10. My Nikon D60,
9. My Lenovo T400 Laptop,
8. My Trader Joe's bag filled with as many pictures/frames as it could hold,
7. My purse,
6. My Bible (but right now, it's sadly still packed in a box inside of our garage),
5. My Fresh 'N Easy bag filled with as many articles of clean clothing as I could stuff inside,
4. My Tiffany & Co pouch that carries the ring I gave myself on my 21st birthday as well as the silver bracelet and two rings that Mike has given me in our 4 years together,
3. My make-up tote (don't laugh, that crap is expensive & has been accumulated over many years of searching),
2. Books from anywhere around the house,
1. and I'm sure I'd grab something stupid like the people you see standing outside of their engulfed houses on the news. You know the kind, right? They're standing there in an old prom dress holding their cat, a box of photos, and a bottle of expensive vodka. That's right. I'd probably grab the very large bottle of Grey Goose or Kettle One that we have downstairs. I'm just stupid enough to do that.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Friday, July 30, 2010
Day 25: The nicest thing anyone has ever done for me
About 2 or 3 years ago, I wasn't feeling up to planning a birthday celebration. I thought about it and I just didn't want to do anything and I didn't want to work super hard to put anything together.
Well what are best friends for?
Two of my dearest friends stepped in and planned an awesome night out for me! Cristina and Denise are absolutely amazing people, and to call them my friends is one of my life's greatest blessings.
I was getting all dressed up and ready when my doorbell rang, standing in my doorway was Princess Rose and she was looking so cute!
From there people started pouring in from all different areas of my life!
Mike and Roger showed up.
Then Shannon and my party hostess, Cristina.
Finally, Miss Amanda arrived!
Finally we headed outside and saw a completely decorated SUV waiting for us! That's right folks! Stars and glass chalk covered the outside of a rather large vehicle and it was all to celebrate my birthday!!!
Then we headed over to Universal Citywalk to have dinner at Saddleranch. Well when we arrived I realized that there were even more people joining us!
My Zeta big sis, Lisa, was there as well as my other Zeta sisters, Marcy and one of my little sis's, Christen.
It was at this time that Amanda and I discovered that at Saddleranch you can order singles, doubles, and triples of just about any drink. The night gets a little fuzzy but I can guarantee you that it's one of my favorite memories of all times!
So thank you to everyone that came, but Cristina and Denise defintely win this round of "nicest things people have done for me!"
Well what are best friends for?
Two of my dearest friends stepped in and planned an awesome night out for me! Cristina and Denise are absolutely amazing people, and to call them my friends is one of my life's greatest blessings.
I was getting all dressed up and ready when my doorbell rang, standing in my doorway was Princess Rose and she was looking so cute!
From there people started pouring in from all different areas of my life!
Mike and Roger showed up.
Then Shannon and my party hostess, Cristina.
Finally, Miss Amanda arrived!
Finally we headed outside and saw a completely decorated SUV waiting for us! That's right folks! Stars and glass chalk covered the outside of a rather large vehicle and it was all to celebrate my birthday!!!
Then we headed over to Universal Citywalk to have dinner at Saddleranch. Well when we arrived I realized that there were even more people joining us!
My Zeta big sis, Lisa, was there as well as my other Zeta sisters, Marcy and one of my little sis's, Christen.
It was at this time that Amanda and I discovered that at Saddleranch you can order singles, doubles, and triples of just about any drink. The night gets a little fuzzy but I can guarantee you that it's one of my favorite memories of all times!
So thank you to everyone that came, but Cristina and Denise defintely win this round of "nicest things people have done for me!"
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Day 24: 4-5 relationships have had the greatest impact on my life
1. My Maternal Grandfather
Donald Kipp. Wife, Lou. Daughters, Kandi and Terri. Granddaughters, Kipp and Cierra.
That's right. I was named after my Grandfather. Not many women can say that, but at least my parents had the sense to call me Kipp and not Donald! You see, my grandfather was surrounded by women. He was raised by a single mother. He has a sister named Dorothy. He then had two daughters and two granddaughters. Even the family dogs were girls. He once said (in the heat of the moment) "I'M GOING TO DROWNED IN A SEA OF KOTEX AND PANTHOSE!!!"
To be honest, he wouldn't have had it any other way.
Everytime I saw my Grampa, I got a hug and a couple of dollars. He used to take me to his golf course and show me off to his golfing friends. Then we'd swing by McDonald's to see his retiree breakfast club and I'd get one of those free mini ice cream cones that they used to give away to children. From there we would take stale bread and go feed ducks and other farm animals in Ontario and Chino. Of course, that was when they still had farms and you could buy your eggs fresh from the farmer.
As I got older, his devotion never changed. He supported me when I thought no one else did. He didn't speak very much, but as a teenager I really appreciated that. He was hopelessly devoted to his wife, and as a subdivision of that he was devoted to his daughters as well. He helped me mentally frame what I hoped that I would one day find in a huspand.
2-3. Radar and Caitlyn
Male Welsh Corgi and Female Welsh Corgi
I know what you're thinking. Dogs having impacts on people's lives? Well these 2 did.
I am an only child, and there weren't many children around me to play with. In the summer, I would head into my back yard and I could play for eight or ten hours by myself. I would only stop to eat a quesadilla or some mac 'n cheese 'n peas. (That's why they call me a mouse.)
My only playmates were Radar and Caitlyn. They were the best friends that a little girl could ask for. I could pet them, I could play with them, or I could ride my bike around in the yard and they would leave me alone. I would play in my sand box and they'd come sit with me and lick me. Sometimes I'd take the kumquats off of my mother's tree and I'd eat the outside off and feed them the sour insides. I'd help my dad give them baths in a large cast iron bath tub we had, and they'd always love me afterwards.
4. I think this easily goes to my parents: Larry and Kandi
I'm an only child and if you've ever seen the movie "The Holiday" and remember how Cameron Diaz's character is talking about how she grew up, then you know my background: the three musketeers.
I'm a nearly 50:50 mix of my parents. I've got my mom's ability to talk and my dad's love for science. They both enjoy learning and so I guess I picked that up too. I can cook like my mom but I eat chocolate chip cookies as fast as my dad.
The downside of everything I just told you is that when people say that they don't want to end up like their parents, I already have. I'm trying to follow financial advice from my dad more and more everyday, and when it comes to my mother's passion for travel and her free spirit, well, I've been doing that for years already. It's too late not to be like either of my parents, because every day I wake up more and more like them.
And it isn't a bad thing at all.
 |
| Here I am as Grampa watches me get stuck in a plastic folding chair. He somehow always knew I'd be a smart cookie, although I'm not really sure how. |
That's right. I was named after my Grandfather. Not many women can say that, but at least my parents had the sense to call me Kipp and not Donald! You see, my grandfather was surrounded by women. He was raised by a single mother. He has a sister named Dorothy. He then had two daughters and two granddaughters. Even the family dogs were girls. He once said (in the heat of the moment) "I'M GOING TO DROWNED IN A SEA OF KOTEX AND PANTHOSE!!!"
To be honest, he wouldn't have had it any other way.
Everytime I saw my Grampa, I got a hug and a couple of dollars. He used to take me to his golf course and show me off to his golfing friends. Then we'd swing by McDonald's to see his retiree breakfast club and I'd get one of those free mini ice cream cones that they used to give away to children. From there we would take stale bread and go feed ducks and other farm animals in Ontario and Chino. Of course, that was when they still had farms and you could buy your eggs fresh from the farmer.
As I got older, his devotion never changed. He supported me when I thought no one else did. He didn't speak very much, but as a teenager I really appreciated that. He was hopelessly devoted to his wife, and as a subdivision of that he was devoted to his daughters as well. He helped me mentally frame what I hoped that I would one day find in a huspand.
2-3. Radar and Caitlyn
Male Welsh Corgi and Female Welsh Corgi
I know what you're thinking. Dogs having impacts on people's lives? Well these 2 did.
