tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80015867587396581282024-03-18T21:16:09.074-07:00Another Day With KKThe oft awkward and mildly wacky tales of a girl on a journey.crowder4preshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15425054856636967608noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001586758739658128.post-21002816435683188282009-12-01T21:55:00.000-08:002012-02-17T19:04:44.429-08:00I brought you here today to ask you a very special question...<a href="http://video.movies.go.com/eaglevsshark/site/"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323270282145769618" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD3k8hT53cvpAmkZS3mpgH6gIeRQm09E8LbLvjyVe_QRiGV4n9pRNjIIUfZngUjAjtH15_37lyg_u2YNWdMeu4M8KHjDN9QQgJwApS2OytgpNrrylTvS_DTeyp8ly13uPS_dp0BeWayVg/s320/evs.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 214px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a> <br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eagle_vs_Shark">Eagle vs. Shark</a></center><br />
So I recently discovered this movie and I must admit I really enjoyed it. It's painfully awkward at times but endearing at times too. So many memorable quotes... the <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0494222/quotes">imdb page</a> doesn't do it justice. The stars of the movie are Jemaine Clement (of <a href="http://www.hbo.com/conchords/">flight of the conchords </a>fame) and Loren Horsley (who co-wrote the movie).<br />
<br />
My favorite is the 9 year-old who is in a band... I wish I could have found a way to express myself artistically when I was 9.<br />
<br />
P.S. - I now want to pack up and move to New Zealand so I can be surrounded by people with amazing accents.<br />
<br />
Here is a trailer.<br />
<br />
Enjoy!<br />
<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Sh_OoO91AEo&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0">
<param name="allowFullScreen" value="true">
<param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always">
<br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Sh_OoO91AEo&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>crowder4preshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15425054856636967608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001586758739658128.post-34216940380995031912009-11-03T18:38:00.000-08:002012-02-17T19:05:30.687-08:00It's been emotionalI decided that it was time to part ways with Time Warner Cable. It wasn't anything personal... strike that... It was very personal. They were robbing me blind!<br />
<br />
So, I called yesterday and the department I needed was closed. Lovely. So I called back today and the first operator I spoke to asked me fifteen different questions "for security". When he asked for my pin number I told him I didn't remember setting up a pin number... he had no sympathy. I told him I would call back when I had more proof that I was me. I called back and got a very friendly lady. She asked why I was cancelling and before I could even think about it I responded "I'm moving... out of the country..." what happened next I was totally not prepared for.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><b>Operator:</b> OH! oh no! Who said you could do that?<br /><b>Me:</b> I'm sorry, what?<br /><b>Operator:</b> Who said you could do that<br /><b>Me:</b> Umm... no one?<br /><b>Operator:</b> Well everyone is really going to miss you.<br /><b>Me:</b> OH! umm... yeah... i guess...<br /><b>Operator:</b> You're one of those...<br /><b>Me:</b> I'm sorry?<br /><b>Operator:</b> You're one of those yesterday that made it rain. You made the clouds cry. You can't leave. What about everyone else? What are they going to do without you? People you see everyday they are going to miss you a lot.<br /><b>Me:</b> Yeah. Well. It's going to be okay.<br /><b>Operator:</b> (pause) Okay...<br /><b>Me:</b> Okay.<br /><b>Operator:</b> Well, you ARE really going to be missed. You will come back sometime right?<br /><b>Me:</b> Umm... yeah... occasionally<br /><b>Operator:</b> OK! Good! Well that's better than nothing.<br /><b>Me:</b> Okay, good!<br /><b>Operator: </b>So we can get this cancelled and when you have your new address you can update your account...<br /><b>Me:</b> Umm... okay. thanks<br /><b>Operator:</b> ...and I know I was being facetious earlier, but you really will be missed.<br /><b>Me:</b> Umm... okay. well, thank you.</span><br />
Yea! I KNOW!! What the blazes, right? My question is, don't they record those calls? Was she drinking on the job? That is SO not okay. There had to be like ten different codes of conduct that she broke within a span of two minutes. I thought I was cancelling my service, but it was really a break up. When it was all over I seriously felt like one of us should have said, "we can still be friends, right?"<br />
<br />
Somebody crossed the line and it certainly was not me. I don't need this from my cable provider. If I wanted to experience these kinds of gut wrenching emotions I would watch lifetime. I'm going to go lie down and not get out of bed until absolutely necessary.<br />
<br />
Also, in case you are wondering, my account had been active for a total of 5 months prior to this. And for the record, I could at some point in the near future be moving out of the country. That wasn't a total lie.crowder4preshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15425054856636967608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001586758739658128.post-26503381101740028692009-10-01T20:29:00.000-07:002012-02-17T19:05:13.503-08:00I'm not crying, I just have something in my eyeOk, you know those people who are moved to tears by hallmark commercials?...<br />
<br />
Let me say right now that I am not one of those people.<br />
<br />
And yet, every time I see this Target commercial I get a little misty eyed. It's just so freaking adorable. It's an amazing look at a family who loves one another and has fun together. I think it makes me emotional because it is a reminder of the important role our families have and why the family unit of one man and one woman, is so essential. Not to mention the fact that it totally makes me appreciate my family even more and it makes me want to settle down and start a family of my own.<br />
<br />
In different seasons of our lives we some times wonder about why we are here or if life has some deeper meaning. But deep down I think we all know that we are hear to love and be loved.<br />
<br />
Another amazing thing about this ad is that the fun activities are based around the home. Only one of the activities is not at home, when the kids are playing soccer. It's so easy to get caught up in "join this group", "sign up for this league", "make sure the kids are involved in x, y and z and they will grow up to be successful adults". But honestly, all kids really need is their parents to spend time with them.<br />
<br />
<b>Note:</b> They are a married couple. I noticed the wife is wearing a wedding ring in the poker table scene.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 130%;">Thank you, Target.</span><br />
Essentials September 2009: Meet Linda<br />
<object height="340" width="560"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BTwn78V8KGo&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0">
<param name="allowFullScreen" value="true">
<param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always">
<br /><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BTwn78V8KGo&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object>crowder4preshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15425054856636967608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001586758739658128.post-85721931651608669852008-11-19T16:21:00.000-08:002008-12-13T16:56:22.050-08:00Oh Snap!!!So the other day I turned on the TV and an infomercial was on for a product called the Flavor Wave Oven… a revolutionary infrared oven that is restaurant quality but available now for a three easy payments of... blah blah blah I was about to change the channel when the host turns and says, “Mr. T why don’t you come over here and let me show you this...” WHAT!?! Nooo way! And suddenly there he was. THE <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mr._T">Mr. T</a>!! From the A-Team and Rocky! Holy Crap!!! Where do I begin?... First of all, Mr. T is still alive? Where in the blazes has he been the past decade? This is too much. Please tell me Mr. T did not come out of retirement to do an infomercial.<br /><br />I was enthralled. I seriously sat down and watched the entire thing. There he was with his trademark hair style and looking just as intense and ready to beat somebody up as ever. I kept waiting for him to say “I pity the fool who doesn’t buy the flavor wave” and then it happened. The host made Mr. T a birthday cake which was odd since it wasn’t his birthday. (his words) But since she made it with the flavor wave he said, “I pity the fool who turns this down.” Brilliant. I almost want to buy one. Almost.<br /><br />Honestly, you can go to the website and buy your own flavor wave if you don't believe me.<br /><br />Stay healthy America and call now...<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.thane.com/products/housewares/flavorwave-turbo/flavorwave-turbo.php"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279435474456467938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_kKZsnNIZWC1RqFHZI0GRMtlcjgnutB6x23UV8SnudKBcPsRwlIK3anJDHMjmN3Ja9QqQiuo2pWhTg141iA7VQFbFG4BESBQp6Jj5cvmt0m53ri8B_lv05tGnSKVXH4TbliM0-pamGBc/s320/flavor+wave.JPG" border="0" /></a>crowder4preshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15425054856636967608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001586758739658128.post-50601373211261483162008-09-17T21:55:00.000-07:002008-12-07T15:24:54.257-08:00Me vs the Gecko<span style="font-family:georgia;">I have a gecko for a roommate... Don't get me wrong, geckos are good, they eat small bugs and such... I just don't want the little bugger in my living space. Please brace yourself. I am all about peace, but the story I am about to disclose involves a small degree of violence. I hope you will not think less of me. Here is how it all went down...