tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-72267527958458910652024-02-07T22:24:36.912-05:00Mercurial Ramblings of the Human MindHannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.comBlogger88125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-890054057038078522013-04-23T16:11:00.000-04:002013-04-23T16:11:04.273-04:00Recap!!Wow, it's been a long time. Yes, it's me: Hannah. Let's take a couple minutes to wipe of all the dust that has accumulated in the last four months here!<br />
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Now that that has been taken care of, let's catch up. How have you been? I must admit that I am shocked at the amount of page views that we get per day, even still..after all this time.. you all are amazing!! And me? Well, I've been a bit busy to say the least. I am happy to announce that I will be attending <a href="http://www.grace.edu/" target="_blank">Grace College and Theological Seminary</a> in the fall - whoohoo!! Now, I know what you all are really hoping I will talk about..what has God showed me in the past six months? Okay, if you insist. </div>
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He has been tugging at my heart, teaching me the beauty of a life completely abandoned to the glory of God. He has taught me the beauty of a life that is wasted in the eyes of this world, but wholly complete in the eyes of Jesus. What does it mean to life fully?</div>
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It means to notice the beauty is the small things in life....</div>
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It means choosing joy when death seems to be all around....</div>
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It means that it is okay to let go....</div>
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It means that living life purely for oneself and one's own pleasure truly is a WASTED life....</div>
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It means sacrificing daily....</div>
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It means standing up for those who are broken....</div>
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It means choosing to stand between life and death....</div>
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.......until the battle is won.</div>
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Blessings,</div>
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Hannah</div>
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Hannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-57081645444322123272013-01-19T13:05:00.000-05:002013-01-19T13:05:21.842-05:00Esther Teaches How to Draw Still LifeHello everybody!<br />
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As you all know, I am an accomplished arter. My arting skills are the top of the chain. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just look at that ... thing.</td></tr>
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Why, for example, Leonardo da Vinci just complimented me on my marvelous fruit fly picture the other day. Anyway, Blogger isn't letting me upload any of my great pictures to show you from my computer .... so I guess I can't give you an example. It's a shame that my arting skills will remain undiscovered.<br />
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Wait!<br />
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<em>*Rushes to grab a pencil* </em><br />
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I can <em>show </em>you my mad arting skills via video! (For some reason, and I kid you not, Blogger will let me do that.)<br />
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Let's see. Since you are all novices, I need to think of something easy to show you how to draw. Ah, I know! Still life! I'll show you how to draw a flower or something. Do you like flowers? Good! In this video, I'll show you how to draw a flower vase.<br />
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m-y7AHON8Q8" target="_blank">Link to video here!</a><br />
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I hope that you found my video most informative. Until next time!<br />
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Esther<br />
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<br />Hannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-37696606607565822272013-01-15T21:59:00.003-05:002013-01-15T21:59:51.698-05:00Stream of Consciousness -- Once More!Hello everyone! I just realized that it would be such a terrible shame if this blog lost momentum again. That would be so nasty. Kind of like what you'd imagine Godzilla's dirty laundry to smell like. Anywho, I can't think of anything to post, so I just thought I would make this up as I go along. You know, write whatever's on my mind.<br />
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While the first thing that popped into my mind was a brain floating in a pickle jar, the image quickly changed to two ballerinas dancing over the Alaskan tundra. Neither of those are particularly interesting converstation starters, I guess. I've never been good with conversation. Because of this, I generally let people approach me first. I will only approach someone first for a conversation if <br />
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1) Said someone is family<br />
2) Said someone is a friend<br />
3) Said someone is a talking lizard<br />
4) Said someone is a very attractive member of the opposite sex.<br />
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Of course, 4 can only go so far. There is a certain threshold of cuteness, you see. If a boy is <em>too </em>cute, my brain shuts down and all I can do is giggle and gargle in his general direction. Like, I took my siblings out to Hardees for lunch, and I saw this really hunky army guy. Dang, was he a catch. We like <em>totally </em>made eye contact while I was getting lemonade from the fountain drink machine. But I couldn't say anything. He could have been my soul mate, darn it. Alas, it wasn't meant to be. So I drove off into the sunset, cursing my misfortune.<br />
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Speaking of cursing, apparently I can't drive without cursing at least once. I need to fix that. My issue will probably dwindle as my driving skills increase, and I therefore collide into less objects. <br />
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When I said "objects", I thought of a wind-up music box. What do you think when you hear the word "object"? It's interesting how the human mind works. Everyone thinks differently. Scratch that. Most people think the same. For example, when I mentioned that there was a cute army guy earlier you probably imagined a tall, muscular lad with blond hair wearing camouflage fatigues. Not that it's bad that people think the same. It would be nice if we were all on the same page. <br />
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Speaking of pages, if I had a green tiger that would be really cool. I would be like, "Dude, I have a green tiger." And everyone would be jealous and wish that their tigers were green. But even better, I want an armadillo lizard. I mean, look at them!<br />
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<img height="198" id="il_fi" src="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQebzLAY6Y7EuHpe33SFzn0VYuOXsj8zBWKRgWFdgUWx5zmYSDQ6QV5Mpl_" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="255" /><br />
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I would name my lizard <span class="st"><strong>Amontillado. </strong>Everyone will be jealous that their exotic armadillo lizards aren't named <strong>Amontillado. </strong>I think that Amontillado should be our resident animal mascot. </span><br />
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<span class="st">SLOSHY THE KAPPA: Hey! What about me?</span><br />
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<span class="st">Sloshy, you're our resident mythical being mascot. </span><br />
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<span class="st">ALMONDO: What about me? I thought </span><br />
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<span class="st">Almondo, you're our resident fan-service mascot. </span><br />
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<span class="st">ALMONDO: I don't like Amontillado. His name is hard to say, but it's suspiciously similar to mine. </span><br />
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<span class="st">I grow bored of this. I need to talk about something else -- </span><br />
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<span class="st"><img height="554" id="il_fi" src="http://www.geekalerts.com/u/Geek-Ladies-Knee-Socks.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="554" /></span><br />
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<span class="st"><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: x-large;">OMG SOCKS!!!!!!!! I <3 Socks!</span></span><br />
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<span class="st">I love cute socks almost as much as I love Batman-themed underwear. Woo! Go socks! Go! What do you think, Amontillado? </span><br />
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<span class="st">AMONTILLADO: ...</span><br />
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<span class="st">You know, I think you and another silent fellow would get along! Say hello, Potato!</span><br />
<span class="st"></span><br />
<span class="st">POTATO: ...</span><br />
<span class="st"></span><br />
<span class="st">AMONTILLADO: ...</span><br />
<span class="st"></span><br />
<span class="st">POTATO: ....</span><br />
<span class="st"></span><br />
<span class="st">AMONTILLADO: ...</span><br />
<span class="st"></span><br />
<span class="st" style="color: blue; font-size: large;">OMG AMONTILLADO THE ARMADILLO LIZARD AND POTATO FOREVER! I <3 POTATOES AND LIZARDS!</span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: small;">We should have a wedding, yo! A totally awesome wedding! </span><br />
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Hmm, I don't remember eating this second ice cream sandwich. Did somebody put an empty wrapper on my desk when I wasn't looking?<br />
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It doesn't matter. I LOVE ice cream! Huzzah! <br />
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I'm going to tell you something very personal. It has to do with noses. And fear. It's a fear involving noses. You see, I'm afraid of standing above anyone because there is a chance that they will look up my nose. Good heavens, the things that could be in there. I mean, I have a clean nose. But I've seen some gross noses -- ew. <br />
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But I like ears. I have a thing for ears. Just look at ears. I could marry an ear. Don't judge me, okay? Everybody has a favorite body part, and I find ears to be absolutely adorable. I discovered this from a young age. <br />
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Feet make me mad, though. They are ugly, ugly things. I have collapsed arches, a botched foot-surgery, and a couple other things that make it hard for me to walk every now and then. I would gladly trade my traitorous feet for a black man's. People would walk up to me and say,<br />
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"Child, are those black man feet?"<br />
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And I would say,<br /><br />"Yes, yes they are." <br />
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Good times. <br />
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Imagine, me jogging across the beach with my new black man feet, smiling and laughing and tossing my hair. I would cast a flirtacious look at hunky military dude, and we would hold hands and run off together and I would finally have one of them "boyfriends" I always hear about. We would watch The Lord of the Rings and eat popcorn, and have a Nerf war afterwards. Hunk would let me win, though, because I suck at shooting things.<br />
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Good times, indeed.<br />
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Esther<br />
<span class="st"></span><br />Hannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-59425378049061206622013-01-10T18:56:00.000-05:002013-01-10T18:56:26.337-05:00Esther Plays: DishonoredUsually around the scheduled school breaks, I find a video game to occupy my time. This is because by the time breaks come along, I find that I desire nothing else than to sprawl myself out on a couch with a three-foot long Twizzler in one hand and a game controller in the other. I had been interested in playing Dishonored for a while, after I saw the intriguing trailer. (Ages 16+)<br />
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I'm a big fan of steam-punk style games. I'm also a big fan of the stealth genre, ever since <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beyond_Good_%26_Evil" target="_blank">Beyond Good and Evil.</a> I have just recently finished the game. So, how good was it? <br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Plot</strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="font-size: large;"></span></strong><br />
This is the tale of Corvo Attano, the silent and unsurprisingly handsome bodyguard of the Empress of a fictional land. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="349" id="il_fi" src="http://oyster.ignimgs.com/mediawiki/apis.ign.com/dishonored/thumb/4/43/Corvofull05_update_2.jpg/228px-Corvofull05_update_2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="228" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't you want to hug him?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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The empire is in chaos. A deadly plague is sweeping the city and turning everyone into angry jerks. (This is probably because they are vomiting blood and their brains are turning into mush, but manners are still important.) Just as Corvo gets home from a long trip, the Empress he is supposed to be protecting is killed in front of his eyes. In other words, he's terrible at his job. He is framed by the government for his boss's murder, and is sentenced to be executed. With the help of some allies, he escapes and sets out to take revenge against those who wronged him. Apparently Corvo is bad at protecting people because he's really, really good at knocking people out. <br />
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The plot is streamlined and easy to follow, with just enough intrigue to keep you interested. There are very few plot twists, however, and all are predictable. As fantastic as the setting is, with its brooding skies, strange machines, and dilapidated buildings, there isn't a lot of story here. As you traverse the surroundings, it would be nice to have larger snippets of the history of the city you're trying to change. It would allow for an immersing experience. However, the main plot is pleasing and has a tight narrative, so getting bored shouldn't be an issue.<br />
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If you chose to kill everyone who has wronged you, the story acts out differently. The more you kill, the more the plague spreads, the more plague victims you see, and more rats try to rip the flesh off your bones. You also get a different ending.<br />
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If you chose to be a saint, then you get a happier ending and less things trying to kill you at the end of the story. You can get through the game without killing anyone, a plot which I chose to follow.<br />
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The variations for the story are very nice, however each of the endings are unsatisfying. For all the work you put into not killing people, which can be very hard, you get a rather short and non-immersing ending. If you chose to join the dark side, surprise, you get a rather short and non-immersing ending. I would have rather had one really good ending than have several slapped-together ones. <br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Gameplay </span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-size: large;"></span></strong><br />
Gameplay is the best part of Dishonored. Because the way you act affects the story, you may want to play through again just to see how your actions affected the world around you. It feels great to successfully get through a level without being detected by anyone, or to jump from a high building directly onto the person you're targeting.<br />
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The stealth aspect of the game is made stronger with the presence of magic. A magical spirit has taken interest in you, and has blessed you with the power of being awesome. These powers include teleportation, seeing through walls, controlling people's minds, summoning swarms of rats, and turning your enemies into ash. In order to get these powers, you buy them with runes, magical objects that you find throughout the game. You will probably find yourself searching everywhere for these runes, and it is a lot of fun to collect them all. <br />
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However, you don't need any powers to beat the game, really. And only two powers are actually incredibly useful. The other powers, while flashy, only offer different solutions to the problems you can solve in a more straight-forward way. Most of the powers are offensively based, which doesn't offer a lot for the players who are trying to get through the game without killing anyone. In the end, I had a ton of runes to spend because there were no powers left that I hadn't maxed out that weren't used to slaughter rooms of people.<br />
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If you do use the powers to kill people, you will find the game ridiculously easy. People really don't stand a chance against Corvo when he is a demi-god of insane proportions.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="223" id="il_fi" src="http://lukgaming.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/Dishonored_2012_10-09-12_011.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They turned to ash a few seconds after this was taken. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This imbalance is a little infuriating, but then it's also cool to blast your way through your enemies in a flashy, dramatic blur. It's kind of like you're a ballerina dancing through the city with strobe lights sewn onto your tutu, except the strobe lights happen to be lasers. <br />
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The combat is fleshed out and stealth is really good, so you'll have fun however you play. It's a shame that the game isn't fleshed out in many other areas, however. Your enemies are all clones of each other, just with different faces. There are a lot of cases of unique dialogue, but you'll also hear the same pieces of dialogue repeated <em>every </em>level. If I took a shot every time I heard someone say, "Stupid rats, stupid plague, stupid god****", I would die of alcohol poisoning. It's also strange how sometimes your enemies are blissfully unaware of you at times, but a few moments later have superhuman hearing.<br />
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It's also a shame that everyone in the city is basically evil. Since there are so many soldiers, you would think one of them was at least a moral sort of person. However, everyone is corrupt. The lack of variation makes it very easy for all your enemies to blur together, and make you question if the city is even worth saving. <br />
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You can also collect bone charms, which offer superficial bonuses to your character. For example, one lets your breathe underwater longer. Some of them are very useful, but for some reason I never felt inclined to hunt for them.<br />
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Fighting, sneaking, and infiltrating are great fun. It's also fun to find no-kill solutions to your enemies. The city is built in such a way that you'll find there are half a dozen ways to get into any building, and it's fun to test them out.<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong></strong></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Graphics</strong></span><br />
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The art direction is very good, and the buildings are clean-cut and clear. I especially like the lighting, which seems perfectly placed. I found that the faces of most characters were rather ugly and less detailed compared to the rest of the surroundings, which is a shame. Still, a very pretty game. It runs very slow if your computer doesn't have a good graphics card. <br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Sound</span></strong><br />
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The voice acting of this game is awesome. Corvo never speaks, which is something I find kind of stupid, but all of the other characters do. The villains are especially well done, which isn't saying much because everyone is basically evil. However, I found the delivery of all the lines very well-done, even though the lines are often repeated a lot. There isn't much in the way of a soundtrack, which is all and good. It would be kind of hard to get in the stealthy mood with <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d2hRTLdvdnk" target="_blank">To Glory</a> playing in the background. Sometimes I found sounds to miss their cue, like when a bottle drops and the sound of broken glass comes too slowly. <br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Overall</strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="font-size: large;"></span></strong><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dishonored is a good game, but something holds it from greatness. While the gameplay is fleshed out and there are a lot of things to collect, plot is lacking and character interactions are shallow. The only way to humanely deal with enemies is to sneak by them or to choke them out, which gets rather repetitive. The characters represented are usually only on the darker side of the personality spectrum, and it would be nice to have enemies who weren't so obviously bad. It would have added depth to the game. All three of the endings are unsatisfying. Still, it's a great game and should not be missed just because it misses a few places. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>8/10</strong> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>Hannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-52285376104042307802013-01-09T21:31:00.002-05:002013-01-09T21:33:11.947-05:00The Wonderful World of ... PotatoesHello everyone!