I am an only child, and there weren't many children around me to play with. In the summer, I would head into my back yard and I could play for eight or ten hours by myself. I would only stop to eat a quesadilla or some mac 'n cheese 'n peas. (That's why they call me a mouse.)
My only playmates were Radar and Caitlyn. They were the best friends that a little girl could ask for. I could pet them, I could play with them, or I could ride my bike around in the yard and they would leave me alone. I would play in my sand box and they'd come sit with me and lick me. Sometimes I'd take the kumquats off of my mother's tree and I'd eat the outside off and feed them the sour insides. I'd help my dad give them baths in a large cast iron bath tub we had, and they'd always love me afterwards.
4. I think this easily goes to my parents: Larry and Kandi
 |
| My parents, 30 years after they wed at the Queen Mary Royal Wedding Chapel. They'll celebrate 33 years in September, 2010. |
I'm an only child and if you've ever seen the movie "The Holiday" and remember how Cameron Diaz's character is talking about how she grew up, then you know my background: the three musketeers.
I'm a nearly 50:50 mix of my parents. I've got my mom's ability to talk and my dad's love for science. They both enjoy learning and so I guess I picked that up too. I can cook like my mom but I eat chocolate chip cookies as fast as my dad.
The downside of everything I just told you is that when people say that they don't want to end up like their parents, I already have. I'm trying to follow financial advice from my dad more and more everyday, and when it comes to my mother's passion for travel and her free spirit, well, I've been doing that for years already. It's too late not to be like either of my parents, because every day I wake up more and more like them.
And it isn't a bad thing at all.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Day 23: In the next year I'm going to...
Okay, so I suck at this. I never make plans. I go where life takes me. If I want something, I usually just work really, really hard until I get it and then I pick something else to go after.
But for this, I'm going to draw from Mrs. Sabater. You see, on Sunday Mike and I went down to Spring Valley to see one of his oldest friends, Jon. Jon and his wife, Trisha, have a son and on Sunday we celebrated his 1st birthday. You can read about the food here.
During the birthday party, Jon's mom came up to visit with me and we talked about how she was very knowledgeable about astrology. When Jon and Mike were younger, she even predicted that Mike should wait until he was at least 20 years old to begin any serious relationships or have a girlfriend. She told him that he should wait because the woman he meets at that time will be a very long relationship. Well, Mike and I met at 21 years old. She's good...
Well then she tells me that when Jon and his wife were dating, she warned them that something was passing through Trisha's sign that would make it very easy for her to get pregnant. I don't have to explain in depth what happened next, but Lucius came about 9 months later!
Well then she asked my birthday and the year I was born. She told me that marriage would be probably occurr in the next 2 years and that I'm in a period of change that is to last approximately 7 years. This would include housing changes, children, marriage, and job advancements or promotions. Well sign me up!
I told her that we were trying very hard not to have children, but that Mike and I had just purchased our first home and adopted a dog together. She said all that I had left was a job promotion!
Let's just say, I hope she's right! I'll keep you all posted...
But for this, I'm going to draw from Mrs. Sabater. You see, on Sunday Mike and I went down to Spring Valley to see one of his oldest friends, Jon. Jon and his wife, Trisha, have a son and on Sunday we celebrated his 1st birthday. You can read about the food here.
During the birthday party, Jon's mom came up to visit with me and we talked about how she was very knowledgeable about astrology. When Jon and Mike were younger, she even predicted that Mike should wait until he was at least 20 years old to begin any serious relationships or have a girlfriend. She told him that he should wait because the woman he meets at that time will be a very long relationship. Well, Mike and I met at 21 years old. She's good...
Well then she tells me that when Jon and his wife were dating, she warned them that something was passing through Trisha's sign that would make it very easy for her to get pregnant. I don't have to explain in depth what happened next, but Lucius came about 9 months later!
Well then she asked my birthday and the year I was born. She told me that marriage would be probably occurr in the next 2 years and that I'm in a period of change that is to last approximately 7 years. This would include housing changes, children, marriage, and job advancements or promotions. Well sign me up!
I told her that we were trying very hard not to have children, but that Mike and I had just purchased our first home and adopted a dog together. She said all that I had left was a job promotion!
Let's just say, I hope she's right! I'll keep you all posted...
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Day 22: Name life changing books I've read...
Too easy, Buster.
(Quick! Name that movie!)
Just kidding! But in all honesty, this is a really easy question for me. The Bible is the only book that changed my life.
I've read quite a few books in my lifetime, but none of those books brought my life into focus or helped me choose a path in life. They enrich my life, but when all is said and done the Bible is the only written word that has the power to help me be a better person.
So with that, I'm going to leave you with my favorite passage.
(Quick! Name that movie!)
Just kidding! But in all honesty, this is a really easy question for me. The Bible is the only book that changed my life.
I've read quite a few books in my lifetime, but none of those books brought my life into focus or helped me choose a path in life. They enrich my life, but when all is said and done the Bible is the only written word that has the power to help me be a better person.
So with that, I'm going to leave you with my favorite passage.
Philippians 2:14-15
"Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe."
Monday, July 26, 2010
Lucius's First Birthday
On Sunday Mike and I went down to Spring Valley to see one of his oldest friends, Jon. Jon and his wife, Trisha, have a son and on Sunday we celebrated his 1st birthday.
It was interesting to say the least. Apparently Jon's family is Phillipeno and I think I heard that Trisha's family is Portuguese-Canadian. Yah, I know. You're confused, right? The food was amazing. I'm not always a crazy food person, but I will try everything once. My parents told me that was the polite thing to do, and you never know if you're going to find something that you like.
Boy were they right! First up, noodles. Noodles like chow mein, except made with those clear and wobbly kind of noodles instead of the thick kind.
Noodles were a success.
Next up, eggroll looking things with shrimp inside. Shrimp wasn't chewy. Eggroll wrapper was crispy.
Another success.
There was carne asada and pollo asada from Mike's dad's shop which is always a hit with people. I had a bit of both (you'd think I'd get enough of it because it's in my freezer, but it's never enough!).
Then I grabbed something new. I honestly didn't know what was in it. It looked like those 1 foot eggrolls you can get at the fair...but it had what looked like crystallized sugar on the outside. Huh?
BINGO!
It was a big plantain (banana-like) eggroll with carmelized sugar on the outside. I was in heaven! Think churro+bananas foster. All I needed was some ice cream.
As if that wasn't enough, Jon had made some ceviche that was pretty good so I munched on that and I topped everything off with an oatmeal raisin cookie.
I ate my way through a one-year old's birthday party.
It was great.
I skipped the cake by the way, but only because I had a banana eggroll and a cookie already. I didn't want to look like a fat cow.
It was interesting to say the least. Apparently Jon's family is Phillipeno and I think I heard that Trisha's family is Portuguese-Canadian. Yah, I know. You're confused, right? The food was amazing. I'm not always a crazy food person, but I will try everything once. My parents told me that was the polite thing to do, and you never know if you're going to find something that you like.
Boy were they right! First up, noodles. Noodles like chow mein, except made with those clear and wobbly kind of noodles instead of the thick kind.
Noodles were a success.
Next up, eggroll looking things with shrimp inside. Shrimp wasn't chewy. Eggroll wrapper was crispy.
Another success.
There was carne asada and pollo asada from Mike's dad's shop which is always a hit with people. I had a bit of both (you'd think I'd get enough of it because it's in my freezer, but it's never enough!).
Then I grabbed something new. I honestly didn't know what was in it. It looked like those 1 foot eggrolls you can get at the fair...but it had what looked like crystallized sugar on the outside. Huh?
BINGO!
It was a big plantain (banana-like) eggroll with carmelized sugar on the outside. I was in heaven! Think churro+bananas foster. All I needed was some ice cream.
As if that wasn't enough, Jon had made some ceviche that was pretty good so I munched on that and I topped everything off with an oatmeal raisin cookie.
I ate my way through a one-year old's birthday party.
It was great.
I skipped the cake by the way, but only because I had a banana eggroll and a cookie already. I didn't want to look like a fat cow.