<br /><br />I was watching TV one night enjoying some </span><a href="http://www.raisingcanes.com/"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Raising Cane's</span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;"> chicken strips when out of the corner of my eye I saw something on floor coming toward my foot. I am not what anyone would consider a drama queen...I am pretty laid back on the regular... but I tell you this now... Anything that is bug or insect like has Always ALWAYS made me a little uneasy. So when I thought I saw something moving by my foot I immediately jumped out of my seat and ran to turn on more lights. It was then that I saw what caught my eye, a gecko. Though I am from a quiet town in Texas I am not by any small stretch of the imagination a farm girl. So I do not know the proper way to deal with geckos... that being said, I am almost certain a true farm girl would not even be concerned. I live out in the middle of nowhere so there wasn't really anyone I could who could quickly come over and rescue me so I called my parents...<br /><br />Here is how that conversation went...<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Mom:</strong> Hello?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Me:</strong> Mom! I have a gecko!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Mom:</strong> a WHAT?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Me:</strong> a gecko... you know the small lizard things</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Mom:</strong> OH! OH NO! What are you going to do?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Me:</strong> I don't know. I don't know what to do. He's so small and he moves so quickly. I don't know how to get it out of here?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Mom:</strong> Oh my goodness, Katrina. Are you going to have to move?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Me:</strong> Mom. I don't think so. It's just one gecko. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Mom:</strong> I know, but are you okay with it being in there? Where are you going to sleep?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Me:</strong> Mom! Mom! I don't know! I just need to figure out how to get it out of here.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Mom:</strong> Oh my gosh. Just a second. let me let you talk to your dad. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Dad:</strong> Katrina? </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Me:</strong> Dad! I have a gecko.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Dad:</strong> A geico?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Me:</strong> No. a gecko. the small lizard thingys.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Dad:</strong> Oh. those are small why don't you just catch it and throw it outside.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Me:</strong> Dad! he's too fast. And I don't want to touch it. Can I step on it?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Dad:</strong> Yeah. Step on it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Me:</strong> Dad! No! Ewww. It's like a lizard! It has bones and stuff... I don't think I could step on it. Can I spray it with bug spray?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Dad:</strong> Yeah that might work. Katrina, you know the Bible says for us to take dominion over the animals and creeping things so you need to do that. Take dominion. You have dominion over that gecko. Find something you can hit it with and then scoop it up and throw it outside. Okay?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Me:</strong> okay....</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Dad:</strong> Ok. so find something you can hit it with.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Me:</strong> okay</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Dad:</strong> Your mom wants to know if you have called the front office yet</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Me:</strong> No... I don't think there is anything they could do</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Dad:</strong> Hang on... here's your mom</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Mom:</strong> Katrina, you need to call them and see if there is somewhere you can sleep tonight. They might even be able to move you into another apartment.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Me:</strong> Mom. It's just one gecko. I don't think they will let me move for that.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Mom:</strong> Well I don't think it would hurt to ask, Katrina. What if there are more?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Me:</strong> Mom, this is the first one I have seen inside my apartment. If I find more then yes, I will call them. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Mom:</strong> Ok... Your dad wants to know if you found something to hit it with</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Me:</strong> Hang on... I don't see him anymore. I need to see where he went.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Mom:</strong> What are you going to do to keep from going into your room?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Me:</strong> Mom! I'm trying not to think about that. I WILL find it. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Mom:</strong> okay, OKAY.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Me:</strong> Let me find it and I will call you guys back.</span><br /><br />I then proceeded to move and shake everything in my living room to no avail. I didn't see anything scurrying around anywhere. In my haste to come up with a solution I decided that geckos were cold blooded and therefore would run from high heat... so I am walking through my apartment with a blow dryer in one hand and bug spray in the other. I knew at the time that I looked stone crazy, but I didn't care... I had an unwelcome house guest. I even propped my front door open in the hopes that he would just run outside of his own volition. I am soooo thankful none of my neighbors walked by. If anyone had seen me they would have thought I was on serious drugs. I was systematically blow drying my furniture for crying out loud.<br /><br />This went on for a good five to ten minutes when I noticed a peculiar brown spot on the wall. I had him cornered now! Somehow, someway I eventually scared him back down to the ground and behind the entertainment unit where I then hit him with a power strip repeatedly.<br /><br />Yeah... I warned you this was a violent story. Anyway one Saturday afternoon a few weeks ago I saw him again. At least, I tell myself it was the same gecko. I refuse to contemplate the possibility of a whole family of geckos dwelling in my apartment with me. Anyway, I saw him crawling around near the fireplace so I think he has officially left the building because I haven't seen him since. I opted for an apartment with a lake view and this is what I got....crowder4preshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15425054856636967608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001586758739658128.post-56253211163713271982008-04-11T16:46:00.000-07:002009-05-13T21:28:13.442-07:00I'm sorry, are you from the past?<a href="http://www.channel4.com/programmes/the-it-crowd">The IT Crowd</a>.<br /><br />One Saturday afternoon a few weeks ago I happened to catch this show on <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_IT_Crowd">IFC</a> and was totally blown away.<br /><br />It's flippin' hilarious.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0512627/">Graham Linehan</a> is the writer and director, also involved is <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1027876/">Ash Atalla</a> who was one of the producers of The Office (UK). The IT Crowder was the 2008 International Emmy Award winner for Best Comedy. Did I mention that it is hilarious? Go <a href="http://whythatsdelightful.wordpress.com/">here</a> to see Graham's blog.<br /><br />Please check out this show.<br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gt9j80Jkc_A&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gt9j80Jkc_A&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_IT_Crowd">Wikipedia article</a>crowder4preshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15425054856636967608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001586758739658128.post-79464815210826137332007-11-30T20:30:00.000-08:002009-04-11T17:43:15.346-07:00Girl Power... I guess...<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0955353/">Women's Murder Club</a>. Fridays on ABC.<br /><br />I am a huge fan of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Angie_Harmon">Angie Harmon</a>. Partly because she is a Texan (that being said most Texans are pretty kind to their own except maybe the Dixie Chicks...) I also like her because she seems like good people... anyway I am totally hooked on her new show on ABC called <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Women%27s_Murder_Club">Women's Murder Club</a>. I was a little skeptical I mean there have been a handful of girl power shows (sex and the city, desperate housewives, first wives club... you get the point) but this show has moxy. The women are smart and they genuinely care about each other. Oh, and they are not man haters. That last part might have to do with the fact that the show is based on the book by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Patterson">James Patterson</a>.<br /><br />Side note: A recent episode featured a <a href="http://www.myspace.com/matkearney">Mat Kearney</a> song. "Won't Back Down." I seriously almost choked on my food when I heard the song come on. He's amazing. Oh, and the episode was pretty good too.<br /><br />Enjoy it while you can.<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rh3WcIuWxEc&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rh3WcIuWxEc&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>crowder4preshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15425054856636967608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001586758739658128.post-37577800933186090422007-03-07T06:31:00.000-08:002008-12-06T23:22:18.616-08:00The Accidental Nerd<center><span style="font-size:130%;">All I am missing is a house full of cats....