tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71461550202929508962024-02-19T09:35:36.387-06:00Between the LinesUmmm, it's all about me. And other stuff. And it's about you too, if you care to leave a comment. Which you should. Right now.Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.comBlogger124125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-75742592335561812022012-04-19T12:00:00.002-05:002012-04-19T12:00:18.101-05:00So, I was thinking that I need to start writing again. I know, I know -- you've been long-sufferingly awaiting this announcement (and no, long-sufferingly is probably not a word, but I'm rusty).
"You", of course, being in all likelihood either nobody, or just me. Depending on what side of existential thinking you fall. Does exisential thinking have a side? Let's ponder.
If no one reads it, does the blog really exist?Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-71929498236729298102010-09-04T21:36:00.003-05:002010-09-04T21:39:57.531-05:00I Gave Birth To BigfootIt's Saturday night, so what are all the cool kids doing? Interviewing each other. Okay, so the cool kids are totally not doing that, but we are. My questions, daughter Johanna's answers. Go.<br /><br />1. If you were a kind of juice, what kind of juice would you be?<br />Pineapple.<br /><br />2. What time of day are you? why?<br />I'm all day. I'm all day, every day.<br /><br />3. If you were a school administrator, how would you deal with racism?<br />I wouldn't.<br /><br />4. What's one thing about yourself that no one else knows?<br />I make life decisions in the shower, and I don't wear pants when I'm doing my makeup.<br /><br />5. If you were going to a deserted island and could only take three things, what would they be?<br />Tyler Goodrich's backpack, my camera, and eyeliner.<br /><br />6. Who would you want to have on the island with you?<br />Tyler Goodrich, because how am I gonna get his backpack without him?<br /><br />7. If you were a chicken, what would your name be?<br />Chicken.<br /><br />8. What's one stereotype that you TOTALLY think is true?<br />That girls are catty weiners.<br /><br />9. If you are on the cover of a gossip magazine someday, which one would it be and why?<br />The National Enquirer, because I'm Bigfoot.<br /><br />10. Candles or firebombs?<br />Firebombs. Duh.Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-77411018954449028002010-08-14T10:19:00.008-05:002010-08-14T10:35:22.088-05:00Ever Heard of a Crop Rectangle?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp7VWwqFa_klcZzybdMg-_wubdypnMxQLHu1AdFoYlTuH6Oqk0CFQ61RDbRHlR_XiTqWaSDRj0DNou6qPD7cDFiWYTmlIrNLZRbSCeHtmW3UVapJqQQrLfPxGJaoO7MhL4SfZv2pT1HFQ/s1600/P1010038.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505288854926305442" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp7VWwqFa_klcZzybdMg-_wubdypnMxQLHu1AdFoYlTuH6Oqk0CFQ61RDbRHlR_XiTqWaSDRj0DNou6qPD7cDFiWYTmlIrNLZRbSCeHtmW3UVapJqQQrLfPxGJaoO7MhL4SfZv2pT1HFQ/s320/P1010038.JPG" /></a>Big storm last night here in southwest Illinois -- not exactly newsworthy, but then woke up and looked at the community garden that happens to be in my backyard to see that the corn had disappeared.<br /><br />Well, that's what it looked like at first -- actually it was laid flat. Which, after a storm, wouldn't be so weird except not a single other thing was blown around, the tomatoes, okra, peppers, stakes, tree branches, those super awesome rubber balls you get for like two bucks at WalMart, totally cool. The two plots of corn? Flattened.<br /><br />Because we have to make up weird, highly-unlikely theories to keep our lives here from being soul-killing-ly dull, we're going with aliens. Are you with us? Here are the pics ...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghALqWohI9EaoZ6UyqiXx_5TjlMi4wMQTwLbwtpZ-gIoga8xeTbMPAFd2cKbgsrHwaInFEss2QeaaakGOzQttJ3G2jlcJlSF44T0ZqNZ-mAv5AwXmjyPMZfbHuRmpyKb15mAeJoFgn92A/s1600/P1010037.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505288849198796898" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghALqWohI9EaoZ6UyqiXx_5TjlMi4wMQTwLbwtpZ-gIoga8xeTbMPAFd2cKbgsrHwaInFEss2QeaaakGOzQttJ3G2jlcJlSF44T0ZqNZ-mAv5AwXmjyPMZfbHuRmpyKb15mAeJoFgn92A/s320/P1010037.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRWuudQnm55gxA9iUEA0n6Ptpq8idubKplDQYhRDm2UV4MIbAMSDSivuXUYimnKTjsHBYxE2ahJevSZ-87r1QIwH72dR73EOMdJoRUPCDdFjqjIXlEgeFr-soZ4Y37C2JdmpmrT74LcLg/s1600/P1010043.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505288839062332786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRWuudQnm55gxA9iUEA0n6Ptpq8idubKplDQYhRDm2UV4MIbAMSDSivuXUYimnKTjsHBYxE2ahJevSZ-87r1QIwH72dR73EOMdJoRUPCDdFjqjIXlEgeFr-soZ4Y37C2JdmpmrT74LcLg/s320/P1010043.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHt-5bOkKbTz2v_jGY6WUQDi2lQDpOo8T8ABqETNBtU5aB8k5QzKsrAAWpemSmKDOSCsF39-LT60HzGi3tJL-_a6zAwd3VL_uXn9YcBZ7DFdb3-3w9KxedmDPv4394UjtuDDx6-gguIXE/s1600/P1010036.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505288827233587074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHt-5bOkKbTz2v_jGY6WUQDi2lQDpOo8T8ABqETNBtU5aB8k5QzKsrAAWpemSmKDOSCsF39-LT60HzGi3tJL-_a6zAwd3VL_uXn9YcBZ7DFdb3-3w9KxedmDPv4394UjtuDDx6-gguIXE/s320/P1010036.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><div><div><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-19704837665650093952009-04-01T10:00:00.006-05:002009-04-01T10:26:34.559-05:00Some Things I Have Not Blogged About, Since I Stopped Blogging, Part Deux<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLPdSw7JHJFl_r9csGh9rYOy60yOp4rAG9SsiWybrwOy2sxb0FtE7ewNfMSAgcY4wQ6Z_mk_ZSL_F21_smM7VqWXloQyFKwVwd7Q2g8nAq05D62ZZRTnF1CHdT6i-rxBeBFHGWfMw5NbI/s1600-h/cherry+stollen+edit.