tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68058258394625069772024-02-19T01:30:53.638-08:00Cat Cuddlin' & Cookbook Collectin'Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17304496248077729950noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805825839462506977.post-70042702613959433972011-05-21T21:49:00.000-07:002011-05-21T21:50:58.986-07:00Remember that one phase?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Well. Another semester of grad school has come to an end. Another 4.0 GPA in the books (bam!). I no longer have to call myself a "first year." I can start to plan all the fun hazing activities for the grad students next year. (Ok. That was a [bad] joke. I would never haze. Well, maybe a scavenger hunt here and there, but never ever spanking or chugging.)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, about that first year. Well, I have interviewed more "senior citizens" than I ever thought I would (so far only three, but more to come). And I even got asked out to the bars by one of them (Yes, please and thank you!). I also started a Twitter account. And I had never known pressure until I started to think about what my Twitter name should be. I went against "catitudetracy." Talk about regret. I have also been going to the gym a lot recently in preparation for the summer. I know that most people would start the summer routine in, I don't know, </span><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">before summer gets here</span></u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">. But, I did not. So now is the time to play catch up.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As I roll down to the gym (both literally and figuratively) everyday I have to talk myself out of this just being another phase and convince myself that I am trying to make a real life change. Which- given my track record- is not the truth. I go through phases like it is my job. Another day, another dollar, another phase.</span><br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Phase 1</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: I was going to be a doctor. My grandpa was a doctor. It made sense. Well, then I saw a little TV show called "ER" and realized that I did not like blood. This phase was also before I learned about the MCAT's, cancer, and what med school really required. I should also note that my second greatest fear in life is finding a dead body. This phase might make you think of a scene in "Step Brothers": (I can't find the YouTube clip...)</span><br />
<pre><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Nancy: Why is it that Dale never left?
Robert: Well, Dale has always coasted off my accomplishments. I mean, he left college his junior year because he said he wanted to join the family business.
Nancy: But you're a medical doctor.
Robert: Believe me, I've told him that. But he just always says, "It's all about who you know."</span></i></pre><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am happy to report for the sake of medical care in our country, this phase is long gone and has yet to return. </span><br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Phase 2</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: After I got over being a doctor I decided that the next logical step would be to be an actress/dancer/pop singing sensation. I was in sixth grade/junior high/high school drama. I took ballet lessons in 1st grade for one month and everyone wanted to be my partner when we did "run, run, leap." I was also in the </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Scaly Green Girls (SGG).</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> We performed in not one but two talent shows and wrote our own song. Clearly, this was logical. And I still think that it is.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuCINbrQB0aVSxGWAgioes1A3nB2jRQiQ0Zb6jTRQoJdnZe9wVV9AKJlaakta3sL3BD_jM7DmC5X2WqVujvVxBgkJdeuyonHLfpRgyUuJQKQBnXZLXE53hliRPftfO3PlyLYpk69Hne7pe/s1600/49720012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuCINbrQB0aVSxGWAgioes1A3nB2jRQiQ0Zb6jTRQoJdnZe9wVV9AKJlaakta3sL3BD_jM7DmC5X2WqVujvVxBgkJdeuyonHLfpRgyUuJQKQBnXZLXE53hliRPftfO3PlyLYpk69Hne7pe/s320/49720012.JPG" width="222" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After seeing </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Black Swan</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> this dream came back. I got mad hops and can rock the tutu look.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Phase 3:</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> While in Hawaii last summer, we went on a little walk up a small paved hill. I, logically of course, thought, "This is easy breezy. I could easily run a triathlon!" Yeah. A small nature walk on a paved sidewalk at a slight incline started my dream of being an Iron Man. I even looked up some training programs. Phase 3 has since died. And I am still at 30 to 35 minutes on the elliptical.</span><br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Phase 4</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: My current phase is to be a professional antique-er and fill my house with lots of stuff that is old and not worth anything. I will never dust. And I will probably redesign/retile/repaint/re-wallpaper/re-appliance my home in such a way that it will ruin any value that it may or may not have had.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">All of these phases were/are unrealistic (each in their own special way), but by golly! I hold onto them like it is the end of the world (not trying to make a Rapture joke). Who knows what phase I will go through when the current one(s) end? Maybe I will decided to start a bed and breakfast (I would call it Catitude Tracy's B&B)? Or become a television producer and re-create the </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Golden Girls </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">(I would play Blanche, obvs.)? I did watch </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Godfather Part II</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> last night and (not lying) did consider what steps I would need to take to become the head of my own family.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Actually. All of these ideas seem to be GREAT. Enter Phase 5? I think so...</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3PmrFW88rAqKBqRO_7145g4lzuIzfPc8rylDKU9tSr5n_j7Y8itzDub29nj7Pl6WOEKRJ8ZPnz9hm2OVwenllQoDV6l85DUTaV9uK0-pfmslE301lLHreDsTfPFlubft806u9RtRCDoxZ/s1600/goldern+girls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3PmrFW88rAqKBqRO_7145g4lzuIzfPc8rylDKU9tSr5n_j7Y8itzDub29nj7Pl6WOEKRJ8ZPnz9hm2OVwenllQoDV6l85DUTaV9uK0-pfmslE301lLHreDsTfPFlubft806u9RtRCDoxZ/s1600/goldern+girls.jpg" /></span></a></div><b><br />
</b>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17304496248077729950noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805825839462506977.post-31168238226024940112011-02-25T12:28:00.000-08:002011-02-25T12:30:00.516-08:0023 going on 83<div style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Guess what I am going to be doing this lovely (and really nippy) Friday afternoon in Moscow, Idaho?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Napping on my couch with two cats? No...but good guess.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hanging out with hot men that think I am the greatest thing since sliced bread? Getting warmer...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Interviewing a 90 year old man at a nursing home about his memories of the Kennedy's? *DING DING DING* We have a WINNER!!! </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Gerry (who I have NEVER met) and I will be having an intimate conversation in his apartment in the middle of the nursing home about John, Bobby and Teddy. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Jealous? Should be. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You should also be jealous of my mad craft skills. When craft time happens at my house, it is a </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">very</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> exciting time. It might not always be good exciting, but it is some kind of exciting. I get these ideas in my mind where I think that I need/am able to make something to add to the décor of my life.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Time Out</span></i></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. The décor in my life right now screams “GRANDMA LIVES HERE.” (I imagine that when I interview Gerry it will feel like I am in my own bedroom, when in fact I am in a nursing home.) I live in a wood paneled bedroom with jell-o molds on the wall above my desk. Pictures below. </span><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Time in.</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well the most recent “craft” project was to make one of those boards that is padded and covered in fabric and has ribbon and buttons. After buying a million buttons, spools of ribbon, and a giant piece of insulation. This is the result...</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnF-0f_jPEXV37QPh2TD5LtgiOBzxhL2jhI__ed-fIOvMuJDpGL2GSqIakTA6ZWkHPkfnvIbF30NIGQqRzUlmuIWIGVRFXpjHQ45qpRluruTfqfKrHoT_3bFCIrThjG9VmcrtWUbE9nTDh/s1600/IMG_0342.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnF-0f_jPEXV37QPh2TD5LtgiOBzxhL2jhI__ed-fIOvMuJDpGL2GSqIakTA6ZWkHPkfnvIbF30NIGQqRzUlmuIWIGVRFXpjHQ45qpRluruTfqfKrHoT_3bFCIrThjG9VmcrtWUbE9nTDh/s320/IMG_0342.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Looks ok, right? I think that it was a success. I am not going to be going into business making these things. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And if I ever decide to make something again, someone PLEASE remind me to try to match my new craft project to the current decor of my room. So many floral prints. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGsM_aEeFH8vaVPWFB4ysPef9WiB3kiMWwONknw-QpUXqBkDYJw5Kag47ksM0ExoZCT_AcGxPHZNV9QeCREMSlo06lkbKYvib8lF4VkY7gA3xCcrZnKYmBV749baMbduxvoIj_IaLlTtAb/s1600/IMG_0346.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGsM_aEeFH8vaVPWFB4ysPef9WiB3kiMWwONknw-QpUXqBkDYJw5Kag47ksM0ExoZCT_AcGxPHZNV9QeCREMSlo06lkbKYvib8lF4VkY7gA3xCcrZnKYmBV749baMbduxvoIj_IaLlTtAb/s320/IMG_0346.jpg" width="239" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Don't worry... I moved my bed so that it was centered.</span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But I got that little craft project out of my system, and I can now focus all of my time on transcribing my Kennedy interview with Gerry. Living the </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">d-r-e-a-m</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. And living like I am 83. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg89t7uhBswBlFTXIvByOOjM0-cIj9FnUArct0wo4cdMmZNSqIQ2ZAZ7G1qfii4hKzwO4t3KaWf0BbQvPJuuTi3S6VGEMZ6LodiicjA52KagQ-Zq00OM3d1Ybtxuf30QucsTOx59rYszuaR/s1600/IMG_0348.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg89t7uhBswBlFTXIvByOOjM0-cIj9FnUArct0wo4cdMmZNSqIQ2ZAZ7G1qfii4hKzwO4t3KaWf0BbQvPJuuTi3S6VGEMZ6LodiicjA52KagQ-Zq00OM3d1Ybtxuf30QucsTOx59rYszuaR/s320/IMG_0348.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If I was to ever get a guy into my room, this would for sure scare him away... </span></i></div>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17304496248077729950noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805825839462506977.post-3675592094106375052011-02-16T17:20:00.000-08:002011-02-16T17:20:24.718-08:00Back in the day... but if this doesn't sum up my life, what does?<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal">I write all these blogs (great, great blogs) in a Word document titled "blogtastic" that is saved on my desktop so that I can access it easily. In this document I write down a lot of things that should never ever make it to the internet. But today I found something from Summer 2010 that should have been posted long ago. It explains a) why I am currently in grad school and living in my parents basement, as opposed to having a "real" job and "real" home, b) why I spent VD(ay) 11 watching <i>Jesus Camp</i> and trying to find old science videos that I watched in high school biology and c) why I have this little blog. Here it is... purple is what I have added today, mainly for clarification. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Well for the last few days I have been exploring The Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. And I saw so much and it was soooo much fun! (<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">Whenever someone refers to Pennsylvania by it's official name you know they are cool.)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Doll Outlet</b>: This is basically what you think that it would be… a place that sells lots of dolls, but it is also soooo much more. For starters all the staff members wear scrubs (like nurses) and upstairs there is a “nursery” with lots of baby dolls. These dolls are newborns and come in all kinds of shapes, sizes, colors and with lots of different facial expressions. Warning: If you go here (and you should for a great laugh!) you might be asked if you want to hold the babies/dolls and if you say yes then you are going to have to hold it like a real baby. And there are lots of creepy pics of older men holding these dolls all around the store. It was so creepy and so funny at the same time. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">(As I look back on this moment it gets more and more creepy...which makes me think that I have seen the most creepy thing to be found in America. And I have seen <i>Black Swan</i>.)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Minor League Baseball</b>: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">HARRISBURG SENATORS!!! </i>Need I say more. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">(I got a t-shirt at the game and I wear it proudly. In public. Often.)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Amish Country</b>: Bird in Hand. Intercourse. Buggies. Pretzel making. Jam making. Antiquing. Everything you could ever want but with less technology. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">(Whenever people mention anything Amish (which does happen on occasion) I have to literally hold myself back from describing every detail from this trip to whoever is near me.) </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Titanic Exhibit</b>: There was stuff from the bottom of the ocean from the real ship. It was so cool and so old. And I got to touch an iceberg. And then I felt hurricane force winds. No BFD. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">(It was hurricane wind simulator. They now have one in the Palouse Empire Mall. So this has lost a little bit of the cool factor. But that Titanic stuff was still legit.)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Gettysburg Wax Museums</b>: G-burg is home to not one, BUT two wax museums! Who would have thought?! One of them is just about the Civil War and the other one has all the presidents. They were amazing. I love me some wax museums and these did not disappoint! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">***Confession of a Real Life Nerd</b>: When I was in 8<sup>th</sup> grade I went on this Girl Scout trip to Pennsylvania to learn about women in the civil war for ten days. It was called “Bonnets and Battlefields” (and they don’t offer it anymore and that is one of the reasons that I don’t approve of the direction that Girl Scouts is heading… but that is the topic for another post.) and it was super duper fun. But anyway, because of this nerdy experience I am kind of a G-Burg expert<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and loved being able to go back.