<br /></span></center><br /><br />So the other day I was looking through my secret goody bag…. wait. That sounds inappropriate. I am not in any way referring metaphorically, figuratively or suggestively to “my goodies” álà Ciara or “my milkshake” álà Kelis. I am talking about a literal, tangible collection of things that are good… Jeez….. okay so picture in your head a treasure chest like in Pirates of the Caribbean 1, but without the spooky Incan curse.. and without the gold… and without Jack Sparrow……..never mind…. the English language and all possible uses of poetic imagery are escaping me right now…just bare with me here.<br /><br />I don’t like valentine’s day… I don’t enjoy celebrating most holidays considering how far removed most celebrations stray from acknowledging the holidays' true origins, but I am a collector. So, for one reason or another I have a box of valentines. ..Wait… Now that I think about it, I have several boxes of those little valentines that kids usually exchange in the 3rd grade. Yeah, I have like 5 different boxes of those. But I also have really nice hallmark cards. My favorite valentine’s card is about St. Valentine who was martyred. It always makes me smile… not the part about him being martyred, although religiously speaking I am supposed to rejoice at persecution… but I smile because for one whole day I now have a valid excuse to dress entirely in black, glare at everyone who looks remotely happy and cry all day...... .....<br /><br />It just dawned on me that it might not be good that I take pleasure in things like that....moving on…<br /><br />Occasionally I pull out this secret stash and enjoy the beauty of it all. Because someday in the not so distant future I will actually have a valentine to give these cards to and though it looks like I have a compulsive shopping problem, I honestly plan to celebrate valentine’s day every day which is why I bought multiple boxes of them the day after valentine’s day for $1.<br /><br />I digress…… Oh.. so the other day I decided to put all my stamps in with my secret valentine stash. There were sheets of stamps in my desk, my car, by bag, at work etc and so I decided to put them all together. To my amazement and slight embarrassment I realized I had a stamp <em>COLLECTION</em>!!<br /><br />Every now and then I would buy nice, colorful stamps and decide they were too pretty to use and set them aside. This apparently happened multiple times and Voilà a bona fide stamp collection. It was then that I realized why all my “matches” on eharmony were über nerds. I am sending out serious nerd vibes! Unintentionally I might add. Don’t get me wrong, über nerds need love too, I just never thought I had anything in common with them…. please…I know what you are thinking… why am I cruising the internet for a boyfriend and at the same time pledging my coolness… clearly I Am a nerd.<br /><br />You know… all of this wouldn’t be out of the ordinary if I had pursued my original career plan- to become a mail carrier. If I was an employee of the postal service it wouldn’t seem odd at all for me to have extra stamps here and there. No one would make fun of my quarterly USPS Philatelic magazine. I wouldn’t be embarrassed when I told complete strangers about designs for upcoming stamps. And no one would think it was strange when I vented to them about one of my favorite stamps being discontinued. I wouldn’t even mind when coworkers came to me to buy stamps…. If I was a postal carrier it would be my job to do those things….<br /><br />Basically, I am a nerd.<br /><br />You would think that it wouldn’t come as a surprise to me. I guess I am in denial of my own very real and seemingly blatant nerd status.crowder4preshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15425054856636967608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001586758739658128.post-70484247837719256272007-02-28T19:55:00.000-08:002009-04-12T17:47:16.871-07:00Forget Grey'summ.... The Black Donnelly's is about to take first place for my favorite TV show.<br /><br />I always knew <a href="http://abc.go.com/primetime/greysanatomy/index">Grey's Anatomy</a> was missing something and now i know what it was... the Irish mafia!<br /><br />Visit the page on <a href="http://www.nbc.com/Video/rewind/full_episodes/blackdonnellys.shtml">NBC</a> for more info.<br /><br />If you haven't seen it yet, you simply must. The writing for this show is impeccable. Really.<br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/anjRkzHEtyU&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/anjRkzHEtyU&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>crowder4preshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15425054856636967608noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001586758739658128.post-29762171936974278452007-01-31T14:57:00.000-08:002009-04-12T17:48:04.911-07:00St. Valentine, this one's for you<span style="font-size:180%;">His name is Jordan.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I don't know how old he is, considering how we met I hope he's at least 18. (or else it's illegal)..... moving on<br /><br />Here's what I do know:<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff6666;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#ff0000;"><em>INTERESTS: </em><br /></span>road trips, civil rights<br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><em><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></em></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff6666;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">FAVORITE BAND:<br /></span></em>Dashboard Confessional<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff6666;"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><em><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></em></span></span><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff6666;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">FAVORITE MOVIE:<br /></span></em>Say Anything<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff6666;"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><em><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></em></span></span><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff6666;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">QUOTE:<br /></span></em>"Stumbling is not falling" -Malcolm X<br /></span></span><br /><img src="http://i106.photobucket.com/albums/m243/crowder_fan5/petboyfriend.jpg" /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">So far so good.<br /><br />We have these IM conversations and based on his response to various topics that I select we get a reading on the depth of our love.<br /><br />Here are our relationship stats:<br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;">Chemistry:<br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;">10 hearts<br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;">Friendship:<br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;">3 hearts<br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;">Satisfaction:<br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;">6 hearts<br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;">Wandering Eye:<br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#ff0000;">none<br /></span><br />However, every time I kiss him I get a frowny face reply. I guess I am moving too fast. I mean, let's not forget he's not real. This whole thing is amazing. I move too fast for my 18 year old cyber boyfriend!! Then again we have only been dating for two hours..... which by the way is the longest relationship I have been in since 2002.<br /><br />Yes, I am well aware that I have problems. On the bright side I know from the outset that he can’t dump me, but I can dump him and replace him whenever the mood strikes me. And our relationship is scheduled to last for two weeks at which point we mutually part ways.<br /><br />So virtual issues aside I would say from the fact that we get along so well after 2 hours he is either a perfect gentleman or gay. The latter could very well be true, I mean, I thought only teenage girls liked </span><a href="http://www.dashboardconfessional.com/"><span style="font-size:130%;">dashboard</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"> but then again </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chris_Carrabba"><span style="font-size:130%;">Chris Carrabba</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"> is pretty dreamy...hmmm…<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Either way 2007 is suddenly looking up!</span> <span style="font-size:130%;">Maybe just maybe I won’t don my famous all black mourning attire this Feb 14th.<br /><br />I would dedicate this one to my valentine - <em>Take me Out</em> by Franz Ferdinand<br /><br />And because we have a special connection I am pretty sure he would dedicate this one to me... <em>Do Your Feet Hurt</em> by MxPx<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff6666;">P.S.-</span> I cancelled my subscription to Seventeen Magazine when I turned 16 because I thought I was too mature... Apparently I am reverting.<br /></span><br />Get a pet boyfriend of your very own<br /><a href="http://www.seventeen.com/funstuff/games/spc/0,,625891_642587,00.html"><img src="http://i106.photobucket.com/albums/m243/crowder_fan5/petboyfriend1.jpg" /></a>crowder4preshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15425054856636967608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001586758739658128.post-3201985484861051142007-01-03T12:59:00.000-08:002008-12-06T23:37:11.649-08:00a rose by any other name...<a href="http://www.amazon.com/o/ASIN/0307277763/ref=s9_asin_title_1/002-8508494-7698466"><img src="http://i106.photobucket.com/albums/m243/crowder_fan5/perfume.