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319742546048225154" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 258px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLPdSw7JHJFl_r9csGh9rYOy60yOp4rAG9SsiWybrwOy2sxb0FtE7ewNfMSAgcY4wQ6Z_mk_ZSL_F21_smM7VqWXloQyFKwVwd7Q2g8nAq05D62ZZRTnF1CHdT6i-rxBeBFHGWfMw5NbI/s320/cherry+stollen+edit.jpg" border="0" /></a>Last May I wrote a <a href="http://betweenthelines2.blogspot.com/2008/05/some-things-i-have-not-blogged-about.html">similarly titled post</a>, having slacked off on the blogging. I made a good run of re-blogging (I made that word up, you can use it if you like) for a while, but then, true to form, slacked off again. Well, here I am once more. Mostly due to unemployment. Anyhoo, a new list, just to get you up to speed:<br /><div></div><br /><div><strong>1. Turning 39.</strong> Woo hoo! Uh, yeah. </div><br /><div><strong>2. My new tattoo.</strong> Yeah, I do have one, but what is this, Groundhog Day? These are the first two items on last year's list too. I need to get some new material.</div><br /><div><strong>3. My car being hit.</strong> Okay, so this one is a little different (last year - stolen). I was hit by a school bus though. While I was in the car. And they took off, no doubt figuring it would be near impossible for me to identify the large yellow bus with the giant number "43" on it. Clever. </div><div><br /> </div><div><strong>4. Signing up for Match.com.</strong> Wait, did I just say that out loud??? Crap. Well, now you know. It is truly a blog-worthy experience however, let me tell you. And perhaps sometime I will. And at least it's something different. That's my bold new move for this year -- internet dating. Good lord. Moving on ...</div><br /><div><strong>5. Brett Favre's retirement.</strong> Shit, here we go again. I have nothing -- NOTHING -- to say about this, but yes, another repeat. Brett, you need to get some new material too. I'm just sayin' . . . </div><br /><div><strong>6. Cherry stollen.</strong> I have nothing to say about this either, except it's a delicious baked treat I enjoy. And it's sitting over there on the kitchen counter, staring at me. I may have to do something about that.</div><br /><div><em>and last but not least . . .</em> </div><br /><div><strong>7. A complete and total existential breakdown.</strong> It's no longer an isolated episode. It's a way of life. </div><br /><div><a href="http://betweenthelines2.blogspot.com/2008/05/some-things-i-have-not-blogged-about.html"></a></div>Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-66191746193002665032009-03-14T19:27:00.006-05:002009-03-17T18:28:44.981-05:00My Kid is Way More Talented Than I Am<div>My daughter Johanna has recently decided that she wants to be a photographer and graphic designer, and having reviewed some of her work, I have to concur. So here's some of her stuff -- that's her in a self-portrait up top, and her brother serving as a super cool model in the second photo. The legs shall remain anonymous. Enjoy.<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313205032471668370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN_OndEhQV5EJIhSN35KnOl5vhEU28dzKEQmkKZhnW4jt_WZbdXgvoVJg_B0BhItAWor5KpIL0nLBY2_flrdh7sGYJDsJbJGpS2pnmJ7iJRElQcxo5UxbpOVnEyZpXp9PLls-tz-jwYlI/s200/wire.jpg" border="0" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQPfoJYBaPRb_fkCFVeOpMVxV9-dk8XXp_5cMtToxYlnxF0UCrQUTxf2NSviqMIABcJEVG9wQBI4M5z4FDFvvyoCdYmf_wlGwXgikYblp_-fxEN3hqMOmerEsAb-dCj2SIycbQgcFeR44/s1600-h/american+prince.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313205418146548722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQPfoJYBaPRb_fkCFVeOpMVxV9-dk8XXp_5cMtToxYlnxF0UCrQUTxf2NSviqMIABcJEVG9wQBI4M5z4FDFvvyoCdYmf_wlGwXgikYblp_-fxEN3hqMOmerEsAb-dCj2SIycbQgcFeR44/s200/american+prince.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313206003301304466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUf7JYZIg0RdZks3JrtTj0fTXdSaFlEvKtIS1r8S1izrG1aDe_IwPAfKyg_p826MFaPzdSjtyXaS-Blfl_tm0_2ogwbX_cwyGNXLp0oz6DCjRZQ1mR6h_uCRTxd022vazGR4hc-gpQ-iQ/s200/betrayal.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314302509532125218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 149px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9vhmz91hzzVlctjqyDVovDcerxs7Xqsk-KzyDfy2N_5YyphZBTf366kE1Dml4C1E8auIPbhGeh9FfPyyUeJuNmaiU041TesVEHIx62UKoLBxOVop5PLTACnM9a3YOSMp5gwCaqHJo7Y4/s200/balloon.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div>Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-68724579799337859532008-11-08T08:20:00.009-06:002008-11-08T09:30:26.571-06:00Top Five Reasons I Have Not Posted in a Month (and Other Stuff)When I can think of nothing to say I make up an inane list to fill the space. Exhibit A:<br /><br /><strong>5. My daughter has provided me with zero topics</strong> since the very popular Tokio Hotel post below. Which got plenty of traffic due to the ridiculous number of girls worldwide googling "Tokio Hotel." Which means I should just write those words repeatedly to lure in the readers. Tokio Hotel. Tokio Hotel. Tokio Hotel. See how clever?<br /><br /><strong>4. My boss actually likes me to get my work done,</strong> and I like to end each week by not getting fired.<br /><br /><strong>3. I had hernia surgery.</strong> Okay, okay, so that was just three days ago. But I've been mentally working up to it. Very time-consuming.<br /><br /><strong>2. YouTube.</strong> Dear Tempting, Easily-Accessible, Deliciously-Time-Wasting YouTube: I blame you.<br /><br /><strong>1. I haven't had an original thought since Oct. 1.</strong> Sadly, that might actually be true.<br /><br /><em>And now for the other stuff (assembled at random):</em><br /><br /><strong>~ Fact:</strong> Vicodin and On Demand will take away all your pain. Okay, that might not actually be a fact. It might be a cry for help. But maybe I'm just splitting hairs . . .