<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">*** </b><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">(<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Yep. Civil War Battlefields. And strong feelings about the future directions of Girl Scouts. Who am I?)</span></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Mourned the Loss of Former Alaska Senator Theodore “Ted” Stevens: </b>Picture it. Fall of 2008. Me, a 20-something student studying in Washington DC for the semester. Ted, an 80-something senator from Alaska being tried for…. Our paths crossed when I went to watch his lawyers fight for a mistrial because the prosecution had withheld boxes of evidence and then blacked parts of it out. I know that he saw me because a) I was the youngest one in the room b) I had the most confused look on my face and c) I was the only one wearing glittery flip flops. (and I think that he should have been granted a mistrial, but again a post for another day). RIP Ted. RIP. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">(The fact that this was a major component of my trip makes me proud. The fact that I have mentioned my involvement in his trial since this time makes me prouder.)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">Well, Real World, we may meet one day in the future. But neither of us should hold our breathe for that day to come. Clearly, it is a long ways down the road. </span></div><!--EndFragment-->Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17304496248077729950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805825839462506977.post-46568449200735919352011-02-16T12:36:00.000-08:002011-02-16T12:42:02.682-08:00The things you “learn” in grad school.<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">* One day during my “office hours” (Basically I sit in an office/old dorm room with four desks, lots of old reports on different National Forests, and a beautiful portrait of birds.) I had some gummy bears and I wanted to know how many calories were in the pack. (You know, because Spring Break is getting close and this is what you do… I guess.) You might think that this would be easy given policies about nutritional labeling in our country. Well, I don’t eat the <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: lime;">green</span> or <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: yellow;">yellow</span> or <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: orange;">orange</span> ones. So I lined up all the gummy bears by color and then added them up and then did some simple math and concluded that there are 5.6 calories per gummy bear. From the packet of bears that I purchased, I ate 21 gummies (or 117.6 calories). Now would be a really good time for some one to come and be my friend and help me learn to be a real person.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmAB-7l7Eij3JiqFxaknpyWxRR-tcQInyU9u9X8DLKeVK4DTCdHDPi3CWSSKfIwVXWs5jR-FkmTXgqOCESh2rmdsG6w1FvVXwbAHdaGKRPiv-6sjK5SY7VwVUu66GiIi95aZVf38I96BpO/s1600/IMG_0304.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmAB-7l7Eij3JiqFxaknpyWxRR-tcQInyU9u9X8DLKeVK4DTCdHDPi3CWSSKfIwVXWs5jR-FkmTXgqOCESh2rmdsG6w1FvVXwbAHdaGKRPiv-6sjK5SY7VwVUu66GiIi95aZVf38I96BpO/s320/IMG_0304.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Oh. You didn't believe me... </i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEiLrEPchxWHOqpUcVnk1vdIylT6SuslZw_Krt-ALKI0QvtM_dBDiOyWxJWa8bASQMefgTc09Ny081PeqUuSac9CsjrbbWjz1OU7orVeMh_5KBfuC8z_L3kaYUzzftojkFdeopTQZq7Jg4/s1600/IMG_0311.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEiLrEPchxWHOqpUcVnk1vdIylT6SuslZw_Krt-ALKI0QvtM_dBDiOyWxJWa8bASQMefgTc09Ny081PeqUuSac9CsjrbbWjz1OU7orVeMh_5KBfuC8z_L3kaYUzzftojkFdeopTQZq7Jg4/s320/IMG_0311.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><o:p> <i>So much useless information. So much wasted shelf space. </i></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p><br />
</o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">* In my human evolution class we have spent the last week talking about mammalian lactation. I am now oddly prepared to have some suckle me. (Too far.) But the <b>areola</b> is intentionally a <b>darker color</b> so that little babies can find it. (Wayyyy too far.)</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">* I tried bubble tea the other day. (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bubble_tea">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bubble_tea</a>) Basically an Orange Julius with tapioca in it. It was oddly good. Except that my mom got me the mango flavored one. I do not like mango flavored things. Everyone take note. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOaDFGJVVxx8mWHKOWvGyqhBrHvzC1GDlQbJDifaI58WkFWGlMkLNMcyG2ie0sjD5oG0PRQmkDzM4i1-Z1YAQhUeBoZSDntC8fZ5l_mVmMo2a2m93F4N0B-ZgVgT8uqq8pz8LrBcLyWev4/s1600/IMG_0316.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOaDFGJVVxx8mWHKOWvGyqhBrHvzC1GDlQbJDifaI58WkFWGlMkLNMcyG2ie0sjD5oG0PRQmkDzM4i1-Z1YAQhUeBoZSDntC8fZ5l_mVmMo2a2m93F4N0B-ZgVgT8uqq8pz8LrBcLyWev4/s320/IMG_0316.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i>Who knew that there was black tapioca?!</i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">* Valentine’s Day is more about me giving cards, than me getting cards. [Real convo that happened between my brother and I. Me: Here is your Valentine’s Day card brother. Brother: Thanks. Do I have to get you one now?] But there is nothing in this world that I love more than a good old fashioned holiday card with funny cat pictures on it. They are purrrr-fect!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">* I am taking a class on family relationships and I think that I might be the only person in that class who is not engaged/married/committed into a serious relationship. But, (and if you know anything about my family this will be shocking) I am doing really well in it. Slightly unstable families can produce smart people. There is hope for all. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">* And the most important thing that I have learned this semester is that if you find a powdery white substance on your office desk, don’t automatically assume that it is anthrax. No one wants to kill you to steal the office bird painting and your secret knowledge of how many calories exist in one gummy bear.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi39RYddXXy_I7Wcfuh2Al68UWrrKQYuxpHE4Gw-BglQLoWU-dV4vtx6SLbeITjS1coFnfGgZIYcTxhwd2fwfIRj010kQHaEYPV1uGjCn6Thn8sFoP0CQx96SrODo0G4JJZJHb6N45sFdG-/s1600/IMG_0312.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi39RYddXXy_I7Wcfuh2Al68UWrrKQYuxpHE4Gw-BglQLoWU-dV4vtx6SLbeITjS1coFnfGgZIYcTxhwd2fwfIRj010kQHaEYPV1uGjCn6Thn8sFoP0CQx96SrODo0G4JJZJHb6N45sFdG-/s320/IMG_0312.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i>Art. Real Art. </i></div>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17304496248077729950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805825839462506977.post-23557940122532932842011-01-27T18:58:00.000-08:002011-01-27T22:05:02.631-08:00“Why would we put Andrew Jackson on money if he was such an uber-douche?”<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">I repeat: “Why would we put Andrew Jackson on money if he was such an uber-douche?” Isn’t this a question that we all ask ourselves multiple times daily? No. Oh. Well this was a question that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">was</i> asked in the class that I TA for. It was a magical moment; one that scares me for the future of our planet. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Let me set the scene:<o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">North American Indians. Talking about Andrew Jackson and the Indian Removal Policy of the 1830’s. An 8 AM class where the students usually sit quietly, and take detailed notes. Or nap. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Let me give you a cast of characters:<o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><u>Crazy Annoying Always Talks in Class Girl (CAATCG):</u> Picture “that girl” in all of your classes and multiply by ten thousand. She always talks. Never raises her hand. And never says anything worth listening to. Also- her boyfriend is Inuit and I think that gives her an odd sense of entitlement. (It also makes me hate my life because she has a boyfriend… but I digress.) </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><u>Rodney</u>: The professor. In his 60’s. So innocent and sweet and just the nicest, most caring man that you could ever imagine. Just loves teaching and gets so excited. Sometimes he calls me Stacey. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><u>Me</u>: The TA. Sitting quietly in the corner of the room taking notes so that if a student comes to me and asks for help I might be able to have a faint idea of what I am talking about. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><u>The Girl Behind Me</u>: A girl. That sits behind me in class. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><u>The Rest of the Class</u>: The other poor schmucks that had to sign up to take an 8AM class. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Act I, Scene 1: (Some of this is paraphrased…)<o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Rodney</i>: And Andrew Jackson was one of the only presidents who didn’t follow the ruling of the Supreme Court when he ordered that the Cherokee to march the Trail of Tears.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">CAATCG</i>: [Does not raise her hand. She just speaks up.] Why would we put Andrew Jackson on money if he was such an uber-douche?</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">[The class gasps. Everyone looks at each other in awe. “Did that just happen?” is uttered by several, including myself.]</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Rodney</i>: I am sorry. What?</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">CAATCG</i>: Why would we put Andrew Jackson on money if he was such an <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">uber-douche</b>?</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Rodney</i>: A what?</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">CAATCG</i>: A super douche bag. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Rodney</i>: Well. I taught you guys a new term today and you taught me something. [Clearly wants to move on because he does not understand our generations way of using the phrase “douche bag.”]</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">CAATCG</i>: [Refusing to let this ridiculous comment go.] I mean. We put good presidents on money. George Washington was like the founder of our country. Abe Lincoln freed the slaves. Ben Franklin…</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Girl Behind Me:</i> Wasn’t president.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Me</i>: [LOLing] Thank you for saying that. We were <i>all</i> thinking it. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">And that is all Shakespeare wrote. As I read back through this, maybe this was a moment that you had to be there for. But I hope that everyone can appreciate a moment that involves using the phrasing "uber douche" in front of an entire class and professor while referring to Native American/Federal Government policies through out history. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigIFG9VEZcNNHWDbeRJlS3LdDHI0Z6PxQBGpACyMmiV4uyZkUetjTGXPo9tyujwYOz3juiKf-rIoFT4zrB1ovYb-rkLKVIRAGOCwDat0wHgEMgoY_s2qxxcoIK9BINE1GBUQmxazN6C8_J/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigIFG9VEZcNNHWDbeRJlS3LdDHI0Z6PxQBGpACyMmiV4uyZkUetjTGXPo9tyujwYOz3juiKf-rIoFT4zrB1ovYb-rkLKVIRAGOCwDat0wHgEMgoY_s2qxxcoIK9BINE1GBUQmxazN6C8_J/s1600/images.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i>(Young) Andrew "Uber Douche" Jackson</i></div>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17304496248077729950noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805825839462506977.post-4009265748360559542011-01-20T18:27:00.000-08:002011-01-20T21:04:25.374-08:00Eminem made a comeback. And so am I!<div class="MsoNormal">I finished a whole semester of Grad School (and did I mention with straight A's?). Was it hard? Not really. Was it tedious? Yeppers. Did I learn a lot of new things? YOU BETCHA! And I made it the whole semester without blogging. Which probably affected no one, and greatly contributed to me getting respectable grades. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">There were a lot of highlights, but seeing as my mind was shut off for four weeks of winter break, and I have totally adapted to Spring Semester, I am only going to be able to remember the real good moments of fall semester and leave the rest behind. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">- On the <i>FIRST DAY</i> of Grad School (aka the first day of the most amazing new and life changing experience... the first day that I was going to become a new and more academic person) <b>I tripped while trying to get out of the wrong classroom</b>. This is a moment that I will <b>NEVER</b> forget. I was in the Law School (a place that I later learned I NEVER BELONG IN AGAIN) and I thought that my Native American Law class was in Room 103. I realized that it was not when all the people around me started to pull out books on something called "Torts" and that their books were red while mine was gray. While walking to the front of the classroom to ask the Professor where the F I was, a step came out of nowhere... and Grad School started off on the right foot. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">- I learned that Applebee's has karaoke on Friday nights. And that people actually name their children Lester. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">-I wrote some pretty great papers. I read some pretty eye opening books. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">-But the thing that will forever stick with me. The thing that I will tell my grandkids when they ask me about my Grad School days is this... One day. A sunny day. During the second week of school. I was sitting outside waiting for the class that I TA to start. I was reading <u>Push</u> (which inspired the movie "Precious. Based on the Novel 'Push' by Saphire"). And then a nice gentleman came and sat next to me. He pulled out his cellphone and placed a call. Now. I was trying to mind my own business, but I couldn't help to overhear parts. Mainly this part. <i>“Girls be trippin’. They lick the balls, but don’t suck it.” </i>It was at this exact moment that I knew I had come to right school and that I was in a for a semester I would never forget. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As it turns out, I forgot most of it. But not that part. So. Thank you, sir. Not only did you teach me something that I did not know about my gender, but you gave me a moment to remember. A scarring moment to remember </div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">-<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></div>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17304496248077729950noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805825839462506977.post-72895542364871452352010-08-06T08:01:00.000-07:002010-08-06T08:01:11.963-07:00I apologize in advance if you ever hear my music on the airplane.