectures, if only it could happen everyday, but sadly, I still have three more quarters before I'm done. Oh well...let's have a joke.

what's the last thing to go through a fly's mind when it hits a windshield?

IT'S BUTT!!! tehe =)

Musical Musings

2009-02-16T01:57:00.000-08:00

"He's an on time God, yes he is. Job said, 'He may not come when you want him, but he'll be there right on time.' He's an on time God, yes he is!"

"Now's the time to celebrate--all banners raised! I got the Victory, the Victory. The devil is defeated and God be praised! I got the Victory, the Victory!"

"Wait on him! Wait on him!"

"Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling. Calling for you and for me. Ye who are wearing come home! Earnestly, tenderly Jesus is calling. Calling: Oh Sinner, come home."

"Day by day and with each passing moment, strength I find to meet my trials here; trusting in my Father's wise bestowment, I 've no cause for worry or for fear...Help me then in ev'ry tribulation so to trust thy promises, O Lord, that I lose not faith's sweet consolation offered me within Thy Holy Word."

These songs are comforting reminders to me when I become overwhelmed, slash a kick in the pants to remind me that I'm not the one who's in charge. Hymns and choral music almost always seem to have the best words for one's spirit. If you are not one who enjoys traditional music of the church, I ask that you reconsider and actually read the words to these "old and stuffy dirges". If you give them a chance, the poetic flow just might speak to what you are experiencing and need help in. Google 'hymns' and you will find some great resources for reading/listening to hymns of the church, even some contemporary ones. May the words fill you with peace.

corny joke:

An Englishman, an Irishman, and a Scotsman walk into a bar and all order a pint. The Englishman finds a fly in his pint. He quickly turns his nose up and demands a fresh beer from the bar. The Irishman too finds his pint containing a fly. Unlike the Englishman, he simply scoops out the fly and continues to drink his beer. The Scotsman, finding a fly in his glass, grabs the fly its wings and starts shaking it over his glass shouting: "SPIT IT OUT! SPIT IT OUT!!!"

hehe...say the last part with a scottish accent, it's the only way to tell the story. *sigh* that was a good one. =)

The Beginning of Something Grand

2009-02-11T10:33:00.000-08:00

Here's to fun before the end:

1) Learn to play the guitar

2) Go to Boulder, CO for a long walk

3) Drive my dad around in a S.S. Camero

4) Start a band of talented youth

5) Sing Karaoke

6) Get my dad's music published

7) Feed/touch a Giraffe

8) Overcome one of my fears

9) Learn to Harlem Shake

10) Sleep in a hammock on a beach for a week

11) Make a photo journal of a trip with friends

12) Write a children's story/get it published

13) Be completely vulnerable to my friends

14) Hug someone each day for a year

15) Go to a Michael Buble & Journey concert/meet Steve Perry

16) Go lake-hopping across the U.S.

17) Open a restaurant, cafe, or bar with friends

18) Learn to repair my car

19) Go to the museums/galleries and see first hand all these artworks I've studied about in class, but never seen in person.

20) Go pub-hopping through Europe; discover who makes the best beer.

Corny Joke of the day:

A blind man walks into a bar with his seeing-eye dog. He sits down at the bar for a few seconds. Suddenly he picks up his dog by the tail and starts swinging him around his head like a helicopter! The Bartender shouts: "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!" The blind man gives the bartender a small grin and says: "Just lookin' around."

This one is a fave from high school. So, good.

Laugh Away the Winter Blues

2009-02-10T17:13:00.000-08:00

Long day long. Grab the pager and hop into the SUV, SPU ratio is at it's finest: three girls sit back as the blind man drives to Chipotle. What a great adventure! "UW people need to look both ways!" and "bicyclists are vehicles too!"... some of us are over zealous in pointing this fact out, oh well. People talk loud in public, and Chipotle babies are conceived.

Return to campus, leave an hour later. Defrost leaves small window in which to see... don't hit anything. "Call da Po-po ho!" We have arrived. Five to a couch, let's pack 'em in tight. Hip to hip, cheek to cheek, and sometimes butt to face. FACE!!! Fish face, old lady face, funny face pictures. Baby's face equals adorable and laughter ensues.

The best laughter begins in the eyes. A twinkle that transforms the entire face: eyes crinkle, lips slowly pull away from the teeth, and the mouth opens wide. It begins in the stomach: muscles clench, lungs expand, and the chest quakes. Next, the throat rumbles. The sound starts as a quiet chuckle, building with intensity as the lungs pass air across the chords; strumming a simplistic song of joy. This song releases the tension of the long day, and replaces it with happy satisfaction. As the song crescendos tears stream down the face without ceasing. As it comes to the end a sigh of contentment rings out on the last note... life is good, when we remember to laugh away the winter blues.

corny joke alert:

Times fun when you're having flies. =)

I've Decided

2009-02-08T14:20:00.000-08:00

I've decided that writing is a passion that I don't give enough precedence in my life... Thus the beginnings of this blog.

Life has gone on a walk and neglected to take me along. I applied for a student leadership position, turned around and discovered that my life had run ahead, leaving me in the dust. I have many experiences from this past year that have "shaped" my life, yet I feel like the unfinished sculpture in the back of the studio, neglected and unprepared for what I am to face.

Perhaps what I was supposed to learn wasn't what I expected. I don't feel prepared for LIFE and the epic journey that lays ahead of me after college, and I have no clue what I want. But this lack of experiential molding has caused me to do some sculpting of my own.

Where I expected outside forces to do the changing, God caused me to do the work. I've learned more about myself as an individual than I ever thought possible:

I internalize way too much, not only my emotions, but others as well. I don't handle anger well: if I'm mad I internalize until a later time, then word vomit my frustrations to a friend, and when others are angry, I withdraw from them (though I have something to say) for fear of angering them further. I have an external patience that is high because I internalize during the situation, then purge later, but am internally impatient. I have become more insecure by being outgoing this year, yet I can still have an ego... how does that one work?

On a happy note: I am coming into my own. I'm more of an individual than ever before, I don't just rely on what others tell me, I'm starting to think for myself. I'm learning more about faith everyday, and though it scares me, I'm willing, which wasn't the case in the past.

But the best thing: Though I'm changing and "growing up", my humor has remained. Humor that finds the simple things hilarious, the stupid entertaining, tears enjoyable, and laughter a must throughout life. A humor that, though quirky, and not always understood, is the epitome of who I am. And with that revelation I end with this joke, don't worry if you don't find it funny, rest assured I laughed until I cried. =)

Q. What do you call a deer with no eyes?

A. No eye-deer.

Q. What do you call a deer with no eyes and no legs?

A. Still no-eye deer.