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#99ffff;">The other day I was flipping through channels and came upon the show Ebert and Roeper (which was previously Siskel and Ebert). And for one reason or another I simply was captivated. Honestly, I wanted to change the channel, but I didn't. I think what was most fascinating is that Ebert wasn't even on the show that night….which is a whole other concern….don’t get me started. Anywho, they talked about a bunch of movies and gave their famous "thumbs up" or "thumbs down" votes. One movie review that has stuck with me since then was "Perfume: The Story of a Murderer". This movie is based upon the book <em>Perfume</em> written by Patrick Süskind (originally published in German <em>Das Parfum</em> in 1985) BTW- I was three years old when this book was first published.<br /><br />Jean-Baptiste Grenouille - Main character and protagonist. Metaphorically compared to a tick and spider. Like a tick, he is contained within himself, and only reaches to the outside world to suck the life from other people. Lacking all emotions except hatred, he is alienated from society. He was arrogant, immoral, and wicked. Born July 17, 1738 in Paris. He is extremely gifted in the fleeting realm of scent.<br /><br />I am not going to go into specifics. If you so chose please peruse the internet and educate yourself further on </span><a href="http://www.perfumemovie.com/"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#99ffff;">the Movie</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#99ffff;"> and </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Perfume_%28novel%29"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#99ffff;">the Book</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#99ffff;"> .<br /><br />My main concern is.... WHAT!!! seriously. I am at a loss. Are they for real? Listen, this book was published in the early 80's which means it was written in the 70's which means there was probably all kinds of hallucinogens being partaken of while this book was being written. I am not saying the author is a hippie pot head, I am just saying he was probably around them.<br /><br />Honestly, the movie looks kinda cheesy. Tagline: "He lived to find beauty. He killed to possess it" [read more </span><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0396171/"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#99ffff;">Here</span></a><span style="color:#99ffff;"><span style="font-size:130%;">]... but from what I gather about the book it's a horrifying read. Apparently the author found a way to bring readers into his mind when he... may or may not have just dropped acid..... charming....And now hollywood has decided to make it a movie...<br /><br />We’re not in Kansas any more…when I was growing up we had lots of fun and fanciful songs, books, tv shows etc. (inspired unofficially of course by various narcotics) And none of them involved murder. What is society coming to?! Actually, I don’t think Herr Süskind wrote <em>Das Parfum</em> as a children’s book. At least I hope not. Those Germans are an unpredictable lot though. And, aren't hippies all about peace? Wow. Süskind needs a hug... and Zoloft.<br /></span><span style="font-size:0;"></span></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">What happened to the days of these </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#ff6600;">(Supposedly Drug Induced)</span> childhood favorites: </span><span style="font-size:0;"></div></span><ul><li><span style="font-size:130%;">Alice in Wonderland </span></li><li><span style="font-size:130%;">Puff the Magic Dragon </span></li><li><span style="font-size:130%;">Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood</span> <span style="font-size:85%;">okay, not </span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/”"><span style="font-size:85%;">Mister Rogers</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;">, he wasn’t on drugs, he did seem very calm and happy all the time though. And why was he always changing clothes. To this day it still doesn’t make any sense to me. Why did he change his sweater and shoes every single time he got home? Always just sweater and shoes</span></li><li><span style="font-size:130%;">Bob Ross' </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bob_Ross"><span style="font-size:130%;">The Joy of Painting</span></a> <span style="font-size:85%;">for the record, I don't think Bob Ross was on drugs. But there was something about him that appealed to people who were on drugs. Maybe it was his fluffy hair and the soft, soothing way he talked about painting clouds....</span></li></ul><p><span style="font-size:0;"></span><span style="font-size:130%;color:#99ffff;">Interesting little tidbit for all you </span><a href="http://www.myspace.com/nirvana"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#99ffff;">Nirvana</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#99ffff;"> fans. In case you didn't know, Kurt Cobain used Süskind's <em>Perfume</em> as the basis of his song "Scentless Apprentice" which is on Nirvana's In Utero album. Which only proves further the relationship of this book and drugs.<br /><br /><br />Nonetheless as if not already obvious... </span></p><p><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;">JUST SAY "NO" to drugs<br /></span><br /><br />KK recommends-<br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/MTV-Unplugged-New-York-Nirvana/dp/B000003TB9/sr=1-5/qid=1168296452/ref=sr_1_5/002-8508494-7698466?ie=UTF8&s=music"><img src="http://i106.photobucket.com/albums/m243/crowder_fan5/nirvana-nycoverart.jpg" /></a>Nirvana- Unplugged in NY </p><p>This CD holds a special place in my heart. I don't think I would have gotten through the dark ages (aka: high school) without it.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#99ffff;">And for your listening pleasure I have the perfect song to end with, It's an 80's classic. It's dedicated to Herr Süskind... i guess....actually, If Jean-Baptiste Grenouille had a theme song this would be it...which is just full of irony considering how the story ends and the bands name....<br /><br /><br />Fine Young Cannibals- "She Drives Me Crazy"</span><br /></span><br /><br /><br /><br /></p>crowder4preshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15425054856636967608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001586758739658128.post-47036722543036924652006-12-03T14:45:00.000-08:002007-01-07T16:58:36.897-08:00Kiss the Cook pt. 2 or Why I Should Probably NEVER be allowed in the kitchen<div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Appliances which are not Katrina-Approved:</span><br />(aka-appliances I do not and should not use or be around)<br /></div><br /><strong>1. Ovens</strong><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Why bother?</span> </em><br /><em><br /></em><strong>2. Toaster Ovens</strong> <span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Like actual ovens only smaller</span> </em><br /><em><br /></em><strong>3. Toasters</strong><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">I don't really have an explanation for my dislike of toasters. I do have a childhood trauma relating to a toaster though. It involves a small microwave fire. Now that I think about it, that should naturally make me not like microwaves......But, no, I still like microwaves</span> </em><br /><em></em><br /><strong>4. Trash Compactors</strong><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">My apartment has one, I don't use it, I keep thinking I am going to push the wrong button and the trash will explode everywhere and the stench of old milk will linger in the nooks behind the refrigerator. Have you ever wondered what is in those nooks?</span></em><br /><br /><strong>5. Juicers</strong><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">I am not even going to begin explaining this one. Ever had a salad in a glass?</span> </em><br /><em></em><br /><strong>6. Blenders</strong><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">I can never get the lid on properly and things end up exploding everywhere</span></em><br /><br /><strong>7. Grinders</strong><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>I am always afraid one of my fingers will mysteriously be sucked in and obliterated</em> </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><strong>8. Mixers</strong><br /></span>C<span style="font-size:85%;">ake batter always ends up on the walls, the ceiling, innocent passers-by</span><br /><br /><strong>9. Garbage Disposals</strong><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>I constantly fear that I have dropped silverware down there, but of course I can't stick my hand in because then it will automatically turn on and shred my hand to pieces</em></span><br /><br /><strong>10. Smoke detectors</strong> <em><span style="font-size:85%;">No, i don't smoke. As it turns out my smoke detector and my oven are in cahoots. It went off the other night and there wasn't smoke. Apparently when my oven is on broil the stinking thing thinks there is a fire.... the joys of cooking my toe.<br /></span></em><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Katrina- Approved Appliances:</span><br />(aka- appliances I use frequently)</div><br /><strong>1. Microwaves<br /></strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;">I can work wonders with microwaves<br /></span></em><br /><strong>2. Any Mr. Coffee- Coffee Maker</strong><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">I am not typically a morning person so long ago I made sure I learned how to make coffee </span></em><br /><br /><strong>3. Most dishwashers<br /></strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;">though I have been known to trip over and/or fall into them. In the middle of the night I can walk from my bedroom to the kitchen in pitch blackness and not run into anything, but an open dishwasher in the near proximity to me is an accident waiting to happen. I admit, it's odd that I still like dishwashers, but I do</span></em><br /><br /><strong>4. Refrigerators</strong><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">very user friendly. And yet I am always baffled by the rate at which certain foods grow fur. Don't worry I don't eat the furry food. The most puzzling "food gone bad" experience was the pineapple juice I forgot about that one time. I was amazed that it turned black and yet it didn't smell bad in the least bit</span></em>crowder4preshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15425054856636967608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001586758739658128.post-55726565710871591742006-11-15T09:48:00.000-08:002006-12-24T09:52:36.492-08:00Kiss the Cook...pt.1 or Why My Mother Should Run for President"My oven is broken"<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Any normal person would automatically reply with much sympathy, "What's wrong with it?"