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It's nine o'clock on a ... *checks calendar* Wendesday. I just ran up and down the stairs for fifteen minutes in an effort to stay in shape. I am very tired. But if Hannah can post, then so can I. <br />
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So I began thinking of thinks to write about. There is an ocean of ideas to write about, but when I stick my hand in the ocean, I lift my hand and see that it's dry. It's like I'm wearing an idea-proof rubber glove. But I can't take the glove off! Even when I so desperately wish to challenge that scumwad who flipped me off today to a gentlemanly duel by slapping him with my glove. Alas.<br />
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Anyway, I was thinking and realized that a lot of things go unnapreciated. For example, even though I am incredibly talented, I remain undiscovered by show-business. But there are other things too! We live our lives without realizing the things that make such a difference in our lives! So I'm going to write about something amazing, incredible, and influential. <br />
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<a href="http://pested.ifas.ufl.edu/newsletters/august07/potatoes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="207" id="il_fi" src="http://pested.ifas.ufl.edu/newsletters/august07/potatoes.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="320" /></a></div>
The potato. <br />
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It turns out that the potato is one of the most awesome things ever. Like, look at it. It's like, totally glowing. <br />
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Here are some interesting facts about the potato. <br />
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<strong>It's the fourth most cultivated food in the world. </strong><br />
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<strong>In 1536, Spanish Conquistadors discovered the potato and brought it to Europe. </strong><br />
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<strong>Idaho, which is now the largest producer of potatoes, did not grow potatoes until 1836. Missionaries moved to the state to help the native tribes grow crops instead of relying on hunting and gathering. Isn't that nice? </strong><br />
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<strong>In 1995, the potato was the first food grown in outerspace. </strong><br />
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<strong>The world's largest potato weighed 18 pounds. </strong><br />
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<strong>Marie Antoinette was known to wear potato blossoms with her outfits to make herself look snazzy. </strong><br />
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<strong>The potato was actually more valuable than gold during the Klondike Gold Rush. While gold was everywhere, food was scarce. Since the potato was nutrient rich, it was expensive as gold, but only between 1897 and 1898.</strong><br />
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<strong>Americans eat more potatoes than any other vegatable.</strong> <strong>On Super Bowl Sunday alone approximately 28 million pounds, or 12,700 tonnes, of potato chips are eaten in the states.</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
Now, isn't that interesting? The potato truly is glorious. Here is a haiku written in the potato's honor. <br />
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Potatoes are gold<br />
metaphorically though<br />
since they are just plants<br />
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That's great. Just great. <br />
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Anyway, I'll see you some other time with wonderful, underrated things. Until then! Say goodbye!<br />
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SLOSHY: Goodbye--<br />
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I was talking to the potato. <br />
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SLOSHY: Sorry....<br />
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POTATO: .... <br />
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Go on, potato. <br />
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POTATO: ....<br />
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Attaboy. <br />
<br />
EstherHannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-2692174147300331482013-01-03T14:23:00.000-05:002013-01-03T14:23:05.653-05:00Ringing in the New Year<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's that time of year again. People have eaten too much food. Everybody and their mother's aunt are making New Year's resolutions - because you HAVE to do so. Everyone feels guilty because of the holiday-money-grabbing-charity scams (not to be confused with real, helpful organizations - which are awesome). Moms are trying to get rid of things around the house. Dads are watching football. Kids are sleeping in and playing with new toys. Yet, what if, just maybe, it's more than this. What if we had a different goal this year - something other than losing weight and going on a vacation? Something that made a difference to someone other than you. That's a challenge for sure. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Watch this <a href="http://www.twojruch.net/en/" target="_blank">video</a>, then keep on reading. (Go to the link, and watch the YouTube video.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Amazing, huh? For those of you who have never heard of the Rebelution or Alex and Brett Harris, stop for like ten minutes and go visit their <a href="http://www.therebelution.com/" target="_blank">website </a>to check them out.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What if this year our resolution was to live for more than ourselves? Yes, you only live here on earth once, but there is more to life than YOLO. Really. Maybe, it's time that our generation did something to change the world around us in a positive way. What if we stood up for the kid at school who gets bullied? What if we made friends with the girl in Special Education classes? What if we chose to spend our spring break - wait for it - not in Florida but helping an organization like <a href="http://www.habitat.org/" target="_blank">Habitat for Humanity</a>? What if we realized that there is more to life than going to college because everyone else does, and then getting an 8-5 job in an office someone? There is more to life than that (not that I'm knocking those who do that - I'm just commending people who do something else with their life). What if we were different?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We normally ring in the new year with fireworks, parties, and friends. We make lists of things that we will never accomplish. This year, commit to doing something that you can do. Write a thank-you note. Volunteer for an organization. Knit scarves to send overseas. Send care-packages to soldiers. Pass out food at a food drive. Do something different. Please. I'm begging you. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Think about what you can do and then do it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Blessings!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hannah</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Hannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-23029128013533093412012-12-16T16:49:00.000-05:002012-12-16T16:49:20.819-05:00She Appears!<br />
(<em>The setting is an abandoned attic. The camera pans over dozens of cardboard boxes, covered in a thick layer of dust. Suddenly, a box trembles from within. The camera zooms onto the box. The top of the lid bursts open, and out pops an adorable creature with an elf hat on her head.) </em><br />
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It's <em>meeeeeeeeee!</em><br />
<em></em><br />
*cough* *cough* *hack* *choke*<br />
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Almondo, you need to do something about this dust. <br />
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ALMONDO: I'm on it!<br />
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And Sloshy.<br />
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SLOSHY: Yes?!<br />
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Just do what kappas do, okay? <br />
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SLOSHY: . . . Okay. <br />
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Wow, it's been awhile since I've been here. Hannah's been doing great by keeping her side of the blog clean, but mine is just a little -- just a little -- bit dirty<br />
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ALMONDO: What's this bra doing here. It's way too big to be yours -- <br />
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Shaddap Almondo!<br />
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Anyway, as you can see by my snazzy elf hat, I am definitely in the Christmas spirit! I think I would make a great elf if I were a tad shorter and had cute, pointy ears. And those cool elf shoes with the curled up ends. Anyway, a lot has happened since I mysteriously disappeared for no good reason. Let's do a catch up post. <br />
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<strong>I got my driver's liscense</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS. THE STREETS ARE NO LONGER SAFE!<br />
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Driving brings out the aggressive, foul-mouthed side of me. That would be okay if I could actually drive, but I can't. So basically, I am an angry goblin with wooden blocks strapped to my feet so I can reach the pedals, careening out of control on the highways because I can't read the traffic signs. <br />
<br />
Sigh. <br />
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<strong>I ended with a 4.0 GPA in IvyTech</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
I know I only took two classes, but it is nice anyway. A fabulous end to a good semester. <br />
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<strong>I wrote a poem about a dead boyfriend I never had</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
It was for school. We had to write an elegy, or a poem about death. I haven't experienced a lot of sadness in my life, so the only logical thing to do was make up some of my own misery. I'll show it to you guys if you are interested. <br />
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<strong>Volleyball season ended</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
It was my very last season as a Warrior. I regret that I haven't started playing volleyball sooner. It is such a wonderful sport. But my lovely coaches gave me several parting gifts, so I am happy. I've made lots of friends and memories.<br />
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<strong>I got a new phone for my birthday</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
Galaxy SIII. <br />
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Oh, and I'm 18 now. I'm legal in many ways except for two in America and 4 in Sweden. I'll let you guess what those are. (Hint: It has to do with llamas) <br />
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<strong>I taught a literature appreciation class</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
Unfortunately, because of a long hiatus, some pieces of literature went unappreciated. . . I hope we get to appreciate them later. <br />
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<strong>I started a journal</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
You know that's right. I've never been able to keep journals for more than three days. This being the fourth day, I think I've broken some sad, sad record. <br />
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<strong>Some other things</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
Lot's of other things happened. Some drama, emotions, fights, and losses. I won't give into them because complaining is for goblins.<br />
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And I am an elf. <br />
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As the countdown to Christmas continues, I shall be here, doing my thang. Back to you, Hannah. <br />
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Esther<br />
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Hannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-87082883599475768522012-12-15T19:30:00.000-05:002012-12-15T19:30:00.625-05:00When Tragedy Strikes<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's hard to know how to respond when tragedy strikes. Should we cry? Send a letter? Pray (always!)? Try to ignore it? It's tempting to do any or all of these. We all just want to do something. But what is the "right" way to do it? Right now, the tragedy in Newton, Connecticut is fresh in all of our minds. We grieve with the families involved. Over at <a href="http://a-life-of-surrender.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">A Surrendered Life</a>, Emily offers some of her thoughts as a response to what has happened. Check it out. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Blessings!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hannah</span>Hannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-54763789544495342372012-12-11T15:34:00.001-05:002012-12-11T15:34:31.156-05:00My Playlist this Christmas<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As it's that time of year again, I find myself humming along to well-known songs and letting myself get lost in the melody...I know, I'm a music freak. I thought I would share with you a few of my Christmas favorites that I'm listening to this year...Enjoy!</span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>White Christmas</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Aude Lang Syne</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Last Christmas</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>All I Want for Christmas is You</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Cold December Night </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Mary, Did You Know?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Holly Jolly Christmas</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>The First Noel</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is by no means an exhaustive list..I just wanted to share a few of my Christmas favorites with you! Comment below and let us know what you favorite Christmas songs are - I would love to know! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Also, I know that some of you do not celebrate Christmas; do you celebrate something else? For those of you who do celebrate Christmas, what is your favorite tradition?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Blessings!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hannah</span></div>
Hannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-85447948955880180402012-09-30T16:10:00.000-04:002012-09-30T16:10:38.520-04:00Strength from the Lord<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's easy to get busy. It's easy to be tired. Honestly, guys, I get eight hours of sleep (well, on about three nights per week) and I am still exhausted. I wake up tired. Lately, I've really been clinging to verses in the Bible about God being our strength. However, as I was sitting in worship this morning (we were singing <i>Everlasting God</i>), I was struck by the fact that praying for strength is different than asking God to wake me up. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Let me explain. Lately, I have been asking God to be my strength, because I know that I cannot do it on my own. In asking this, I have expected God to simply give me more energy, make me more alert, and help me to function on six hours of sleep. However, I think that I am asking for something different. In the song <i>Everlasting God</i>, there is a line that says:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Strength will rise as we wait upon the Lord,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>we will wait upon the Lord,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>we will wait upon the Lord.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I was singing this, I was struck with the thought that strength, real strength, comes from waiting expectantly and patiently on the Lord. This "real strength" is not often going to come in the form of God making me more awake or helping me to function on less sleep. Could He easily do this? Absolutely! However, I now think that He is trying to teach me to patiently, consistently, and expectantly wait on Him and call on His Name. From this, my strength - inner, resilient strength - will come. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Blessings,<br />Hannah</span></div>
Hannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-38854048711586158622012-09-28T11:01:00.000-04:002012-09-28T11:01:25.175-04:00And I'm Back!<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wow. It has been a long, long time since I posted! My sincerest apologies!! Life has been crazy, as I am doing school and working 20-25 hours per week at the same time. Esther, thanks for the birthday wishes! :) In addition, each time that I went to write a post, Blogger was down...there seemed to be some issues there for a while...=(</span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Something that God has really been teaching me lately is that I NEED Him to be my strength. I haven't gotten as much sleep as I need for about a month, I'll be honest. It's hard. I am constantly tired and weary; yet, in the midst of it all, He IS my strength. How wonderful! </span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"He gives power to the faint,</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and to him who has no might he increases strength.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even youths shall faint and be weary,</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and young men shall fall exhausted;</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength;</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>they shall mount up with wings like eagles;</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>they shall run and not be weary;</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>they shall walk and not faint."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>~ Isaiah 40:29-31 (ESV)</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">These verses have been life to me lately. I really need the reminder that God is my strength and that He will renew me in my weariness. Be encouraged today!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sorry that this is such a short post. I will try to post again very soon!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Blessings,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hannah</span></div>
Hannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-45759702349636262432012-08-24T21:21:00.000-04:002012-08-24T21:21:31.925-04:00Attack of the Clones -- Or, Scheid Diesel ExtravaganzaWoo! Busy week, I have had. I will get onto it as soon as possible, but firstly . . .<br />
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Happy birthday, Hannah! I'm sorry I couldn't do anything fancier. I had wanted Sloshy the Kappa come and play the bagpipes, and Almondo do a dance, but Sloshy can't play the bagpipes and Almondo says his dancing expertise isn't suitable to be viewed by our young audience. (Whatever that means.) But I just want to say I appreciate all you do, and I am very, very happy to have "met" you. I hope that this blog continues for a longer time so I can continue to read your inspiring words and learn about your mad cooking skills. <br />
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Okay, so this post will be a catch up of sorts. I have been really busy this week, as stated previously, and I actually forgot that I had a blog. Woops! Thank goodness Hannah posted, or else we would have had the longest hiatus ever thanks to my absence. Here are some things I did: <br />
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<strong>1. I started my college classes</strong><br />
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On Tuesday, I started my college classes. I am a student! Huzzah, hurray and all that! I'm enjoying my experience so far. It was a bit overwhelming at first, but I'm getting the hang of it. Of course, because I'm me, I have run into a few complications.<br />
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My microcomputers teacher said on Tuesday that <em>all </em>students should arrive fifteen minutes early to boot up their computers and deal with technological issues. So I thought, <em>fine, I can do that. </em>So I get to class the following Thursday, and to my surprise I see that the classroom is full of students. Instantly, I figure I'm late and I dash inside. I sit down. As I am pulling out my things, my teacher (Let's call him Qeetfranklin) walks up to me. <br />
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"Hello," he said.<br />
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"Hello!" I greeted.<br />
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"I do believe that you're in my next class," he said.<br />
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Oh. Now everything makes sense. <br />
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"Yes sir. Sorry sir," I said. And I dashed out as fast as my legs could carry me. Strangely enough, I wasn't embarrassed at all. Either I have matured, or I have formed some kind of cocoon around myself that protects me from caring what other people think about me. So I stand out in the hall, shifting from foot to foot, and a fellow student turns to me. <br />
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"Don't worry, I did it too," she said.<br />
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"Oh, yes! I mean not yes. But I'm glad I'm not alone."<br />
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She shrugged.<br />
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"Hey, he said to arrive early."<br />
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My sentiments exactly. <br />
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In other college news, I have a mini-speech due Tuesday. Wish me luck. I will let you know how it goes. Probably. If I remember. So far, classes aren't hard at all. We'll see if that changes. <br />
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<strong>2. My Guinea Pig Went Passive Agressive on Me</strong><br />
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YOU ALL KNOW ABOUT MY GUINEA PIG FATONE BECAUSE HE IS AN ANGEL AND I LOVE HIM SO MUCH AND THEREFORE YOU SHOULD LOVE HIM TOO SEE IT'S PERFECT LOGIC?!!?.<br />
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Anyway, I have a guinea pig named Fatone. I keep him upstairs in the living room. We ran out of food for him yesterday, and upon realizing this he decided that he was dying of starvation. That morning, I came up to him and he stood up on his hind legs and <em>wheeked </em>at me for several seconds, pleading me for food. <br />
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"Sorry," I said.<br />
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I walked away. Every time I would pass his cage, he would continue to yell at me. Finally, I yelled at him to shut up, and he did so because he loves me and he does what I say. <br />
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But then I come back later and look in the cage. He was curled up in a ball, his steely gaze cast up at me. And his whole body vibrated with anger and he let out a slow, steady, <br />
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"Bdddrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr....." <br />
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Overall, I was very offended that he would treat me this way. I tried to give him broccoli, but as soon as he tasted it, he froze, ran into a corner, and made horrendous gagging sounds. <br />
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We got him food, and he's back to normal, but I don't want to see him in one of those rages again.<br />
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<strong>3. I went to a teen volunteer party</strong><br />
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I volunteer at our local library, and every year the library has a get-together to celebrate the accomplishments of the volunteers. I had a really good time, I must say. We all got prizes and I received:<br />
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1. 2 tee-shirts<br />
2. 2 pencils<br />
3. several rubber rings<br />
4. a couple of book marks<br />
5. An inflatable elephant<br />
6. a betta fishtank<br />
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Not a bad haul, eh? Now I just need to convince my parents to get me a betta, and I will have yet another ultimately-useless-but-lovable pet to eat up all my money and time. I look forward to it so much. <br />
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Also, I volunteered the second most hours this year. 39 hours and 35 minutes. I lost to another girl by five whole stinkin' minutes. I was kind of sad because this was my last year as a teen volunteer and I had wanted to go out with a bang, but ultimately I am just happy to have been a help to my community. <br />
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I also wrapped a tee-shirt around my head and put my elephant on top to create the best hat ever. I don't have a picture, but you probably don't want to see one. <br />
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<strong>4. My Online School started</strong><br />
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Because of an error, I got enrolled in my online school a week and a half late, and as a result I am now thirty lessons behind. Yay. I started working away at it this morning. Looks like I'm going to have a full weekend. <br />
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<strong>5. Made a new friend</strong><br />
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I now have a new walking buddy. Hello there, Ayrton. You should read my blog.<br />
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<strong>6. I started driving more</strong><br />
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It is so much easier to drive an Audi than a giant, hulking van. <br />
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<strong>7. The Scheid Diesal Extravaganza started </strong><br />
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The SDE is an hilarious and infuriating event that takes place in Terre Haute every year. Guys in giant trucks come from all around the country to show off the smoke-spewing glory of their engines, and to stare at other trucks. That's it. <br />
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But because of this, the traffic gets horrible, and the air turns a dark gray because of all the smoke that gets spewed out of the exhaust pipes. Not to mention, because they like to show off, these guys drive way above the speed limit and careen everywhere. It makes driving an actually dangerous affair. And these guys don't even care. I heard one guy say, "why do the cops give us tickets if they want us here (for the business our presence brings)?" <br />
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Really, diesel guy? <br />
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<em>REALLY? </em><br />
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Another funny thing is that all of the guys are clones of each other -- to be expected for a convention -- but they way they saunter around with their ciggarettes hanging limply from their mouths and in their flannel shirts makes me giggle. <br />
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I also don't really get what the fun is. YAY! Your car spews more smoke into the atmosphere than the average vehicle! Let's all line up on the road and watch other gas-guzzlers drive by!<br />
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And that's what they do. <br />
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That's just a small portion. This line goes on at least a block longer than this.<br />
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That's about it! Almondo, take us away!<br />
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ALMONDO: Wait, why am I dressed in a toga?<br />
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*Shrug*<br />
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But if you are, you should dance. <br />
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ALMONDO: Ugh, fine. <br />
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(ALMONDO dances)<br />
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YAY! Happy birthday, Hannah!<br />
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Esther<br />
<br />Hannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-77133573142045003512012-08-20T20:47:00.000-04:002012-08-20T20:47:42.842-04:00Pictures!!<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here is what you have all been waiting for...the pictures from the Bakery. Exciting, I know. =) Here you go:</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turnovers - Apple or blueberry?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh337ldLPEDfa4TtzYOR6cQTwZmqi4XJrPdF7_MGSxErGv2zTV8CpK3tcK1QW2bKxb8TIz3ET9vPJXyGzJSvVpnDgrXVr7XwFsPa4CKQqMSQmcIp-xOI6Z4Xz_pg4s6Qb5_Uq29TCSDeTI/s1600/8.16.12-8.20.12+032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh337ldLPEDfa4TtzYOR6cQTwZmqi4XJrPdF7_MGSxErGv2zTV8CpK3tcK1QW2bKxb8TIz3ET9vPJXyGzJSvVpnDgrXVr7XwFsPa4CKQqMSQmcIp-xOI6Z4Xz_pg4s6Qb5_Uq29TCSDeTI/s320/8.16.12-8.20.12+032.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kolackys - We sell Raspberry (super yummy!), Cream Cheese,<br />and Strawberry with Cream Cheese.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizz6lf99xw5h3IUm7mTfmovZzeM_5Bz-JcMkseSbWjA7pXG43Hql9YK31oXLeX10554-N6TLk9vDj_W71SHqsgIy2sB8euw_wBcoZEltDeuX8aLgjwnghle1YiVFRojplSY9CCjFfRQW4/s1600/8.16.12-8.20.12+035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizz6lf99xw5h3IUm7mTfmovZzeM_5Bz-JcMkseSbWjA7pXG43Hql9YK31oXLeX10554-N6TLk9vDj_W71SHqsgIy2sB8euw_wBcoZEltDeuX8aLgjwnghle1YiVFRojplSY9CCjFfRQW4/s320/8.16.12-8.20.12+035.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fruit Sticks - Apple, Cherry, or Strawberry/Cream Cheese</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF2MX6VzN9u-f-Jp-FMtRh4UAAtewBXvBj0YVywQvvwlQUTkriu0NEGBOMLpE0o9bYdIocv-W1gY8SwhqE9SjDGwpsEdBHZLNyIhCSUtyboVCbQa8yAyihnLpe7O3rdVOowgYXx_LtXdk/s1600/8.16.12-8.20.12+036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF2MX6VzN9u-f-Jp-FMtRh4UAAtewBXvBj0YVywQvvwlQUTkriu0NEGBOMLpE0o9bYdIocv-W1gY8SwhqE9SjDGwpsEdBHZLNyIhCSUtyboVCbQa8yAyihnLpe7O3rdVOowgYXx_LtXdk/s320/8.16.12-8.20.12+036.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cinnamon Strussel Muffin, anyone?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqmJjSHFciLy0slFIZ_m7DQ5uJCmjlrNnkBZuG5JDtVq-I7LwfToLl5ovp6tnOWUvfm-E6iSZ5buulgRG4DRjn32TGwuF3mPKbt3Y0MOm_YYPCGSXkWPR9wfUA2lfm9qT3luTn3sWT8W8/s1600/8.16.12-8.20.12+037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqmJjSHFciLy0slFIZ_m7DQ5uJCmjlrNnkBZuG5JDtVq-I7LwfToLl5ovp6tnOWUvfm-E6iSZ5buulgRG4DRjn32TGwuF3mPKbt3Y0MOm_YYPCGSXkWPR9wfUA2lfm9qT3luTn3sWT8W8/s320/8.16.12-8.20.12+037.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ0qJc6JF7-12gROJSDlaXR47NLkBznqdkUcrjgyyy_IO9M0EeS0_1W45KtVmRjg556jTRfdDHy_FjM6wiu0ZIO4BgymtNrORQh9gOoismgnsAdgyM1aBKhkVUd2NHjHzdTsF5__jYrKA/s1600/8.16.12-8.20.12+038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ0qJc6JF7-12gROJSDlaXR47NLkBznqdkUcrjgyyy_IO9M0EeS0_1W45KtVmRjg556jTRfdDHy_FjM6wiu0ZIO4BgymtNrORQh9gOoismgnsAdgyM1aBKhkVUd2NHjHzdTsF5__jYrKA/s320/8.16.12-8.20.12+038.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blueberry Muffins - My personal favorite!<br />Sorry that the picture is sideways! =(</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkSk-sVDmQydSPDaIYZk8JfvYchnw7caMoxK83s8U-FU69wImP8qOb75zig0a-JwEETNIKfjNR3lxPviCM5SoRHcLTKarDoryYHOtf_jiiQUNWrjm7mMD2emu0gKGlkkkGvCOAmrP2WOs/s1600/8.16.12-8.20.12+039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkSk-sVDmQydSPDaIYZk8JfvYchnw7caMoxK83s8U-FU69wImP8qOb75zig0a-JwEETNIKfjNR3lxPviCM5SoRHcLTKarDoryYHOtf_jiiQUNWrjm7mMD2emu0gKGlkkkGvCOAmrP2WOs/s320/8.16.12-8.20.12+039.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gigantic, delicious chocolate chip cookies!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIMIDlUa1Umr1eP2p4CAxnY40sklGuqOnAp5PKfAM0_qUKTKRaafegYyce6CI3tEd3ncNNGi_jrd6GnDPXzGsFNlhfyPYoOJ63szU5Ez1dDxPHhcLdJbyfkepjfArDFaSXiDWIWji-_g0/s1600/8.16.12-8.20.12+040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIMIDlUa1Umr1eP2p4CAxnY40sklGuqOnAp5PKfAM0_qUKTKRaafegYyce6CI3tEd3ncNNGi_jrd6GnDPXzGsFNlhfyPYoOJ63szU5Ez1dDxPHhcLdJbyfkepjfArDFaSXiDWIWji-_g0/s320/8.16.12-8.20.12+040.