<div class="MsoNormal">But first… <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">The End of KAFS 2010</b>: We had our last “field trip” (and we all know how I feel about using that phrase). It was arguably the best "field trip," but then again our "field trips" have included an 8.6 mile hike through a swamp, reforestation efforts, and a 6AM wake up. This one was (thankfully) different. We left at 10.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Went to a scenic overlook. Went to a Heiau (Hawaiian temple ---<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heiau">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heiau</a>). Went to Panda Express. Came home. Discussed “notion site” (not gonna lie, I could have done without this part). Studied for our quiz. Went to class. Took said quiz. Only listed two things when I was suppose to list ten (Goodbye sixteen points. Thank you reading skillz of a first grader.). Spent an entire day packing and enjoying the beach one last time. Spent another day sitting around doing nothing because I scheduled a real late flight.<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> </b>Oh! And did I mention that I bought the world’s largest avocado?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1PwFvawUz8I6KWf9dwFNAGLLEP3Llnmg5U8yinXz4GlbSsRp6Wr-LxFTaY10J7PGNg0CNG3OmiwQUmSGSUslxuI_p6HONQRWBcoMVhJtvbYMk2x7FrMvLJ90NP7Fth7Ns8ePrhVPmTaYk/s1600/IMG_0655.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1PwFvawUz8I6KWf9dwFNAGLLEP3Llnmg5U8yinXz4GlbSsRp6Wr-LxFTaY10J7PGNg0CNG3OmiwQUmSGSUslxuI_p6HONQRWBcoMVhJtvbYMk2x7FrMvLJ90NP7Fth7Ns8ePrhVPmTaYk/s320/IMG_0655.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>Just add salt and pepper! And it was only $1...so much avocado for so little cash money!</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>Now... about my iPod (affectionately named Rico Suave (in memory of my first car)). </i></div><div class="MsoNormal">While at the airport in Honolulu, I realized that I was tots being “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that girl</i>” that everyone was looking at and judging. I looked like the pretentious Mac user. When I wasn’t changing songs on my iPod, I was checking texts on my iPhone. And when I wasn’t downloading new apps for said iPhone, then I was typing my final/BLOG on my bright pink MacBook. Well, with all of attention on me (or so I was telling myself… I am sure that in reality no one noticed and I overreacted to something yet again) I started to worry that everyone could hear what was playing on my iPod. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Now. If you were to ask me I would tell you that I have <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">GREAT</b> taste in music. I mean c’mon. I have the necessary skillz to be a professional mix maker. However, others may disagree with this statement. It is more than safe to say that I have the music taste of both a 13 year old white girl (spanning several decades) and a 25 year old black man. Again, while making for (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">arguably</i>) the best iTunes library east <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and</i> west of the Mississippi I am not sure if all airport goers appreciate this. Especially the six year old boy that I was seated next to (but to be honest, I don't care if he was happy because he was a pain in my tushy). </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">For example, on my “iPhone” mix (which is songs just for my iPhone… “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that girl</i>” coming out again) here are ten songs that can randomly come on at any given time. <i>(and I would try to find links to all of these on YouTube, but you are all big boys/girls and to be honest, you should already know all of these songs by heart!)</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">1- “You’re a Jerk” ---New Boyz</div><div class="MsoNormal">2- “How Do You Sleep?”--- Jesse McCartney (not the one featuring Ludacris, but I have that one too…)</div><div class="MsoNormal">3- “I Swear” --- All-4-One</div><div class="MsoNormal">4- “Tearin’ Up My Heart”--- N*Sync</div><div class="MsoNormal">5-<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Break Up” --- Mario</div><div class="MsoNormal">6- “Everywhere” --- Michelle Branch</div><div class="MsoNormal">7- “Baby”--- J. Bieb featuring Luda</div><div class="MsoNormal">8- “Tipsy” ---T-Pain (not to be mistaken for Tipsy by Chingy, which I also have.)</div><div class="MsoNormal">9- “Do You Remember?”--- Jay Sean featuring Sean Kingston and Lil Jon</div><div class="MsoNormal">10- “One Call Away” ---Chingy featuring J/Weav</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Oh. And I do have a mix titled "weezy." with nothing but Lil Wayne. (<b><i>YOUNG MOOLAH BABY!</i></b>)</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And none of it is edited. I only buy the "explicit" version. So, sorry airport goers that had to watch the female version of Steve Jobs in Honolulu today. And sorry to the passerbys that happen to get a little sneaky peak into my current obsession with Pretty Ricky. <i><b>Or should I say, you're welcome?!?!?!</b></i></div><!--EndFragment-->Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17304496248077729950noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805825839462506977.post-69872424404308149982010-08-03T00:48:00.000-07:002010-08-03T00:49:23.362-07:0017 hours in Idaho is just not enough time.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"> </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">One week left. Things are getting rough. Someone (who shall remain nameless because fellow field schoolers have started to read this...</span><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">SHOUT OUT!</span></i></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">) has stopped doing their own dishes. The kitchen/entire house smells like something is dead and decomposing. I learned (the hard way) that one of the girls (again nameless, but the same one that doesn't do dishes and chews reals loud with her mouth open) here has both of her nipples pierced. No one cleans their hair out of the shower drain when they are done with it. I have become the brunt of </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">many</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> jokes. And I am beginning to seriously doubt my street cred to be doing anything in the anthropological world. But the end is in sight and to be fair, things aren’t </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">quite</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> as bad as they may sound. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Today was our last day in the cave and things were very chillaxed (which was really good for me because since seeing </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Inception</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> I think that I am not sleeping well out of fear that my dreams are going to be extracted or even worse that ideas are going to be planted in my mind and I am going to end up in limbo.). We did have a little photo shoot for some Hawaiian airline magazine and I was specifically told not to pose, which was really hard for me. Then we had an "authentic luau" with Hawaiians living on the island of Ni’ihau. (For more information on this secret little island please refer to </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Niihau"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Niihau</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> --- and save the lecture on how reliable Wikipedia may or may not be.) Rumor had it that they were going to catch a wild pig for us to eat and I assumed that there was going to be dancing (hula=luau in my mind). However, there were neither of these things. Instead we had potato salad, rice, poi, and laulau (which did have pork, but I am not totally convinced some of the other items were authentic.). But they did sing to us in Hawaiian and that was </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">sweeeeeet</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">, </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> Just one more quiz, packing, a final and then field school will be </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">FIN</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">. Time really has flown by, but I am more than ready to get back to the mainland and start something else new and exciting (</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">and never ever in a billion years screen clay again</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">). </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">But the one thing that I am not looking forward to when I get home is the amount of errands that I have to do in the 17 hours that I have before I leave for my last summer vacay of twenty-ten. My “To Do List” is pretty long and I am sure that you want to know what is on it, and I am more than happy to share. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">To Do During My 17 Hours in Idaho:</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">- </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Buy my textbooks</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> (Now, you might be saying to yourself “Can’t this wait? Her classes don’t start until August 23</span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">rd</span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">.” And you are half way right, but what you don’t know is that I like to buy used textbooks because they are way cheaper, but that I do not like to buy used books that have been highlighted and written in (that is something that I like to do to my books myself). This means that I have to get there early to look for the book that belonged to the kid that never opened it. This is really important, and therefore needs to be done ASAP before I get stuck either buying new books or written in books.) </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">---P.S. Love you lots Dad!!---</span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">- </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Figure out if taking 15 credits is a good, bad or great idea</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">. (I just realllllly want to take this one class on Idaho history and I know that I can do it and to be honest I am not going to have a life anyways (living at home with my mom and two (</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">adorable!</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">) cats) and I just love the Gem State sooooo much!)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">- </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Turn in my final for one of the classes here</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">. (While I appreciate the extra time, this does kind of mess with my summer plans and therefore I cannot guarantee that the quality of work will be the best. Ideally, I hope to complete this before I even get off of my second flight.)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">- </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Go tanning</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">. (Judge this all you want, but I need to maintain what I have built up here and I got me some crazy lines going on and I need to get them taken care of.)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">- </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Figure out what being a TA really means. </span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(and it might just maybe be nice to know who I am going to be working for... )</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">- </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">and last</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">, </span><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">but really not that important</span></b></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">, </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">it might be nice to try to get a couple hours of sleep. </span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Seems easy enough! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgronG0tawnSP8KvkERnDXHsM25JzmEWpBlj6l0xHSffkOzPWdfwwK5qxg8774IqcuPNOhkGKly6vJQYD92whuzagBY1IRgeHT4aThHe6XFqvXt10njNMPDjb_249Ob1U1W6WLBHPQrRsEd/s1600/IMG_4061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgronG0tawnSP8KvkERnDXHsM25JzmEWpBlj6l0xHSffkOzPWdfwwK5qxg8774IqcuPNOhkGKly6vJQYD92whuzagBY1IRgeHT4aThHe6XFqvXt10njNMPDjb_249Ob1U1W6WLBHPQrRsEd/s320/IMG_4061.JPG" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We went on a hike. It was reals long... like 8.6 miles long and it was kind of cold and it was in a swamp. </span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> </i></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><i></i></span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><i></i></span><br />
<i><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5sQPLedwMA8XBX6eUmJgPNE4QBbkgf-ooZi2UC0g9pun1QUcBw-KyU_O6uhDPmAMy8HbBN_Tl6p4T_0k9L1wpyPDRCyToa2g3qKgN5PojfEetzgKHZhE1pYYuyOLhHS4r9pp-bwoED3Hw/s1600/IMG_4050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5sQPLedwMA8XBX6eUmJgPNE4QBbkgf-ooZi2UC0g9pun1QUcBw-KyU_O6uhDPmAMy8HbBN_Tl6p4T_0k9L1wpyPDRCyToa2g3qKgN5PojfEetzgKHZhE1pYYuyOLhHS4r9pp-bwoED3Hw/s320/IMG_4050.JPG" /></span></a></span></div></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I accidentally stepped in the swamp with one foot. Good bye new shoes. It was nice knowing you when you were clean and your right one looked just like the left. (but thank heavens that I wasn't wearing the polio shoes!)</span></i></div></span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #535353; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 27px;"><b> </b></span></span></div>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17304496248077729950noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805825839462506977.post-36020839489355988842010-07-28T00:41:00.000-07:002010-07-28T00:41:56.821-07:00Jobs that I should have access DENIED.<div class="MsoNormal">A lot of the people here are really into doing this whole archaeology thing in the future. Like as a career. For the rest of their lives. I, on the other hand, am not. Doing Hawaiian archaeology (and dare I say any kind of archaeology) for the rest of my life would be my hell. The devil would literally be standing over me while I spent eternity screening through samples of dirt with nothing in it. But this fact (and that I asked someone to be thesis advisor and finally picked all of my classes for the fall) really got me thinking a little bit about what I might actually be capable of doing in the future. And then I started to think about the things that I most def. should not, under no circumstances, do. (Be advised that this list is incomplete, and I am willing to take suggestions of other careers that I should not pursue.)