<br /><br />However, if you were related to me your first response would most likely be, "Why/How do you know that?"<br /><br />There is one truth about me that my family knows, but most of my friends do not. It is well known by my relatives but rarely discussed. (because of the shame factor)<br /><br />I don't cook.<br /><br />Wait.<br /><br />I know what you are thinking, "She doesn't cook, because she is probably horrible at it". "What female doesn't cook?!!" "That's blasphemy! Julia Child is now turning over in her grave!"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I very well may be a horrible cook, but that is neither here nor there, because the fact of the matter is, I don't cook. I simply don't do it. It's not fun to me. My official duty on Thanksgiving and Christmas is "taste tester" and "drink maker". I am quite handy at both. I blame my mother. She is an amazing cook. Therefore I never had the inclination to take up cooking. Eating is much more fun.<br /><br />Okay so one day I was bored and hungry and decided to give my oven a go when it became abundantly clear that it was in fact broken. At which point I made a vow to never attempt that whole cooking thing again. Who needs casseroles anyway? I mentioned to my mother, the chef, that my oven was broken and of course she wanted to know how it was that I knew that my oven was broken. All of which she found highly amusing, but she pretended to be sympathetic as I described the cookies I baked that came out burned on the bottom and doughy on top. (I was really craving cookies so it wasn't until after I had eaten two that I realized something was screwy with them) Okay so a month went by and my mom mentions that I probably need to have someone come look at my broken oven and fix it. Of course my response is, "Why?" To which she replies, "What if I decide I want to cook something while we are staying with you over Thanksgiving."<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I called to place a work order immediately. It was then that this situation got interesting. I will relay the conversation I had with the nice lady who works in the office of my apartment complex.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me- umm.. Hi, I am a resident and I was wondering if you could send someone to look at my oven. Is that a repair you can handle?</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"><em>(Side note: This is a legitimate question, I'm not sassing her. We went back and forth a few months ago about them hooking up my washer. Get this, if there is water damage in my apartment I could get sued for it, but because of some liability issue they cannot hook up washing machines!)</em><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;color:#33cc00;">Office Lady- yes it is. Of course, we are responsible for the repair of all of the appliances.<br /></span><span>Me- Of course. Okay. Great.<br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;"><em>Silence </em></span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;"><span style="font-family:arial;">OL- Umm… what's wrong with your oven?</span><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me- Oh. Well, the top part doesn't heat up?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#33cc00;">OL- Okay, you mean the stove? The burners on the stove aren't heating up?<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me- No, I mean the oven. Inside the oven, the top part doesn't heat up?<br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;color:#33cc00;">OL- Okay…. the burner, right?<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me- No. I mean inside the oven. You know the part that heats up inside the oven?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#33cc00;">OL- yes<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me- Well, the top part doesn't heat up</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#33cc00;">OL- uhh… explain it to me again. Because I still don't understand.<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me- I baked some cookies and the bottom was burned but the top was still doughy.<br /></span><span style="color:#33cc00;"><span style="font-family:arial;">OL- Okay. So the broiler is not working?</span><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me- No. not the broiler. I was baking.<br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;color:#33cc00;">OL- Okay, because the cookie thing confused me.</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Silence</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#33cc00;">OL- Okay, I am going to go ahead and fill out a work order….</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me- Would you have someone call me before they show up to look at it?<br /></span><span style="color:#33cc00;"><span style="font-family:arial;">OL- Umm.. sure okay.</span><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Two hours later the repair man calls.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me- Hello?</span><br /><span style="color:#6633ff;">RM- Yeah, I am going to come and look at your oven, is now a good time?</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me- Yeah, I actually wanted to try to explain to you what the problem is<br /></span><span style="color:#6633ff;">RM- Okay. It says here on the work order that the burners are not working.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me- No. it's the oven.</span><br /><span style="color:#6633ff;">RM- … the oven?<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me- Yes. Inside the oven, the top part, I don't know what they are called, but the top part that heats up inside the oven doesn't heat up.<br /></span><span style="color:#6633ff;">RM- ummm.. okay, I am going to have to talk to my supervisor….<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me- okay. Listen. Just go check it out. Turn on the oven and you'll see what I am talking about</span><br /><span style="color:#6633ff;">RM- uhhh, okay.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">So when I arrive home that evening there waiting on my kitchen counter is my work order with a note at the bottom from the repair man that reads, "Try it now and let me know if it doesn't work".<br /><br />So, I turn on the oven, open the oven door and watch and wait in anticipation. Nothing happens.<br />So I turn up the temperature.<br />Nothing happens.<br />I get closer.<br />Nothing.<br />I know better than to touch it so I put my hand out and feel warmth coming from the bottom of the oven, but not the top. I am now really annoyed.<br />I reach toward the heat thingy at the top. There is no heat coming from it.<br />I tap it. It feels cold<br />I grab it. It's cold!!<br />I rattle it a little. Still cold.</span><br /><br />Unbelievable!<br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Briefly a line from a movie comes to mind about someone's crazy mother being so fed up that she stuck her head in the oven. I smile at the memory and try to remember what movie it's from and if it is appropriate that I am smiling because I seem to remember this leading to the mother's death. It then dawns on me that I look crazy. Good thing my oven is electric and not gas.</span> <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">(note to self: find out where that whole "stuck head in oven and died" thing came from)<br /></span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>Since this incident I have done extensive research and come to what I believe to be an accurate explanation for the previous note to self. It turns out that Sylvia Plath committed suicide by sticking her head in the oven. Does this concern anyone else? First of all, that is soooo not funny. Second, I am not suicidal. Third and most shocking, I think, is "why would I know that?" I have never read The Bell Jar, nor have I invested time or energy in learning about her life. (Note to self: do not fall asleep while watching Jeopardy) Wait….No….. I know…. Pheobe Buffay's mother committed suicide that way. And because Phoebe Buffay is a character on Friends …and not a real person ...it's funny.<br /></strong></span></em><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">To prove that I am not crazy I decide to take the nice office lady's advice and turn the temperature knob to broil. I am now sitting on the floor directly in front of my oven staring into its cavernous blackness like it is suddenly going to reveal the secrets of the universe. Then it happens. The heat thingys at the bottom that were only a few minutes ago glowing red are now slowly turning black. They are cooling off!! WHAT!! I am not crazy. I am not crazy. So I keep sitting and staring. I am staring so hard I think I am imagining that the heat thingys at the top are turning red. I close my eyes. I open them. Oh my gosh!! They work!!! They're not broken</span>!<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">But why don't they heat up when I am baking?<br /><br />So I did what any accomplished adult does when faced with a situation that is baffling and too embarrassing to involve friends- I called my mom.<br /></span><br />(For your reading pleasure, please take note of the unspoken, inner thoughts of both parties which appear in italics in the parenthesis)<br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me: MOM!</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">The Chef: yes<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me: are you asleep? <em>(please don't be asleep)</em><br /></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">TC: No</span> <em>(not any more, thanks a lot)<br /></em><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me: okay</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me: you know how I said my oven was broken? Well, I don't think it's broken, I think<br />I'm retarded!