Day 21: I can't believe that I...
I can't believe that I...bought a house.
I wake up every morning and I stumble through this place and think, "That's my bathroom" or "This is my kitchen."
I know I share it with Mike, I'm not trying to be extremely selfish. The truth is that I do try to say "we" and "our" a lot more, but sometimes I'm amazed at everything I've accumulated (including the junk) and I have to sit back and just say "wow."
I wake up every morning and I stumble through this place and think, "That's my bathroom" or "This is my kitchen."
I know I share it with Mike, I'm not trying to be extremely selfish. The truth is that I do try to say "we" and "our" a lot more, but sometimes I'm amazed at everything I've accumulated (including the junk) and I have to sit back and just say "wow."
Here's our dog, Maddie, sitting on our painted and refinished stairwell.
Crazy, right? When stuff breaks, I still look around for my Dad.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Day 20: Things in life that sustain me emotionally
Well they're not things, they're people. I would hate to be sustained emotionally by material things, because eventually they'll fade away. It's the people and the memories that keep me going, and you can find them below:
My Mom, always a trooper.
I highly doubt she wanted to get her face painted but I probably asked her to.
Circa 1989
My Dad, riding Dumbo for the 99th time.
Once again, I highly doubt sitting in a plastic elephant was his idea of a "good time" but he rode that ride with me as much as I asked him to.
This hunk.
Well, without the wig and the glasses, he's actually a rather handsome fellow.
And patient, and kind, and loving, and...the list goes on and on.
Add a dash of this...
Throw in a whole lot of that!
As a recent addition to my emotional sanity, I've been watching this little man grow. It's pretty spectacular.
Then I add in some time with these beautiful ladies,
And some shopping trips with this teenager, ugh. I hate that word.
(Teenager, not the word shopping.)
And then come home to this face every single night.
My cup runneth over.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Day 19: The first time I...
The first time I...
...went to Cal Poly Pomona for a counseling session before I enrolled in classes I met a gigantic Kimodo dragon.
No, I'm not joking. I was visiting the campus just after I had graduated from high school. I'd been there once before to attend my "early admission" day with my parents, but this time was different. I was on campus to meet with some of the professors (my advisor was on an expedition and wasn't available) to see which of the Biology tracks I should focus on.
It just happened to be the day of a very large reptile show, and it was being housed in Building 3 (the Science building). I had been visiting some professors in Building 8 (just below the Science building) and as I exited to walk up the back side of the hill towards the parking lot, I saw students literally jumping off of the sidewalk in front of me.
I had no idea what was going on. I got out my cell phone (like any clueless 17 year old would) and called my mom. As I'm chatting with her about what the professors said and what I learned and how much I hated my job at Chuck E Cheese's, I heard someone telling me to get out of the way. I looked up just in time to see a gigantic dragon walking down the sidewalk towards me with his tongue slipping eerily in and out of its mouth.
I wasn't a Biology student yet, but I knew it was poisonous. I lept off of the sidewalk and while I was trying to catch my breath (that hill was BAD) I just explained to my mother what just happened to me.
I wasn't sure, but either that was the coolest thing I'd ever seen or I was about to enter college at a place that might kill me...
Turns out I didn't die.
...went to Cal Poly Pomona for a counseling session before I enrolled in classes I met a gigantic Kimodo dragon.
No, I'm not joking. I was visiting the campus just after I had graduated from high school. I'd been there once before to attend my "early admission" day with my parents, but this time was different. I was on campus to meet with some of the professors (my advisor was on an expedition and wasn't available) to see which of the Biology tracks I should focus on.
It just happened to be the day of a very large reptile show, and it was being housed in Building 3 (the Science building). I had been visiting some professors in Building 8 (just below the Science building) and as I exited to walk up the back side of the hill towards the parking lot, I saw students literally jumping off of the sidewalk in front of me.
I had no idea what was going on. I got out my cell phone (like any clueless 17 year old would) and called my mom. As I'm chatting with her about what the professors said and what I learned and how much I hated my job at Chuck E Cheese's, I heard someone telling me to get out of the way. I looked up just in time to see a gigantic dragon walking down the sidewalk towards me with his tongue slipping eerily in and out of its mouth.
I wasn't a Biology student yet, but I knew it was poisonous. I lept off of the sidewalk and while I was trying to catch my breath (that hill was BAD) I just explained to my mother what just happened to me.
I wasn't sure, but either that was the coolest thing I'd ever seen or I was about to enter college at a place that might kill me...
Turns out I didn't die.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Day 18: If I could choose a different time period to live in it would be...
So my sorority sister already did this little excercise and she chronicled it here. Unfortunately, I was going to use a similar answer. She did an excellent job of using books to describe the time periods though, don't you think?
So I'll bring it to you a little differently, I want to be an early 1800's lady. The carriages. The balls. The dresses. The art of letter writing.
I think I could handle that.
But what about the uncertainty of being a lady in that era? What about the corsets? What about marriage as an act of desperation instead of love? What about all of the music and art the ladies were expected to master?
Wait a minute, some things haven't changed all that much.
I still have to put on Spanx. I still have to worry about an "advantageous marriage." I still have to be artistic and demure.
Except for one small thing: I can do all of these things on my own. I can have a job, own a home, marry when I want, marry when I want.
Alright, I'll scratch my answer and say that I'd still live in the time perioud I live in. I like it. I still think there is a long way to go for equality for women, but hey, we're getting there.
So I'll bring it to you a little differently, I want to be an early 1800's lady. The carriages. The balls. The dresses. The art of letter writing.
I think I could handle that.
But what about the uncertainty of being a lady in that era? What about the corsets? What about marriage as an act of desperation instead of love? What about all of the music and art the ladies were expected to master?
Wait a minute, some things haven't changed all that much.
I still have to put on Spanx. I still have to worry about an "advantageous marriage." I still have to be artistic and demure.
Except for one small thing: I can do all of these things on my own. I can have a job, own a home, marry when I want, marry when I want.
Alright, I'll scratch my answer and say that I'd still live in the time perioud I live in. I like it. I still think there is a long way to go for equality for women, but hey, we're getting there.
Off topic...But still a little cool?
So this week, Mike & I (well, mostly Mike) refinished my headlights. Most cars experience a "haze" or a "yellowing" after a long time on the road, but I've noticed Mustangs tend to do it worse than others.
It should probably be noted that I haven't had a whole lot of problems with my car, and I pray it stays this way. I'm not complaining for one second about my 10 year old car because I love that car and I think if the day comes that I ever have to trade her in, I will probably cry. Then again she's 10 years old, I'm not sure I can trade her in. She might get scrapped or something. So I guess I'll just have to keep my car. Forever.
Alright, besides the point.
First we popped out the main lights and blinker lights. Ladies and gentlemen, proof that my lights are original. 1999?!? Wow. My car is a 2000. They were made 1 year before that. Troopers I tell you. Troopers.
Next up, we polished and sprayed the cases with water. Mike polished. I sprayed. And took pictures. Lots of pictures.
Following that little excercise, I thought I'd check on Maddie. Well she was fine. Maddie was inside and she was concerned that someone had placed a headlight on top of her "bedroom."
Then it was back to spraying and sanding...
So here's a "before" and "after" shot for you...
And finally, a little look at Maddie when she decided that this game wasn't fun anymore and she didn't want anything to do with it.
It should probably be noted that I haven't had a whole lot of problems with my car, and I pray it stays this way. I'm not complaining for one second about my 10 year old car because I love that car and I think if the day comes that I ever have to trade her in, I will probably cry. Then again she's 10 years old, I'm not sure I can trade her in. She might get scrapped or something. So I guess I'll just have to keep my car. Forever.
Alright, besides the point.
First we popped out the main lights and blinker lights. Ladies and gentlemen, proof that my lights are original. 1999?!? Wow. My car is a 2000. They were made 1 year before that. Troopers I tell you. Troopers.
Next up, we polished and sprayed the cases with water. Mike polished. I sprayed. And took pictures. Lots of pictures.