<br /><br /><strong>~ This is highly unAmerican,</strong> but I just wanted to take the opportunity to note that I hate voting. HATE it. I will not make note here of who I actually voted for, but just suffice it to say that for me, a hopeless fence-sitter, being forced to fill in that little bubble (more on that in a moment) is akin to, ummmm, something <em>really</em> sucky (okay, the Vicodin is still making me a little foggy, sue me). Er, where was I going with this?<br /><br /><strong>~ Whatever, but back to filling in that little bubble</strong> -- when I encountered the classic ballpoint pen/bubble sheet voting method at my local polling site last week, I realized then and there how much freakin' trouble our country is in. Are you serious? A ball point pen? Good lord.<br /><br /><strong>~ Finally, a YouTube video</strong> I have been wasting my time watching, appropriately Tokio Hotel-related and, quite frankly, weirdly delightful -- and you can laugh at me all you want. I don't care. I have my Vicodin . . .<br /><br /><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9VFJASDe4IU&hl=" fs="1" width="425" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always"></embed>Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-56028686334721463612008-10-01T18:53:00.006-05:002008-10-01T19:34:34.343-05:00Tokio Hotel: Evidence That My Daughter Is Now Exerting Undo Influence on My Post Topics<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzmFUvmTzS55XvW5-4CZZTD1osF_49y9eS4ixObCAzMEO_qdVsqgYopP8WfNvyZgkz1dyULBHrtGxP3hYWmzX7OaBI1Nw6dD33Tsc1tgQZxxg3f9NMJBsFO68hKFjZB74bDL2-hHyVOFk/s1600-h/BillKaulitz36.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252341377307556658" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzmFUvmTzS55XvW5-4CZZTD1osF_49y9eS4ixObCAzMEO_qdVsqgYopP8WfNvyZgkz1dyULBHrtGxP3hYWmzX7OaBI1Nw6dD33Tsc1tgQZxxg3f9NMJBsFO68hKFjZB74bDL2-hHyVOFk/s200/BillKaulitz36.jpg" border="0" /></a>My daughter is obsessed with Tokio Hotel. If you don't know who they are, then you clearly do not have a 13-year-old budding rocker chick in your household. HOWEVER, this is your lucky day, as we are about to enlighten you. And to that end, I have agreed to publish this totally candid and completely unscripted interview with said daughter, J, in order to afford her the needed publicity to further her career as a, um, 13-year-old. And in keeping with my new obsession regarding posting YouTube videos here, there will, in fact, be a video, somewhere below. Oh, you can't resist.<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> Why do you like Tokio Hotel?<br /><br /><strong>J:</strong> First of all, I love Bill's hair.<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> Who's Bill?<br /><br /><strong>J:</strong> Bill Kaulitz, the lead singer. Second, I just like their music.<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> What is it about Bill?<br /><br /><strong>J:</strong> I love his hair . . .<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> You already said his hair. Describe his hair.<br /><br /><strong>J:</strong> It's big, and black with some blonde and it's straight out, like everywhere.<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> And you find this to be appealing?<br /><br /><strong>J:</strong> Yes, I think it's amazing.<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> And this Bill, he has his tongue pierced, yes? What about that?<br /><br /><strong>J:</strong> He also has his eyebrow pierced and he wears a lot of makeup. And he has a twin brother, and his name is Tom and he has dreads.<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> Given the choice between dreads and "big hair everywhere"?<br /><br /><strong>J:</strong> Definitely big hair everywhere because I think dreads are gross and dirty.<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> If Bill wanted to borrow your eyeliner, would you let him?<br /><br /><strong>J:</strong> Um, yes.<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> And what color would you give him?<br /><br /><strong>J:</strong> Black and blue, well it's more like a green color, teal, that's what I'm going to call it . . .<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> It's my duty as a parent to inform you that you should never share your eyeliner. You could get an eye infection.<br /><br /><strong>J:</strong> But it's Bill!<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> One last question: If Tokio Hotel were a kind of tree, what kind of tree would they be?<br /><br /><strong>J:</strong> A rainbow tree.<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> What does that mean?<br /><br /><strong>J:</strong> I don't know but I like it.<br /><br />Are you still with me? Good job! Okay here's that video I promised. But it's just of Tokio Hotel, so don't get too excited. You can just leave if you want. I won't be offended . . . HOWEVER, if you'd like a giggle, check out Bill's reaction at, oh, about :49, as they win the VMA for Best New Artist. It's actually quite entertaining . . .<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wbUn433DGEk&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wbUn433DGEk&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><strong>Okay, daughter -- you owe me.</strong>Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-50153400554348720952008-09-27T11:56:00.020-05:002008-09-29T20:21:10.749-05:00The Weekly, Er, Monthly Wrap-Up<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiztVaNdwGdIVFXQs7MP-o9lVhBuCmsCufjHsGFb1QkjCjMDhIlJmp0jY-IWx2FJqghJ3i9QdYu5GZ3xeMoFg9CBtQFMiyLXMoN5lTpTRDU4KdLGkS6dnbvA7sS9Ks1JZamv_wuGRJPhq8/s1600-h/lil+wayne.