</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">TC: What?!!!</span> <em>(that's so sad…. no wonder she's still single…. My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me…. Will I ever have more grandchildren?.... This girl is making me lose hope… I am not getting any younger…. I wonder if we could adopt a married girl in her twenties to be our daughter…. Is there a lot of paper work involved in something like that… I've Got it!!! I'll adopt Katie H. She can be my new daughter and that would make Reese my grandchild!!....Excellent idea! How should I brake it to Katrina?... WAIT. I can't believe she woke me up for this?!)</em><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me: Mom, bare with me. When you turn your oven on does it heat up on the top and the bottom?<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">TC: What? The burners? You mean the burners on the stove part?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me: No, inside the oven, mom. <em>(you have got to be kidding me)</em><br /></span><br />Silence.<br /><em>(My mom is confused and yet trying to be supportive while not laughing at my stupidity)<br /></em><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me: just tell me</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">TC- Well, I think so.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me- well, mine doesn't. Only the bottom part heats up<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">TC- Did you have it on broil or bake?</span> <em>(…Katrina's ignorance is somewhat endearing….. maybe we'll keep her)<br /></em><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me- Remember I told you about that one time I baked cookies and they came out burned on the bottom and doughy on top</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">TC- Oh. You probably had them on the wrong rack. So what did you do with all of those cookies?</span> <em>(she probably ate them all. This girl and her dad will eat almost anything)<br /></em><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me- What!? <em>(Seriously?!)</em> No, mom, it happened a long time ago. I was just trying to explain what's wrong.<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">TC- So, you have oven mitts and everything?!</span> <em>(She is so making this story up)<br /></em><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me- Yes, mom I have oven mitts.<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">TC- Well you're oven should have a bake knob and a broil knob.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me- WHAT!! Mine has one knob that has all the temperatures and then broil.<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">TC- well, you just have an old stove<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me- oh.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">My oven is not broken. Just vintage. It has officially been named Maurice. Maurice is old, temperamental and totally a native of France. (nothing against the French, but why do they hate absolutely everyone except other Frenchies?)<br /><br />Either way this just proves further that unless my building is on fire I should avoid interacting with the people that work in the office at my apartment complex. And in the future when looking at apartments I will ask how new the appliances are even though I will probably never personally be using them.</span>crowder4preshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15425054856636967608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001586758739658128.post-89522296829830488692006-10-29T11:25:00.000-08:002007-04-29T17:53:10.928-07:00Survey Says...<div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">If You Don't Know, Now You Know- THE SURVEY</span></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">- Food-</div><ul><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Chocolate or Vanilla: <span style="color:#3333ff;">both</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Pepsi or Coke: <span style="color:#3333ff;">Dr. Pepper</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Cappuccino or Coffee: <span style="color:#3333ff;">Coffee w/ Toffee Nut Syrup (but only if you're buying)</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Beef or Chicken: <span style="color:#3333ff;">Beef</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Pork or Seafood: <span style="color:#3333ff;">Seafood</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Best Meal Ever: <span style="color:#3333ff;">everything my mom cooks</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Fav. type of Food: <span style="color:#3333ff;">any. Mexican, Italian, Thai, Indian, Chinese</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Fav. meal- Breakfast, lunch or dinner: <span style="color:#3333ff;">Peanut Butter Pancakes for dinner</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Your Perfect Pizza: <span style="color:#3333ff;">Pepperoni w/ jalapeños</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Fav. candy: <span style="color:#3333ff;">Snickers, Jolly Rancher Jelly Beans</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Fav. Dessert: <span style="color:#3333ff;">Molten Chocolate Cake at Chili's, or anything with ice cream</span></span></li></ul><p align="center">-Family-</p><ul><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Siblings:<span style="color:#000099;"> </span><span style="color:#3333ff;">1 older sister</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Do you get along? <span style="color:#3333ff;">yes</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Do you get along with your parents? <span style="color:#3333ff;">yes</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Any childhood traumas? <span style="color:#3333ff;">my sister telling me i was adopted. this was traumatic b/c i'm not</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Fondest childhood memory: <span style="color:#3333ff;">my dad sleeping on the floor next to my bed when i would wake up scared from a bad dream</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">As a child what did you want to be when you grew up? <span style="color:#3333ff;">a mailman</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Why?<span style="color:#000099;"> </span><span style="color:#3333ff;">i like mail. also, it might have had something to do with my sister telling me the mailman was my real dad</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Current Occupation: <span style="color:#3333ff;">development (aka: public relations/fund raising) for a nonprofit</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Dream Occupation: <span style="color:#3333ff;">talk show host (Oprah)</span></span></li></ul><p align="center">-Relationships-</p><ul><li><span style="font-size:85%;">In the past month have you been on a date? <span style="color:#3333ff;">no. well... i don't think so.</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Ideal first date: <span style="color:#3333ff;">one that's not awkward or boring</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Have you ever been in love? <span style="color:#3333ff;">no... well... maybe</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Have you ever had a crush? <span style="color:#3333ff;">yes!</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Do you currently have a crush?<span style="color:#3333ff;"> yes</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Who is it? <span style="color:#3333ff;">no comment</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Physical feature you notice first on the opposite sex: <span style="color:#3333ff;">eyes</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Second: <span style="color:#3333ff;">smile</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">You could never date a guy who_______: <span style="color:#000099;"><span style="color:#3333ff;">takes longer to get ready in the mornings than i do, or a guy who has really soft hands... both qualities weird me out equally.</span> </span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Are you a romantic? <span style="color:#3333ff;">probably</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Are you a girly-girl or a tomboy? <span style="color:#3333ff;">somewhere in the middle, i hope</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Are you high mantenance? <span style="color:#3333ff;">probably not</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Do you want to get married someday? <span style="color:#3333ff;">yes</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Ideal marriage proposal: <span style="color:#3333ff;">any</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Have you already planned the ceremony? <span style="color:#3333ff;">no! the idea of even getting married didn't appeal to me until a few years ago</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Ideal Wedding: <span style="color:#3333ff;">Vegas</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Do you want to have kids someday? <span style="color:#3333ff;">yes</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">If so, how many?