</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Junior High/High School Health Teacher/Sex Ed Instructor:</b> For starters, unless the medically accepted terms for certain “parts” (you know the ones) are “down there” and “thingy,” then this job is not for me. I blush really easily and I don’t like talking about “it” and if I do have to talk about "it" I always spell it out (s-e-x). If I was ever in a jam and teaching Sex Ed to a group of eighth graders was the only thing separating me from a homeless woman, know this. Lil Wayne would<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>be included in all my lesson plans. (Go to 3:40 for a little preview into how I would teach my students about safe sex--- <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rqt-5uBpMVI">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rqt-5uBpMVI</a>) In fact, we probably would just listen to a lot of Weezy and try to get as many lessons out of it as possible (like don’t carry around concealed weapons.). </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: auto;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCNOsFddS8W_kuSD5oVXS_ekfagYw7qWOo8sYc19WHpTT30pru06SN28Ht61qOH2xlTnotj5qu9O-ktGZepQj_LHS3qhjto1UrZTupOIh0zmw_AFQxErNs2V1y7VQ5gP29ld1H8CMuul9b/s1600/lil-wayne.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCNOsFddS8W_kuSD5oVXS_ekfagYw7qWOo8sYc19WHpTT30pru06SN28Ht61qOH2xlTnotj5qu9O-ktGZepQj_LHS3qhjto1UrZTupOIh0zmw_AFQxErNs2V1y7VQ5gP29ld1H8CMuul9b/s320/lil-wayne.jpg" /></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><i>Would you really want this man teaching your kids about s-e-x?</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Matchmaker</b>: I can't find someone for myself, so what do you think makes me qualified to hook other people up? Nothing. Exactly. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Personal Assistant</b>: Oh! You want me to get you coffee and food and wash your clothes and walk your dog and carry all of your stuff and keep track of calendar and answer your e-mails and follow you around like a little puppy all at the same time all day every day? No thank you! I don’t even want to do those things for myself, let alone for someone else. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Pilot</b>: The TSA/FAA wouldn't even let me finish filling out the application before they realized that that was a disaster in the making. And, add <b>Airport Security</b> because that job would be no fun and I firmly believe that you should be allowed to take on more than 3 ounces of fluids and I know with my luck that I would be the one that let the crazy terrorist onto the flight. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Boot Camp Leader</b>: No way in heck would I make some poor just out of high school kid do push ups and sit ups in the heat for hours on end while I was yelling at them. Under my reign they could stay up late, sleep in, and keep their hair the way that they want it! And then the terrorists win... </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>College Professor</b>: I know what students say about professors behind their backs, and I just don't have the nerves for that. And I would hate grading papers and I just know that all of my classes would get put in the 8 AM slot. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Professional Wrestler</b>: Hahahaha! Need I say more!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">(and just to add some optimism)</i> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Jobs that I would be GREAT at:<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal">- Professional doodler ( specializing in hearts, flowers, and deltas)</div><div class="MsoNormal">- Anything involving cats or cookbooks or both</div><div class="MsoNormal">- professional playlist/mix maker (or Wedding DJ)</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And a little update about the happenings (but not in a day by day form because that is just too much work for me right now seeing as I wrote an eight page paper on four articles that I did not understand!): went to the Na Pali Coast at 6 AM. Sat at the front of the boat and almost fell out. Went snorkeling twice and saw some really amazing fish (especially the one that was black and blue polka-dot and looked like it was glowing in the dark). Got a cheeseburger at this one place in Waimea and it was really yummy and I am excited to move there one day and eat lots more of them. Went to a rodeo and repeated to myself every time a cowboy walked by “cowboy butts drive me nuts!”. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Went to this new sight and nearly witnessed Dr. H nearly jizz in his pants over a piece of seed shell that can be dated. Back to the cave (found coconut and Dr. B was super excited so I looked reals smart…win!). Work. Class. Quiz. Sleeping. Eating. The usual… you know. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4SeT5BmkUk4ZYEwBJeprtyEoFvLOlw-iWBRsgBTm4crvOtZxmive1Q-FXSWiH5JCINZf9QfWdyK51wFA8kY-Th-5T7S_kM2ATX04vRRg0hrBeyqIP-AmRmFxgNbAP68gg3qfwZ7XdE9lj/s1600/IMG_3936.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4SeT5BmkUk4ZYEwBJeprtyEoFvLOlw-iWBRsgBTm4crvOtZxmive1Q-FXSWiH5JCINZf9QfWdyK51wFA8kY-Th-5T7S_kM2ATX04vRRg0hrBeyqIP-AmRmFxgNbAP68gg3qfwZ7XdE9lj/s320/IMG_3936.JPG" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><i>Cowboy butts drive me nuts! And there were people in Wrangler jeans here and I felt like I was back at home! </i></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><i><br />
</i></span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicL_PqEv6IDke90qknjNz8X6eNti5yV45XTO-8wn9YIdChsO-MzzYdsfX9SbAj-8dZQK12gmokwRmmYvRiDdCEV2UyH78YdiH4B97HINJ2NwNrx-1eNoDa-thfMM-l8r09fYS2lvChapSH/s1600/IMG_3885.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicL_PqEv6IDke90qknjNz8X6eNti5yV45XTO-8wn9YIdChsO-MzzYdsfX9SbAj-8dZQK12gmokwRmmYvRiDdCEV2UyH78YdiH4B97HINJ2NwNrx-1eNoDa-thfMM-l8r09fYS2lvChapSH/s320/IMG_3885.JPG" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>Na Pali Coast! We saw dolphins on the way over!</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6aBfsrRu8IftyDxJiUtMlrPSR8VQLQt9TkfXSKTGq3qpjgDJ5fKnmNgrjPtjvfpd5ZGP89TjideI3uoaTTKjhlZ90_skq6FTo0ck0f8RQwQgxjBgtXBB1yXZ3QvDhIe8zZUz1Uk-4jOel/s1600/IMG_3891.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6aBfsrRu8IftyDxJiUtMlrPSR8VQLQt9TkfXSKTGq3qpjgDJ5fKnmNgrjPtjvfpd5ZGP89TjideI3uoaTTKjhlZ90_skq6FTo0ck0f8RQwQgxjBgtXBB1yXZ3QvDhIe8zZUz1Uk-4jOel/s320/IMG_3891.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>X marks the spot at the Na Pali coast! Oh, nature! You do the craziest things!</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Less than a week left here on the Garden Island... but don't fret readers! I am oddly ready to leave and start a new adventure (in the form of PA VACAY 20-10 and living at home for the first time in 4 years!)!! </div><!--EndFragment-->Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17304496248077729950noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805825839462506977.post-31949181247976931732010-07-23T21:13:00.000-07:002010-07-23T21:17:55.407-07:00Life Changing Revelation: WALK ON THE WILD SIDE!So tomorrow we are going to the Na Pali Coast. Where/what is that you may ask yourself? Well… let me tell you!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">- A very special place on Kaua'i with waterfalls and valleys and cliffs that you can only get to by boat or hiking.</div><div class="MsoNormal">- A state park that is being preserved and has lots of native stuff and I am going to get to plant a native plant. </div><div class="MsoNormal">- A place where you can go snorkeling. </div><div class="MsoNormal">- A place that is really expensive/hard to get to and it is going to fall into the ocean one day and you might only get one chance to ever go (ignore the fact that this will be my second trip there…). </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Well. I am really excited about this trip and I really want to go snorkeling at least once while I am here and I really want to go at this place because there aren't going to be a million people there. So today we went somewhere that you can rent gear (about $18 for the three day period that I will need it for) and I was the only one that got some! Now, maybe other people can’t swim, so I don’t want to judge, but I realized something while I was renting my mask and fins… <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">WALK ON THE WILD SIDE</i></b>. During this trip I have done a lot of sitting on my tushy. I used to love this life style and was tots fine with it but <b>HELLO</b>! I am on Kaua’i where there is so much to do and see and learn and I want to do and see and learn it all! Even if that means that I have to do and see and learn it all by myself. No one is going to stop me from <b><i>WALKING ON THE WILD SIDE</i></b> during this field trip!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And as I was thinking about all the ways that I am going to <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">WALK ON THE WILD SIDE</i></b> while still on this little island, I realized something else… I can <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">WALK ON THE WILD SIDE EVERYWHERE THAT I GO!!</i></b> There is so much to do and see and learn every where I am! Idaho? Sure! Pennsylvania? Get ready Megan! Random places that I decide to go in the future? You know it! No more sitting around for this girl! So...instead of being bummed that no one wants to do things with me and therefore not doing them, I am going to laugh in their faces and then head off on an adventure that Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay (the first people to successfully climb Mount Everest) would be jealous of and take lots of pictures and have the most amazing time and be the happiest girl in the world. Neal Armstrong will be turning green with envy when he hears about my new lifestyle! I used to have imaginary friends when I was little (and arguably when I was even a little too old for it to be "cute/normal" anymore) and they are all that I need to have a great time in life. They are always willing to <b><i>WALK ON THE WILD SIDE</i></b> with me!!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This might require me taking out a couple loans to pay for this new found life style (<b><i>WALKING ON THE WILD SIDE</i></b> ain't free!), but life is just too short and there are too many things that I <b>need</b> to do before I get too old/have too many cats. And the I have already quit napping (cold turkey) so nothing is standing in my way!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Care to join me? Let me know. You (whoever you may be) can be my P.I.C. (partner-in-crime)! I will update you on all the adventures that I take! Hikes? Sure! Snorkeling? Yeppers! Rodeos? No doubt! Triathalons? You know it! Museums? Duh! Visit all 50 state capital buildings? Get it!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I am purging all the negativity out of my life (aka people that annoy me, foods that I do not like, things that I do not want to do but feel obligated to do, clothes that look bad on me, shoes that do not fit) and I am going to have <b>FUN FUN FUN</b>! Good thing that I really like school (<b><i>WALKING ON THE WILD SIDE NERDY STYLE</i></b>!) because I still plan on finishing two masters and maybe a Ph.D, but know this! My thesis and dissertation are going to be really <b>FUN</b> and <i>I am going to have one hell of a great time writing them (all 1,000 million pages!)!!!!</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt;">And a <b>BIG THANK YOU</b> to Jason Derulo for my new life anthem... Get it!!! <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ESdn0MuJWQ&feature=avmsc2">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ESdn0MuJWQ&feature=avmsc2</a></span> <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-large;">Watch out world! It's time to start </span><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-large;">WALKING ON THE WILD SIDE</span></i></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-large;">!!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL2rbF5GMQzm_kjMdrlJq29zM09q52SkAlb5v94yRTuw7I7_8xzhnlpqosVEmRudvzEX-wpaYAg-QM3TRUC3D7pbDeZvZ_gwC2gV0aHfuyrFV_LYGgPE7dXHAUmHnuwQva9M1Xxz4lzv33/s1600/33964.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL2rbF5GMQzm_kjMdrlJq29zM09q52SkAlb5v94yRTuw7I7_8xzhnlpqosVEmRudvzEX-wpaYAg-QM3TRUC3D7pbDeZvZ_gwC2gV0aHfuyrFV_LYGgPE7dXHAUmHnuwQva9M1Xxz4lzv33/s320/33964.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>If I wasn't sure enough that I wanted to do this, this image totally made up my mind!!</i><br />
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</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn7r9fgajp2Ag6Fbq8nWN8v4C6N8ls_ASImLYr4JFpzMikQEYVMAHXZImsygh3edqvHNIv2kcAMFyn9h2ak1bQKJQPf84RncbK3_k39o0lLoTNAHrqHY6E79PAPcTy-_iZi0PpJvBHMXsQ/s1600/IMG_0630.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn7r9fgajp2Ag6Fbq8nWN8v4C6N8ls_ASImLYr4JFpzMikQEYVMAHXZImsygh3edqvHNIv2kcAMFyn9h2ak1bQKJQPf84RncbK3_k39o0lLoTNAHrqHY6E79PAPcTy-_iZi0PpJvBHMXsQ/s320/IMG_0630.JPG" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>"I want to <b>WALK ON THE WILD SIDE</b> too!" </i></div>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17304496248077729950noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805825839462506977.post-37700677574113395782010-07-22T02:29:00.000-07:002010-07-22T02:34:29.499-07:00Necker? I hardly even know her!<div class="MsoNormal"><i>Thoughts/Questions/Concerns (and of course a day-by-day!):</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">- Today in class we learned all about the remote Northwest Hawaiian Islands of Nihoa and Necker. And every time my professor would say “Necker” I would say (In my mind of course. You know that I don’t interrupt in class.) “Necker? I hardly even know her!” and then laugh a lot in my head at how creative I am! And then we saw pictures of some old stone sculptures of men that were found on the island of Necker (<i>hardly even know her!</i>) so I drew a picture in my notes. Here it is for your enjoyment: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP7kI5N9EbaIPIIKfsJawkvjtwAbEOOC1b8iWxwrM_DU_E2mI1edjU128ceGtuJllEf1v8oEEyWwV7CHQ7JHP39eH8oirbJPnbLCHPYrTFGNwxv3Egg7X2MLpSEncRyET0HiOikk93zWa0/s1600/IMG_0643.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP7kI5N9EbaIPIIKfsJawkvjtwAbEOOC1b8iWxwrM_DU_E2mI1edjU128ceGtuJllEf1v8oEEyWwV7CHQ7JHP39eH8oirbJPnbLCHPYrTFGNwxv3Egg7X2MLpSEncRyET0HiOikk93zWa0/s320/IMG_0643.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>Oh... and not only did I think about the Necker? Hardly know her! thing... I wrote it down in case I forgot it!</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">- Have you ever wanted to sleep but your roomies are still awake and you feel reals bad about turning the light out and you just hope that they will get the hint and be nice and turn it off for you, but they don’t? Well… that has been the story of my life these last two nights. Grandma here likes to go to bed at a reasonable hour (read as 11 PM) but sometimes the lights don’t go out until after midnight! So I just lay in bed thinking that maybe I can fall asleep, but I can’t. And then when I wake up at 7 AM the next morning all I want to do is go back to bed. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">- PDA is G-R-O- Double S <b>GROSS</b>! <i>(and I might just be saying that because I never get the chance to commit it, but if I did I would respect others and not do it in front of those that are less fortunate.)</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">- I am really starting to like it here (and yes, things were kind of bleak for a little while), but I am starting to get a little worried about the fact that this is a learning experience with <b>a grade</b>. We have a midterm due on Friday (no biggie but I turned it in today!) and then a three page paper that I have yet to start and four mini papers summing up four different articles that I still have to read and I get <b>graded</b> on all of them! AGH! This is so much work and did I mention that I get a <b>grade</b>!?!?