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250859478524304130" style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; float: right;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiztVaNdwGdIVFXQs7MP-o9lVhBuCmsCufjHsGFb1QkjCjMDhIlJmp0jY-IWx2FJqghJ3i9QdYu5GZ3xeMoFg9CBtQFMiyLXMoN5lTpTRDU4KdLGkS6dnbvA7sS9Ks1JZamv_wuGRJPhq8/s200/lil+wayne.bmp" border="0" /></a>It's been a full flippin' month since I've been on here, and while I vaguely remember having at some point vowed to write for no one but myself, all two of my current readers are threatening to dump me for some other, like, "regularly updated" yet certainly inferior pointless random blog. Sooooo, here I am. Because I kinda crave the attention, quite frankly.<br /><br />This leaves me with no choice but to write what will surely amount to a lame-ass wrap-up, which, you may recall, is merely an <a href="http://betweenthelines2.blogspot.com/2008/08/weekly-wrap-up-tuesday-edition.html">excuse for me to dump out some of the random shit that has collected in my head</a>. Sorry. <em><span style="font-size:85%;">(And why, you ask, is Lil' Wayne hangin' out lookin' all cool up there? You'll just have to read on, my friend. Read on.)</span></em><br /><br /><strong>1. My favorite headline for today:</strong> <a href="http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080927/ap_on_fe_st/prime_number_prize">UCLA Group Discovers Humongous Number</a>. First of all, humongous is the least specific adjective I can think of to describe a number, which leads me to believe this headline was written by a 4th grader. Which is excellent. Second, I was unaware that there were numbers lurking in, oh, the dark recesses of the Amazon jungle, just awaiting <em>discovery</em>. Thirdly, no one informed me that by "discovering" said number, you could win -- get this -- $100,000. One hundred freakin' thousand dollars. Forget solving the energy crisis, I'm huntin' me some numbers! (No, I was not actually trying to solve the energy crisis, but it's the first thing that came to mind. Work with me here).<br /><br />(In case you're too lazy to click the link -- or actually have stuff to do! -- the number they've "found" is a 13-million-digit prime number. Which was actually discovered and verified by on a network of 75 computers running Windows XP. First, if they're not scratching it out on a blackboard I don't think it should count. Second, the article quite glaringly specified the Windows XP part, which also leads me to believe that this is merely a crafty publicity stunt staged by Bill Gates to distract me from those hil-a-rious Mac and PC commercials. <em>"Eat me. I'm a delicious pizza." </em>I rewind to watch that line repeatedly. It amuses me. So eat it Bill Gates. I'm on to you.)<br /><br /><strong>2. I'm kind of delighted by Russell Brand. </strong>Don't worry, I'm fully aware that the things I find endlessly amusing are the things that oh, say 85% of other people in general, and 98.9% of other women, find somewhat (or exceedingly) appalling. I have watched the VMAs four times now just to enjoy him -- oh, and to marvel over how Lil' Wayne keeps his pants on. I am fascinated by this. It's really a freakin' gift. Ninja even. Okay, okay, judge for yourself:<br /><br /><br /><a style="left: 0px ! important; top: 38px ! important;" title="Click here to block this object with Adblock Plus" class="abp-objtab-0008346540023641325 visible ontop" href="http://www.youtube.com/v/CjGvBCv7SIk&hl=en&fs=1"></a><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/CjGvBCv7SIk&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/CjGvBCv7SIk&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><strong>3. Watching a great football catch makes me ridiculously happy.</strong> I have watched this one with a deep and abiding joy, numerous times. Sadly, between this and the VMAs, my free time is now in alarmingly short supply.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zFhUwttHPNY&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zFhUwttHPNY&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><strong>4. Okay, you got me</strong> -- I'm watching Lil' Wayne keep his pants on -- again -- right now. Good lord. Somebody please help me . . .Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-36242163192647397492008-08-24T08:14:00.009-05:002008-08-24T09:03:27.473-05:00If You Don't Like Football, You Probably Will Be Bored With This Post. But Maybe Not.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5sTpKgEiEPA4S-qGe2_BlnbfYOD-gQRZZ5lON-IrVXX3W_agLMfmcpe90U7vHomlygamtlwUwvcRpf6qlS70QVOvgpJXPZhY4QNB2sAncAx_B-6qE6AYrXJZ31O9v_mhw6HeZ2PPjyLU/s1600-h/rams.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238082804630173330" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5sTpKgEiEPA4S-qGe2_BlnbfYOD-gQRZZ5lON-IrVXX3W_agLMfmcpe90U7vHomlygamtlwUwvcRpf6qlS70QVOvgpJXPZhY4QNB2sAncAx_B-6qE6AYrXJZ31O9v_mhw6HeZ2PPjyLU/s320/rams.jpg" border="0" /></a>Last night I got to do what every mom dreams of -- I took my daughter to her first professional football game.<br /><br /><div>Okay, I know that's not what every mom dreams of. I'm not sure I actually ever even dreamed of it. But it <em>was</em> pretty flippin' fun.</div><div><br /></div><div>You have to know my daughter, however; she is a miniature almost-13-year-old version of me. Well, not so miniature, as she is only about 2 inches shorter than I am. And she looks nothing like me (I, of the dark hair and olive complexion; she of the Dutch blond and porcelain skin variety). But she thinks like me, and if you've read any of this blog previously, you'll know that my thinking is not of, oh, the typical girl variety. This is a girl who, after I got a tattoo, told me that when<em> she</em> gets a tattoo, it will be the word "PIMP" in huge letters across her torso. I related this to my friends, who seemed slightly horrified. I thought it was hilarious. See? Not typical.