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chocolate Scones</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVMANl98AhP2kyDGOKL9zPD36LloUm4AVQP5RdL8Kb6fRYAx7ox44aG3Ja39otwGePyT3LJeR8aZ7vhHjhRiznIsikru-cb4EGTkxXPDUBYZjtW3O1FrWExvJJ7L91wJxlixWGryEcGNk/s1600/8.16.12-8.20.12+041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVMANl98AhP2kyDGOKL9zPD36LloUm4AVQP5RdL8Kb6fRYAx7ox44aG3Ja39otwGePyT3LJeR8aZ7vhHjhRiznIsikru-cb4EGTkxXPDUBYZjtW3O1FrWExvJJ7L91wJxlixWGryEcGNk/s320/8.16.12-8.20.12+041.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Regular" Scones</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLzT33ykkOGfek2oe2xQRYJ4wMCSth0_LoDwke4oqncoz5-IDO1fE9AxW8rVfx3Ciuk3oFnw0ziwsyMEernsnR6oP_qDLgFFAjS2ZScMBzV0CiV0zHAOWhGoJENHtq41UeOyRclbgNIoY/s1600/8.16.12-8.20.12+042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLzT33ykkOGfek2oe2xQRYJ4wMCSth0_LoDwke4oqncoz5-IDO1fE9AxW8rVfx3Ciuk3oFnw0ziwsyMEernsnR6oP_qDLgFFAjS2ZScMBzV0CiV0zHAOWhGoJENHtq41UeOyRclbgNIoY/s320/8.16.12-8.20.12+042.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Banana Cupcakes with Peanut Butter Frosting and Walnuts</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivx0A99Yd5EqES5e2sVPHQBew8chkzwk2k6zMwiVDu1LKZC59Jb8mESoYK8xxqs6oDnXa36CXa_v1yAAn58G6BrfBRXdoOUgwGpSwq20D5VI-CJgdom_TdO5E1CodyWO28ibABt-bc_OA/s1600/8.16.12-8.20.12+043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivx0A99Yd5EqES5e2sVPHQBew8chkzwk2k6zMwiVDu1LKZC59Jb8mESoYK8xxqs6oDnXa36CXa_v1yAAn58G6BrfBRXdoOUgwGpSwq20D5VI-CJgdom_TdO5E1CodyWO28ibABt-bc_OA/s320/8.16.12-8.20.12+043.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peanut Butter Cupcakes with Honey Frosting</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In addition, we sell donuts, Almond Bear Claws, Crossiants, Bagels, English Muffins, Pecan Bars, Brownies, a variety of other cookies, as well as wraps and paninis. It is all so yummy! =)</span><div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, for some other food pictures....My family decided to have our own "Iron Chef" competition the other night, and I took pictures. I will admit, I was leery when we started, but all of the food was most tasty! I got to be a judge, and so I took some pictures of the cooking process. We had three teams competing, and the "secret ingredient" was zucchini. Enjoy!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My apologies that this picture is sideways!<br />She is making zucchini chips - so good!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zucchini Smoothies!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf3K60uBo3e8DYouKYL0NRpnuG3Cfab_C3ROuv-kNvtLIgJwvbsJcmatlAgq7GPwNFdrGN6j8OGJ4plUSjGWyG6i4QblDpiOqYS-_H3z_HnK_ORcQ0I7MNxY8leAhTnaZ-qdErL_ZWaeU/s1600/8.16.12-8.20.12+023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf3K60uBo3e8DYouKYL0NRpnuG3Cfab_C3ROuv-kNvtLIgJwvbsJcmatlAgq7GPwNFdrGN6j8OGJ4plUSjGWyG6i4QblDpiOqYS-_H3z_HnK_ORcQ0I7MNxY8leAhTnaZ-qdErL_ZWaeU/s320/8.16.12-8.20.12+023.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The pre-baked meatloaf - It was actually quite good, at least<br />once it was baked. =)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7sWIc6X2XVhyJUgu0E92v1hD8Rnt94B_Qu4rH3_zdCcQxIAMLLrPpBWZhHAhDazbcMyIQwSEBhqTthPwZoVn7_rJxl80IHEjVUpCygW_3LeJw7UA8Yp9g-HEqquvL3cPL6NQokWyI5g8/s1600/8.16.12-8.20.12+029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7sWIc6X2XVhyJUgu0E92v1hD8Rnt94B_Qu4rH3_zdCcQxIAMLLrPpBWZhHAhDazbcMyIQwSEBhqTthPwZoVn7_rJxl80IHEjVUpCygW_3LeJw7UA8Yp9g-HEqquvL3cPL6NQokWyI5g8/s320/8.16.12-8.20.12+029.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A chicken/veggie stir-fry, of sorts</td></tr>
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<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, you can see that we at least had fun. It was by no means professional, but we had a blast in the process. My apologies that this post has so many pictures!</span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Blessings,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hannah</span><div>
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Hannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-41253308486410339672012-08-16T21:01:00.000-04:002012-08-18T22:22:52.555-04:00We Need To Talk About Kevin -- Book ReviewHello everybody! I recently finished a thought-provoking novel titled <em>We Need To Talk About Kevin. </em>I have wanted to write a review about this book for the past few days, and so now I am. I hope that you may read this book too and see if you share my opinions. If you've already read it, please share your thoughts in the comment section. <br />
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<strong>Title: </strong><strong><em>We Need To Talk About Kevin</em>Genre: Literary fiction/psychological</strong><br />
<strong>Author: Lionel Shriver</strong><strong><br />Length: Long <br />Summary: </strong>This is primarily story about Eva Khatchadourian and her son Kevin, who is the sole culprit of a school shooting which killed many students and two faculty members. Told through a series of letters from Eva to her husband Franklin, the story discusses what spurned Kevin murder, and if Eva's lackluster parenting caused him to turn out this way. The story goes from before Kevin was born and up to the shooting. Some focus is given to Eva's relationship with her husband, and how it deteriorated with the progression of the novel. However, this is not a romantic book.<br />
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<strong>PLOT</strong><br />
<br />
At first I was disappointed when I realized that this novel would be told through a massive string of one-sided letters. (Franklin never writes her back, for reasons explained in the book) I thought of this particular method of story-telling too limited -- even more so than the traditional first person. However, Shriver does a very good job of executing the plot in this way, providing each chapter (or letter, rather) with a decidedly good cliff-hanger that keeps the reader wanting more. Each letter contains interesting stories, comments, and character interactions that keep the novel moving successfully. <br />
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The plot is not without its errors, however. The novel is entirely ponderous; it takes slow, heavy steps towards its all too short climax. Each scene is relatively interesting, but often I considered the question "is this part truly necessary?" The scenes that truly brought me on the edge of my seat were incredibly powerful and completely worth reading, but they were stuffed in between scenes that didn't seem to add to the story other to give it a complete sense of drudgery. This drudgery does add to the book's tone though, which is a bonus that saved me from putting it down more often. <br />
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At points I do feel that Eva gives away too much information. Actually, one of the book's weaker points is towards the end, when Eva discusses the climax where she wasn't even present with such detail it shatters the reader's suspension of belief completely. Eva says she knows these things from previous sources, but this fact is written in such a offhanded way that you feel like this is a tacked on excuse for just giving too much information to be believable. Don't get me wrong, the climax is lovely and powerful, but it doesn't quite fit. The massive build up for just thirteen pages of questionable climactic material makes me feel a little cheated.<br />
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<br />
<strong>CHARACTERS</strong><br />
The characters are <em>Kevin's </em>weakest point, which is a complete shame because the characters are what ultimately make a book good. Eva is the protagonist, and she grows more unlikable as the story progresses. You can have a functional book without a likable protagonist, so long as you can relate to the character in some way. Eva almost seems inhuman: her incurable pathos and her determined dislike for nearly everything in the world around her is unbelievable. She contradicts what actually matters to her throughout the story. The one things she seems to appreciate is travel, but she often admits that she doesn't like it until she's in a foreign country and there's no going back. She is what literature calls an "unreliable narrator", and of course this can be a very effective story telling tool, but only used, well, <em>effectively. </em>Later in the story, Eva is diagnosed with <em>post-natal depression, </em>but that doesn't explain the depression that lasted for forty years before that. <br />
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Franklin, the husband and the recipient of the letters, is one of the more fake characters ever written. It is said that the two characters love each other, but no proof is ever given to make this a fact. When Kevin is born, Franklin goes from ambiguous lover to the role of nonsensical father. Although Eva is admittedly a terrible mother, Franklin never hesitated to take Kevin's side. Whenever it was suspected that Kevin had done something horrid (from something like tampering with a kid's bicycle and cause said child to crash and nearly die, to just making a giant mess and not cleaning it up) Franklin never considers it a possibility that Kevin did something wrong. It became Kevin and Franklin vs Eva (as she like to put it) and it is not a believable relationship in the least. Franklin at most is a fuel to help Eva rant about the little terror that is Kevin, but I suppose that the book is about Kevin in the first place. <br />
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Kevin is ultimately the best character in the book. He is a monsterous person down to his withered core, but he is a successful character. His morals and drive remain ambiguous, but he stays a constant in between the two other leading characters. That is, until the end of the book. In the entire story, we are lead to believe that Kevin was irredeemable. Yet, in the face of a new fear, he undergoes a turnaround that is almost a 360 by Kevin standards. It's frustrating. Shriver's inability to create characters that can tell a cohesive story is <em>Kevin's </em>greatest weakness. <br />
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<strong>PROSE/WRITING QUALITY</strong><br />
<br />
The writing quality of <em>Kevin </em>is the book's best feature. It has a wonderful flow to it. You are compelled to keep reading even through the book's more mundane sections. Eva's character makes it difficult to continue reading sometimes, but actually, sometimes it's her unique (if not natural) mind that makes you want to read. Sometimes the author puts things in such a way that the reader is forced to pause and think, "wow, that's totally how I feel", or "that's the perfect way to put it". Sometimes you don't agree with Eva at all, but you still find it interesting how intense her psychological insight is. Whether right or wrong, this novel is a thought-provoker. <br />
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There are moments when the novel gives too much information to a detail, while not giving bigger, more interesting moments their time in the limelight. It seems that the author has difficulty focusing on what aspects of the novel to elucidate. Eva's stream of consciousness technique is a bit of excuse for it, but whether the narrator is reliable or not, the author simply must consider the important aspects of a novel and realize them. <br />
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<br />
<strong>THEME/FOCUS of THE NOVEL</strong><br />
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I am still trying to discern <em>Kevin's </em>true purpose. At first I thought it was a psychological probe into the minds of psychopaths or sociopaths. Not even half way in, I realized that there wasn't enough focus on this subject to be the true purpose of the book. <em>Kevin </em>touches on several different themes, but doesn't adhere to a single one. It feels like the author is trying to make a definite point, but she never quite manages. Therefore, I can only ascertain that the theme and the focus of this book is rather fuddy duddy, to put simply. I was rather disappointed that I couldn't walk away with a genuine feeling for this book. Rather, I simply received a mishmash of different ideas. Thought-provoking, intelligent, and scary thoughts to be sure, but all vague and not truly realized. It would have been more satisfying for the author to submit to a single theme than pursue them all at once. But maybe the point of this book is that there is no real meaning, no true answer to the things people do and why they do them. An interesting observation, but it doesn't make for satisfying reading. <br />
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<strong>OVERALL</strong><br />
<br />
<em>We Need To Talk About Kevin </em>is an above-average book, and is filled with clear and vibrant moments of pure literary genius. Its problem lies in its execution. Its inability to retain consistency in its characters and its narrative focus hamper this novel extremely. Still, those bright moments make this book worth reading. The climax is exciting and has an excellent plot twist, but the last two pages will have you reeling with confusion over who Eva and Kevin really are. <br />
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It is a chilling and captivating read, but also a heavy undertaking. Don't expect to read this book in one or two sittings. <br />
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<strong>3.5/5</strong><br />
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<strong>-----</strong><br />
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Well, there you go! See you guys next time.<br />
EstherHannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-89214379998835436212012-08-15T22:53:00.001-04:002012-08-15T22:58:13.435-04:00Four C's of Friendship<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My friends, I am so sorry for leaving you for so long. Between my new work schedule, school, and different places that I have to go, my life is very busy. I am trying to continue to make time for all of you wonderful people. Esther, you are fabulous. Isn't she fabulous, everyone? You all should let her know how fabulous she is. She is pulling so much weight for this blog right now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, friendship. We all have friends. At least, we all should. If you don't, go out an make a friend. You need one. </span><br />
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<u style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: bold;">Cupcakes and Coffee</u><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">: I know, I'm combining the first two "C's". The gist of this one, is that we all need time with our friends. We need common ground to start off a friendship. Almost everyone likes cupcakes, and many people like coffee too. Here are some cupcakes that I made the other day: </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I didn't make this, but since it goes along with the 'C'.... =)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, there you see some of my baking and decorating skills. Jose and Zach, yes, I still plan to get pictures for you at the Bakery. You might have to wait until early next week though..</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyways, back to coffee and cupcakes...We need to build relationships on common ground. I know what you are thinking: "But Hannah, they always say that opposites attract. Are you really disagreeing with this??" Yes, in a way, I am. Studies have proven that while opposites may attract for a short time, you are more apt to want to spend time long-term with someone that you can easily relate to. Also, coffee and cupcakes are just fun. Every friendship needs fun. Incorporate life into your friendship, and you will both enjoy it much more - or so I have found. You don't have to like coffee and cupcakes for this to be true. You can change this to orange juice and donuts if you want. The point is that you need somewhere to start.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u style="font-weight: bold;">Conversation:</u> If you don't talk, you won't get anywhere. I'm sorry, but that's the truth of it. People can only talk with their eyes for so long. Conversation is what develops a friendship. It helps you to grow closer together. For example, my best friend and I know a lot (emphasis on "a lot") about each other because we have talked to each other almost every day for the last however many months. We take time for each other, and that deepens the friendship. Also, conversation shows that you care. If you take the time to have a meaningful conversation with someone, they <u>will</u> appreciate it. People do not do that near enough in our day-and-age...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u style="font-weight: bold;">Christ:</u> Every relationship that you have throughout your entire life should have Christ incorporated in it, as the very center. Trust me when I say that things will go much, much better in the friendship (or marriage, even) if Christ is the center. We need friendships to encourage one another. In the New Testament, Paul talks about so many "one anothers" (Love one another, encourage one another, etc.) Ephesians 4:32 is one example of this. The point is, if we do not have anyone in our lives to hold us accountable, pray for and with us, encourage us, pick us up when we are down, we will miss out on something incredible. God has made us for relationship. We are designed to be in communion with one another. We need each other to live. It is vital. Even monks and nuns live in monasteries and convents. Think about it. Where would you be without your friends?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Blessings,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hannah</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">P.S. Listen to this song =) It's cute, and quite fitting with this post.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Hannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-64606249304893101772012-08-14T17:47:00.003-04:002012-08-14T17:47:52.118-04:00Tasty FillingHey guys! <br />