Following that little excercise, I thought I'd check on Maddie. Well she was fine. Maddie was inside and she was concerned that someone had placed a headlight on top of her "bedroom."
Then it was back to spraying and sanding...
So here's a "before" and "after" shot for you...
And finally, a little look at Maddie when she decided that this game wasn't fun anymore and she didn't want anything to do with it.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Day 17: Why should I forgive?
forgive VERB
Well here's an easy enough answer: God told me to.
In my head is a two year old or a three year old little girl, she's standing in the doorway to go into school and her teacher is pushing her towards the classroom. She's got her hands crossed accross her body and she's snapping at her mother with witty remarks such as, "I don't wanna! I just don't wanna!"
I am that child. The classroom is the door to forgiveness. God is the teacher.
I pray that someday I'll be able to learn the art of forgiveness, but for the moment I'm not very good at it. Let me just say this once: You can do anything you want to me or say anything about that makes you feel better about yourself, however, the moment that you hurt a friend of mine or a family member you are my enemy. I never forgive those that intentionally cause pain on another individual in my life, I don't care who you are. I've always been this way, and I highly doubt I'll change.
You see, in my mind I'm a brat. I'm a tough cookie. I'm Atilla the Hun. (Okay, maybe that's a bit too far.) I don't need to defend myself because most of what you do to me doesn't hurt me. I'm not often emotional, and my way of deflecting mean comments is self-deprecation and I've gotten really good at it.
For example, I'm chubby. I know I'm chubby, so if you call me chubby one day then it won't matter because I've already said it. So there. I beat you to it.
However, if you were to call one of my friends chubby then I would have to tell you to shut your no-good, lie-spreading, ignorant and ugly mouth. I'd probably follow it up with something like, "Sure, she's a little over weight, but she can always lose weight. It's your ugly face that will probably never get fixed."
Sorry, that was a bit harsh. It was just an example.
But why else should I forgive? Maybe because hatred is a wasted energy. Mom always said it's worse to be indifferent to someone than it would be if you hated them. Hate and love are two very similar emotions, and I should focus on loving my dear ones more instead of hating my enemies. Right?
How about the stress factor? Stress takes years off of your life and causes eyebrow and forehead wrinkles. If I'm gonna be old and wrinkly, I want those wrinkles to be made mostly of laugh lines. Forget your stupid line down the middle of the forehead from frowning, I want my big cheeks to be covered with laughing wrinkles and freckles from laying out by the pool.
So that's why I should forgive. But maybe you need to find your own reasons.
1. transitive and intransitive verb stop being angry about something: to stop being angry about or resenting somebody or somebody's behaviorWhy should I forgive?
2. transitive verb pardon somebody: to excuse somebody for a mistake, misunderstanding, wrongdoing, or inappropriate behavior
3. transitive verb cancel obligation: to cancel an obligation such as a debt
Well here's an easy enough answer: God told me to.
Colossians 3:13Does that mean I want to forgive? Nope. Not one bit. Not at all. I'm a vengeful little booger and I don't want to. Even the Lord's Prayer has me asking God to "forgive my trespasses, as I forgive those who trespass against me."
Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.
In my head is a two year old or a three year old little girl, she's standing in the doorway to go into school and her teacher is pushing her towards the classroom. She's got her hands crossed accross her body and she's snapping at her mother with witty remarks such as, "I don't wanna! I just don't wanna!"
I am that child. The classroom is the door to forgiveness. God is the teacher.
I pray that someday I'll be able to learn the art of forgiveness, but for the moment I'm not very good at it. Let me just say this once: You can do anything you want to me or say anything about that makes you feel better about yourself, however, the moment that you hurt a friend of mine or a family member you are my enemy. I never forgive those that intentionally cause pain on another individual in my life, I don't care who you are. I've always been this way, and I highly doubt I'll change.
You see, in my mind I'm a brat. I'm a tough cookie. I'm Atilla the Hun. (Okay, maybe that's a bit too far.) I don't need to defend myself because most of what you do to me doesn't hurt me. I'm not often emotional, and my way of deflecting mean comments is self-deprecation and I've gotten really good at it.
For example, I'm chubby. I know I'm chubby, so if you call me chubby one day then it won't matter because I've already said it. So there. I beat you to it.
However, if you were to call one of my friends chubby then I would have to tell you to shut your no-good, lie-spreading, ignorant and ugly mouth. I'd probably follow it up with something like, "Sure, she's a little over weight, but she can always lose weight. It's your ugly face that will probably never get fixed."
Sorry, that was a bit harsh. It was just an example.
But why else should I forgive? Maybe because hatred is a wasted energy. Mom always said it's worse to be indifferent to someone than it would be if you hated them. Hate and love are two very similar emotions, and I should focus on loving my dear ones more instead of hating my enemies. Right?
How about the stress factor? Stress takes years off of your life and causes eyebrow and forehead wrinkles. If I'm gonna be old and wrinkly, I want those wrinkles to be made mostly of laugh lines. Forget your stupid line down the middle of the forehead from frowning, I want my big cheeks to be covered with laughing wrinkles and freckles from laying out by the pool.
So that's why I should forgive. But maybe you need to find your own reasons.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Day16: What is the first things that pops into my head when I think of my father?
The slipper story.
If you've never heard me tell the slipper story, well grab a cup of coffee and read on.
If you've heard it, I apologize in advance. It's much better told when the two of us are together, so I'll try to write it from the third person so you get both sides and not just mine.
Once upon a time there was a little girl. She lived in a two story house with her mother, her father, one dalmation, two welsh corgi's, an orange cat she had gotten for free outside of the grocery store, and a Plecostomus that looked like it was from the stone ages. This little girl didn't have any brothers or sisters to torment, so instead she played tricks on her parents.
To pass her mischevious time, she would sneak out the back gate and go play with her neighbors grandchildren when they were visiting. The little girl was always very cautious though, because she wasn't supposed to cross the street by herself. Instead she just stayed on the sidewalks and ran up and down the block because the other children usually had Squeeze-Its at their house. (Remember Squeeze-Its?)
So when she would get bored, she would do silly things to try to trick her father. One day, after watching Nickelodeon in the morning, she snuck into his bathroom where her father kept his robe and his slippers. He was still asleep, so she stuffed little bits of toilet paper into the ends of his slippers.
When the sleepy daddy woke up that morning and wandered into the bathroom for his robe and his slippers, he was very confused. He hadn't had his coffee yet, so he spent about fifteen minutes putting his slippers on. He would think he had them on the wrong feet, so then he'd switch them back. The little girl had put just enough toilet paper in the tips so that he was confused, but not entirely sure what was wrong. They were "any foot" slippers, but somehow he thought that maybe by wearing them in a bit, they'd become conformed to a specific foot.
Finally he reached into the toes of his slippers and pulled out the little bits of toilet paper and came downstairs for his coffee and comics.
The best part was, the little girl was able to pull of that trick a couple more times with the same effect! He would be so sleepy he would just get confused and try to switch his slippers from foot to foot.
If you've never heard me tell the slipper story, well grab a cup of coffee and read on.
If you've heard it, I apologize in advance. It's much better told when the two of us are together, so I'll try to write it from the third person so you get both sides and not just mine.
Once upon a time there was a little girl. She lived in a two story house with her mother, her father, one dalmation, two welsh corgi's, an orange cat she had gotten for free outside of the grocery store, and a Plecostomus that looked like it was from the stone ages. This little girl didn't have any brothers or sisters to torment, so instead she played tricks on her parents.
To pass her mischevious time, she would sneak out the back gate and go play with her neighbors grandchildren when they were visiting. The little girl was always very cautious though, because she wasn't supposed to cross the street by herself. Instead she just stayed on the sidewalks and ran up and down the block because the other children usually had Squeeze-Its at their house. (Remember Squeeze-Its?)
So when she would get bored, she would do silly things to try to trick her father. One day, after watching Nickelodeon in the morning, she snuck into his bathroom where her father kept his robe and his slippers. He was still asleep, so she stuffed little bits of toilet paper into the ends of his slippers.