<br /></div><br /><div>Anyhoo, we had two sets of tickets -- my son (he of the <a href="http://betweenthelines2.blogspot.com/2008/08/ham-beard.html">ham beard</a>) and my soon-to-be-ex-husband-with-whom-I-am-still-on-very-good-terms (good lord, is there some more graceful way to say that? Henceforth, he will be STBEHWWIASOVGT. No, that sucks too. Nevermind.) were in the club seats, and my daughter and I took the less luxurious concourse seats, entirely pleased, quite frankly, to be that much closer to the action (12 rows back, in the corner of the endzone. He-ey!).<br /></div><br /><div>We spent much of the time giving each other a running commentary on the people around us. The tie-dyed Rams shirt she deemed "tragic." The chick in the high heels and Ed Hardy t-shirt -(who wears heels to a football game? Poser!). Grossing out over the old dude next to us who only whipped out his binoculars when the cheerleaders were on the field. I'm not kidding. Remember, we were only 12 rows back. And then he followed them with said binoculars as they bounced by us and exited the field. He might actually have been drooling. Seriously. </div><div><br /></div><div>My daughter kept referring to the cheerleaders as strippers, by the way. This made me laugh. Perhaps I am the only one entertained by this.<br /></div><br /><div>The truth is, however, that my daughter and I both actually love football. LOVE it. She is a Florida Gators fan through and through, and I am of a Packers persuasion, but we totally dig the game, and I got to sit there and coach her through everything play by play, while she ACTUALLY PAID ATTENTION. It was sweet. And not in a lame-ass girly way.<br /></div><br /><div>Sadly we made our exit early in the fourth quarter because my 11-year-old son, who was bored save for ogling the cheerleaders, begged us by text message to go. Because he apparently hates football. I'm ordering the DNA test post-haste.<br /></div><br /><div><strong>A SIDE NOTE:</strong> On the way out, while we were waiting to hook up with son and, er, STBEHWWIASOVGT, we stopped and grabbed ourselves a couple of hot dogs -- or, more accurately, what the concession stand has cleverly dubbed -- get this -- "Ram Dogs." Holy shit, that is just wrong on soooo many levels. Oh, St. Louis, I love you.<br /></div><br /><div><em>Oh, in case you were wondering, the Rams actually won, 24-10. But they were playing the Ravens, who played like girls, so I'm not sure that even counts.</em></div>Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-74752222007299602832008-08-22T19:03:00.001-05:002008-08-22T19:05:28.617-05:00Ham Beard<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwnWpRPwSopMtl5ZnsWQKyFdxreM48mrrUQdahipCRlcsgI3bFGulYtS3WLhA35Z_CkqhV4R1F7XqMpHKIMaa3BZvJHFG-sdjtZC3mIFN6muJzWwADBQTCHo8bLbZVgTWnCLaC65nPgGs/s1600-h/ham+beard.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237497129776854082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwnWpRPwSopMtl5ZnsWQKyFdxreM48mrrUQdahipCRlcsgI3bFGulYtS3WLhA35Z_CkqhV4R1F7XqMpHKIMaa3BZvJHFG-sdjtZC3mIFN6muJzWwADBQTCHo8bLbZVgTWnCLaC65nPgGs/s400/ham+beard.JPG" border="0" /></a> I don't think that's kosher . . .<br /><div></div>Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-73798938497273091482008-08-19T06:18:00.003-05:002008-08-19T06:40:28.879-05:00The Weekly Wrap-Up: Tuesday Edition<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiHZUUcqnCNBjHhlPd6ZLd9ZCvVqyrz4STs5qdUnYlNcjQNdOgaStjI7D5E2DRP2AViJJAbmaRj2-yI3B6gmdDHMzdgwJV4ecxYe6OrI7KvZR3KRo_LADVqBEO_AOwb4rZh14rGWvj9xM/s1600-h/alligator+smile.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236192151443514994" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiHZUUcqnCNBjHhlPd6ZLd9ZCvVqyrz4STs5qdUnYlNcjQNdOgaStjI7D5E2DRP2AViJJAbmaRj2-yI3B6gmdDHMzdgwJV4ecxYe6OrI7KvZR3KRo_LADVqBEO_AOwb4rZh14rGWvj9xM/s320/alligator+smile.jpg" border="0" /></a>Most people wouldn't do a weekly wrap up on Tuesday, but since it's been more than a week since I've been here, and since I'm thinking about it right this second, here you go. I'm a pioneer like that . . .<br /><br /><div><div>(This will be, by the way, a random list of stuff in my brain this week that I've been meaning to post about, and have not. You have been warned.)</div><br /><div><strong>1).</strong> <strong>Have you ever been the moderator</strong> for a forum whose spam filters have been turned off? It's gross. Seriously. I feel the urgent need to shower each and every time I run through the comments ranging from porn to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">viagra</span> to broken English bidding me to "Visit great site . . ." (yeah, broken English makes me feel dirty, too.) </div><br /><div>Here's the funniest one I got today, which is actually apologizing for spamming us. So polite! (Note: I've removed the annoying car insurance link lest someone actually click it and get a horrible disfiguring virus . . . )<br /></div><div><em>"Hello, Your site is perfect, sorry for my post ( link was here ) sorry one more time"</em></div><br /><div><strong>2) In the last six weeks or so</strong> I've seen major news coverage of young men (in Florida and Louisiana) who have had their arms removed by alligators while swimming. Now I have the greatest sympathy for anyone who's suffered such a misfortune, especially a child as in the second case. However, have folks not heard the news about alligators? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Urm</span>, here's an update -- alligators are large carnivorous reptiles that lurk in EVERY SINGLE BODY of water in the states mentioned. I have lived in Florida -- if there's a puddle big enough, they're in there. And there are signs posted on EVERY SINGLE BODY of water that say "Alligator Habitat." <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Uhhh</span>, don't swim in the water. Then the alligators won't try to eat you. It's a simple rule . . .