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We haven't had a post in like five days! You shouldn't be upset. No, you should be glad that we have established a new personal record for awol-itude. <br />
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Anyway, Hannah and I (Read: Hannah) have been really busy, and haven't had the opportunity to post. Hannah shall be posting tomorrow, but until then I have taken it upon myself to give you guys a filler post. This is because, in the last five days, I have not dedicated thought to any particular post in itself, because I am a sloth of the up most order. <br />
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So today I have decided to give you filling: delicious, sticky, and unhealthy.<br />
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Firstly, here is a picture of a lamp.<br />
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It's beauty is in its simplicity. Rather than showing you a picture of a lamp with antlers or perhaps a propeller beanie, I have chosen to provide you with the pure innocence of standard electrical fare. Oh! I just thought of a joke!<br />
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Why did the lamp ask the plumber out on a date?<br />
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Because the plumber <strong>turned the lamp on.</strong><br />
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Byahahahaahahaahah! That's good! That's really good.<br />
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Speaking of lamps, here is a picture I drew of a guy with a pimple on his head. <img border="0" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmrSHKYxAxHxlyERDEe87KUUv1y1-5CsJWN8GwEai8oisPPg5nbn04MzAacWyYfnYbCo-rmcnWV4vVFQqfsAwzse77ZewF5IviBnu8eOoUYXh8J1EkeNXOEuY9jqNVJZfG84KSWSIZ9ck/s400/it%2527s+fun+to+have+a+pimple+on+your+head.png" width="400" /><br />
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This is probably the greatest piece of art ever created. Ever. And I totally just shared it with you. That could totally be like, a tee-shirt or something. I know I have fun when I get a pimple on my head.<br />
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SLOSHY THE KAPPA: Hey! I have something to add to your filler post!<br />
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What would that be, Sloshy?!!!!*<br />
SLOSHY THE KAPPA: It's a song I wrote about Americans! Since I moved from Japan to the US, I have had a lot of cool experiences. I would like to share them with you!<br />
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Then please, share the song, Sloshy!<br />
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SLOSHY THE KAPPA: Okay, here it is. <br />
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<strong>The American Song</strong><br />
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America! <br />
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Oh, America! <br />
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You are kind of big, and your people really tall<br />
it must hurt a ton when you fall<br />
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America!<br />
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Oh America!<br />
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I would live in your lakes but they're too polluted<br />I would drink all your beer but its just too diluted<br /><br />Oh America.<br />
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America!<br />
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And your people may be fat on average<br />but that don't mean nothing to me<br />cause you're the country of freedom<br />from sea to shining sea!<br />
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AMERICA!<br />
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AMERICA!<br />
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AMERICA!<br />
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You are simply not insidious<br />although your banks are perfidious<br />You should prob'ly take advice from the Swiss<br />
Oh yeah.<br />
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Oh yeah!<br />
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I don't know what Obamacare is <br />but it must be the answer to everything<br />And you're kind of flashy and sometimes trashy but --<br />
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<strong>OKAY! OKAY! That's enough!</strong><br />
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SLOSHY THE KAPPA: But I was just getting started!<br />
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I think we got a pretty good idea of your feelings, Sloshy. Why don't you go in a lake or something?<br />
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SLOSHY: Weren't you paying any attention at all to my song?<br />
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Anyway, I think we are getting to the end of our filler post. Does anyone have any final words? <br />
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SLOSHY: I do--<br />
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Oh, I guess not. Too bad. Better post tomorrow, and the day after that! Until then, munch on the marrow of this post, since it obviously is nothing but bones. <br />
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I'm so sorry, Hannah. <br />
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Please continue to read our humble blog!<br /><br />Don't let a Japanese monster write songs about the United States,<br /><br />Esther<br />
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Hannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-60371855407505432692012-08-08T15:20:00.000-04:002012-08-08T15:45:18.096-04:00The Problem With DoorsI have very few real fears in life. These fears are:<br />
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1) Tripping and then dying from the fall<br />
2) People who wear bikinis when they really shouldn't<br />
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3) Intestinal parasites<br />
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4) Doors<br />
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Out of all of the things on this list, I believe that it is obvious which one scares me the most. Indeed, doors scare the heck out of me. It might be strange to devote an entire blog post to doors, but what's even stranger is that I have enough writing material to <em>fuel </em>a post about doors. <br />
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Now, why do I fear doors? The answer is simple. It's because I can't open them. <br />
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I try to push open a door, and it turns out I was supposed to pull it. I pull on a door, and I was supposed to push it. I turn the knob to the left when I should have turned it to the right. I blast it down with a bazooka when it turns out I should have used a lazer cannon. <br />
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You see, I can't get a door open when it counts. So I make a fool of myself in public every day because I can't open an <em>acursed </em>door! A door, people. In fact, I can think of no scarier situation than having Brad Pitt walk up to me, his arms full with boxes of expired fortune cookies, and ask me to hold "that door over there" open for him so he can enter the next room.<br />
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I get goose bumps just thinking about it. <br />
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There is no logical or scientific explanation for my EPI (Extreme Portal Incompetence). I think it might be because I'm the first child of my family. Since I always had things provided for me, I am unable to perform some of the most basic of tasks. I'm terrible at cleaning, cooking (I'll have to write a post about the "popcorn" incident) and just being practical. <br />
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Of course, doors are one problem. If you combine doors with a lock and key, things spiral into complete and utterly inevetable chaos.<br />
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My inabilty to stick a key in a lock and cause the door to open is so unusual that I'm even ashamed to admit it here. I am seventeen years old and I can't do this simple task. Why couldn't we have just switched to those swipe key cards by now? That would make it easier for a poor, poor child with FCS (First Child Syndrome). <br />
So, I suppose you guys need an example or something. Okay, that works for me. <br />
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<strong>An Example or Something</strong><br />
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When I went to Europe as a student ambassador, I had the lovely opportunity to spend the night in the dorms of a Welsh college. We got whole dorm rooms to ourselves, and I was so excited because I haven't gotten a room to myself in two weeks. You see, I have COWATS (Can't Opperate Without Alone Time Syndrome) so alone time would be good for me.<br />
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So I'm bouncing up and down while we wait for our dorm number. My delegation leader walks up to me, her gaze focused on a clipboard. She checks my name off of a list. <br />
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"Okay, Esther, your room is number 202. Here is your key."<br />
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She handed me a key. <br />
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What I was thinking when she handed me that key cannot be rewritten here, but it rhymed with "purple orange is hip happenin' over there". <br />
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So I got up to my room. I saw the door. I saw the lock. I swallowed. Slowly, I inserted the key inside the lock and twisted the key to the right. <br />
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Nothing happened.<br />
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So a delegate walks up to me and asked if I needed help, to which I responded casually, <br />
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"Sure, maybe, if you feel like it."<br />
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Together we managed to defeat the Evil Door. It was a true victory for man kind, I dare say. <br />
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<strong>Another Example, Possibly Maybe </strong><br />
This incident happened the other day, and it was what inspired me to do this post. I am going to take some college classes at Ivy Tech, but I had to take the COMPASS test first. It's this easy test that sees if you are qualified for college level courses. <br />
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I went to Ivy Tech's testing center, where a nice receptionist greeted me. After I signed up, she slid me a small, metalic object that looked suspiciously like a key.<br />
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"This is the key to locker number five. Please place your personal belongings in the locker now."<br />
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WHAT! <br />
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"Good bye, honey," my mom wished me as she left the room. I almost reached my arm after her, wishing she could discreetly open my locker for me, or at least give me advice. But she didn't. And I was distraught. <br />
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The locker was locked with a padlock. I put the key in the padlock. I twisted the key.<br />
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<em>NOOOOOOOOO -- </em><br />
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The lock twisted open. <br />
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<em>That's nice. </em><br />
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But unfortunately for me, I had to take the padlock off of the locker in order to open it. This proved impossible, and before long I was battering myself against the locker with unparralleled force. <br />
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"Is something wrong?" the receptionist asked.<br />
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I hung my head in shame and pointed towards my locker. <br />
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"Could you open it for me, please?" I asked. <br />
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So yes, that was incredibly embarrasing. <br />
<br />On the bright side, I scored very well on my test. College courses here I come! <br />
But now I am questioning my actual intelligence. <br />
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Don't write a blog post only to have the last half deleted so you have to write it again,<br /><br />Esther<br />
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<br />Hannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-63442265695760084222012-08-06T17:45:00.000-04:002012-08-06T17:45:29.872-04:00In the Midst of Pure Insanity<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well Everyone, life is crazy. Though, that is pretty much how it is all the time for most people. I went to work this morning at 4am. I had the 4am-9am shift today at the Bakery. Honestly, it is a bit boring, but I love the people with which I work. They are all amazing. The 'Regulars" are so funny. There are about four to seven men that come in every morning to have coffee and talk. They all have a specific order that they get every time. I believe that I am working thirteen days this month, including one double shift. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, why am I telling you all this? I have no idea. School starts in one week - exactly. It is so hard to believe that Senior year is here! I'm excited. =) I reason that I should be getting back into a normal pace with blogging and such. I am trying to get back into routine - if there ever was one. So I was trying to decide what I want to share with you today, and had a little trouble deciding, but here is what I came up with for today.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yesterday, as I was doing my devotions, I just kept singing the phrase "I sing to glorify the King who gave His life." I have no idea where this came from, other than that it must be from the Lord. I soon was led to two verses that led me along the same path.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>"And I will be to her a wall of fire all around, </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>declares the Lord,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>and I will be the glory in her midst."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>~ Zechariah 2:5</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>"Sing and rejoice,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>O daughter of Zion,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>I came and I will dwell in your midst,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>declares the Lord."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>~ Zechariah 2:10</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even in the midst of my busy life, I still must make time to sing to my King. He alone is worthy of my praise. In the Bible, it says that if we do not praise Him the rocks and mountains will cry out. Yes, I need God when everything is crumbling around me, but how much more do I need Him when the world seems to be perfect (figuratively speaking)! It is then that my focus comes off on Him and onto worldly things. It is then that I need Him to be my constant guide, my Rock and my source of all true wisdom. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Blessings,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hannah</span></div>Hannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-56550714728941472852012-08-05T18:28:00.000-04:002012-08-05T18:28:39.126-04:00Life Update: Plays and AuditionsHello everybody! <br /><br />Sorry for the long hiatus, but I have been terribly busy. "Rules For a Knave", the play that I wrote and my homeschool performed, has just finished its run on Broadway! <br />
