January 30, 2008
January 29, 2008
January 28, 2008
And here are my reasonings:
It's been a not so hot-shot day. For starters, I had an award-worthy dream of terror last night and for enders there are large balls of ice violently hurling themselves from the skies outside my window. For middlers, there are a chain of un-elatefying events, one of which just burnt my cookie.
I must start with an introductory explanation of sorts. When one logs onto his/her homepage at blogger (or "Dashboard" for those up to snuff here), and enters her/his "posting" field, this person is greeted with a plethora of helpful buttons (i.e. text color, text size, bold, center/justified text, picture posting, etc. etc. etc.) to aid in his/her endeavors to keep one's fellow earthmates abreast of current occurrences and thoughts. I recently discovered this significant ditty of information. It's true, I have not been blessed with those little thingies.
So you ask, "Dear Madam, how then have you been able to incorporate such elements of the craft into your blog without the use of said
buttons?" And I say to you dear peasants (which now is interchangeable with pheasants BTW...thanks Abbie), "I have indeed been schooling myself on the language of the HTML folk. I have spent hours (I thought everyone was doing it) gaining knowledge on things such as ">numbers fonts/blah blah /#<" and looking up embeded codes of photos, etc. so as to make the sight of my site more appealing to thine eye. In other words, you oweth me."
Upon discovery of this tragic news I immediately enlisted the help of a number of amigos and their numerous, varied computers to make sure that it wasn't simply a mac/my computer problem. It is not. *sigh* I am just curs-ed.
For all my non-bloggist peeps out there who just may not be able to grasp the pain of my useless hours lost...go cut off one of your fingers and you might start to get the idea.
I guess all that is left to do is just yell, "*&%#@$!!" into the blistery heavens. And then repent for the use of symboliseismic verbage.
January 26, 2008
January 23, 2008
Shannon (the sister): "Kristen, isn't it sad that you don't have any normal baby photos?"
Kristen: "Excuse me, of course I do."
Shannon: "You really don't."
Kristen: "Yes I do."
Shannon: "No I mean normal as in 'ones in which you do not look either
a) possessed and/or b) completely ridiculous.'"
Kristen: "They exist. I will prove it."
(pause for intermission while I scour through endless albums, boxes, folders, scrapbooks for ANY evidence which could salvage whatever childhood dignity I once held...)
Aaaaaaaaaannnnnddd....they in fact do not exist. It's a sad story, and an unamusing one to tell, but an accurate tale nonetheless, and I believe in truth. No matter how ugly. Which is, at the moment, unfortunate because some truths indeed are UG-A-LEE.
Here's what I have uncovered:
"Yeah....I'm not so sure about this whole 'blessing' idea.
(Although I am certain the double chin is back in.)"
"I don't know, dinner ended like an hour ago.
I think they forgot I was still in this chair."
"Who the heck are you?"
Just another possessed one... Sometimes I think it
must take a while to get used to this planet we have been
thrown onto. Just a theory. Based on these eyes.
"Uhhh...you left me here again!
You really need to stop doing that."
I cannot believe my brain used to be in there. I wonder
what I was thinking...probably something along the lines of,
'Hey, a rubber chicken!' But your guess is as good as mine.
If Conan O'Brian gets ahold of this..."Celebrity Babies"
will be taken to a whole new level. It might be the end of me.
"Whoops. Did I eat that?"
"He did say to call, you know!"
"Whhooohoooohoooo. They moooove."
"Ba ha ha ha ha ha!"
I knew I was destined for the drill team.
"Wait, seriously? Wear this?"
And just for good measure, I braved the shame of admitting that I was bald until kindergarten (not my fault folks...it's all about the genetics), and threw in a couple especially for you Nat...
(You'll have to excuse the shape of the photos. You can't blame your parents for artistic endeavors of the 80's.)
"Mom, just 'cause I look like a boy, doesn't mean I like them."
"Um, what do you think you're doing there buddy?
He's touching me."
I know you probably think I've gone overkill on the photos, but believe it or not, this is 5% of what I dug out. And speaking of too many photos...I will officially never post this many in one go ever again. Especially with all that old school SCANNING....waaahehey to long. Good thing I currently have no life.
January 18, 2008
d. Laun....hmmm? Sorry, what's that you say?
.....No, you've heard right, I just can't seem to get these demons out of my house! They are driving me crazy! But luckily I have found Dwaine.....whew!
Upon browsing through the local phone book this morning over a bowl of fruity pebbles (we have limited materials here, and reading during breakfast is a must for me), I came across this ad in the yellow pages:
You think I'm joking here...but no. This is a legitimate scan from section D.
Like I said, thank heaven above I found him. Besides, one never knows when a new cigarette lighter might be needed.
January 17, 2008
January 17, 2008
Science Bldg. Room 147
Biology 1010 (sad, but true)
7:30 a.m. (also sad but true)
Kristen (star pupil) clenches to awakeness with all strength vested in her being. The battle between scholastics and sweet dreams wages on. She fights, but to no avail and the eyelids begin to droop. As her mind carries her to far off Depp-inhabited lands, a comment made, so un-theatrically, by un-named professor reaches in, grabs hold and drags her back to the un-cushioned seat she occupies in previously mentioned dank classroom. Un-heated (so it seems) dank classroom, I may add.
"Class, who can tell me the definition of an element? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?" (Not joking...)
"Elements are those things which can not be broken down by any means."
Elements are those things which CANNOT
BE BROKEN DOWN BY any MEANS.
And WHAM! Just as I begin to take the stage to accept my Oscar, I find myself back in the present.
As I sit in contemplation, my thoughts drift to a common saying. "She is in her element" or "He has found his element." Now hold your pants, I know Bill Nye was thinking more along the lines of Carbon, Oxygen, and the other 92 naturally occurring and 20+ synthetic elements (yes, I am smart, please see periodic table). But God put half my brain on the right side for a reason, and I used it to dig out a deeper meaning. What is my "element?" What is my 'thing' (for lack of a less ambitious term) which cannot be broken down by ANY means? A trait, quality, idea, belief..... Or is an element perhaps something that can keep ME from being broken down by any means?
It's really an open ended question I plan to work on in my free time. And here you thought you would get answers. Silly you. I offer no answers, only opportunities to take a gander in my mind, or simply a peek if you wish. Sometimes I think my life was set up as a giant treasure hunt and the clues (He hides them well) are the Aha! moments that seem to emerge every now and then. Abstract ideas, whether brilliant or otherwise, I tend to find in unexpected places. The prize better be good.
(P.S. for those of you (mom) wondering how I made it to a class, a morning class no less....Shame on you. Occasionally I choose to grace the learning arena with my presence. It happens.)
Oh and p.s. #2...Elements are my favorite cars. Especially the
green and orange ones. Don't they look like they just hopped right out of a Dr. Seuss book? And I bet you didn't know you can hose them out! A-maaaaazing!
January 15, 2008
If my webmd self-diagnosis has not been misled, and I don't believe it has, my jugulodigastric areas have swollen to approximately the size of grapefruits. It seems as if my lymphatic system has officially declared war. Well I have bad news captain...I accept! That's right, I've got an ammo dump (as ryan so poetically put it) of Vick's Vitamin C Drops! Muahahah!...bring it on.
January 1, 2008
What's that? Uuummmm....nnnnnoooooo. We're not adults.
Ladies and Gents, may I present...Chin People:
(Oh, and apologies in advance to any of our amigos out there of British and/or Indian descent, to whom this motion picture may or may not offend.)
p.s. In case you are actually going to watch it...
Take One says: Yadir comes to the Americas
Take Two: Conversations with the beaverstache