<br /></div><div><strong>2a) A side note, related</strong> to the above issue. This article on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">eHow</span> has apparently been written specifically for very very stupid people, on oh so many levels: <a href="http://www.ehow.com/how_2078830_buy-alligators.html?ref=fuel&utm_source=yahoo&utm_medium=ssp&utm_campaign=yssp_art">How to Buy an Alligator</a>.</div><br /><br /><div><strong>3) My kids have been grounded</strong> this week from all things they previously deemed enjoyable (meaning anything that plays music, allows access to electronically transmitted information, shows pretty moving pictures, you get the idea). The result? Turns out they like reading, cooking, and board games, and are actually pleasant little people once you unplug them. Who knew?<br /></div><div><strong>4) There's more, but</strong> I have this funny little job thing I have to get to now. Perhaps there will be a mid-weekly wrap-up in the offing. One can only hope.</div><br /><div><em>You may or may not notice that this image (which is what you find when you search "alligator smiling" FYI) says "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">angie</span>" in the lower left corner -- it was like that when I got it. Weird. Oh, and it came from this site:</em><a href="http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.superheronation.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/04/smile.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.superheronation.com/category/comedy/reptile-humor/&h=327&w=496&sz=338&hl=en&start=1&sig2=bamtp_pCbuWIAUUrEqA_SA&tbnid=Oyty6pBdomx68M:&tbnh=86&tbnw=130&ei=WLCqSMPXKoO4iAHek-X9Dw&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dalligator%2Bsmiling%26gbv%3D2%26hl%3Den"><em> Superhero Nation</em></a><em>)</em></div></div>Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-14089267935559359002008-08-11T18:27:00.006-05:002008-08-12T13:53:05.656-05:00Google Analytics Addiction: Is There a Support Group or Something?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8-Xegvij7EQTd7HhWhzRO82wRL4bJau7VmxuUvNmBHR5FCLpDKzIwKtRmRPlFDOhe836vCUVH7sONGrMs4mlqJs72LJ_ccWzCLt7YWhUqezxSBQDXBZlP-Io9ZELttQikMX6JLNnoyMg/s1600-h/google_analytics_v2_dashboard_sm.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233410704123605314" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8-Xegvij7EQTd7HhWhzRO82wRL4bJau7VmxuUvNmBHR5FCLpDKzIwKtRmRPlFDOhe836vCUVH7sONGrMs4mlqJs72LJ_ccWzCLt7YWhUqezxSBQDXBZlP-Io9ZELttQikMX6JLNnoyMg/s200/google_analytics_v2_dashboard_sm.jpg" border="0" /></a>Two words. Google. Analytics.<br /><br />Okay, before I start, let me be clear about this: I hate statistics. Well, I hate keeping statistics, taking them, attempting to decipher them all by my lonesome. Statistics class in college was my most dreaded, which is why I saved it 'til my very last semester (and then barely scraped by with some stupid project on PDAs. Yeah, Public Displays of Affection. What the heck was I thinking? Hard to say.)<br /><br />Anyhoo, turns out I love statistics as long as someone else puts them together for me. And when they're about something the directly involves me. And when they're presented in multiple fun formats with a bazillion different aspects I can access at the click of the mouse.<br /><br />Which is why I am addicted to Google Analytics.<br /><br />If you don't know what I'm talking about, here's a brief overview: Google Analytics allows you to put a tracking code in the HTML of your blog, and it will then keep track of all your traffic. Or lack thereof (and there's the rub).<br /><br />On days when I have a blog post that's included in the BlogHer network ad picks, I am in Analytics heaven -- I revel in my ability to look at the sources, cities of origin, networks, keywords, even screen resolutions. Right -- I'm a freakin' dork. But I am read! I am noticed! I am popular!<br /><br />And then there are the rest of the days (like 26 out of 30) where I have my REGULAR traffic, which can range from, say, 3 visits to, oh, maybe, 12 (actually 10 but work with me here). And then there are the rest of <em>the rest of</em> the days (like 3 out of 30) where I have NO TRAFFIC AT ALL. On those days, I click on my blog myself, just so later on my traffic line graph doesn't quite dip all the way down to zero.<br /><br />Oh my god I can't believe I just told you that. It's a sad sad little blogging world I have here.<br /><br />And I would be feeling truly pathetic about all of this, were it not for the fact that in my new job with Simply Good Media (home of <a href="http://www.thebudgetfashionista.com/">The Budget Fashionista </a>-- shameless plug! Woo hoo!) I am encouraged -- nay, expected -- to "analyse" the Google Analytics. Now I get <em>paid </em>to check traffic sources and entry paths.<br /><br />The blogging gods have smiled upon me, my friend.<br /><br />Now, if you would just click some more posts around here so I have something on my own Analytics account to affirm my blogging self-worth, that would be great, thanks.<br /><br /><em>P.S. That image is not MY Google Analytics account -- I am far too lazy to grab a screenshot, and quite frankly, this traffic is waaaay better. Also, I had intended to comment on some of the weird place/search keywords I've encountered on Google Analytics, but the dog needs walking, so that will have to wait until Part Deux -- I know, cliffhangers suck.</em>Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-26727578698542620252008-08-06T12:05:00.007-05:002008-08-06T12:25:30.565-05:00Spontaneous Expressions of Early Political Outrage: A One-Act Play<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsOPz5pmZM9yr4Ceho10qpuZ5vAgrGmITw9RX2C_828fcmhvX_fBsMSxv-axOFpCoe1DcvgHe1ImMuNwn4SLpyX3-LH72Ahmz-q7eItsN3EVejnB4XBAvZ0oySExFthB89QN_gjznMcLc/s1600-h/no+gop.