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">- Do you think that I am going to have enough time to do my laundry after Hawaii and before I go to Pennsylvania if I am home for less than 24 hours? The washing machine better be empty and ready for a marathon when I walk in the door!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">- Did anyone else think that this is what I would be doing all summer? <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-_fF6P_PQqQ">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-_fF6P_PQqQ</a> Kind of a disappointment... not going to lie, but I <b>WILL</b> find some kind of really great artifact before I leave. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">- <b>EXCITING NEWS</b>: I plan on snorkeling Friday and then again at the Na Pali Coast on Saturday (during our special tour… <b>VIP BABY</b>!) and then we are going to a <b>rodeo</b> on Sunday! Can you say “best weekend ever”? I can!! Only thing that might make it better,<b> COKE ICEE</b>!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Day Ten</b> (<i>continued</i>): Eventually escaped from the house. Went to this weird beach party thing in honor of <i>Koloa Plantation Days</i> (It was a basically a bunch of tourists at an overpriced hotel.). Came home. Made pina coladas. Went to bed. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Day Eleven</b>: Woke up. Lounged around in my pj’s until noonish. Went to the beach. Got rained on. Then got sunned on. Got rained on. Then got sunned on. Went home. Dinner. Homework. Bed. (my kind of day!)</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Day Twelve</b>: Back to the cave! Screened more clay (SOOOO much clay!!!!). Lunch. More clay and then (what I have been waiting for all of my life!) <i>ARTIFACTS, SNAILS, FISH BONES OH MY</i>! Home. Dinner. Class (real exciting and we learned brand new data that hasn’t even been published yet...but I cannot tell you because it is kind of a big deal.). Home. Got a midterm (<b>AGH</b>!). Watched stuff on Netflix Instant. Bed.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Day Thirteen</b>: Cave. More screening dirt with stuff in it. Lunch. Still screening. Home. Dinner. Baked a funfetti cake for someone’s birthday. Class (learned all about the weather here on the Islands). Home. Ate cake. Worked on midterm. Bed. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Day Fourteen:</b> Cave. Screening. Digging (yeppers! I dug in the dirt in the bottom of the cave and I had to wear a helmet and pull out giant rocks and I did an awesome job!). More screening. Lunch. More screening. Home. Watched/Dominated Jeopardy! again (Was one episode the little kid edition? Yes. But I still got a bunch of the questions right!). Class. Watched <b><i>Teen Mom Season 2 Episode 1 <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">(</span></span></i>LOVE!</b>). Worked on my midterm. Finished my midterm. Sent my midterm into my professors and then panicked that I forgot to answer part of the question. BLOGGED. Made the goal that I would most def post this blog before I go to bed (<b>ACHIEVED</b>!). </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">(Sooo many shout outs so little time: <b>Hi Aunt Ann!</b> Mom said that you are reading my blog…Hope that you are enjoying! Lots of love from Hawaii to Kansas City! </div><div class="MsoNormal">And HI to <b>bride-to-be Jill</b>! SOOO excited for the big day in October (I'll blog about that too!!)!)</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And because BFF Lauren was worried about the status of the blog after this little Kaua'i adventure is over (which is coming up sooner rather than later) <b>CAT CUDDLIN' & COOKBOOK COLLECTIN'</b> will go on!!! I'll make a few changes, but I know that you all want to hear about my first year in grad school and I just can't disappoint!) </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And (last thing... <i>PROMISE</i>!) I put a sample of this blog into thing that tells you the famous person that you write like (<a href="http://iwl.me/">http://iwl.me/</a>) and the answer is... <b>DAN BROWN</b>!!! But I bet that this is wayyy better than <i>The Da Vinci Code</i>! </div>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17304496248077729950noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805825839462506977.post-73873158094846697932010-07-17T19:04:00.000-07:002010-07-20T20:29:00.367-07:00A life without napping is no life at all.<div class="MsoNormal">First full week <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">FIN </b>and well underway in the second! And I am still going strong! Not sunburned. Rash tots gone and has not even started to make a return even though I am no longer using the SPF 50. Making friends like a boss (kinda). Able to climb in and out of the cave without bumping anything but my backpack. Found a <b>HUGE</b> piece of gourd the other day (ignore the fact that I accidently broke it in two somewhat smaller pieces). <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">COKE ICEE</b>. Field school ain’t half bad (except all the sandwiches that I have to eat. That part is whole bad. AND that the internet is still being a pain in my tushy...<i>don't get me started. Don't EVEN get me started</i>!)!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Day Six</b>: Back to the cave. Started to dig in the part of the cave that we will be working on all week (in case you want to map it out, II 75 1.3 meters from the datum rock at R 40 (oh you <i>didn’t</i> understand what all those numbers meant? That’s weird because I have no idea what I just said either. People here just rattle off numbers and facts like you know what they are saying and the best thing that you can do is smile and nod and then talk about what it all meant with your classmates over the screen later when the professors aren’t listening). Lunch at the beach. More screening clay (straight up clay. NO artifacts.) through a mesh screen that you would see on a window to help keep little tiny bugs out. Home. Eat. Class. Homework. Sleep.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNDQs5OX3mKUxuRKZUqBPrDb4yposlON5SIuqRbP_sMInWNUasXBFHN4AZuPhCuPHm2b13q3HRSEvwPH6GXq0MDg1qDs_ziok6qrUyUJOh3jHuPRHn1tjK2BZhygGtzp-WLDSkjPKSJQ3F/s1600/IMG_3858.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNDQs5OX3mKUxuRKZUqBPrDb4yposlON5SIuqRbP_sMInWNUasXBFHN4AZuPhCuPHm2b13q3HRSEvwPH6GXq0MDg1qDs_ziok6qrUyUJOh3jHuPRHn1tjK2BZhygGtzp-WLDSkjPKSJQ3F/s320/IMG_3858.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>The hole that we are getting all of our dirt from. </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br />
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<i><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL6czEXF1b3bpHOzNfgwbLxchIZcPYG551AgUw46jMg6sKpEJ1ZLzwtxpTlrr5OchsuZyOoTgIARsRvSy-dTXPxCTNzil_q61Zyj-7cwVsNsL5rPHs-i6vEMx-tB8VjoXiI83LJ72ZCobC/s1600/IMG_3859.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL6czEXF1b3bpHOzNfgwbLxchIZcPYG551AgUw46jMg6sKpEJ1ZLzwtxpTlrr5OchsuZyOoTgIARsRvSy-dTXPxCTNzil_q61Zyj-7cwVsNsL5rPHs-i6vEMx-tB8VjoXiI83LJ72ZCobC/s320/IMG_3859.JPG" /></a></span></div><div style="text-align: left;">Where that hole is... aka the cave that we are digging into. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw4D0E6vWWzxj89PPqNEJnWKrvN6JCyJPlM77Rjmn-xqVCD0WZvdsmgS2i8_Saj0vtYiVA_hLtnCT75dF0ZCd6u4Rc3IXjel9v-tlaglE2WANgjySgHH5_ohi7ZI6YIQtzzfXBKCwhpLzS/s1600/IMG_3860.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw4D0E6vWWzxj89PPqNEJnWKrvN6JCyJPlM77Rjmn-xqVCD0WZvdsmgS2i8_Saj0vtYiVA_hLtnCT75dF0ZCd6u4Rc3IXjel9v-tlaglE2WANgjySgHH5_ohi7ZI6YIQtzzfXBKCwhpLzS/s320/IMG_3860.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">The pumps that we are using to get rid of all the H2O in the cave. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCx005MLbiWeT9BsACq0VQzpiPJsQu_nNnsKxIa-rp78tyEQbIgBssZdx7KFGC9hbS57KhYgnFo5lI5QUSGDZBjZNodZNLEv5XQbxRf5giIwcRsO8nsPCTMTI299a7SevjdFt84q7aMv81/s1600/IMG_3861.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCx005MLbiWeT9BsACq0VQzpiPJsQu_nNnsKxIa-rp78tyEQbIgBssZdx7KFGC9hbS57KhYgnFo5lI5QUSGDZBjZNodZNLEv5XQbxRf5giIwcRsO8nsPCTMTI299a7SevjdFt84q7aMv81/s320/IMG_3861.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">The wheelbarrows that we use to strain out all the artifacts.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizLYgH6Xbt42X84tcZGoa2ibmoM8H6f4d1JuXLja4ylsqex6mMBKplUO-dlhIxqNDbi5IcUniJ-_zqyruRTVLBAUObXGI8jRMbhyphenhyphenQRh-11zJwBBrQC97iCgcw9FVGtpZ6l9kM14FTv7eIV/s1600/IMG_3862.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizLYgH6Xbt42X84tcZGoa2ibmoM8H6f4d1JuXLja4ylsqex6mMBKplUO-dlhIxqNDbi5IcUniJ-_zqyruRTVLBAUObXGI8jRMbhyphenhyphenQRh-11zJwBBrQC97iCgcw9FVGtpZ6l9kM14FTv7eIV/s320/IMG_3862.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">The screens that we use. I could probably make you a set if you want. Nothing here is that fancy/high tech/high quality. </div></i><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Day Seven</b>: Back to the cave. More screening clay through mesh. Finding nothing. Lunch. More screening clay through mesh. Still finding nothing. Then the professors brought us sand with lots of bones in it so that we wouldn't stage a coup. Home. Dinner. Class. Bed. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Day Eight</b>: No cave today! Went to the Allerton Botanical Garden where our TA’s taught us how to make maps and use compasses and pace out steps (totally knew it all from FFA forestry in high school. Who would have thought that I would have ever used those skills again? Not me. It was a realllllll shocker.). Made a (not-so-great) map of grassy place. Lunch on the beach next to sea turtle eggs. Library to “work” on my paper (read as “Facebook in a place with reliable internet”). Home. "Nap"/Watched a documentary on Miss Gay America on Netflix while doing laundry (please note that this is the first time that I have laid down to try to take a nap since getting here and I couldn’t even sleep! <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Who am I turning into???!?!?!</i></b>). Dinner. Totally forgot that we had to go to class. Super bummed when I remembered. Went to class (which was actually our professor giving a talk on his new book at the community center). Home. More homework. Bed. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNaK5KUe-iqtIIy_byjBuSgM-pHGiQosaiy5h_k_eBDQXLpmDGRHP0eA-imchCt3P9J4McHwRg6w-ebTG25Dj3Z4j2oK-8nVetJIvRQvU9Js67Yz7Q8sf1wzg3cvHMneI1siUYFWf5tfDb/s1600/IMG_3866.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNaK5KUe-iqtIIy_byjBuSgM-pHGiQosaiy5h_k_eBDQXLpmDGRHP0eA-imchCt3P9J4McHwRg6w-ebTG25Dj3Z4j2oK-8nVetJIvRQvU9Js67Yz7Q8sf1wzg3cvHMneI1siUYFWf5tfDb/s320/IMG_3866.JPG" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>Where the sea turtles laid their eggs (in the area that is marked off with caution tape)!!!</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Day Nine</b>: Woke up late (and it felt soooo good to be able to sleep in and not have to make a brown paper bag lunch while still half asleep!). Sang “rain, rain go away” to myself as I listened to it pour outside. Realized that blogging a day by day of what I do here makes the time both go really slow and really fast at the same time. Packed up my bag just in case the rain stops and we get to hit up the beach. Cleaned out my purse (which I have not used since I got here). Reorganized all the apps on my phone. Told everyone that I was going to get a <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">COKE</b> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">ICEE</b> at K-Mart. Told my mom that if the <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">COKE ICEE</b> machine was broken I was going to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">freak out</i>. Watched everyone else do homework and decided that maybe, just maybe, I should do the same. Went to K-Mart. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">COKE ICEE</b>. McDonalds fries. Came home. Watched/Dominated Jeopardy. Read. Dinner. More TV game shows. Spoons/Egyptian Rat Screw/Poker night. Bed. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Day Ten</b>: Woke up. Got ready for a hike with members of the community on the Hapa Trail. Got there an hour early. Started the hike. It was easy-breezy. Saw <b>ANOTHER</b> monk seal at the beach! Lunch. Home. Tried to take a nap (<b>FAIL)</b>. Planned an escape plan for tonight because I CANNOT just sit at this house anymore when there is so much to do here on the Garden Island. BLOGGED. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj59sdZHnU7joAdZjoUjw5qgIBg5CL04Y2diXUtGllK1zBRZ5EzI6jHySGh2ZYISZ6CdARPyXWvG78pAr5R1lqH5ITYMv74I6K2zd69C2LacO1-f5SEFj95HekdrDAtbpG1E3Ko9JroEJgT/s1600/IMG_3870.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj59sdZHnU7joAdZjoUjw5qgIBg5CL04Y2diXUtGllK1zBRZ5EzI6jHySGh2ZYISZ6CdARPyXWvG78pAr5R1lqH5ITYMv74I6K2zd69C2LacO1-f5SEFj95HekdrDAtbpG1E3Ko9JroEJgT/s320/IMG_3870.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>Was the hike on all flat ground? Yes. Was it rocky? Not really. Was this guy prepared to climb Mount Everest? Yes he was. And I think that he had Shape-Up hiking shoes. He also had an intense conversation with his wife about the quality of his walking sticks and the grip.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGuHLr1aIsGZFHgObmVVEG3fCsfj3dUJy09saHX-a1cVH1FmULoe8YCESOb57mOiSxJFuM7FCNe12y_bdifM6nYUU0_g9kZOY7nCG6ooWARq19yVhapLhfsWQqwutS3lBj6OjvY9HfFxn1/s1600/IMG_3871.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGuHLr1aIsGZFHgObmVVEG3fCsfj3dUJy09saHX-a1cVH1FmULoe8YCESOb57mOiSxJFuM7FCNe12y_bdifM6nYUU0_g9kZOY7nCG6ooWARq19yVhapLhfsWQqwutS3lBj6OjvY9HfFxn1/s320/IMG_3871.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>What do you do when your wife beater is just a little too long? Make it into a belly shirt <b>DUH</b>!</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD6BSB6KaNczmk22ofdDNYNAPG2xOQGnBNH2k0oPsLsxoYK03NMPNKLne6GQfw2cKvkQRdlMfP41rXhSQdBO-LAml57P5VahVS4Aauy1oizuPAjRW0fqI5bHMVv-heImXMb7aQPnwxbBgp/s1600/IMG_3872.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD6BSB6KaNczmk22ofdDNYNAPG2xOQGnBNH2k0oPsLsxoYK03NMPNKLne6GQfw2cKvkQRdlMfP41rXhSQdBO-LAml57P5VahVS4Aauy1oizuPAjRW0fqI5bHMVv-heImXMb7aQPnwxbBgp/s320/IMG_3872.JPG" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>Monk seal...again! </i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Well that is a little summary of the past few days. OH WAIT! I forgot something BIG... I have decided that I am going to try to run a triathlon. It can't be that bad right (2.4 miles of swimming. 112 miles of biking. 26.2 miles of running.) Training starts when I get back to the mainland. WATCH OUT WORLD!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">(<b>ANDDDD</b> Shout to my <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">DAD</b> for being an avid Cat Cuddlin’ & Cookbook Collectin’ blog reader (even though he neither cuddles cats nor enjoys cookbook collectin’)! <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hi Dad</i>! <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Love you</b> and thank you for being “surprised” with my writing skillz!)</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigtKWAywjpYRG8BiHvvGJpLDgMjzPDOudLUmodEwpTTzFD0RRp5nd6QrG0JVA58LoTmyGxwh706x4Q6LSvseehocjsnMSfyuJ9aCDq3cWrMgTIy10-cLR7kN7TdnB9LdWrKUR0p7V5QALN/s1600/IMG_0626.