<span style="color:#3333ff;"> i don't know, bus loads</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Person you would date if they were available: <span style="color:#3333ff;">Prince William</span></span></li></ul><p align="center">-Random Questions-</p><ul><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Name:<span style="color:#000099;"> </span><span style="color:#3333ff;">Katrina</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Nicknames: <span style="color:#3333ff;">tom, tommy, tom-tom, thompsarino, tompy, tomkat, tomcacti, kat, kat-ry-na, kdawg, kk, kitty, katrinarina, katerinadarling, trina, tree, tree-tree</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Birthdate and Place: <span style="color:#3333ff;">Cinco de Mayo (that's may 5th, for you gringos) in Yellow, Texas</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Current Location: <span style="color:#3333ff;">Dallas-ish</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Next Location: <span style="color:#3333ff;">who knows...maybe Nashville or somewhere in the UK</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Ideal Location: <span style="color:#3333ff;">anywhere i haven't lived before</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Hair Color: <span style="color:#3333ff;">right now it's my natural hair color and a fro</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Eye Color: <span style="color:#3333ff;">brown</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Right or Left Handed: <span style="color:#3333ff;">righty</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Height:<span style="color:#3333ff;"> 5'7"</span> </span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Your best physical feature: <span style="color:#3333ff;">i don't really know... my ears</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">The physical feature you would like to change:<span style="color:#3333ff;"> as i have gotten older i have started to be okay with my flaws so i wouldn't change anything</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Fav. Flower: <span style="color:#3333ff;">sunflowers, magnolias, lilies, tulips, wild flowers </span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Least Enjoyable Flower: <span style="color:#3333ff;">carnations, roses (red and white)</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Fav. Color: <span style="color:#3333ff;">Orange, Cobalt Blue, Yellow, Kelly Green</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Least Enjoylable Color: <span style="color:#3333ff;">Pastels</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Fav. Day of the Week: <span style="color:#3333ff;">Wednesday, Friday</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Least Enjoyable Day of the Week: <span style="color:#3333ff;">Monday</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Dogs or Cats: <span style="color:#3333ff;">Dogs</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Fears/Phobias: <span style="color:#3333ff;">Gingivitis</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Weaknesses:<span style="color:#000099;"> </span><span style="color:#3333ff;">fruit snacks</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">In the past month have you gone to a mall? <span style="color:#3333ff;">yes. it was a painful experience</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Fav. Store: <span style="color:#3333ff;">goodwill, my cousins' closets</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Languages you know: <span style="color:#3333ff;">English, 4 years of French but i don't remember much, sometimes i dream in Spanish does that count?</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Do you smoke/drink: <span style="color:#3333ff;">no/sometimes</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">In the past month have you been drunk? <span style="color:#3333ff;">no</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">In the past month have you done drugs? <span style="color:#3333ff;">no</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Do you have any tattoos? <span style="color:#3333ff;">not yet</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Piercings below the shoulders? <span style="color:#3333ff;">not anymore</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Super power you most want: <span style="color:#3333ff;">flight</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">If your house was on fire and you could only save one thing, what would you save? <span style="color:#3333ff;">my t-shirt collection. i still have a shirt from 1987</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Best compliment you've received:<span style="color:#000099;"> </span><span style="color:#3333ff;">"You're a cool square chick"- Marlee J.</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Harshest Insult: <span style="color:#3333ff;">"You remind me of Lilith from the show Fraiser"- <a href="http://www.myspace.com/blakewilsonstandup">Blake W</a>.</span> </span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Goal for 2007: <span style="color:#3333ff;">be a better driver. i hop curbs like no body's business</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">How do you want to die:<span style="color:#3333ff;"> i would prefer not to</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Epitaph: <span style="color:#3333ff;">none. see above</span></span></div></li><li><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Regrets? <span style="color:#3333ff;">none. i have done some spectacularly stupid things, but i have learned some good lessons.</span></span></div></li></ul><p><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></p>crowder4preshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15425054856636967608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001586758739658128.post-7765379136969608212006-06-15T16:33:00.000-07:002006-12-15T14:37:28.361-08:00this one is for you Lower Morgan '05-'06<br /><br />Dear Readers-<br /><br />I need you to do me a favor. Pretend this is something funny.... Are you laughing? Okay, sassy pants, at least smile.... Thanks. my self-esteem just went up. Kavitha wanted me to update my blog with another funny, yet slightly tragic story. Unfortunately nothing like that has happened lately. Or maybe I am just so used to the monotony of my funny, yet slightly tragic life that I am just not paying enough attention. Kavitha, when something funny happens, trust me, you'll find it here.<br /><br />BTW- that reminds me. Peace out to all my Lower Morgan girlies. It was a fun/dramatic/stressful/memorable year, but I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. *HUG*<br />Oh and BTW. Remember that hall meeting when I complained about the food thief and i said she had also stolen my onion vinaigrette dressing. <em>(no one will probably remember that b/c no one was really paying attention) </em>For what it's worth, I wanted to take that back. A few days ago I found my dressing. It was in the security break room refrigerator. Now before you go assuming that one of our upstanding security guards swiped it. Let me just tell you, that I put it there...... And then.. promptly forgot about it. =)crowder4preshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15425054856636967608noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001586758739658128.post-69649649632291570182006-03-15T11:21:00.000-08:002006-12-15T14:25:47.455-08:00BeholdThough it took a day short of eternity, I have finally provided the much anticipated photographic proof that I kissed someone on New Year's Eve. As you can see, it is definitely not a mongoose, as previously thought. What is most appealing, aside from the petrified/terrified look on my new friend's face, is the art work in the background. Its obvious I was in the home of a true hunting enthusiast.<br /><p align="center"><a href="http://i106.photobucket.com/albums/m243/crowder_fan5/me/meandmoose.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 231px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 220px" height="204" alt="" src="http://i106.photobucket.com/albums/m243/crowder_fan5/me/meandmoose.jpg" border="0" /></a></p>crowder4preshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15425054856636967608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001586758739658128.post-30274672112215883572006-02-01T14:30:00.000-08:002008-12-06T23:35:21.825-08:00Let's focus on ME for a moment...<span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;">I have always liked music. When I a baby my dad would sing me to sleep. I blame him. He is also to blame for all the music that is constantly and I mean constantly playing in my head. I'm not going to lie, it's kinda cool. Like my life is some hip movie with a killer thematic soundtrack.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Allow me to introduce myself... through the lyrics of some really catchy songs.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I wear my sunglasses at night</span> </span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><em><span style="font-family:arial;">... No, not really…well there was that one time…<br /></span></em><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I want to know what love is, I want you to show me</span> <em>…. My sentiments exactly</em><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I shot the sheriff, but I did not shoot the deputy.</span> <em>Can't say that I recall shooting anyone. Ever.</em> </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I am the queen of the night.</span> </span><span style="font-family:arial;"><em>Hmm... jury is still out on that one. Sounds a little like the rantings of a woman who works on the corner. I will agree with one statement Whitney made "Crack is Whack".</em> </span></span><span style="color:#999999;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I'm like a bird, I only fly away</span>. <em>What!! I don't even know what that means. Did I mention that crack is whack?</em><br /></span><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I rode my bicycle past your window last night</span>. <em>No, not really. Not ever.</em> Though I have been called a stalker.... moving right along...<br /></span><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I like to move it move it</span>. <em>yeah, pretty much. </em><br /></span><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I am the walrus. koo koo ka choo</span> the beatles. 'nuf said.<br /></span><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I want to be with you.</span> <em>Yeah. Center Stage had some of the worst acting in history but that song gets me every time. </em><br /></span><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I just died in your arms tonight.</span> <em>I have no idea what that means. If he died tonight how did he write a song about it. </em><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I'm too sexy for your party.</span> </span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><em><span style="font-family:arial;">I love the fact that a guy who called himself RIGHT SAID FRED said he was too sexy for a party that he probably wasn't invited to anyway.