When the sleepy daddy woke up that morning and wandered into the bathroom for his robe and his slippers, he was very confused. He hadn't had his coffee yet, so he spent about fifteen minutes putting his slippers on. He would think he had them on the wrong feet, so then he'd switch them back. The little girl had put just enough toilet paper in the tips so that he was confused, but not entirely sure what was wrong. They were "any foot" slippers, but somehow he thought that maybe by wearing them in a bit, they'd become conformed to a specific foot.
Finally he reached into the toes of his slippers and pulled out the little bits of toilet paper and came downstairs for his coffee and comics.
The best part was, the little girl was able to pull of that trick a couple more times with the same effect! He would be so sleepy he would just get confused and try to switch his slippers from foot to foot.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Day 15: Sisters
For this entry, I'm bringing back the old school stuff! That's right, 9 years ago I got a bid to join the greatest fraternity on the planet: Zeta Tau Alpha. From that moment on, I went from being an only child to having more sisters than I could count.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Day 14: Current fascination
This Website
I'm hooked.
I talk about this lady like we're old friends.
Her name is Ree. It's almost as wierd as Kipp.
I try to convince Mike to be a cattle farmer like Ree's husbad. (He says no. I shut up when he starts talking about waking up at 4am. He wins.)
I have holey yoga pants too.
I have a new found love for butter thanks to this lady. (I didn't eat butter for about 5 years.)
I cook a LOT thanks to this lady.
I have the urge to wear earrings thanks to this lady. (I don't wear earrings unless I'm a bridesmaid and the bride hands me a pair of earrings and says "put these on" and I sulk and kick and scream. Then I wear them and surprisingly I survive it.)
Anyways. That's my fascination.
Oh yah, and she shoots a Nikon like I do. I love her.
I'm hooked.
I talk about this lady like we're old friends.
Her name is Ree. It's almost as wierd as Kipp.
I try to convince Mike to be a cattle farmer like Ree's husbad. (He says no. I shut up when he starts talking about waking up at 4am. He wins.)
I have holey yoga pants too.
I have a new found love for butter thanks to this lady. (I didn't eat butter for about 5 years.)
I cook a LOT thanks to this lady.
I have the urge to wear earrings thanks to this lady. (I don't wear earrings unless I'm a bridesmaid and the bride hands me a pair of earrings and says "put these on" and I sulk and kick and scream. Then I wear them and surprisingly I survive it.)
Anyways. That's my fascination.
Oh yah, and she shoots a Nikon like I do. I love her.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Day 13: Weird is...
Weird is coffee. I want to know, what genius decided he was going to make coffee? Do you think he sat down one day and said, "Gee, I'm tired. I need something that's bitter and strong and tastes a little bit like dirt to wake me up!"
Or was it something like, "My sister in law is a raging bitch. I'm gonna make her this drink and tell her it's a delicacy. She's such a snob she'll have to drink it and pretend to like it if she things it's something fabulous!"
I know what it was. There was a really, really old man. He was picking the beans one day because his wife told him to. As he grumbled along at what a useless task his wife had given him, he laid down and fell asleep in the sun. The beans were left in the sun and in the evening, he woke up in a field and he was hungry. All he had to eat were these stupid dried beans. He built a fire and put the smashed up beans in the water and boiled it to drink.
In the morning, his wife found him and she tasted the dark drink he had made the night before. She screamed out in excitement, "Finally! You have done something without me asking you to do it! Now if only I could "accidently" get you to do the laundry?"
Okay, okay. That's not it, I'm sure. But no matter how it was invented, I still find it wierd.
Coffee at Wikipedia
Or was it something like, "My sister in law is a raging bitch. I'm gonna make her this drink and tell her it's a delicacy. She's such a snob she'll have to drink it and pretend to like it if she things it's something fabulous!"
I know what it was. There was a really, really old man. He was picking the beans one day because his wife told him to. As he grumbled along at what a useless task his wife had given him, he laid down and fell asleep in the sun. The beans were left in the sun and in the evening, he woke up in a field and he was hungry. All he had to eat were these stupid dried beans. He built a fire and put the smashed up beans in the water and boiled it to drink.
In the morning, his wife found him and she tasted the dark drink he had made the night before. She screamed out in excitement, "Finally! You have done something without me asking you to do it! Now if only I could "accidently" get you to do the laundry?"
Okay, okay. That's not it, I'm sure. But no matter how it was invented, I still find it wierd.
Coffee at Wikipedia
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Day 12: My favorite season
California's Real Seasons
Let's be real. California doesn't have a winter, spring, summer and fall. We've got fire season, flood season, draught season, and earthquake season.
You think I'm joking.
I'm not.
People who live here will tell you that our seasons seem to be getting a lot worse lately. Earthquake season is lasting a lot longer. Flood season is affecting a lot more of the area.
Right now we're in a bit of earthquake season, but we appear to be sliding into fire season. Just this week, random lightning strikes lit a few hill sides in Riverside on fire. After the fire season will be the drought season. This will, of course, lead us into flood season. During flood season we'll take on so much water that we'll have mud slides throughout the area.
Side note: Stupid people build their houses on the sides of hills in Malibu, then they cry when the house slides into the ocean after it rains a lot. Californians aren't the brightest crayons in the box.
So as far as seasons go, I don't have a favorite. Often times though, somewhere in March or April, the weather is warm enough for dresses or shorts and cool enough to do your hair and make up. There will usually be flowers and a breeze, sometimes it's a beach day or you might even be able to head up to the mountains for some last minute snow boarding. That's my favorite time of the year. Equilibrium.
Let's be real. California doesn't have a winter, spring, summer and fall. We've got fire season, flood season, draught season, and earthquake season.
You think I'm joking.
I'm not.
People who live here will tell you that our seasons seem to be getting a lot worse lately. Earthquake season is lasting a lot longer. Flood season is affecting a lot more of the area.
Right now we're in a bit of earthquake season, but we appear to be sliding into fire season. Just this week, random lightning strikes lit a few hill sides in Riverside on fire. After the fire season will be the drought season. This will, of course, lead us into flood season. During flood season we'll take on so much water that we'll have mud slides throughout the area.
Side note: Stupid people build their houses on the sides of hills in Malibu, then they cry when the house slides into the ocean after it rains a lot. Californians aren't the brightest crayons in the box.
So as far as seasons go, I don't have a favorite. Often times though, somewhere in March or April, the weather is warm enough for dresses or shorts and cool enough to do your hair and make up. There will usually be flowers and a breeze, sometimes it's a beach day or you might even be able to head up to the mountains for some last minute snow boarding. That's my favorite time of the year. Equilibrium.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Day 11: 3 reasons to get out of bed tomorrow
I complain a lot. I complain because it's what the women in my family do. Then we complain because we have to listen to eachother complain. It's a vicous cycle.
But this is an easy question to answer: What are 3 reasons to get out of bet tomorrow.
Reason #1: I have to work. We're busy at the lab and after a bit of a dry spell, I can honestly say I'm excited to work. A backlog means clients and clients mean money and money means I get to continue to work. I might complain that we're busy, but let me say this now: I'm grateful to be busy and I'm grateful to be employed. I also have to do a ladies night this weekend, but let me say this again: I'm grateful to have booked this party and I'm grateful to have a little pocket money from it, no matter how much. I will wake up Sunday with a few more dollars in my pocket than I had on Saturday.
Reason #2: I have to clean and cook for a hungry beast. Oh yah, and I make Maddie's breakfast too. Just kidding Mike! This might sounds like complaining to you, but trust me, it's not a complaint. I love having a home that we have to maintain. I love having a little yard that we have to sweep. I love having clothes that we have to wash. I love this life we're creating, but sometimes it's hard. I don't want to clean the stove, but I want to eat food that I've cooked on the stove. Stupid "what goes up, must come down" theory: "what gets used to cook, must also be cleaned."