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231454763670951874" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsOPz5pmZM9yr4Ceho10qpuZ5vAgrGmITw9RX2C_828fcmhvX_fBsMSxv-axOFpCoe1DcvgHe1ImMuNwn4SLpyX3-LH72Ahmz-q7eItsN3EVejnB4XBAvZ0oySExFthB89QN_gjznMcLc/s200/no+gop.jpg" border="0" /></a><strong>Setting:</strong> My house somewhere smack in the middle of Middle America, specifically in the kitchen and half bath off the kitchen. About 5:10 p.m., CST, thunderstorm brewing ominously in the distance.<br /><div><br /><strong>Players:</strong> Me, Son (age 11), TV Anchor Guy</div><br /><div><strong>Act I:</strong></div><div><br /><em><strong>Me,</strong></em> <em>in the kitchen at the computer, working diligently, with the national news on TV in the background.</em></div><br /><div><em><strong>Son,</strong> in the bathroom, doing what he’s gotta' to do.</em></div><div><br /><em><strong>TV Anchor Guy:</strong></em> "Blah blah blah, John McCain, blah blah blah . . . "</div><div><br /><em><strong>Son</strong> (muffled-yet-impassioned voice from behind the bathroom door):</em> "We don’t need another Republican!"</div><div><br /><em>Son exits bathroom, singing the refrain from<strong> <a href="http://www.jibjab.com/originals/time_for_some_campaignin">Time for Some Campaignin’</a></strong><br /></em><br />And, scene.</div>Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-81739211758804377952008-08-05T17:32:00.004-05:002008-08-05T17:42:16.736-05:00A Quick Post That Proves I Am An Astute Observer of Modern Popular Culture<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGNOkE1-ka8nirVvq1vIRoCtCbcu_4phXN4dpzgGwahqJUVFgkb8R5wxFAg9ySe8WeqJh5XBLjXgxPAdR_CS2zEWrsRnM8clISaIZ_kwUoo7L7rhinMmywMzc7U0DFd4J96DpmkKFosGQ/s1600-h/ChristianBale-Batman.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231166276911853618" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGNOkE1-ka8nirVvq1vIRoCtCbcu_4phXN4dpzgGwahqJUVFgkb8R5wxFAg9ySe8WeqJh5XBLjXgxPAdR_CS2zEWrsRnM8clISaIZ_kwUoo7L7rhinMmywMzc7U0DFd4J96DpmkKFosGQ/s320/ChristianBale-Batman.jpg" border="0" /></a> Christian Bale as the Batman. Great casting; horrible choice on Bale's part in terms of vocal stylings. I wrote about this in my original post on <a href="http://betweenthelines2.blogspot.com/2008/07/pop-culture-nirvana.html">The Dark Knight (and other stuff)</a> but now the Yahoo movie news people are stealing my thunder . . . read their commentary here:<a href="http://movies.yahoo.com/mv/news/ap/20080803/121779624000.html"> Monday Movie Buzz: Bale's Batman Voice Too Much? </a><br /><div></div><br /><div>Nice job catching up, suckas . . . </div>Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-40167724726191713452008-08-04T13:12:00.009-05:002008-08-04T13:27:44.450-05:00My New Gig: Somebody Put Me in Charge of Something<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia22FeJyK7z0gVTPNPcABhYQ7-BZ5AfwLapUTpYNKWw8rMnI6SGg7Gvad7-zmBgW_2a2-bmW1p5qedZ6dP37GOuiJD4dKvKfdLb6BQna5JnIHer_FaKGagzCC0S51o1FLLNQ5dxqmYLGg/s1600-h/thebook.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230729305786249714" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia22FeJyK7z0gVTPNPcABhYQ7-BZ5AfwLapUTpYNKWw8rMnI6SGg7Gvad7-zmBgW_2a2-bmW1p5qedZ6dP37GOuiJD4dKvKfdLb6BQna5JnIHer_FaKGagzCC0S51o1FLLNQ5dxqmYLGg/s320/thebook.gif" border="0" /></a>While as of late this blog has morphed into a weird conglomeration of pointless commentary on various stray pieces of pop culture (which I enjoy, incidentally), with the occasional nod to my odd little family, I feel the need to share an actual piece of career news . . .<br /><div></div><br /><div>This week I begin a full-time position as Community Manager for Simply Good Media, home of The Budget Fashionista, See Jack Shop, and a host of other budget blogs. If you've been to Between the Lines before, you may know I've long been a contributor to <a href="http://www.thebudgetfashionista.com/">The Budget Fashionista</a>, under the tutelage of the Budget Fashionista herself Kathryn Finney (that's her book over there), but on a very part-time basis.<br /></div><br /><div>I won't lie -- I am unbelievably excited to actually have pulled a full-time gig out of this whole freelance writing thing, and love that my new job allows me to do more than write -- meaning I manage editorial content, scheduling, writers, and a slew of special projects. Very cool.</div><br /><div>At any rate, I'm sharing mostly because my own personal blog space may suffer for my new job. Or it may not. With me, you never can tell. Either way, you can always stop by and visit <a href="http://www.thebudgetfashionista.com/">The Budget Fashionista</a> (yup, that was a shameless plug) or <a href="http://www.seejackshop.com/">See Jack Shop </a>(if you are of the male persuasion, or just happen to shop for someone who is), or <a href="http://www.thebudgetcasa.com/">The Budget Casa</a>, <a href="http://www.thebudgetbambino.com/">The Budget Bambino</a>, or <a href="http://www.thebudgetecoist.com/">The Budget Ecoist</a>. Phew! I think my I sprained my linking muscle there . . . </div><div></div><br /><div>I will still continue, also, to write for my friends at the <a href="http://www.ibjonline.com/">Illinois Business Journal</a>, and substitute teach here and there in order to actually have an excuse to leave the house and see real live people. And also because I seem to loooove being overcommitted . . .</div>Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-88877859302704580442008-08-02T10:52:00.006-05:002008-08-02T11:01:21.384-05:00And Then I Thought Better of It<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaAfgLlB_vliAgCEDLiwk_zVNmNdlsmcm9qVKK9ZId-ZRNKityNV41Quze6F7I5MBvcatUgTgfzBUHGsTnDBKUyoCrr-N_S0BHbcoJb2lQr68PgUaWX3_PGxTwGkFsNA5FSZXsWUcC_mY/s1600-h/roxie.