Ha ha, joking. But we did perform it, and it was such a wonderful experience. I've had a busy day today as well, even though the play is over. I'll get to that. <br /><br />Anyway, let's get to the summary before I fall asleep from exhaustion. <br />
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We have been working on the play for about a month. Not a lot of time to get a solid hold of a production, but our group was so wonderful we managed anyway. Our dress rehearsal was okay, our first performance was even better, and the second one was even better than that! It was great to watch the actors grow like that. <br />
But before all of this, I was really scared. It wasn't until the final days before the performance that the whole thing was coming together. I was afraid that we wouldn't be able to have a polished show to give our audience. <br /><br />And, I was afraid that the audience wouldn't like the play anyway. Naturally, when you write something, you want the audience to like it. It may be a vain wish, but it's a wish I had anyway. The first time we performed, the audience barely laughed at all, and I was devastated. The reception was still good, but what I wanted most was for people to be happy and laugh out loud. The second performance was much better. We got a lot of laughs, and I felt like the hard work that the actor's had put into the performance was finally paid off. I mean, when you're on stage and you're giving it your all, it means so much when you have an audience willing to respond. <br />
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So yes, it went very well. I am so proud of the actors and actresses who took part in this. This will be the last play I will share with some of my dearest friends, so it ends on such a bittersweet note. Still, I'm happy for the experience. The cast did such a lovely job. <br />
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We had a great cast party as well. We played volley ball and it was a lot of fun, but mostly we just soaked up being around each other. It's great being with friends. <br />
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After that, my family and I went home and I went to sleep! It was a busy two days, indeed! It is finally time to hang up my costume for Baljeeta Regina Flavorita Gorbachev. A sad parting, but my character will never be far away from my heart. <br />
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In other news, I auditioned for a play at the Community Theatre of Terre Haute today. It was for the musical "Hairspray". I enjoyed myself so much. I was really nervous, though. <br />
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You were expected to sing a short song, read lines, and learn a dance routine. When it was my turn to sing, I was shaking so bad I think I was vibrating on stage. Singing isn't my strong point, though! <br />
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After that we did learn a dance. I am so pathetic at dancing, but the choreographer put it in such a way that even I managed to learn the part. I had a blast! When we performed it onstage, I put my all into it. I wasn't as good as the others, of course, but I like to think that I had the most pep. (Besides some guy named Matt. He was a spindly bundle of energy) The director said that what they were looking for most was a great attitude, so I think I had that down.<br />
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We read lines after that. I totally got to say three lines! Think it will help me get a part? Ah, oh well. Even if I don't get the part it was a really good experience. <br />
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That's the update for me! If this post seems dry, I apologize. Seriously, you should see me right now. I'm lying on the couch like half-cooked pancake. So tired! <br /><br />I hope you guys are all doing well. Sloshy, why don't you sing us out?<br />
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SLOSHY: <em>Stand in the place where you live. Now face north. Think about direction and wonder why you haven't -- </em><br />
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Okay, okay. That's enough.<br />
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I'll get Adele to sing us out next time.<br />
<br />
Esther<br />
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<br />Hannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-87577875695457467822012-08-01T22:39:00.000-04:002012-08-01T22:39:18.754-04:00The Rambling in 'Mercurial Ramblings'<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Back when we started this blog, Esther said that in her previous blogging experience, the main problem was coming up with things to talk about. Then, I thought to myself "that will never happen to me." Well, it did. Yes, there are a million and one things that I could share with you about things that I am learning, things happening in my life, what God is doing in me, etc., etc., etc. However, I am honestly not sure if those things are interesting enough for you to read that I should even take the time to write them out. In addition, tonight I am in a rambling mood. However, don't worry; I should be back to my normal self soon. =)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyways....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, last night I watched Michael Phelps become the most decorated Olympian in history. I was super excited! Yes, I realize that social media is all over this subject, even hitting up to 37,000 Tweets per minute (yes, you read that correctly). What do you think? In your opinion, who is the best Olympian in history? I personally don't care who you answer, because I have seen many amazing athletes perform, and even more have done so before my time. However, I also want you (Americans particularly) to be respectful in your answers because almost 20% (on average) of our viewers are from somewhere other than the United States. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Going to the fact that we have such a large number of international viewers...that makes me super excited!! I love people who aren't from the U.S. In all honesty, I would often rather be somewhere other than the United States, but, alas, it is not time for me to do that. =(</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A group of seven friends and I (the internship that I may or may not have told you about in a previous post...) are planning a middle school retreat for this weekend. As far as I know, there are twenty-one people coming for sure. That may not seem like many to you, but coming from a town in which the average graduating class is fifty, it's a lot. I am SO excited about it!! We all are actually! I will be sure to let you all know how it went sometime after it is over. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm craving chocolate right now. It sounds really, really good. Unfortunately, I don't have any. =( Earlier today I saw a recipe in Woman's Day for vanilla ice cream with grilled nectarines and raspberry sauce. It looked amazing. It looked something like this:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVN8HcCiPsrHx_duO8aGFHZdfRecHJ5vtgoCBYfH26bCgZ2okyWmBgxzfiyaoTg9b9HQVjvF2g1lbfBdOdmZeUUrlzzJL5jXaJDPWuFTQNh9ZJGMc_HMvllYJavJrbEodjvHQ5DZIol5A/s1600/ice+craem,+grilled+peaches+and+raspberry+sauce.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVN8HcCiPsrHx_duO8aGFHZdfRecHJ5vtgoCBYfH26bCgZ2okyWmBgxzfiyaoTg9b9HQVjvF2g1lbfBdOdmZeUUrlzzJL5jXaJDPWuFTQNh9ZJGMc_HMvllYJavJrbEodjvHQ5DZIol5A/s1600/ice+craem,+grilled+peaches+and+raspberry+sauce.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nectarines make me think of peaches, which are one of my favorite fruits. I had one for lunch. It was super yummy! Speaking of peaches, have you heard the song <i>Georgia Peaches</i> by Lauren Alaina? If you haven't you really should, so I am posting it here - just for you. However, if you have already heard it, you should hear it again.</span></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/qfWmFevHdQo?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Isn't it good? I like country music...There are so many good country songs out there. If you like country music, who is your favorite artist? I really like Scotty McCreery, Josh Turner, Carrie Underwood (have you heard her song <i>Good Girl</i>?? It's so good.), Lauren Alaina, Jason Aldean, Luke Bryan, Eric Church (love his song <i>Springsteen</i>!! Well, "love" is a very strong word, but I really, really like it!) Rascall Flatts...man, there are so many good artists and groups out there. Of course, there are also some really bad ones...have you ever noticed that the most catchy songs are the worst ones to listen too? Take <i>Whistle</i> by Flo Rida for example. It is a catching song and I find myself singing it way to often, but it is not a good song at all. I mean, just read the lyrics! Actually don't. Just avoid the song altogether. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well, I need to go do some things before I head off to bed, so I will talk to you all later. Oh, and I would like some feedback on the ramblings post...It is so completely different from what I normally post that I want to know what you think of it. So please leave a comment below!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Blessings,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hannah</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Hannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-35367479079262245082012-07-30T17:40:00.001-04:002012-07-30T17:40:46.280-04:00"Yellow Plus Red" -- A Short StoryIt's a pleasure to behold your lovely faces again. <br />
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Since Hannah so kindly shared a lovely piece of literature, I thought I would share a piece of my own "literature".<br />
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SLOSHY THE KAPPA: What's with the quotation marks? <br />
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I assure you I don't know what you're talking about. Anyway, I am going to share with you some of my "literature".<br />
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SLOSHY THE KAPPA: There it is again!<br />
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Am I going to have to bring out the rubber ducky again?<br />
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SLOSHY THE KAPPA: . . .<br />
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Anyway, I used to be an avid part of a writing site called The Young Writers Society. I don't participate it in it as often now, as the site has diminished somewhat, but it's still a wonderful place to share your writing. I used to enter some contests, and this piece I wrote is one of those contest entries.<br />
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The rules for the contest were that you had to use a random prompt generator to fuel the idea for your story, and the story had to be under 1000 words. I went through a lot of stupid ones before I found a prompt I liked. The prompt I chose was this:<br />
"Your story is about a historian in a mental institution wandering the highlands."<br />
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If that sounds impossible to logically work with, that's because it is. So I decided to be a little crazy with it. So indeed, I did write a story about a historian in a mental institution wandering the highlands, and I'm proud of it. Please, read the story and share your thoughts. <br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> "Yellow Plus Red"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They put me in here because I'm afraid of the color orange. </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My fear is completely logical, but they don't think it is so I'm in here. White walls -- soft, composed of thick doughy squares that look like couch cushions all sewn together. So white. Not orange. </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's completely logical that I hate the color. Let me tell you why. One, it's ugly. It's the exact color of the bloody pus that oozes out of your ear after your eardrum bursts from an infection. It's vibrant, but it doesn't belong: it clashes with any color it comes into contact with. It's an unnatural mix of red and yellow. Whenever I see an orange flower I think that that flower isn't actually real; it's just another illusion mocking me, just because I hate the color and the world knows it and it wants to show me that it knows it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The world can't mock me because I'm behind these walls, but sometimes orange comes and prints small, bright footsteps all over my room, and I panic and throw myself against the couch cushions, trying to drown out the noise I begin to hear. The noise goes </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tap. <br />Tap. <br />Tap. </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and it repeats over and over and it won't shut up. I know that it's orange's fault. It's completely logical. I'm a logical man. </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yet I'm here. </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm one-hundred percent positive that I am a historian. I know of the past, thus, I'm a historian. I have brown hair, tinged with gray, which falls past my eyes. I want to get a haircut, but they won't let me close to sharp objects, and I don't trust them around me with sharp objects. Honestly, I would give anything for a sharp object right now. I would prick my finger and I'd wait and see if blood comes out, and if I see red I'll know I'm alive. For all I know I could be dead; no one has told me otherwise. But I might be alive because in my mind I'm living, and in my mind I'm wandering the highlands. </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The hills are bright green, brighter than the highlands should be, but in my place I see what I want to. The landscape rolls up and down like a blanket flapping in the wind. The sun is completely obscured with a thick layer of clouds, thank goodness. Instead, light seems to appear randomly. Everything of interest gives a light, and the most interesting thing is her. </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Blank, wide, eyes stare at me. I move, but her eyes do not follow. They stay focused at the same spot. Her red lips are parted. Her skin is blanched and bloodless, with small, blue veins that branch along her throat. Her head is tilted too far to the right. It would give her a painful crick, always being like that, but since she doesn't feel anything, I think she’s fine with it. She hangs in the air, about one foot off of the ground. Nothing’s keeping her up there. </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She's always hanging, and I'm always standing. It hasn't changed since they brought me here. When I choose to see her, I can never do anything except stand. I want to touch her, but I can't because the world knows I want to touch her and it wants me to know that I can't touch her. </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She has a bracelet that's silver, with a small key on it that bounces off her wrist in the breeze: </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tap. <br />Tap. <br />Tap. </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We stand together in silent companionship, and I’m happy, I think. But then she speaks. </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've forgotten what words sound like. I began to ignore them when they took me here, after they said I had a nervous breakdown. I forgot after the antiseptic smiles phased to placid expressions, then to exasperated looks. All I have left are the voices inside my head, but I cannot actually hear them. They are whispers escaping open lips, never inflected or pronounced, yet I understand them. </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So whispers escape her gaping mouth and they mean, </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"<em>Why am I here?"