<br /></span></em><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I want to hold your hand.</span> <em>Well sure, as long as it's clean. I don't know you. </em><br /></span><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I want to be sedated.</span> <em>Okay, No, but I think my friend Ms. Houston would appreciate that statement. </em><br /></span><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I could have danced all night.</span> <em>Hail yes.</em><br /></span><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I'm a redneck woman.</span> <em>Yeah…ummm…not so much.</em><br /></span><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I've got you under my skin</span>. <em>That's right. I'm talking to you.</em><br /></span><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I'm bad. I'm bad. You know it</span>. <em>Actually, MJ is just flippin' crazy. </em><br /></span><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I can't give you anything but love</span> <em>You betcha.</em><br /></span><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I'll stop the world and melt with you</span> <em>Ummm….. sure. I'll get right on that.</em><br /></span><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Any other songs?<br />come on.. hit me with your best shot... Wow. I'm like a machine. I'm a maniac!!...okay seriously. I must be stopped</span>.</span>crowder4preshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15425054856636967608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001586758739658128.post-88503993148248434112006-01-02T11:17:00.000-08:002006-12-15T13:05:12.050-08:00Lip Action on New Year’s Eve… Official Picture Coming Soon...You know how at midnight on New Year's Eve you are supposed to kiss someone? Well, I dislike that rule. Whats the point anyway? I had a guy to kiss on New Year's Eve before and it didnt make my year any better. As a matter of fact we ended up breaking up five months later. So as 2005 was ending and 2006 was beginning I honestly had no intention of kissing anyone and yet, I did. But before I get to that let me unfold the events that led up to the party to end all parties. Before we arrived at the party I met up with some lovely folks for dinner in the West End. After dinner we were walking around and sightseeing when we were drawn to an outdoor dining area by the alluring vocal stylings of Down For Life singing shake that laffy taffy. We spent a few minutes trying to decide what a laffy taffy was and in what capacity were we expected to shake it. In the end the final decision was that a laffy taffy is that area of loose skin on the under side of your arm that jiggles when you wave. I am not particularly fond of that part of my arm and so the idea of drawing attention to it was not very appealing but it was New Year's Eve I was feeling crazy so I joined in and unabashedly shook my laffy taffy and then we all departed to our next destination.<br /><br /><em>Let me take this moment to say that though I am African-American I don't really listen to rap and that is why I was just as confused as my Caucasian comrades as to the true meaning of laffy taffy... <span style="color:#ff0000;">Let me also say that since this incident I have been informed of the true meaning of "laffy taffy". And quite frankly, I wish I didn't know the truth. If you don't know just pay attention to the lyrics of the song and use your imagination and you too can be fortunate enough to know what a laffy taffy is.</span> </em><br /><br />Okay so we are at the party and there was me and there was him. I don't know his name, well call him Charlie. Charlie is the strong, silent type. And Im willing to bet he could care less about the whole Kiss Someone on New Year's Eve Rule so we were a match made in heaven. Wait, it gets better. So, I mentioned to the man of the house that I made out with his friend and he seemed a little troubled by that. His response was, wow, I haven't even been introduced to you yet and you come up to me and start talking about making out....<br /><br />Before I continue let me just say that I know how this looks and I know what you are thinking. So lets go ahead and clear one thing up. I had not been drinking. I dont make it a habit to drink. Apparently I should because on more than one occasion, usually during the week and at 2 in the afternoon or earlier, I have been asked if I was drunk. Let me repeat that at 2 in the afternoon or earlier. Who in the world is drunk at 2 in the afternoon during the week?<br /><br />I get it. I get it. If you drive like a drunk person (see blog entitled that's messed up), talk like a drunk person, and embarrass yourself like a drunk person, you must be a drunk person. Wait....Not just a drunk person. If it's 2 in the afternoon and you're drunk, you must be a flippin' alcoholic. So I am saying all of this to say that I am not currently nor have I ever been an alcoholic. I may seem drunk most of the time, but trust me, I'm not. I guess something is off with my inner ear or something so my equilibrium is all out of whack.<br /><br />Now, back to my story. So I introduce myself and then we pull out the camera and show him the photo. Yep. I have documentation that I got some lip action. And after that the details are fuzzy. He proceeds to tell me about the enormous, intimidating, mounted, animal head that I have just familiarized myself with and for some reason I think he says its a blue mongoose and so I throw my fists in the air in triumph. I think I might have even yelled to innocent bystanders something like, Yea, a blue mongoose!! I made out with a blue mongoose tonight come and see the picture<br /><br />Okay so the next day at work I go online and look for pictures of a blue mongoose. Funny how there is no such thing as a blue mongoose.<br /><br />And this is what an actual mongoose looks like:<br /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i106.photobucket.com/albums/m243/crowder_fan5/mongoose_banded.jpg" border="0" /><br />Which is disturbing because I know for a fact that I didnt kiss anything that looked like that.<br /><br />So then it dawns on me that he obviously didn't say mongoose. He probably said moose. To be exact he probably said bull moose. Which is sad because all night I had been congratulating myself on having had the auspicious opportunity to make out with a mongoose. I even had plans of calling the host the next day and inquiring about the mongooses well being after our little rendezvous.<br /><br />Yeah, I won't be calling. And it wont surprise me if I am not invited to anymore church parties.<br /><br />But its all good because I don't even go to that church.<br /><br />Happy New Year and God help us all!crowder4preshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15425054856636967608noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001586758739658128.post-64347968462987531962005-12-10T08:59:00.000-08:002006-12-15T09:47:45.776-08:00That's Messed UpDoes your car have a name? It is very important to chose a name that describes the personality and vibe of the car. my current car does not have a name. Honestly, I am not that fond of it and the idea of naming it implies otherwise. My favorite car was named Susie. She was amazing. Old, classy and fun. I want to be like her when I am older.... and if I become a car when I grow up the chances of that becoming a relality are greater. Here is a story in her honor.<br /><br />So I have this car, and my car's name is drunk susie. we just call her susie for short. she got the drunk part because susie doesn't know that she is a mommy car, she thinks she is a big monster truck and she can do whatever she wants. I won't go into details, but there have been incidents of driving on curbs, mid-day swerving down the road, occasional off-roading and mudding. not to mention all of the suicidal birds that dive in front of my car just asking to be put out of their misery. now before you begin to wonder if the driver of the car is the one with the drinking habit and not the actual car, I can honestly say it's Susie.<br /><br />Let me give you a case and point to further illustrate the extent of Susie's lunacy. a few weeks ago I had the amazing opportunity to park Susie in the garage. I assumed Susie would be incredibly thrilled to spend a few days not getting crapped on by birds. But as it turns out, she could've cared less. Because Susie is kind of an older broad she sometimes leaks here and there. At first I thought she was just marking her territory, but the occasional leak was followed by a strange noise from under the hood….. In the garage strategically placed beneath the spot where most cars drip is a small plastic, rectangular container filled with gravel. Susie spent three lovely nights in the garage and I assumed everything was kosher, but it wasn't until later that I discovered what had really been going on. Did Susie leak gracefully into the designated leak catcher? you might ask. Heck no. Susie leaked in an almost perfect circle around it. I'm not kidding. Come over to my house I'll show you. That crazy car managed to leak everywhere but the specified leaking zone and I'm convinced she did it on purpose.<br /><br />Recently, I was given some sad news about Susie. Because I live in East Siberia and the weather is sometimes evil it hailed a few weeks ago and though Susie took it bravely she got a few dents. As it turns out, my insurance company declared that Susie is totaled. Totaled! I haven't had the heart to break it to her. She's going to be put out to pasture.<br />I'm really going to miss all of the times we ticked off all of the other drivers around us with our many close calls. (Oh- FYI, reading, eating, putting on make up, etc. while driving is not a good idea. It makes the drivers around you very nervous)<br /><br />I'll miss how when the little kids on my street where playing outside they would run to their front porch when they saw us coming. You know, just in case Susie felt like hopping the curb.<br /><br />Good times. I love that crazy, drunken car.crowder4preshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15425054856636967608noreply@blogger.com0