Reason #3: It's another sunny day in California. I keep hearing people complain about the heat, but would you leave California? Probably not. We've got traffic, heat waves, earthquakes, and thunderstorms right now. But what else do we have? We've got every food treat under the sun. We've got every movie theater chain you can think of. We've got swimming pools and beaches. We've got backyards and bbq's. We've got malls and outlets. You can do just about anything you want to do in California, and I personally wouldn't have it any other way.
(But I wouldn't mind a little vacation either...)
But this is an easy question to answer: What are 3 reasons to get out of bet tomorrow.
Reason #1: I have to work. We're busy at the lab and after a bit of a dry spell, I can honestly say I'm excited to work. A backlog means clients and clients mean money and money means I get to continue to work. I might complain that we're busy, but let me say this now: I'm grateful to be busy and I'm grateful to be employed. I also have to do a ladies night this weekend, but let me say this again: I'm grateful to have booked this party and I'm grateful to have a little pocket money from it, no matter how much. I will wake up Sunday with a few more dollars in my pocket than I had on Saturday.
Reason #2: I have to clean and cook for a hungry beast. Oh yah, and I make Maddie's breakfast too. Just kidding Mike! This might sounds like complaining to you, but trust me, it's not a complaint. I love having a home that we have to maintain. I love having a little yard that we have to sweep. I love having clothes that we have to wash. I love this life we're creating, but sometimes it's hard. I don't want to clean the stove, but I want to eat food that I've cooked on the stove. Stupid "what goes up, must come down" theory: "what gets used to cook, must also be cleaned."
Reason #3: It's another sunny day in California. I keep hearing people complain about the heat, but would you leave California? Probably not. We've got traffic, heat waves, earthquakes, and thunderstorms right now. But what else do we have? We've got every food treat under the sun. We've got every movie theater chain you can think of. We've got swimming pools and beaches. We've got backyards and bbq's. We've got malls and outlets. You can do just about anything you want to do in California, and I personally wouldn't have it any other way.
(But I wouldn't mind a little vacation either...)
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Day 10: A typical sight around the house...
SHOES!!!
We have shoes on the stair case. Shoes by the back door. Shoes in the closet.
Man we need to get our shoes under control.
Oh yah, and you'll see this heavenly creature napping on the couch 95% of the time.
We have shoes on the stair case. Shoes by the back door. Shoes in the closet.
Man we need to get our shoes under control.
Oh yah, and you'll see this heavenly creature napping on the couch 95% of the time.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Day 9: Describe a typical Sunday as a child
There was a time in my life where we would go to the same restaraunt every Sunday for brunch and then grocery shopping.
That restaraunt was called Edokko's and it was a Japanese buffet style restaraunt in Pasadena. Every single Japanese meal of my life has been compared to this place every since. They set the bar for my favorite tempura, sushi, desserts, etc. Now when I eat that kind of food, I think "was that as good as Edokko's?"
I know what you're thinking. Can a Japanese buffet really be that good? It was. Trust me.
Then, after we'd stuffed ourselves silly, we'd pile into the car and head over to go grocery shopping. That was perfect! Never go grocery shopping hungry. Instead, eat at a buffet and then go!
Man I miss those days.
That restaraunt was called Edokko's and it was a Japanese buffet style restaraunt in Pasadena. Every single Japanese meal of my life has been compared to this place every since. They set the bar for my favorite tempura, sushi, desserts, etc. Now when I eat that kind of food, I think "was that as good as Edokko's?"
I know what you're thinking. Can a Japanese buffet really be that good? It was. Trust me.
Then, after we'd stuffed ourselves silly, we'd pile into the car and head over to go grocery shopping. That was perfect! Never go grocery shopping hungry. Instead, eat at a buffet and then go!
Man I miss those days.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Day 8: Playing favorites.
Playing favorites doesn't mean anything to me because I'm an only child. I was my father's favorite and my mother's favorite, and believe me I knew it.
So instead I'm gonna tell you some of my favorite things. This way I can avoid a lengthy and fanatical blog post and it can be fun and light.
This was my favorite book when I was a child and I'm pretty sure my parents read it to me so many times that they could then stop reading it to me and I would recite it to them.
My favorite author, if you haven't already guessed, is this lady right here. Love. Humor. Nasty people get what's coming to them in the end. We all live happily ever after with our soul mates. Yup. That's my favorite fantasy world.
The coolest shopping website in my mind is this site right here and they have everything from jewelery to cutlery and home goods. My favorite part about the site is that the link above takes you to the page where you shop by color. You pick a color and they show you everything they have for sale that has that color in it. Looking for a specific shade of pink earrings? Click that pink and shop! Looking for a blue bowl? Find it here!
Since I was a little girl and went to school in the area, I've dreamed of getting married at this place but now I'm not sure I have the audacity to plan a big wedding. I had this creamy butter yellow and happy robin's egg blue wedding planned out in my head, but now I don't know if it's a waste of money or not. But hey, a girl can still dream, right?
When I grow up, I want to be this lady right here except I don't think Mike wants to own a working cattle ranch and frankly, I'm afraid to have 4 children. I still think she's amazing. Plus, her real name is "Ree" and I love quick and sassy names like "Ree" and "Kipp." Well, it's true. I do.
Last, but certainly not least. I could eat these cookies every single day for the rest of my life. I wouldn't need anything else but a ceasar salad every once in a while. I think I could survive.
So that's it. It's a little view of my favorite things in life. Now go find stuff that makes you happy!
So instead I'm gonna tell you some of my favorite things. This way I can avoid a lengthy and fanatical blog post and it can be fun and light.
This was my favorite book when I was a child and I'm pretty sure my parents read it to me so many times that they could then stop reading it to me and I would recite it to them.
My favorite author, if you haven't already guessed, is this lady right here. Love. Humor. Nasty people get what's coming to them in the end. We all live happily ever after with our soul mates. Yup. That's my favorite fantasy world.
The coolest shopping website in my mind is this site right here and they have everything from jewelery to cutlery and home goods. My favorite part about the site is that the link above takes you to the page where you shop by color. You pick a color and they show you everything they have for sale that has that color in it. Looking for a specific shade of pink earrings? Click that pink and shop! Looking for a blue bowl? Find it here!
Since I was a little girl and went to school in the area, I've dreamed of getting married at this place but now I'm not sure I have the audacity to plan a big wedding. I had this creamy butter yellow and happy robin's egg blue wedding planned out in my head, but now I don't know if it's a waste of money or not. But hey, a girl can still dream, right?
When I grow up, I want to be this lady right here except I don't think Mike wants to own a working cattle ranch and frankly, I'm afraid to have 4 children. I still think she's amazing. Plus, her real name is "Ree" and I love quick and sassy names like "Ree" and "Kipp." Well, it's true. I do.
Last, but certainly not least. I could eat these cookies every single day for the rest of my life. I wouldn't need anything else but a ceasar salad every once in a while. I think I could survive.
So that's it. It's a little view of my favorite things in life. Now go find stuff that makes you happy!
Monday, July 12, 2010
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Day 6: I am good at...
I am good at a couple of things in everyday life like cooking or scrapbooking. I'm not too bad at taking pictures.
But there's one thing that I think I'm pretty good at and I try to get better at every single day. I think I'm good at loving. I'm a good lover. There, I said it. But not in the "lover" aspect that you're thinking.
I love to love. I love to love flowers. I love to love pictures. I love to love people. I love to love animals. I love to love books.
I say love a lot, but don't mistake that for me not meaning that I don't love you. I don't say love unless I mean it. When I tell you I love you, or I love the food you just gave me, or the drink you just poured me, I really do love it. I don't rank things that I love in the order of how much I love them, because every single day that order would change. Last Thursday morning I loved coffee, tomorrow morning I might love Crystal Light. But take either of those away from me, and you'll find me a grave soul.
The same goes for you my friends, I may spend a day with family or friends that I love, but that doesn't mean I love you any less or any more. I shower my attention and love on whatever or whomever is present at that time, and I hope I do an excellent job of focusing on you all at specific times in our lives.
I love you.