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigtKWAywjpYRG8BiHvvGJpLDgMjzPDOudLUmodEwpTTzFD0RRp5nd6QrG0JVA58LoTmyGxwh706x4Q6LSvseehocjsnMSfyuJ9aCDq3cWrMgTIy10-cLR7kN7TdnB9LdWrKUR0p7V5QALN/s320/IMG_0626.JPG" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>"Send me to Tracy ASAP! She misses me and I am the cutest cat in the whole wide world!"</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17304496248077729950noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805825839462506977.post-63972877554067544592010-07-13T00:20:00.000-07:002010-07-15T01:45:29.537-07:00I would rather hike UP ten hills than down one.<div class="MsoNormal">Full Day Five is about to come to a close. (I would have posted this last night/earlier today, but the internet here is coming and going as it pleases paying no attention to my blogging needs and your reading desires.) Today was our first real day in the cave doing cave things. You know, digging, screening, pumping out water to actually find artifacts. The usual. Today was also host to our first lecture class. It was interesting… and while I did the reading and I would dare say that I understand the general premise behind each article, I am no where near close to understanding the little details. In most cases I can’t even pronounce the words. And some of the places he was talking about could have been in NeverNeverLand for all that I knew! (For example... there is an island in the Pacific called New Ireland. Who knew? Not this girl!)</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Update of the Field School so far:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Day Two</b>: Went to Shipwrecks Beach and <b>LEI’d</b> (this still cracks me up) out under the hot sun for a bit. While there we watched three very brave souls jump off of a huge rock. <i>MANIACS</i>! Then we returned home where we read fascinating articles, ate dinner, and slept. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu39Uw1KdVhTl4OsSUvlec1r1mui_VkOg8poDV2MKZXvtJzYFEz5j_QSoA-KH4ktN0ofvMWWlW78RJYRzn7M1oJ6H_stBu46YqEIfSCqMAOgOEmiEztNTAaofj9KSaFelk3cmcZYBjHGEG/s1600/IMG_3827.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu39Uw1KdVhTl4OsSUvlec1r1mui_VkOg8poDV2MKZXvtJzYFEz5j_QSoA-KH4ktN0ofvMWWlW78RJYRzn7M1oJ6H_stBu46YqEIfSCqMAOgOEmiEztNTAaofj9KSaFelk3cmcZYBjHGEG/s320/IMG_3827.JPG" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>This is the rock that those crazzzzy guys jumped off of. It might not look far up, but it is. And once you jump you still have to swim back to shore. </i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Day Three</b>: “Field Trip.” That is what they call it. I call it “Hiking Day.” The phrase “field trip” should only be used when referring to a group of elementary kids going to Ferdinand’s in Pullman, Washington to watch a video on how to make cheese and then getting free ice cream cones. <i>This was no Ferdinand’s</i>. Instead our “Field Trip/Hiking Day” was to Limahuli Botanical Gardens where we looked at taro (or as the Hawaiians say “kalo” (must suck not having a “t” or “r” in your alphabet)) beds, native plants, Polynesian species, and invasive plants. We also had to hike into a valley carrying a spiny palm so that it could be planted later. Which is when I realized… I don’t like walking downhill. I would way rather try to climb UP something than make my way down. Even during my high school cross country days (yep… get your laughter out now, I ran cross country in high school for four years…<b>AND I WAS VARSITY ALL FOUR YEAR</b>S!) I hated having to run down hill. Going up is when I passed people. Downhill is scary and momentum is NOT my friend! After “hiking day” was over we came home. Ate. Showered. Slept. Everyone was really excited about the soccer game in the morning so they wanted to be refreshed.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3km8swkhzzCLMEbR6FmQ6lwiJ4fC8llDYJcjQj7h5ae0EFg0E_oMCUY2tX8hx4YUaVjYKxVLuALDwk1wXOsvrpVls-IV-U0kSFnx7VRVfkH871ZeOzcNmYt7Kx7IgGkSE6991h1U5Uicp/s1600/IMG_3833.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3km8swkhzzCLMEbR6FmQ6lwiJ4fC8llDYJcjQj7h5ae0EFg0E_oMCUY2tX8hx4YUaVjYKxVLuALDwk1wXOsvrpVls-IV-U0kSFnx7VRVfkH871ZeOzcNmYt7Kx7IgGkSE6991h1U5Uicp/s320/IMG_3833.JPG" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>The taro/kalo fields. </i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8C5QQja0wr3orO4s9R17SJz646bxQyXNqeDUg1jKKvKAyj8hzePbyqvn8VgDPnXo4ISM7dq_Bdt3MKHUYfho0fCeT52WXCWinT8fL5QZmy__mowEFW2aj3-yE_E8ree2OrumFdof9R_0O/s1600/IMG_3841.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8C5QQja0wr3orO4s9R17SJz646bxQyXNqeDUg1jKKvKAyj8hzePbyqvn8VgDPnXo4ISM7dq_Bdt3MKHUYfho0fCeT52WXCWinT8fL5QZmy__mowEFW2aj3-yE_E8ree2OrumFdof9R_0O/s320/IMG_3841.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>The water fall in the valley that we hiked up. </i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Day Four</b>: Woke up. People watched soccer. Those vuvuzelas sound like a swarm of bees coming to get you. I watched ten minutes. No one scored so I read more articles. Then after a thrilling victory for Spain, we went to the beach. While at the beach we saw not one but <b>TWO</b> endangered species. (<i>Did you know Hawaii has more endangered species than any of the other 50 states?</i>) There was a sea turtle trying to eat in the water. The lifeguards had to announce <i>SEVERAL</i> times to all the snorkelers that they needed to stay 20 feet away. Some people were all up in that poor turtles grill. At one point the lifeguard said through the megaphone “Can you hear this? Is this thing on? I have had to tell ten times to move 20 feet away. You are like three feet. That means you need to move, like, 6 times farther.” Then we saw a monk seal tanning on the beach. It was roped off though so people could not touch it. Came home. Ate. Read more. Bed. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjryMzRVQtiw7nHuXLd34p9YSJDQ-3jCWKH7bX1jPTu8TPWBtPGmytz8K_YaPJziyJXy9lqxKAQ980fZaQ1itI4Mb-i5DoBavDGKfmMYz1WqgzQiops2EbePyFNhjRy7kW4jZlMumF5abmj/s1600/IMG_3845.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjryMzRVQtiw7nHuXLd34p9YSJDQ-3jCWKH7bX1jPTu8TPWBtPGmytz8K_YaPJziyJXy9lqxKAQ980fZaQ1itI4Mb-i5DoBavDGKfmMYz1WqgzQiops2EbePyFNhjRy7kW4jZlMumF5abmj/s320/IMG_3845.JPG" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>You can kind of see the turtle in this picture... but this is the best that I could do from 20 feet away!</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbeRu5qmIeNEOQqjmuhIAObD2qlZcwBh4Cio_xsAW6LWIuBdZhEGkBsMPoELPuytj2ef5sJhALNNmqh4NEV_BZb7WAKVFYrSozj4ypw7OMRg5iU_E620WBLlWczWDb2n2dKE6oS4iW_llk/s1600/IMG_3848.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbeRu5qmIeNEOQqjmuhIAObD2qlZcwBh4Cio_xsAW6LWIuBdZhEGkBsMPoELPuytj2ef5sJhALNNmqh4NEV_BZb7WAKVFYrSozj4ypw7OMRg5iU_E620WBLlWczWDb2n2dKE6oS4iW_llk/s320/IMG_3848.JPG" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>Monk seal living in the dream... besides the whole about to go extinct thing.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Day Five</b>: Woke up. Ate dry cereal and made lunch. Loaded up into the vans and headed out for the cave. Crawled in. Learned to screen sediments and identify artifacts. Screened a bunch of dirt and clay and rocks. Found birds bones, fish bones, the tiniest snail shells (and lots of them), old wood pieces, sea urchin pieces. Walked to the bathroom. Found a skull on the road. Picked it up (I am learning to deal with dead things much better!) and carried it to Dr. B to be identified. He said it was a cat. I nearly cried (I am still upset about this and made note of this in my field journal). Climbed into the new site that we will be working on (I had to wear a helmet and it was a real sketch ladder, but I survived!) Came home. Cooked dinner (I made nasty brown rice (whoever buys bulk bags of brown rice instead of Minute Rice is just silly!), chicken and broccoli...and everyone said that they liked it. Were they being nice? Probably. Did they mean it? Probably not. Did I have to add enough soy sauce that I should never eat salt again to make it taste like something? Yes.). First class (talked about the colonization of Oceania and Lapita Pottery for two hours...Don't ask me to sum up it up). Home. BLOG. Bed soon. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">There is a definite trend to our days. We wake up. Eat. Leave. We come home. Eat. And Sleep. There was some talk about charades last night but no go. Either way, I have a ton of time to Facebook (if the internet isn’t being a little beatch) and to write postcards. The problem is that the time zone change here is so whack that by the time we get back from class it is at least 11PM on the “mainland.” So sorry that I text people at like midnight…my bad!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> To sum up everything so far (and then some pics of the cave!)... <b><i>I AM SURVIVING FAIRLY WELL</i></b>!! But then again, it is day 5... ask me again on day 15!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBqYKGy04PDc8r2ecAm4rWuDPEqoD_YrbxZ85W89ufHfhMeOyJ5ED9NGWwIr2XaDYrDgNwyhmmXZLkA0HkDsIZu2tgQLInIGxZLrWWqdv0zXdl_Wb4xitvt42cX2PQKSpDh9EcKWA59C5p/s1600/IMG_3851.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBqYKGy04PDc8r2ecAm4rWuDPEqoD_YrbxZ85W89ufHfhMeOyJ5ED9NGWwIr2XaDYrDgNwyhmmXZLkA0HkDsIZu2tgQLInIGxZLrWWqdv0zXdl_Wb4xitvt42cX2PQKSpDh9EcKWA59C5p/s320/IMG_3851.JPG" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>From inside the "poor man's time machine"/sinkhole/digging area. </i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis3gloABUWqcf7kXT3ElUuH8qTxbHh_mHRN6GwIP8MMl-VFfnFg-qAZLIfa8EqpKfo8Gy0pPwu-hSmp-qdC9FrZ2nJFJb5n0NtOFxLdQSay00SfxMZSy2soxy6IwlQ7unSonrnqEGlxKjo/s1600/IMG_3856.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis3gloABUWqcf7kXT3ElUuH8qTxbHh_mHRN6GwIP8MMl-VFfnFg-qAZLIfa8EqpKfo8Gy0pPwu-hSmp-qdC9FrZ2nJFJb5n0NtOFxLdQSay00SfxMZSy2soxy6IwlQ7unSonrnqEGlxKjo/s320/IMG_3856.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>This is the little hole that we have to crawl through to get into or out of the site. It involves quiet the technique to get in without bumping your head!</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpnmZLCn7FVA4nDYSoCix1514Xx3IMhIqEiZN_NTVjgP6Ke6P1lRq7Q-p9NcKrygUpnjufNXFUUfWqev5wJggRvd7aFYHk9Hq1DxEhBIoiV1B6lnVkXHqnyPi280-b4ri3juLHWra9YAdC/s1600/IMG_3854.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpnmZLCn7FVA4nDYSoCix1514Xx3IMhIqEiZN_NTVjgP6Ke6P1lRq7Q-p9NcKrygUpnjufNXFUUfWqev5wJggRvd7aFYHk9Hq1DxEhBIoiV1B6lnVkXHqnyPi280-b4ri3juLHWra9YAdC/s320/IMG_3854.JPG" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>Did you know that there was once a commune in the cave?</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">(And shout out to BFF Lauren for finding the most amazing YouTube video ever. If you want to see your favorite childhood cartoon characters and get a <b>GREAT</b> anti-drug message at the same time then this will be the best 27 minutes of your life! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jivU-4xv7aw) </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17304496248077729950noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805825839462506977.post-1587877400147126272010-07-08T19:59:00.000-07:002010-07-08T20:01:43.345-07:00Breaking News: LeBron going to play for the Heat and my skin is white.<i>(I am BIG fan of Craig’s List so this post is being set up in rant/rave style…enjoy!)</i><br />
<br />
<b>Rave</b>: I am <b>IN</b> the house. I have a bed. Did I sleep well in it last night? No. I slept rather poorly. But the point is, I have a bed <b>IN</b> a house. <br />
<b>Rant</b>: If you see me out in the sun and I am not wearing a hat, please do not ask me if I need sunscreen. I know that I am white. Unlike Michael Jackson (RIP) and Sammy Sosa I have had the same skin color for the last 22 years, going on 23. I know that I might burn. However, I sometimes just don’t wear sunscreen and I hate wearing a hat. I do this knowing that I might be a little red, but without that red I will stay white forever. Please do not point this out to me. Again, I KNOW! Which brings up reason #867970 why I LOVE cats: They do not judge the fact that I have skin that is whiter than white and they do not remind me constantly. <br />
<b>Rave</b>: My computer has been unplugged for 24 hours and I haven’t had to charge it !<br />
<b>Rant</b>: I had to wear a hat today.<br />
<b>Rave</b>: I saw the cave for the first time today. It was not at all what I expected it to be, it was still really cool and I did not have to wear a helmet (fingers crossed that it stays that way)! I will take pictures soon so that you can see my new home away from home. <br />
<b>Rant</b>: There is a dead body somewhere in the cave. <br />
<b>Rave</b>: I am in wayyy better shape than I thought after our little hike today, and the food is subpar at best so I better be lookin’ ballin’ after this little adventure! <br />
<b>Rant</b>: Granola bars. Ewwww to the extreme, and they are one of the few things to eat in the house. <br />
<b>Rave</b>: My polio shoes are not as bad as I thought that they would be. I am sorry polio shoes for laughing at you non-stop when I was buying you. <br />
<b>Rant</b>: This is like real school. With lectures, syllabus, quizzes, writing papers, midterms, and a final that is due while I am on PA VACAY TWENTY TEN. So not cool. <br />
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I don’t have any pictures yet (and to be honest, we really haven’t done anything yet) but I am sure that there will be lots to come! And, now that I think about it, I did try to take a picture of these sea turtles that we saw floating in the water below us, but I couldn't zoom in far enough....sorry charlie!<br />
Yesterday: arrived, sat around, watched tv, met people, ate frozen pizza (cooked of course), sat around some more, bed. <br />
Today: woke up, ate dried cereal, drove around, ate a pb&j, hiked a ways (for all you Camp Four Echoers it was basically from Sky Meadow to Smuggs without Thighmaster in mid-July), walked in the waves, came back to the house, BLOGGED!Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17304496248077729950noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805825839462506977.post-915217125556281642010-07-06T21:05:00.000-07:002010-07-19T11:03:08.810-07:00D-Day: Let’s get this digging par-tay started!Well. The program starts tomorrow! Seeing as I am one of the most nervous people on the face of the planet (Once, I literally started to shake and cry before a parliamentary procedure competition in high school) I am starting to freak out just a little bit. I have re-read EVERY e-mail several times (even the one that I got confirming that they got my application). I have packed and re-packed my bag. Everything barely fits and I had to get rid of a quiet a bit to even get it that close. It is GO TIME. <br />
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Best Case Scenario: The program starts in the following way: We play some sweeeet ice breakers and then Dr. B and Dr. H sing “I’ll Make a Man Out of You” from the Disney film <span style="font-style: italic;">Mulan</span> to us because they a) want to scare us b) want us to be ready for anything (including a battle with the Huns) and c) want to remind me (as if I have forgotten) that I have absolutely NO CLUE what I got myself into. (And yes. At some point during the adventure I will walk to the ocean and sing "Reflections") And then everyone wants to be my friend and I am the most popular girl in my class and I have the most comfy bed <span style="font-weight: bold;">IN</span> the house!<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZSS5dEeMX64">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZSS5dEeMX64</a><br />