</em> </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I mean back, </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>"Because you're my everything."</em> </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A chill runs down my spine. She whispers, </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>"Your Everything is Nothing."</em> </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The highlands begin to swirl. Light emanates from strange places, as if it doesn't know where it belongs. The clouds form strange shapes, unmasking the sun which covers the world in glaring light. Everything is changing, and I don't understand. What has broken? Slowly, her feet land on the ground. Her neck's crooked, but she’s closer now. I see the dark bruise on her neck. She strides away.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I hear </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tap. <br />Tap. <br />Tap. </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With each sound, I’m assaulted with a memory. Memories that I had repressed but were coming back. I see us walking, with her neck perfectly straight, and I wonder why we are holding hands. I remember. </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>"Wait!"</em> </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>"Your Everything is Nothing."</em> </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Another tap and I see a rope. Tap. I see her hanging. Tap. Her orange shoes hang limply above the ground. Tap. And I cannot look away. Tap. I am paralyzed, but all I see are those shoes. Tap. Orange shoes. Tap. Why can’t I do something? Tap. Why can’t I look away? </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Because she is my Everything. </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And my Everything is nothing. </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wake up screaming, ranting, raving. I thrust myself against the walls, pounding them. They pour in, and pin me down. Their tone means to say it's okay, but it's not okay. Orange foot prints stain my vision. The world knows she was all that was left of me and it wants me to know that by taking her away. Sharp, glinting needles fade away along with my consciousness. I’m going back to the highlands. </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They put me here because I’m afraid of the color orange. My fear is completely logical. </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yet I'm here.</span><br />
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Well, what did you think? <br />
I didn't win with this story, but I didn't expect to. It was still a great experience, and the first short short story I have ever written.<br />
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Don't be afraid of the rubber duck,<br />
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EstherHannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-88348257120546025452012-07-28T21:07:00.001-04:002012-07-28T21:07:47.891-04:00Something to Share<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My friends, I am so sorry that it has taken me so long to get this post up. Life is far too busy and I am afraid that it cuts down my time on the internet (altogether, not a bad thing at all - it just means that my blogging is regretfully hindered). Anyways, I am still here and will be trying to get back into a routine as school starts back up in a couple weeks. </span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today, I want to share a little poem-like writing with you. I have had it pinned to my wall for years and just finally took it down in order that I can see it as I write you this post (note* It will be going right back up on my fabulous wall as soon as I am done. *smile*).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><u>It's Up to You</u></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>"One song can spark a moment,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>One flower can wake a dream.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>One tree can start a forest,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>One bird can herald spring.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>One smile begins a friendship,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>One handclasp lifts a soul.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>One star can guide a ship at sea,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>One word can frame the goal.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJnpzNDcSPyazSlmvOlCyDAbfr67rfqyqjN0ZFDg59dWNSifo-ShZyimq3ilQSsfwU0R2kUJeAmaghCpop-EVV0AFWYaBrXwfHCGUq9plDxgvv_y4TRp0SICP1ci912A3f-VWAGgJ1oqc/s1600/a+smile.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJnpzNDcSPyazSlmvOlCyDAbfr67rfqyqjN0ZFDg59dWNSifo-ShZyimq3ilQSsfwU0R2kUJeAmaghCpop-EVV0AFWYaBrXwfHCGUq9plDxgvv_y4TRp0SICP1ci912A3f-VWAGgJ1oqc/s200/a+smile.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>One vote can change a nation,</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>One sunbeam lights a room. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>One candle wipes out darkness,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>One laugh will conquer gloom.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB_djWH2Yl6z7C7y5YtATd-IeLBURO-cIs1BxxS7G2_I01Rv9pF9dMdY-2pyVwdVDGo4-qPnEs6Q9p18vpVEGUiYyJvSTD7WYgwDnUTu-TLrfovUXZ0IYRmE8tsgDQJtlRrnpHody0CnA/s1600/laughter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB_djWH2Yl6z7C7y5YtATd-IeLBURO-cIs1BxxS7G2_I01Rv9pF9dMdY-2pyVwdVDGo4-qPnEs6Q9p18vpVEGUiYyJvSTD7WYgwDnUTu-TLrfovUXZ0IYRmE8tsgDQJtlRrnpHody0CnA/s200/laughter.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>One step must start each journey,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>One word must start each prayer.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>One hope will raise our spirits,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>One touch will show you care.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbCVq_LlNDqxILmLjGuaVaBbl3XnMdamByteezkome3Nn0Qvytg_YxcMQtG9Hvy1WHWwG7WoODYGWxJvz-TTC2ph4GubAc0mXJajIUIqTr3A87_P0YXCBm3I2K5P0LjcTclCuM-B9NaTk/s1600/one+step.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="157" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbCVq_LlNDqxILmLjGuaVaBbl3XnMdamByteezkome3Nn0Qvytg_YxcMQtG9Hvy1WHWwG7WoODYGWxJvz-TTC2ph4GubAc0mXJajIUIqTr3A87_P0YXCBm3I2K5P0LjcTclCuM-B9NaTk/s200/one+step.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>One voice can speak with wisdom,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>One heart can know what's true.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>One life can make a difference,</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>You see, it's up to you."</i></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUjxCaAba7mfoyVd_DIJIVLbpM3cqtu5DY5ut0DHTiiRa7cp-j_sw7zlcT0BjdVzViHZljSi_3jgeRlHjo5PR3ndZgTS30SEit-Ovmq3pEO8_AJrLZPrQbEv-FI3p87fZ-e7MLAkRIEh0/s1600/elderly+gentleman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="136" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUjxCaAba7mfoyVd_DIJIVLbpM3cqtu5DY5ut0DHTiiRa7cp-j_sw7zlcT0BjdVzViHZljSi_3jgeRlHjo5PR3ndZgTS30SEit-Ovmq3pEO8_AJrLZPrQbEv-FI3p87fZ-e7MLAkRIEh0/s200/elderly+gentleman.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>~ Author Unknown</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Don't you just love this? I certainly do, but then, you know me and my feelings on a life of impact. I challenge you today (yes, another challenge from Hannah) to be that song, that tree, that star. Be the life that makes a difference. We all have a choice, what matters is what we choose.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Blessings,</span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;">Hannah</span>Hannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-38974523318863411642012-07-25T16:30:00.000-04:002012-07-25T16:35:38.109-04:00Volleyball Comets (And a Little Life Update)<br />
Greetings and salutations my delightful readers. I love you all so much that I should write a song about your glory. This song would come in second only to the songs I sing about my guinea pig's glory, but can you blame me? <br />
<br />
He's perfect. <br />
<br />
Anyway, I thought today I would elucidate my volleyball experience. V-ball is starting back up in my humble life, which is very exciting for me. This is an interesting development because to be frank, as a wee lass, I despised volleyball. I always thought the sport looked boring and ridiculous. Oh, how wrong I was! Volleyball might be the most interesting sport to play and watch ever! <br />
<br />
You jump.<br />
<br />
<img height="208" id="il_fi" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/3/38/Volleyball_game.jpg/260px-Volleyball_game.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="260" /><br />
<br />
You dive.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://encrypted-tbn3.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRu8jmEX4k-rKF9RdSjvKZ4CngNGhBoYLt_nnhv1JDNQPqtQbxU0g" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" class="rg_hi uh_hi" data-height="186" data-width="271" height="186" id="rg_hi" src="https://encrypted-tbn3.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRu8jmEX4k-rKF9RdSjvKZ4CngNGhBoYLt_nnhv1JDNQPqtQbxU0g" style="height: 186px; width: 271px;" width="271" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />You smack people in the face with a raging volleyball comet--yes, it is brilliant. <br />
<br />
I started playing a year ago, and I was terrible. One year later, I have trained, evolved, and ...<br />
<br /><br />Well, I'm still terrible. But my Ocean of Terrible has ebbed off of the shores of Hopelessness, and is now lapping happily against the Jagged Rock of Bliss while the little mermaid sings a brilliant tune about love. I'm sad that I only have one year left of volleyball; it it has been a delightful experience for me. Let's focus on my experience this year so far. <br />
<br />
Volleyball was my motive for starting to get back into shape again. This inspired my <a href="http://mercurialramblings.blogspot.com/2012/06/blissful-horror-that-is-jogging.html" target="_blank">The Blissful Horror That is Jogging</a> blog post. So yeah, my first attempts to get in shape haven't worked out so well. <br />
<br />
But a few weeks before practice began, I started working out again, and I feel great. I still have a ways to go, though. I have trouble catching my breath during exercise. I have always suspected that I have a weak heart and lungs, and it is in my genetics to have them. So I have been working a lot more on my cardiovascular workouts lately. I am able to catch my breath a lot faster now, and it is wonderful to know that murderous chicken with a hoe will have caught me because I tripped, and not because I ran out of air and started flapping around like a fish. <br />
<br />
Still, I die during practice. I often feel like I demand my body during workouts, but during practice it's taken to a whole new level. I particularly loathe the conditioning practices, which are spent running you into the ground. I also cherish them, because they make me work harder than I thought possible. Sometimes it is frustrating to not go as fast as the other players, or not last as long as the sprinters, but I know that I will only improve from here.<br />
<br />
Well, except for the speed part. I think I'll always run like someone with slugs for feet. (I'm going to blame the botched foot surgery for that one, but that would be making excuses)<br />
<br />
In terms of skill, I think I have improved already this season. My setting (propelling the ball with your hands) has improved quite a bit, and I have gotten strong enough to almost get the ball over the net when I serve over hand.<br />
<br />
Almost.<br />
<br />
It's a funny story, at least to me. You see, I have a tendency to grunt when I serve the ball. I mean really grunt. One time, my coach told me to serve over hand. <br />
<br />
COACH: Serve over hand!<br />
<br />
ESTHER: Sure, okay!<br />
<br />
<em>(Esther tosses ball in the air and prepares to slap at it.)</em><br />
<br />
ESTHER: HRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAH!<br />
<br />
<em>(Esther smacks the ball. It goes four feet.)</em><br />
<br />
If only my arm was as strong as my grunts. I feel like an unsuccessful version of a Williams sister.<br />
<br />
But yes, practices are going really well. I am very happy to have made friends on the team. They are all like a family to me. I really look forward to progressing through the year with them. Some players have left, and I miss them terribly, but I will persevere. <br />
At this point I would like to thank my coach for all the hard work she does for the team. She has a busy life outside volleyball, and she still uses her time to allow us to gather together to play this lovely sport. You inspire me to work harder coach, and I hear your voice whenever I get up for practice in the morning: "Drink plenty of water at least an hour before practice!" <br />
<br />
Wiser words have not been spoken. <br />
--------<br />
<br />
In other words, my novel is coming along again, finally. Up to 40k. I had to cut some things out and start over again, but I think I'm back on pace. <br />
<br />
I am playing Final Fantasy IX. I'm on disc three. Having lots of fun! I'm not sure how high I should level up for parts though, which is frustrating. <br />
<br />
I'm also reading a book called <em>We Need To Talk About Kevin, </em>which is hauntingly beautiful so far. I will tell you more about it later. <br />
<br />
I wrote a short story. It's terrible. <br />
<br />
I have made three movie trailers in my head and I desperately wish that I could create them. But alas, I do not have the CGI technology. <br />
<br />
<em>And </em>I have done a secret ritual called <em>Kyrr'Tah. </em>It's supposed to make the weather cooler. You'll see the results soon.<br />
<br />
Don't walk when you can run,<br />
<br />
Esther<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>Hannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-41702998752599764582012-07-23T21:43:00.000-04:002012-07-24T10:02:04.080-04:00The Boy and The Starfish<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">No, I have not completely disappeared. Sorry that my posts are a bit late in coming lately...the county fair started last week and that has kept me very busy, as I have been there for something every day for the last five days. I will try to do better. </span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjpSX6FC0_n9GtfSA77YaMUVRnJFByAtRCMWWtLWh0w-0YH7y2oj3DaBCRuCrAEqbHkVyrEnmMYJ8YjXF4AXTo5CWTl3f6jIvwDhtOqvN-tz7UeZvvsv2dBPkspra0YPweX75kMTV7Qkc/s1600/Starfish+on+the+beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjpSX6FC0_n9GtfSA77YaMUVRnJFByAtRCMWWtLWh0w-0YH7y2oj3DaBCRuCrAEqbHkVyrEnmMYJ8YjXF4AXTo5CWTl3f6jIvwDhtOqvN-tz7UeZvvsv2dBPkspra0YPweX75kMTV7Qkc/s1600/Starfish+on+the+beach.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Have I ever shared the story of the boy and the starfish with you? I can't remember...anyways, I love this story. It's about impact. You all know that I love impacting people. =) So, because we have lots of new readers (yay!!), I will share it with you anyways, even if I have shared it with you before.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;"></span><br />
<div style="font-style: italic;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white;">A man was walking along a deserted beach at sunset. As he walked he could see a
young boy in the distance, as he drew nearer he noticed that the boy kept bending down,
picking something up and throwing it into the water.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white;">Time and again he kept hurling things
into the ocean.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="font-style: italic; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;">
As the man approached even closer, he was able to see that the boy was picking up starfish
that had been washed up on the beach and, one at a time he was throwing them back into the water.