But there's one thing that I think I'm pretty good at and I try to get better at every single day. I think I'm good at loving. I'm a good lover. There, I said it. But not in the "lover" aspect that you're thinking.
I love to love. I love to love flowers. I love to love pictures. I love to love people. I love to love animals. I love to love books.
I say love a lot, but don't mistake that for me not meaning that I don't love you. I don't say love unless I mean it. When I tell you I love you, or I love the food you just gave me, or the drink you just poured me, I really do love it. I don't rank things that I love in the order of how much I love them, because every single day that order would change. Last Thursday morning I loved coffee, tomorrow morning I might love Crystal Light. But take either of those away from me, and you'll find me a grave soul.
The same goes for you my friends, I may spend a day with family or friends that I love, but that doesn't mean I love you any less or any more. I shower my attention and love on whatever or whomever is present at that time, and I hope I do an excellent job of focusing on you all at specific times in our lives.
I love you.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Day 5: Thoughts on growing old
Growing old is a touchy subject for most people, but not for my friends and I. We talk about it quite often actually.
I want to grow old with a couple of stipulations:
I want my best friend there. I need to grow old with someone who's seen me at my prime and seen my slide slowly and gracefully through all of life's stages. I want to enter into that "old" stage with dignity and a cocktail. No, I'm not kidding. Mike, get ready for the long haul.
I want to be surrounded by clubs and activities for all of my friends and I. I want day trips to museums. I want us to wear purple, red, or outlandishly styled hats. I want to buy kimonos and flowy dresses with my girlfriends. We'll be the most stylish white haired ladies you'll ever see.
I want to eat what I want when I want. I'll spend the first 75% of my life going on and off of diets, but believe me when I say this: when I'm old I will not count calories. If I want a cream puff for breakfast I will eat it. Why? Because I don't know how many more breakfasts I'll get on this planet and I'm not convinced there are cream puffs in heaven.
And when my number's called, and everybody better take note of this one, I want a party. Burn my body. Put it in a shoebox or some vintage urn. I really don't give a damn. I won't be there to pick it out. But what I do want is a party. Invite everyone. Bring pictures of you and I. Tell my stories. I want to go out with a big fat bang. Make sure the party is loud so that when I get to the pearly gates, Peter says something like "Gee, those friends of yours sure know how to party. I can't wait until they're up here!"
I'm not afraid of growing old, it's the thought of not growing old that scares me.
I want to grow old with a couple of stipulations:
I want my best friend there. I need to grow old with someone who's seen me at my prime and seen my slide slowly and gracefully through all of life's stages. I want to enter into that "old" stage with dignity and a cocktail. No, I'm not kidding. Mike, get ready for the long haul.
I want to be surrounded by clubs and activities for all of my friends and I. I want day trips to museums. I want us to wear purple, red, or outlandishly styled hats. I want to buy kimonos and flowy dresses with my girlfriends. We'll be the most stylish white haired ladies you'll ever see.
I want to eat what I want when I want. I'll spend the first 75% of my life going on and off of diets, but believe me when I say this: when I'm old I will not count calories. If I want a cream puff for breakfast I will eat it. Why? Because I don't know how many more breakfasts I'll get on this planet and I'm not convinced there are cream puffs in heaven.
And when my number's called, and everybody better take note of this one, I want a party. Burn my body. Put it in a shoebox or some vintage urn. I really don't give a damn. I won't be there to pick it out. But what I do want is a party. Invite everyone. Bring pictures of you and I. Tell my stories. I want to go out with a big fat bang. Make sure the party is loud so that when I get to the pearly gates, Peter says something like "Gee, those friends of yours sure know how to party. I can't wait until they're up here!"
I'm not afraid of growing old, it's the thought of not growing old that scares me.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Day 4: My Best Friend
Well I think we have a tie here folks.
People always associate their "best friend" with someone that they can tell anything to, who will support them and love them regardless of their flaws, and who is always standing by them when everyone else walks away.
That's my mom:
Even when I have pink highlights or I've just gotten into a fender bender, I can always tell my mom.
But lately, even as life makes it easier for us to talk about anything, there are more and more times when Mike is becoming my best friend. When I come home after a long day of work, he's the one that I can talk to. When I'm upset with someone or something, he's the one that is next to me.
So you see, I'm lucky. I have two best friends and even greater than all of that, I have a support system of women that seem to be able to pick me up when even my mom and Mike can't do it. You ladies know who you are. The gym time. The wine trips. The random Tuesday afternoon phone calls just to catch up.
People always associate their "best friend" with someone that they can tell anything to, who will support them and love them regardless of their flaws, and who is always standing by them when everyone else walks away.
That's my mom:
Even when I have pink highlights or I've just gotten into a fender bender, I can always tell my mom.
But lately, even as life makes it easier for us to talk about anything, there are more and more times when Mike is becoming my best friend. When I come home after a long day of work, he's the one that I can talk to. When I'm upset with someone or something, he's the one that is next to me.
So you see, I'm lucky. I have two best friends and even greater than all of that, I have a support system of women that seem to be able to pick me up when even my mom and Mike can't do it. You ladies know who you are. The gym time. The wine trips. The random Tuesday afternoon phone calls just to catch up.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Day 3: Generalizations are...
As defined by Encarta World English Dictionary: Generalizations are...
To me: Generalizations are...discouraging.
Really, they're discouraging. Every single day, people make generalizations regarding people and events that they may know nothing about. This is a discouraging view of our society. At our best, human beings are incomplete and fallible and our ignorant generalizations are proof of it.
At almost every low point in our history, a segment of society has made a generalization regarding another group of individuals that lead to some sort of loss, war, or genocide. Starting in our childhood we're exposed to Moses freeing the slaves from the Pharoah from Exodus. Then we enter into American history only to find out that whites and blacks were segregated and not allowed equal rights. By the time I moved on to world history and learned of Hitler and his leadership's genocide of Jews, I'm sick to my stomach.
All of these instances, as well as countless other that I have not mentioned, are based on a generalization. One group of human beings generalizes that they are better than another, and therefore the other segment of society has their rights reduced or is even killed. If man was made in God's image, how is one group of individuals less worthy than another? How can you deny that he made us all different, but equally important? How can you put someone into a hypothetical box and then label them based off of that assumption?
Well I cannot do it.
Just 4 days ago, we celebrated the birth of our nation. Just 4 days ago, Mike and I were sitting on the cough and he started reading the Declaration of Independence and I honestly got a little teary eyed. We are endowed by our Creator certain unalienable rights, and I'll be damned if I'm going to stop fighting for them. I believe that the authors of the Declaration of Independence saw generalizations to be dangerous as well, which is why they defined us as created equal. I believe that they were correct, and I hope that you will as well.
If you haven't read the Declaration in a while, click on that link above and go read it. It'll remind you that you live in the greatest nation on Earth, and I hope you don't need too much reminding of that very often.
1. sweeping statement: a statement presented as a general truth but based on limited or incomplete evidence
2. general statement: a statement or conclusion that is derived from and applies equally to a number of cases
3. making of generalizations: the making of general or sweeping statements
To me: Generalizations are...discouraging.
Really, they're discouraging. Every single day, people make generalizations regarding people and events that they may know nothing about. This is a discouraging view of our society. At our best, human beings are incomplete and fallible and our ignorant generalizations are proof of it.
At almost every low point in our history, a segment of society has made a generalization regarding another group of individuals that lead to some sort of loss, war, or genocide. Starting in our childhood we're exposed to Moses freeing the slaves from the Pharoah from Exodus. Then we enter into American history only to find out that whites and blacks were segregated and not allowed equal rights. By the time I moved on to world history and learned of Hitler and his leadership's genocide of Jews, I'm sick to my stomach.
All of these instances, as well as countless other that I have not mentioned, are based on a generalization. One group of human beings generalizes that they are better than another, and therefore the other segment of society has their rights reduced or is even killed. If man was made in God's image, how is one group of individuals less worthy than another? How can you deny that he made us all different, but equally important? How can you put someone into a hypothetical box and then label them based off of that assumption?