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Worst Case Scenario: No one likes me. And I have to sleep outside with no tent because I did not bring a tent. And then, as if this all isn’t bad enough, I realize that I forgot something really important. And then a rock falls on my head and the cave implodes on me. <br />
<br />
And just to double-check my packing list:<br />
- work clothes (i.e. shirts (including one from my first NATIONAL BPA convention!) and shorts and socks) <span style="font-weight: bold;">CHECK</span><br />
- party clothes…well I have one nicer top and a pair of overall shorts… so <span style="font-weight: bold;">CHECK</span><br />
- polio/hiking shoes (and I feel oddly ok making that comparison/joke because FDR is my favorite president!) <span style="font-weight: bold;">CHECK</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj36dHKeOeQ0yuy_XoUhFK0CgdmpF8NBsU87xjea0JFu3NJwwiDUjvyqCXxbpup7roS7vc5DtARuUWJPHVXfE_m1uAe7Lqrt5LPnEFuPEi_A_0CGfIr-50rwkC8LlSlGGjWX35eUNCXUaZf/s1600/IMG_0612.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491011665117805282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj36dHKeOeQ0yuy_XoUhFK0CgdmpF8NBsU87xjea0JFu3NJwwiDUjvyqCXxbpup7roS7vc5DtARuUWJPHVXfE_m1uAe7Lqrt5LPnEFuPEi_A_0CGfIr-50rwkC8LlSlGGjWX35eUNCXUaZf/s320/IMG_0612.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 240px;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-style: italic;">yep. these are my shoes. and i did arrange them that way so that you could see all angles. </span><br />
- “lightweight sleeping bag” and a pillow. <span style="font-weight: bold;">CHECK</span><br />
- sunscreen (i don't plan on wearing it, but I have it) <span style="font-weight: bold;">CHECK</span><br />
- iPod (I know that there will be at least one night where all I am going to want to do is curl up and listen to a little J.Bieb while watching <span style="font-style: italic;">Wordplay</span>) <span style="font-weight: bold;">CHECK</span><br />
- textbooks, PDF articles, composition notebooks, mechanical pencils. One very nerdy <span style="font-weight: bold;">CHECK</span><br />
- postcards. And postcard stamps. <span style="font-weight: bold;">CHECK</span> and <span style="font-weight: bold;">CHECK</span><br />
- a rash... <span style="font-weight: bold;">NOPE</span>! good news the rash is gone!! i look normaler again!<br />
- Nalgene water bottles. <span style="font-weight: bold;">CHECK</span><br />
- painted toe nails. <span style="font-weight: bold;">CHECK</span><br />
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I think that I have it all... except this really great giant floral shirt!<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFCqmHKM1Eo1sUO5syZ7WwtjUnPMmOjGQLY06YV8XnaMirkqV2x2ppwV1YngHbM0jl1QotF-jLgHLqFssWd-HqHOl263M7tpUbGMFBKp3vZjOQgK-xhl_tWtMTodOg4csMo4tzp_JHt7jv/s1600/IMG_0611.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491012141658620578" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFCqmHKM1Eo1sUO5syZ7WwtjUnPMmOjGQLY06YV8XnaMirkqV2x2ppwV1YngHbM0jl1QotF-jLgHLqFssWd-HqHOl263M7tpUbGMFBKp3vZjOQgK-xhl_tWtMTodOg4csMo4tzp_JHt7jv/s320/IMG_0611.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 240px;" /></a><br />
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And...as my final farewell before I enter the "poor man's time machine" (what one of the professors call the cave) I want to leave you with this photo. <span style="font-weight: bold;">WISH ME LUCK!!<span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span> Let's be honest... we all know that I am going to need LOTZ of it!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhftapbaGwZpqDas5uEiS9JmZvN97ZTceTucm4myBxZ6b2U2SU8XDM-2xDMnqtZ1cqPCHRASDuvy2HxB0-StkCId-dLwfnYrmAfgtx0ZP5nxZxjEmJsximJ5U3bF4ITzdzCLlX5wi9PHTHD/s1600/IMG_0613.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491012841755604338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhftapbaGwZpqDas5uEiS9JmZvN97ZTceTucm4myBxZ6b2U2SU8XDM-2xDMnqtZ1cqPCHRASDuvy2HxB0-StkCId-dLwfnYrmAfgtx0ZP5nxZxjEmJsximJ5U3bF4ITzdzCLlX5wi9PHTHD/s320/IMG_0613.JPG" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-style: italic;">I found this little tiny paper flag at the pool and I immediately ran back to the house, got Koa, put the flag in the ground, pulled up some grass, and then took this patriotic and inspiring photo. And I did it all in a wet swimsuit with my hair all over the place. You're welcome!</span>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17304496248077729950noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805825839462506977.post-45157935496073408672010-07-05T23:08:00.000-07:002010-07-05T23:18:47.775-07:00Reason #867969 Why I LOVE Cats: I do not like mice/rats/rodents of any kind.Fun Fact #1: When I was in…oh let’s say...7th grade my family went to Hawaii with some of my dad’s friends for a little vacay. We stayed in this old house that was once part of one of the sugar cane plantations that raped the land of Kaua’i (it was the manager’s house… and I do not condone slavery in any way shape or form, but my mom made the reservations so talk to her). One night while dinner was being made (it was stir fry night (you have no idea how vivid this memory is in my mind)) I was in the kitchen “helping” and a mouse ran out from under the fridge across the floor to under the oven. <span style="font-weight:bold;">I FREAKED THE F OUT!</span> I climbed on one of the barstools and proceed to scream as loud as I could b/c that was clearly going to help the situation. <span style="font-style:italic;">EVERY SINGLE</span> time I walked in the kitchen after that I would stomp my feet, sing real loud, and scream at that wretched little brown mouse to stay away. (And once I almost lost a job offer at a summer camp b/c I told the director that I was scared of mice and could not work indoors b/c of it…lesson learned on what not to do in a job interview.)<br /><br />Fun Fact #2: One of the cave’s big claim to fame (at least in the Anthro world) is that a fraction of a Pacific Rat (<span style="font-style:italic;">Rattus Exulans</span> for you rat nerds) pelvis was found in the cave that proved that humans had really come to the island much earlier than was originally thought and that is why the birds started to go extinct because the rats ate the trees blah blah yada yada. Excuse me! That is no good for this girl! Add to my hate for rodents my hate for dead things in general and we might have a problem on our hands. <br /><br />Fun Fact #3: I do not like birds. There are a lot of bird bones in this cave also. In fact, one of the original researchers of this cave is a bird expert in every sense of the word. Legend has it that if you hand him a bird bone behind his back he can identify it with no problems. And he worked at the one of the Smithsonian Museums! What did I sign up for!?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">BUT</span> I do like snails. There are a lot of snail fossils in the cave. On day numero uno I am going to volunteer to be the “Snail Girl” and deal exclusively with the snails. My credentials for this position: I used to have a collection of snails at my fort until my dad logged the area and ruined all of my hard work and research. (I tried to rebuild but it was never the same.) <br /><br />Obvs this has the potential to be a huge disaster. But the good news is that I think that I finally have everything that I need to survive. Still, rumor has is that I might have to sleep in a tent…HA! I will make some really close new friends (if you know what I am saying) if that is the case. <br /><br />(P.S. I know that you are all wondering how to say "Happy Birthday America" in Hawaiian. Well... it is "Hau’oli la hanau Amelika." And in honor of the fourth I watched fireworks on the beach. Tried to go to a roller derby scrimmage (long story short, but there were like four ladies at some red dirt outdoor basketball court). Walked a 2K at 6:30AM. Went to a carnival type thing (minus the rides and cotton candy). And today (the 5th of July!) we snorkeled and then I napped. OH and there was a Golden Girls marathon on TWO CHANNELS!! I did not even know what to do with myself.) <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbi7qIG_GBzp2ItdJB6EC7G3lGOmJp0A45coTGs3is2t02kb13Wuuvq30YKwdUGKJoyU1HdluToKuIAXOSRmCipjWjKjl39vWIudK8YIQjjZIVPwWWtTiAD3WqfYR1hIHocLOoCP4r-lW0/s1600/IMG_0598.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbi7qIG_GBzp2ItdJB6EC7G3lGOmJp0A45coTGs3is2t02kb13Wuuvq30YKwdUGKJoyU1HdluToKuIAXOSRmCipjWjKjl39vWIudK8YIQjjZIVPwWWtTiAD3WqfYR1hIHocLOoCP4r-lW0/s320/IMG_0598.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490673534895652866" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Tiki man at the pool!</span>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17304496248077729950noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805825839462506977.post-10215325754650083062010-07-03T22:06:00.000-07:002010-07-03T22:42:06.606-07:00Best Friend. Soul Mate. Lover. Koa: My WarriorThere he was lying on the beach getting a little sun. He immediately caught my eye. And not to brag, but I caught his. My body: red like a freshly boiled lobster (still got that rash and added a sunburn to the rest of me). His body: plastic and the same color blue as a hypothermia victim’s lips. Love. At. First Sight. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJar79GhR3D_Q96R_y6G-hrF7NF3L_8-Bey_AVF7WyUU4AQrQTbxR_w9McGSFRna_HrWKzRfc87MXB7sE3WXdiGUzGPlOn-g8j7QpplknW5tL84gm4W34B14FgySNpblkePPROwVkflR2P/s1600/IMG_1271.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJar79GhR3D_Q96R_y6G-hrF7NF3L_8-Bey_AVF7WyUU4AQrQTbxR_w9McGSFRna_HrWKzRfc87MXB7sE3WXdiGUzGPlOn-g8j7QpplknW5tL84gm4W34B14FgySNpblkePPROwVkflR2P/s320/IMG_1271.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489913907818606738" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">My little Army man! </span><br /><br />I named him <span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-weight:bold;">Koa</span></span> (which means warrior in Hawaiian (which brings up some very exciting news: I got a Hawaiian/English dictionary! <span style="font-weight:bold;">BILINGUAL BABY!</span>))<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2yG3xtQAdLkOT5uWpJRaC8pAIo5un3MO9VGi5rtzHQpQDkS10JJJW1kMr-PnOzxNrNdmxmsI6p1l-k3mpWReOcbWZdTF5jWsMVxSUYD-uatvA9DDUWysDQnG0vDMEOdkWNYu2IPUls75C/s1600/IMG_1263.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2yG3xtQAdLkOT5uWpJRaC8pAIo5un3MO9VGi5rtzHQpQDkS10JJJW1kMr-PnOzxNrNdmxmsI6p1l-k3mpWReOcbWZdTF5jWsMVxSUYD-uatvA9DDUWysDQnG0vDMEOdkWNYu2IPUls75C/s320/IMG_1263.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489914711190461682" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Bad news though: Koa has crabs (just kidding… he is perfect and <span style="font-weight:bold;">STI FREE</span>!)</span><br /><br />Koa loves to be by the ocean so you better be expecting lots and lots of updates on Koa and I. He is going to be like my little “Where’s Waldo?” in all future pictures!<br /><br />PRE KOA COMING INTO MY LIFE UPDATE:<br />- Went to the Lihue shopping center yesterday (and I resisted the <span style="font-weight:bold;">COKE ICEE</span> that awaited me up the street at K-Mart (pat on the back!)) and saw a Hula contest. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgofjK3d3g3X1l0qShssIg6W8RPQaT4TJffzT5CVta-ct5eq91gzS7HwyxmuzhpLXZcRaPo1owlT5i9skIbm8XJA-TjagaKLib_2OwrWpMHnUPHWW8SLR630Y76Jel-MADmLaWiuZw97ejI/s1600/IMG_0600.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgofjK3d3g3X1l0qShssIg6W8RPQaT4TJffzT5CVta-ct5eq91gzS7HwyxmuzhpLXZcRaPo1owlT5i9skIbm8XJA-TjagaKLib_2OwrWpMHnUPHWW8SLR630Y76Jel-MADmLaWiuZw97ejI/s320/IMG_0600.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489915003730036450" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">This is the MC. He held that little dog the entire time that he was presenting the dancers. </span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-yfuBKmFtAK7WulkdI3UeuGGNwRENd5050NNWnylT7bwd0Kyd19dF78I9h9O_sHtPpQaS6kAWtcsXm1tTEdGqvk5AHi53yn3BQT9elQxdiDHxE_5VaCXXGjsEU98u5iV6NJvsSyy0aRyi/s1600/IMG_1232.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-yfuBKmFtAK7WulkdI3UeuGGNwRENd5050NNWnylT7bwd0Kyd19dF78I9h9O_sHtPpQaS6kAWtcsXm1tTEdGqvk5AHi53yn3BQT9elQxdiDHxE_5VaCXXGjsEU98u5iV6NJvsSyy0aRyi/s320/IMG_1232.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489915501953807362" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">The Hula-ers!</span><br /><br />- Went to an art walk (where I found my new dictionary (or as the Natives say <span style="font-style:italic;">“puke wehewehe ‘ole-lo”</span>))<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh19d9IPq1CCjvXZsijTuUrq4XhuXSJ6014_ehLMb8V9x-8R7YO6wIOYAxqSGwbqq2MXftOW0YWOULa6uFMxUgq1Nyau05kjMjlNb-ZefRSKN539YRZWk4FH3LIcu7tt6KO2jyTUfF4aL5L/s1600/IMG_1233.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh19d9IPq1CCjvXZsijTuUrq4XhuXSJ6014_ehLMb8V9x-8R7YO6wIOYAxqSGwbqq2MXftOW0YWOULa6uFMxUgq1Nyau05kjMjlNb-ZefRSKN539YRZWk4FH3LIcu7tt6KO2jyTUfF4aL5L/s320/IMG_1233.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489916048632740018" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">There was also this man playing Elvis/Johnny Cash/country music outside of the bookstore. </span><br /><br />- My mom just photoshopped a picture of her face over mine. It is too creepy to post on even this blog. We need more things to do. <br /> <br />- Played in the waves today. Nearly got swept to sea. Got sand in places that sand should never go. <br /><br />- Still reading articles about “sweet potatoes”, “carbon dating”, “avian extinction due to habitat loss caused by pacific rats” and more "interesting" archaeology things. (blahhhhhh borrrrrrrrring)<br /><br />- Wrote a bunch of stuff in the sand. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXZDcm181Oeezge_opNZVEXsruahTWCk6pMoMdy64ZuTyOr1e6TRv4IlHPm728nlonYUnweH2HulqKgzne3i1spERYWQ7A_yn-5DQf3SaT2QKXAhCSOa0TodKw0TFsER6dLM4RjVGN4kMk/s1600/IMG_1258.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXZDcm181Oeezge_opNZVEXsruahTWCk6pMoMdy64ZuTyOr1e6TRv4IlHPm728nlonYUnweH2HulqKgzne3i1spERYWQ7A_yn-5DQf3SaT2QKXAhCSOa0TodKw0TFsER6dLM4RjVGN4kMk/s320/IMG_1258.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489917143944973794" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Don't we all!</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc0fuRHAoOEmwinnV7nuhlwKzFjmaSvnBU9tdE0tnhMhWH2NmaWViirvFbghuXNPLZLCpNXiNKxPh9kDnU90nQ2m_do-in00PueEhMG10g016A07qw_Pv7uTcglpOTIDcHCcf72UxPVslx/s1600/IMG_1261.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc0fuRHAoOEmwinnV7nuhlwKzFjmaSvnBU9tdE0tnhMhWH2NmaWViirvFbghuXNPLZLCpNXiNKxPh9kDnU90nQ2m_do-in00PueEhMG10g016A07qw_Pv7uTcglpOTIDcHCcf72UxPVslx/s320/IMG_1261.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489918123046408946" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">This is going to be the next cover of The Trident. Wait for it. </span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUhx2JQh_2JLjuQR1T0co3aM61mwu60GYx-eguZZBa28kj08FE8oe40LM4CoIVnrM34VDRVy3f3p3Ope1BCDI88BFDlNBJSwTfVAWkL1uBTV_ebZVGcqCT09I78zLz4cKqa_y3iMMk3UNq/s1600/IMG_1260.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUhx2JQh_2JLjuQR1T0co3aM61mwu60GYx-eguZZBa28kj08FE8oe40LM4CoIVnrM34VDRVy3f3p3Ope1BCDI88BFDlNBJSwTfVAWkL1uBTV_ebZVGcqCT09I78zLz4cKqa_y3iMMk3UNq/s320/IMG_1260.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489918848263882482" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Watch out Pennsylvania!</span><br /><br />-Found some weird alien signals in the sand. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6zJQ6BANfezmYHVXuy7ZFY_NesvCbC3GX8RNRtsyeuYq69w0qaUCEVXcx2OrgWiW-PY3tnEf672mVO9FAYV0H3ZNpnCSdB20wHRt4o-ptz6u7ugK_DvscuHIjuSUkcuMjJ2tv6v7nuU0k/s1600/IMG_1255.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6zJQ6BANfezmYHVXuy7ZFY_NesvCbC3GX8RNRtsyeuYq69w0qaUCEVXcx2OrgWiW-PY3tnEf672mVO9FAYV0H3ZNpnCSdB20wHRt4o-ptz6u7ugK_DvscuHIjuSUkcuMjJ2tv6v7nuU0k/s320/IMG_1255.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489919488465753330" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Will Smith Tribute: "Men In Black" meets "Independence Day" on the beaches of Kaua'i.</span><br /><br />-Went to a farmers market and got some veggies and fruits, and then we went to a beach made of glass. <br /><br />- I made my own lei and then got a giant iced tea from McDonald's.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy-23QGaKagAmFbaXhiOihQOAKP9H-ducTT8rtzCbr4DkfHINmNpPjDikUCRv6ffZ3gWAQ3OkyWs1058bmccw2pK5JRG8NNMCMW-W17nv7-DOfIJU_fqTFUINKlNUy3A-F6mkuL0hU-xAQ/s1600/IMG_0595.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy-23QGaKagAmFbaXhiOihQOAKP9H-ducTT8rtzCbr4DkfHINmNpPjDikUCRv6ffZ3gWAQ3OkyWs1058bmccw2pK5JRG8NNMCMW-W17nv7-DOfIJU_fqTFUINKlNUy3A-F6mkuL0hU-xAQ/s320/IMG_0595.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489919722759085394" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"> My lei!</span><br /> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidGwQdMUwSt5PWqxOCIS-YcEjvSznKtCsaB7wvE9KQoi3GX6VBjR-SbjhDF1tl5cUiBjDt2MxJLGxENz7gzF-wm6tYwTOBOQ9zYknx66yet8_tuqY2r70LncOSBwZBIPEGOXblncoMVJ5n/s1600/IMG_1228.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidGwQdMUwSt5PWqxOCIS-YcEjvSznKtCsaB7wvE9KQoi3GX6VBjR-SbjhDF1tl5cUiBjDt2MxJLGxENz7gzF-wm6tYwTOBOQ9zYknx66yet8_tuqY2r70LncOSBwZBIPEGOXblncoMVJ5n/s320/IMG_1228.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489920244790194002" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Strolling on the beach and found some kitty footprints.</span><br /><br />- And the day ended with my mom telling me a vagina joke.Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17304496248077729950noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805825839462506977.post-66177680227496138352010-07-02T00:02:00.000-07:002010-07-19T11:02:06.256-07:00Why yes! That is a rash on my chest, but I am still beautiful on the inside.It is unexplainable, but sometimes when I get a little bit of sun on my chest (and I am talking about real, straight from the sky sun (not tanning bed sun)) I get this rash. It is an itchy, big, red bumpy blob. It is my cross to bear. Well… as I was complaining about this rash looking real ugly, my mom (bless her heart) turns to me and says “You’re beautiful on the inside.” AND THEN SHE STARTS TO LAUGH and has to leave the room to regain composure. Thanks a lot MOM! You birthed me and you can’t even say with a straight face that I am “beautiful on the inside” (which is already one of the biggest insults you can give a person). Aloha to you too. <br />
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And that is how my day started. But even with that small set back today was not half bad. My loving mother woke me up at 6AM for a beach walk. We shopped a little. I got another <span style="font-weight: bold;">COKE ICEE</span> and then I napped for four hours (oops!) because I had to take a Benadryl for my rash. Then we made Pina Colada’s (and drank them out of coffee mugs) and went to dinner where there was this local band playing their ukuleles! And even though I could not understand one word that they were saying it was very nice and soothing (comparable to baby making music).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhazHSyF47mI3fhYZQKxz8J1m-8K4FHcMyaIvsXnk6oUQaPGzNw5MzX7wmMo592YnGUfU6Icx3ZmQDUVrAZFoCMIRIpZ8NYlvrNVpg5ZzeWk2BoXe-R4_qMZAxjejwKjshrNUTB8blMUrtE/s1600/IMG_0594.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489201129023260498" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhazHSyF47mI3fhYZQKxz8J1m-8K4FHcMyaIvsXnk6oUQaPGzNw5MzX7wmMo592YnGUfU6Icx3ZmQDUVrAZFoCMIRIpZ8NYlvrNVpg5ZzeWk2BoXe-R4_qMZAxjejwKjshrNUTB8blMUrtE/s320/IMG_0594.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 240px;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-style: italic;">As you look at this photo, please have this song playing in the background. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HohpvGeLw70">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HohpvGeLw70 </a></span><br />
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Oh! And last night I found the Hallmark Channel on the television (channel 63!) right as <span style="font-weight: bold;">Golden Girls</span> was on! It was pretty much the greatest thing ever. In fact, while it was on I totally forgot that I was having a rash situation. That is how happy Blanche (RIP), Dorothy (RIP), Rose (stay strong GF), and Sophia (RIP) make me! <br />
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(And a shout out to my sister Sarah from STL for following my blog! DELTA/BLOGGER LOVE!)Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17304496248077729950noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805825839462506977.post-84644901009550289492010-06-30T23:16:00.000-07:002010-06-30T23:46:02.237-07:00Macy’s, Salvation Army, Coke Icee: This is Still America After All!The first complete day in the Aloha State is coming to a close! But first a wrap up of yesterday: Mom and I made it to the “cottage” last night around 10PM Hawaii time…which is 1AM Idaho time! I had to dump out my entire suitcase to find my pj’s and then I hit the hay while watching one of my favorite movies, <span style="font-style:italic;">Wordplay</span>. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig3ofF2C4LxHJS6fDitpJCYB9cpjSrBCCWFLffd1CjRCcL7hOLlZn17l1mIeO-Sauuh6RtUzS1yeU3kbcYHTfYgznbLwFfd0Gqmy-5Cng8gQIqDXEmsr6XxbOrgzoOXmw8LVZ_ngFjNnm7/s1600/IMG_0578.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig3ofF2C4LxHJS6fDitpJCYB9cpjSrBCCWFLffd1CjRCcL7hOLlZn17l1mIeO-Sauuh6RtUzS1yeU3kbcYHTfYgznbLwFfd0Gqmy-5Cng8gQIqDXEmsr6XxbOrgzoOXmw8LVZ_ngFjNnm7/s320/IMG_0578.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488818449454524834" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Our meal on the flight came with a prayer and a flower. I tried to take a really pretty/artsy photo with my phone. Obvs that didn't work.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD3JNziQpmG1twjvaOl7soWdUfaG57wakVFrJnHQrzUKLLKNhnk7A9hdQW7JELTKAhmB_rEkQb5MwP72X3Wnzh86go7qYHWs0ZNoIS-R-YCi6Cic347A4O7GlZzZR52mL5meqcROb-pVs1/s1600/IMG_0584.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD3JNziQpmG1twjvaOl7soWdUfaG57wakVFrJnHQrzUKLLKNhnk7A9hdQW7JELTKAhmB_rEkQb5MwP72X3Wnzh86go7qYHWs0ZNoIS-R-YCi6Cic347A4O7GlZzZR52mL5meqcROb-pVs1/s320/IMG_0584.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488818970290504994" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Mai Tai's on the plane!</span><br /><br />And then I woke up. Thank you very much Mr. Rooster for helping me with that one (and he didn't even wake me up singing some song from <span style="font-style:italic;">Rock-A-Doodle-Doo</span>). There are wild chickens and cocks (had to) running around all over this island (including in the K-Mart parking lot) and they are not afraid to make their voices heard no matter time in the morning it is. Sooo pleasant!<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">***FUN FACT: We are staying in Kekaha (“the place” in Hawaiian) which is the home of Hawaii’s first (and according to Wikipedia, only) train robbery! The thief was a fisherman who liked Western movies and wanted to copy them. Learn something new everyday!***</span><br /><br />When I finally got out of bed my mom was more than ready to start the day, which included the following: Salvation Army in Hanapepe. WalMart. Salvation Army in Lihue. K-Mart. Macy’s. Taco Bell. While each of these stops was memorable the BEST parts of the day were:<br />-The recipe that I found for Garbage Soup submitted by Phyllis Diller in a cookbook with recipes from friends of Mamie and Dwight Eisenhower. Who would have thought that Mamie and Ike where so close to Phyllis.<br />-Not seeing any honeymooning couples committing excessive PDA right in front of me<br />-Seeing a lookalike of my car (His name is Carlos. He is a green Honda CRV and he is everywhere. They must have made like 800,000 of him just for the state of Idaho!)<br />- <span style="font-weight:bold;">COKE ICEE </span>from the Little Caesars in K-Mart!<br /><br /> Then we came back home and relaxed by the pool while I was forced to read scholarly articles about “sites”, “formation processes”, and “archaeological records.” Dinner. Sunset on the beach. And of course BLOGGGING.<br /><br />Ignore the fact that my hair does not like this weather and that I was unable to find any funny cat postcards (yet!) I would say that you have yourself a pretty good day! And here are some pics of that day!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK0YFdp6g-twdv-vJ0F8fWh8zkQJcCd6w57JKtqkmBjG3hhgSjOZ_Ei_zB0DltHTN532Dyp9QuaWXpg_4P1rP3tEYFJeZ1LlW9WF-pJXgtiN7gWmMqFt36G4jt0HDn2KUW_eM4-Sc6rq9I/s1600/IMG_3799.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK0YFdp6g-twdv-vJ0F8fWh8zkQJcCd6w57JKtqkmBjG3hhgSjOZ_Ei_zB0DltHTN532Dyp9QuaWXpg_4P1rP3tEYFJeZ1LlW9WF-pJXgtiN7gWmMqFt36G4jt0HDn2KUW_eM4-Sc6rq9I/s320/IMG_3799.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488822179563288946" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Lobster dinner!! (while walking on the beach I found all of these pieces and then put them together. And we didn't have lobster. We had tuna.)</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTBf9pTc9ndYwm2D09y6oI40rwQbEovTPzpewfqsvOp0WSRAtDiwDQFSHg84Y9bL2KMeOMASfwyZE0c2LDJYq3pO7yBFNVRbX_o1OXWCJSkVvggF3aI0Y5YQAJxIauGL5q7ED7UywgOVEX/s1600/IMG_3797.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTBf9pTc9ndYwm2D09y6oI40rwQbEovTPzpewfqsvOp0WSRAtDiwDQFSHg84Y9bL2KMeOMASfwyZE0c2LDJYq3pO7yBFNVRbX_o1OXWCJSkVvggF3aI0Y5YQAJxIauGL5q7ED7UywgOVEX/s320/IMG_3797.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488822662165104946" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I found this shoe and my heart started to break for the little girl that lost it. And then I felt extra bad for her because I bet that her mom was really upset with her. </span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO-Delnx8EeJcZzQAx6Q8sIpuoXh79D-zVLDAccgSIIqtL52RuFT8tX3rRJLMVGtq5Ez2c4hIJMGam9Ed7O6ZHaZhSMRqNK8qA49JRoV4buZTLHzwgidIeVJgmOaqLzm3j9umN01RHx7a6/s1600/IMG_0592.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO-Delnx8EeJcZzQAx6Q8sIpuoXh79D-zVLDAccgSIIqtL52RuFT8tX3rRJLMVGtq5Ez2c4hIJMGam9Ed7O6ZHaZhSMRqNK8qA49JRoV4buZTLHzwgidIeVJgmOaqLzm3j9umN01RHx7a6/s320/IMG_0592.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488823185084471746" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I really like this postcard b/c I think that Hawaiian shirts are really funny! </span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaVfYaGZ9joO6ut5Omypgd7xRGO58FiVURmnVcIXUWgDr1pvuVx_JXWF2LeKJhyRgnRTxquHEzJev37GT09aXLUupYN5m9DD06B99OJvyXlAaKzgMM2RyRVDJdlE9mia0i_DHy2dkoZD9a/s1600/IMG_1213.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaVfYaGZ9joO6ut5Omypgd7xRGO58FiVURmnVcIXUWgDr1pvuVx_JXWF2LeKJhyRgnRTxquHEzJev37GT09aXLUupYN5m9DD06B99OJvyXlAaKzgMM2RyRVDJdlE9mia0i_DHy2dkoZD9a/s320/IMG_1213.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488823923928362770" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Sunset on the beach.</span>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17304496248077729950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805825839462506977.post-57310834578113563902010-06-29T13:58:00.000-07:002010-06-30T18:02:01.933-07:00Gettin’ LEID on the LEIover to Lihue, Kaua’i, HawaiiSeattle, Washington: the Emerald City. Home of the Space Needle, the Udub Huskies, Fraiser and me for the next four hours. It has been quite an eventful adventure just getting to this location and the day is nowhere near complete. <br /><br />The day started early this morning with a family breakfast, a couple episodes of the Golden Girls and then a quick little jaunt to the Moscow/Pullman airport where my mom and I checked in and then proceed to check out this dude with a beard, a sleeping bag and a backpack singing to himself. Come to find out when we boarded the flight that he is also sitting in aisle 13 RIGHT ACROSS FROM US! Don’t fret though, being in small cramped quarters did not stop him from continuing to sing/talk to himself. “Dude with headphones” (as he affectionately was known by my mom and me) also copied EVERY SINGLE MOVE that the flight attendants, Vernon and Andrea, did in their safety presentation. This resulted in me LOLing the entire time and telling everyone near me “I am going to blog about this!” “Dude with headphones” had to go to the lavatory in the middle of the flight. He used this as an opportunity to get a little workout in and did lunges down the aisle. More LOLing. Oh. And I forgot to mention that he was wearing <span style="font-weight:bold;">CAMO SHORTS</span>. Picture it. It is everything you imagine and more. (PLEASE cross your fingers that he will be in the cave with me...it would make the helmet and the chance of finding rodent bones TOTALLY worth it!).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE0THS1A_lpvCbUYzaqYBHrZOOoedIgq-McLXvTvL1B_CZi-nwHiXSszhxRziXJjtSxddwjJFUS_qv0caE9QeGAjdSIRQ7avIwlPHHAhkePUuGxRPMZIxG4ZJxs6FGKgTqa0UGvsnexI2l/s1600/IMG_0575.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE0THS1A_lpvCbUYzaqYBHrZOOoedIgq-McLXvTvL1B_CZi-nwHiXSszhxRziXJjtSxddwjJFUS_qv0caE9QeGAjdSIRQ7avIwlPHHAhkePUuGxRPMZIxG4ZJxs6FGKgTqa0UGvsnexI2l/s320/IMG_0575.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488304702655664370" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">The crossword puzzle that was in the Horizon magazine. It was really hard and my pen kept smudging. I gave up eventually. </span><br /><br />So. More about Vernon and Andrea b/c they were also quite the couple. Literally. They were married. When we first took off, Vernon (who wore the pants in the relationship and controlled the PA system) announced “I am Vernon and with me is my lovely wife and flying partner Andrea.” This resulted in me writing “mile high club everyday” on my sudoku puzzle. (Word to the wise: if you are ever on a flight with Vernon and Andrea try to get your drink from Vernon b/c he will give you the whole can of Diet Coke. Andrea is stingy and only gives you the glass.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggTLpgLagl9jQsc9MeRvmoiZQfpbnWp5A4H7VXKTYlgZTsRgoEd8r-zGBz4sKc8BroGjOKOkUQM3U5b4wsSgueU0xwZK2cx23oatFphSRy7r6f_etV_NA1KkUuF95FlJezA57nxzGsx6HS/s1600/IMG_0577.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggTLpgLagl9jQsc9MeRvmoiZQfpbnWp5A4H7VXKTYlgZTsRgoEd8r-zGBz4sKc8BroGjOKOkUQM3U5b4wsSgueU0xwZK2cx23oatFphSRy7r6f_etV_NA1KkUuF95FlJezA57nxzGsx6HS/s320/IMG_0577.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488305152832483362" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">FREE wine and Northwest Nibbles!</span><br /><br />And now we are off the plane (for awhile) and chillaxin' in the Alaska Board Room drinking G&T’s and Bloody Mary’s (well I am drinking a Bloody Mary that does NOT have the whole jigger of vodka in it...thanks mom for placing that order.) I might get some chowda later. Life is good. <br /><br />P.S. I apologize now that no blog title will ever compare to this one. Sorry.Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17304496248077729950noreply@blogger.com4