</span></div>
<div style="font-style: italic; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: italic;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white;">The man asked the boy what he was doing, the boy replied,"I am throwing these washed up
starfish back into the ocean, or else they will die through lack of oxygen. "But", said
the man, "You can't possibly save them all, there are thousands on this beach, and this
must be happening on hundreds of beaches along the coast. You can't possibly make a difference."</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white;">The boy looked down, frowning for a moment; then bent down to pick up
another starfish, smiling as he threw it back into the sea.
He replied, </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;"><i style="background-color: white;"></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;"><i style="background-color: white;"><div style="display: inline !important;">
<b>"I made a huge difference to that one!" </b></div>
</i></span></div>
<br />
<div style="font-style: italic; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;"> ~Author Unknown~</span></div>
<div style="font-style: italic; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisKYl9WjqIPEUDAmDTU28bGGXnH7-UjlyJgXpvyfYZ8gyWpkVS7C0gNtiqvWtobo3YTwKzcUy32AkB7iHWyH5J6INyuPIdYbB_usihETtgH-eyEsgpir9fN7nw1lxD-4ghOKYvtNh2hx4/s1600/Starfish+on+the+Beach2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisKYl9WjqIPEUDAmDTU28bGGXnH7-UjlyJgXpvyfYZ8gyWpkVS7C0gNtiqvWtobo3YTwKzcUy32AkB7iHWyH5J6INyuPIdYbB_usihETtgH-eyEsgpir9fN7nw1lxD-4ghOKYvtNh2hx4/s320/Starfish+on+the+Beach2.jpg" width="320" /></a> People who tell me that I can't do things make me mad. Honest. I don't want people to tell me that I can't do something, particularly when it involves impacting someone. A thought that someone sparked in my brain recently is this: if I were to spend the next twenty years of my life, living among an unreached people group, completely isolated from the rest of the world, and only saw <b>one</b> person come to know the Lord as their Savior, would it be worth it? Is one person worth investing twenty years of my life into? I've come to a conclusion: yes. Why? Because, it made a world of difference to that one person. It changed their life forever. That is certainly worth twenty years of my life. I challenge you to ask yourself this question. Do you consider it to be worth twenty years of your life? Think about it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;">As Esther and I have previously said, we love followers and comments (especially the latter!), so write something below and make our day! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;">Also, if any of you would like to possibly guest post on our blog at some point (particularly all of you fabulous international viewers - I would love to hear about your life in whatever country you live in!), send us an email. You can reach us through our 'Contact Us' page on the sidebar. When I say this, I am not saying that we will accept any post that you write. It will have to be previewed before submission. However, if this is something that you are even just a little bit interested in, send us a message and we can talk about it. =) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;">Blessings,</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;">Hannah</span></span>Hannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7226752795845891065.post-72132099535560120162012-07-21T16:28:00.002-04:002012-07-21T16:28:58.694-04:00Eight Actors That Make Me CheerCheer seemed like a relatively unhumiliating verb. The other options were "squee", "KYAA!", and "hehehehehehe". <br />
<br />
So, knowing that my most avid readers are male, I decided to list all of the male actors that I love. I figured that the guys would totally be interested in my "squeeing" on this subject matter. (Ha ha, the jokes on you, guys)<br />
<br />
If you are a girl, please read and "KYAA" with me in the comments page. If you're a guy, well, just comment anyway. I LIKE comments. <br />
<br />
It is interesting. Usually, I fall in love with actors for one particular role. While some actors manage to make my heart strings play like a perfectly tuned harp, it's usually a singular role that makes me remember them. So, I will be listing the role I remember these actors for as well. <br />
<br />
We have a lot of ground to cover! Let's get on with the love fest!<br />
<br />
In no particular order....<br />
<br />
<strong>1. Jeremy Renner </strong><strong></strong><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiztJB2mSglXaiYMDN-wfemA_Fg6VDXtDaxjBuiYMqg0jqIWjWszHZUm8CST1wVLQvpzP5pn6uH8-siIGdU995azEXoBxD-p4pUB0x-hfBRYLK4-U9E0h3rFSMBETzuEtF06vSpS-5bf3Q/s1600/jeremy-renner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiztJB2mSglXaiYMDN-wfemA_Fg6VDXtDaxjBuiYMqg0jqIWjWszHZUm8CST1wVLQvpzP5pn6uH8-siIGdU995azEXoBxD-p4pUB0x-hfBRYLK4-U9E0h3rFSMBETzuEtF06vSpS-5bf3Q/s320/jeremy-renner.jpg" width="252" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You look nice in that shirt, my moose.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<strong>Moment of Complete Adoration -- Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol </strong><br />
<br />
Let's start out strong here. I never knew who Jeremy Renner was before I watched Mission Impossible, but he caught my eye when I did see him. He has a really special type of charisma that makes you hang onto his words. His characters always seem to hold more depth than that of other actors. <br />
<br />
I must admit this, however. My crush kind of started when I saw his butt.<br />
<br />
But seriously. Personality. That's what counts. <br />
<br />
AND HE'S GONNA BE IN THE NEW BOURNE MOVIE!<br />
<br />
<strong>You can also watch him in -- The Hurt Locker </strong><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<strong>2. Hugh Jackman </strong><br />
<br />
<strong>The Moment of My Adoration -- X-Men</strong><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dude, nice tee-shirt.</td></tr>
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Hugh Jackman was my first celebrity crush. I have always gone for the tall, dark types, and Hugh fits this perfectly. I fell in love with him when I watched X-men, but I've seen him in plenty of other movies. <br />
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But come on. Wolverine? Look at that hair! It shouldn't be possible to pull off, but he does. That's why I will always love Hugh Jackman.<br />
My favorite expression of his is that grimace/eyebrow raise that he seems to do whenever he plays those gruff, I-don't-care-about-anything characters. (He plays a lot of them)<br />
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I am considering naming my son Hugh. Kind of manly, yes?<br />
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<strong>You can also watch him in: Wolverine, Real Steel</strong><br />
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<strong>3. Michael Fassbender </strong><br />
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<strong>Moment of my Adoration -- X-Men: First Class</strong><br />
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Michael Fassbender is one of my recent loves. I met him at X-Men: First Class, and I haven't been the same.<br />
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Like Renner, Fassbender has a special charisma that oozes from his pores. He is an incredibly talented actor. I haven't seen much of his works, but from what I've seen he may be one of the best on the list.<br />
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Also, his name is <em>Fassbender. </em>Dude, I love that. <br />
Fassbender. Fassbender. Fassbender. Spell check is going crazy right now. Byahahaha. <br />
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<strong>You can also watch him in: Prometheus</strong><br />
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<strong>4. Matt Damon</strong><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I seem to have a thing for guys in tee-shirts. . . </td></tr>
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<strong>When I Fell In Love -- The Bourne Trilogy</strong><br />
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Matt Damon was the epitome of coolness when he played Jason Bourne. I don't think you could get any cooler with a role unless you were Aragorn or something like that. If you haven't watched "Bourne", please do so I can talk to you about it.<br />
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The particular reason why I like Matt Damon is that he's smart. You can just tell that he is really intelligent, and I like that. Out of all the guys on this list, I would probably pick him to be my best friend. <br />
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<strong>You can also watch him in -- The Adjustment Bureau</strong><br />
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<strong>5. Mathew Macfadyen </strong><br />
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<strong>When I fell in love -- Pride and Predjuce</strong><br />
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Owner of the easiest to pronounce name, Mathew Macfadyen captured my heart when I watched "Pride and Predjuce".<br />
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<em>Pride and Prejudice </em>is one of my favorite books, and it is also my favorite movie besides the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Mathew's performance as Mr. Darcy is subtle, romantic, and completely sigh-inducing. <br />
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I don't think I've sighed more during a movie. <br />
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Not to mention, he strikes me as a swell guy. <br />
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I like swell.<br />
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<strong>You can also watch him in -- The Three Musketeers</strong><br />
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<strong>6. Denzel Washington</strong><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't see a tee-shirt. Shh..</td></tr>
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<br />
<strong>When I fell in love -- Deja Vu </strong><br />
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Denzel, how I love thee. He beats out Will Smith, and is thus the only black guy on my list. He has quite the impressive filmography, so if you are needing an actor to crush on, he would be a great choice because he is in a <em>lot </em>of good movies. <br />
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Denzel might just be the coolest actor ever. He always plays a deep, interesting character. This is because, in reality, he is actually deep and interesting. <br />
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He also has a strut that would make Tom Cruise jealous. I think Denzel's "I'm awesome walk" comes in second only to Jason Bourne's. <br />
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<strong>You can also watch him in -- Man on Fire</strong><br />
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<strong>7. Jude Law </strong><br />
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<strong>When he caught my eye -- Sherlock Holmes: Game of Shadows</strong><br />
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Jude Law is funny and clever and handsome. So I like him a little. <br />
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Just a bit. <br />
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He is also an excellent dramatic reader. Please, listen to Jude Law read Lady Gaga's "Poker Face" out loud. It's hilarious. <br />
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HXnZZWO2Uq4">JUDE LAW IS GOOD AT READING THINGS. :)</a><br />
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<strong>8. Viggo Mortensen</strong><br />
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<strong> </strong>ALSO KNOWN AS<br />
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<strong> </strong><br />
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Hee Hee! Ha ha! Hahaahahahah! HAHAHAHAAAH! Hooo! Heee.....<br />
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*inhale*<br />
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Okay, I became a fan through Lord of the Rings, but that doesn't mean I just like Aragorn. Viggo (pronounced VEE-GO) is a sweet, sweet person. He's just so nice you can't help but like him. He has a strange but good sense of humor, and a great disposition. <br />
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<strong>You can also watch him in -- Hidalgo</strong><br />
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<strong>--------</strong><br />
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There you have it! My favorite actors. Do you share the same feelings for any of these actors? Now quick, run with purpose to the comment section!<br />
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Don't kidnap Aragorn, (or else I will murder you)<br />
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Esther<br />
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<strong></strong>Hannah and Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13578082415510923785noreply@blogger.com7