Well I cannot do it.
Just 4 days ago, we celebrated the birth of our nation. Just 4 days ago, Mike and I were sitting on the cough and he started reading the Declaration of Independence and I honestly got a little teary eyed. We are endowed by our Creator certain unalienable rights, and I'll be damned if I'm going to stop fighting for them. I believe that the authors of the Declaration of Independence saw generalizations to be dangerous as well, which is why they defined us as created equal. I believe that they were correct, and I hope that you will as well.
If you haven't read the Declaration in a while, click on that link above and go read it. It'll remind you that you live in the greatest nation on Earth, and I hope you don't need too much reminding of that very often.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Day 2: A photo of something I do to keep cool in the Summer months
That's right folks! I make ice cream! I made 3 batches of it this weekend: 1 berry custard and 2 of Mike's grandfather's super secret and sweet vanilla.
Wow. We had some good eats.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Day 1: What is my favorite poem?
Day 1: What is my favorite poem?
It's not the most meaningful of the poems I like, such as this one is.
It's not a really long poem, such as this one is.
But it brings a smile to my face each and every time that I read it or hear it spoken. It has since the day that my mother brought me to the Huntington Library and bought be a book by Ogden Nash. It was a poetry book, specifically about animals called Zoo and very well suited for children. Enjoy!
The Termite
by Ogden Nash
It's not the most meaningful of the poems I like, such as this one is.
It's not a really long poem, such as this one is.
But it brings a smile to my face each and every time that I read it or hear it spoken. It has since the day that my mother brought me to the Huntington Library and bought be a book by Ogden Nash. It was a poetry book, specifically about animals called Zoo and very well suited for children. Enjoy!
The Termite
by Ogden Nash
Some primal termite knocked on wood
And tasted it, and found it good!
And that is why your Cousin May
Fell through the parlor floor today.
30 Days of Blogs
Many of you know that sorority sisters do everything together. We eat together. We go on road trips together. We laugh together. We compete together. We cry together.
That's why when my friend and Zeta sister, Katie, started this little 30 day blog experiment I decided that I'd hop on board. She puts thought into her responses. She's a very well read individual. She's funny.
I want to do the same thing. 30 days. 30 topics. 30 unedited answers.
Katie's a bit ahead of me, but you can see her responses on her blog by clicking here .
Enjoy! Topic numero uno coming up next!
That's why when my friend and Zeta sister, Katie, started this little 30 day blog experiment I decided that I'd hop on board. She puts thought into her responses. She's a very well read individual. She's funny.
I want to do the same thing. 30 days. 30 topics. 30 unedited answers.
Katie's a bit ahead of me, but you can see her responses on her blog by clicking here .
Enjoy! Topic numero uno coming up next!
Friday, July 2, 2010
A Sad Day
Well I haven't been so "peppy" these days and it seems like a lot is weighing on my mind. I apologize to those of you who have missed the old Kipp. She's on vacation. I am apparently her older, more solemn version.
Well, any-who. This morning I woke up feeling ever so slightly optimistic again. I thought I'd make some breakfast and I'd get right back to being happy-go-lucky since it was Friday and all.
I went downstairs and grabbed the newspaper off of my front porch. Front section. A few pages in. On the left. I saw a picture that I recognized from a my childhood. I picture I had a really fond memory of. But instead of a picture and an amazing story, it was a picture and an obituary.
George Brown's Article
So here I go, the water works start. I'm leaking again. Sometimes it just sucks to be a girl!
I digress. Sorry.
Mr. Brown was a volunteer at the Museum of Tolerance, and he has been for over 15 years by my calculations. You see when I was somewhere around 10 or 12, I went to the Museum of Tolerance for a field trip with my class. I can't remember the grade. I can't remember who was there. But what I do remember was the shock it brought to me and the utter horror I felt. Nothing like that could ever happen again, not as far as I was concerned. I couldn't let it.
At the end of our day, we had an appointment with an actual holocaust survivor. Well I was too young or stupid to realize what this meant. Holocaust victims were myths to me. They lived in books like the Diary of Anne Frank, which Mr. McLaughlin had us read. Perhaps they moved back to Europe where their original homes had been. There was no way that a holocaust survivor lived in LA and was ever going to shake my hand.
Well knock me over with a feather: Mr. George Brown spoke to us that afternoon in haunting detail. We weren't even teenagers, but I think he was very truthful and rather frank with us. We were the future. We were not allowed to forget. He told us his entire story, from the separation from his mother and sisters all the way through his father's passing. Then he told us how he came to Canada, then the East coast, and finally settling here: in Southern California. He spoke lovingly of his wife. He talked about his successes as an American. He reminded us of his past. Then he thanked us. He shook our hands. He answered our questions. He treated us like human beings and not children. That was the epitome of tolerance.
I have a book that he wrote somewhere packed away in one of my moving boxes. My mother bought it after she cried through his presentation, and Mr. Brown signed it for me. I'll never forget it. I have a book signed by the author. I have a book signed by a great man, a tolerant man. It was short book, and I picked it up about 3 or 4 times over the past 10 or so years to read it.
So I cried today, but then I stopped rather suddenly. It was almost as if I felt God telling me "Don't worry, I've got him. He's with his family again." And then I smiled.
So thank you, Mr. Brown, for showing me tolerance in a pure form. Thank you for telling your story so many times to so many children and adults such as myself. Thank you for not being afraid. Thank you for persevering. You taught me so much in such a short time span, and I will forever be grateful.
Well, any-who. This morning I woke up feeling ever so slightly optimistic again. I thought I'd make some breakfast and I'd get right back to being happy-go-lucky since it was Friday and all.
I went downstairs and grabbed the newspaper off of my front porch. Front section. A few pages in. On the left. I saw a picture that I recognized from a my childhood. I picture I had a really fond memory of. But instead of a picture and an amazing story, it was a picture and an obituary.
George Brown's Article
So here I go, the water works start. I'm leaking again. Sometimes it just sucks to be a girl!
I digress. Sorry.
Mr. Brown was a volunteer at the Museum of Tolerance, and he has been for over 15 years by my calculations. You see when I was somewhere around 10 or 12, I went to the Museum of Tolerance for a field trip with my class. I can't remember the grade. I can't remember who was there. But what I do remember was the shock it brought to me and the utter horror I felt. Nothing like that could ever happen again, not as far as I was concerned. I couldn't let it.
At the end of our day, we had an appointment with an actual holocaust survivor. Well I was too young or stupid to realize what this meant. Holocaust victims were myths to me. They lived in books like the Diary of Anne Frank, which Mr. McLaughlin had us read. Perhaps they moved back to Europe where their original homes had been. There was no way that a holocaust survivor lived in LA and was ever going to shake my hand.
Well knock me over with a feather: Mr. George Brown spoke to us that afternoon in haunting detail. We weren't even teenagers, but I think he was very truthful and rather frank with us. We were the future. We were not allowed to forget. He told us his entire story, from the separation from his mother and sisters all the way through his father's passing. Then he told us how he came to Canada, then the East coast, and finally settling here: in Southern California. He spoke lovingly of his wife. He talked about his successes as an American. He reminded us of his past. Then he thanked us. He shook our hands. He answered our questions. He treated us like human beings and not children. That was the epitome of tolerance.
I have a book that he wrote somewhere packed away in one of my moving boxes. My mother bought it after she cried through his presentation, and Mr. Brown signed it for me. I'll never forget it. I have a book signed by the author. I have a book signed by a great man, a tolerant man. It was short book, and I picked it up about 3 or 4 times over the past 10 or so years to read it.
So I cried today, but then I stopped rather suddenly. It was almost as if I felt God telling me "Don't worry, I've got him. He's with his family again." And then I smiled.
So thank you, Mr. Brown, for showing me tolerance in a pure form. Thank you for telling your story so many times to so many children and adults such as myself. Thank you for not being afraid. Thank you for persevering. You taught me so much in such a short time span, and I will forever be grateful.
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