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229950103072118178" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaAfgLlB_vliAgCEDLiwk_zVNmNdlsmcm9qVKK9ZId-ZRNKityNV41Quze6F7I5MBvcatUgTgfzBUHGsTnDBKUyoCrr-N_S0BHbcoJb2lQr68PgUaWX3_PGxTwGkFsNA5FSZXsWUcC_mY/s320/roxie.jpg" border="0" /></a>I almost wrote a post about how I was at the gym and my son called me to report that our dog Roxie (that's her over there) had puked -- but then I decided that was too gross, even for me.<br /><div></div><br /><div>I will tell you, however, that the conversation ended like this:</div><br /><div><strong>Son:</strong> "We don't know if she ate it, but the next time we looked, it was just gone." <em>(maniacal 11-year-old-laughter)</em></div><br /><div><strong>Me:</strong> <em>Silence</em></div><br /><div><strong>Son:</strong> "At least she saved us from having to look at it."</div><br /><div></div><div>I'm so very sorry about this post. Please try to erase it from your mind. Except for the dog pic, because you have to admit -- it <em>is </em>pretty flippin' cute . . . </div><div></div>Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-4302754411347408322008-07-31T16:10:00.003-05:002008-07-31T16:13:10.015-05:00Because We Are Hilarious . . .<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTe4Psc0y4QV9EmhFkyro_2wHNpkh4_Yt41OwvgbbTpz95ab84jMqWCCYcZ5hqonxQBpBVTSuiT8jTaKQUAFqK3Ti_PcTwoDuggRTyGJcA8wf4xfKea2GzlpbL6bG_L2KUykQd4AHcmhs/s1600-h/j+in+library.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229288882565237426" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTe4Psc0y4QV9EmhFkyro_2wHNpkh4_Yt41OwvgbbTpz95ab84jMqWCCYcZ5hqonxQBpBVTSuiT8jTaKQUAFqK3Ti_PcTwoDuggRTyGJcA8wf4xfKea2GzlpbL6bG_L2KUykQd4AHcmhs/s320/j+in+library.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>. . . this is what we do at the library. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><em><span style="font-size:85%;">P.S. Still nothing to write about. So sue me.</span></em></div>Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-45095978860627232822008-07-29T15:47:00.005-05:002008-07-30T09:20:40.921-05:00People That Growed Up Good: Anthony Kiedis<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzLo2Mq8Khbj7on9JybVX8xm9TnecWuQqvaNh72FJOdg6jGGw5_Y-6P6jBk_XMU-aw5He9Aw5nSFnXQc4vtSvuw9hSWNI6oXcl9pBo8rk-hPKicMQJZ67lwHaJFgtS_Lbi2WSfsfAdOF8/s1600-h/kiedis_Page000.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228545229787593202" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzLo2Mq8Khbj7on9JybVX8xm9TnecWuQqvaNh72FJOdg6jGGw5_Y-6P6jBk_XMU-aw5He9Aw5nSFnXQc4vtSvuw9hSWNI6oXcl9pBo8rk-hPKicMQJZ67lwHaJFgtS_Lbi2WSfsfAdOF8/s320/kiedis_Page000.jpg" border="0" /></a><em>Age just looks better on some people . . .</em><br /><br />Admittedly, this one may be just me . . .<br /><br />On the left, an early girly-hair and baby-faced Kiedis. On the right? Seems to have manned up. Nice.<br /><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">P.S. This post should indicate to you that yes, I have in fact run out of things to write about for the moment. But it's summer -- cut me some slack.</span></em>Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-15175082807570972402008-07-25T20:04:00.008-05:002008-07-25T20:46:24.990-05:00Pop Culture Nirvana<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXvrExuqpggoz0rE1HpaEdjLtVV4r_MQZhyphenhyphen7shfSC-0y7vOl_HJ0jh6FIigRDfNHa1m5NBmTXXXEh_AzncFqhWHBb9ODOf__soLpa9J-Rl-Dc2hLF0mgS7N3vKfTiYpD85G6xkpU6XTJk/s1600-h/The_Dark_Knight_Poster.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227130351685474354" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXvrExuqpggoz0rE1HpaEdjLtVV4r_MQZhyphenhyphen7shfSC-0y7vOl_HJ0jh6FIigRDfNHa1m5NBmTXXXEh_AzncFqhWHBb9ODOf__soLpa9J-Rl-Dc2hLF0mgS7N3vKfTiYpD85G6xkpU6XTJk/s320/The_Dark_Knight_Poster.jpg" border="0" /></a>I have had a very very good week, pop culturally speaking. You know how I love a list, so here's one of three fun things I did that kept me temporarily sane in the vortex of chaos in which I exist. Or is it a vortex of dulling boredom? I keep forgetting . . . <div><br /><div><strong>1. Foo Fighters concert.</strong> Further confirmed my suspicions that Dave Grohl is a brilliant, brilliant guy. And that the other Foos are pretty brilliant too. And that $10 is just waaaay to much to pay for a watered down Jack and Coke, but I digress . . . </div><div></div><br /><div><strong>2. Jonas Brothers concert.</strong> Okay, before you laugh (you're already laughing, aren't' you?), Avril Lavigne was there too. Er, you're right -- that didn't really make it any better. Well, I took my 12-year-old daughter and her friend. Does that help? How was I to know I'd actually <em>enjoy</em> it? Yeah, that's embarrassing, but I'm trying to own it. Will I buy the Jonas Bros. new album? Nope (well, not for myself at least). But did they put on a pretty freakin' amazing show for three kids aged 15-20? Yup, sure did.<br /></div><br /><div><strong>3. The Dark Knight.</strong> So it sort of pales in comparison to a concert experience, but I happen to loooove going to the movies, and I loved this one in particular. Yes, I took my 11-year-old son (cue the angry boos from legions of protective, nurturing parents across America). Was it a little freaky for him at moments? Yeah, and for me too. Was it dark? Yup. Brooding? Sure. Brilliant? Yeah, a bit -- especially Heath Ledger. Genius. And Christian Bale isn't too shabby either, though I have one note -- his "Batman" voice sounded a <em>whole </em>lot like Jack Nicholson in "A Few Good Men", and not in a good way. I'm just sayin' . . . </div></div>Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-35300216554907439812008-07-23T13:50:00.004-05:002008-07-23T14:04:10.919-05:00Brett Favre: Been Caught Cheatin'<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjY2lU4fOWzLAZPacnI9RMpBkhwlNGOfeYOqj_DV_kbUjnIbJicHdnBbnPoELesF7DkLefX6JawmWukvOMRExHpSPHttdqL5mOVtNEKY6mvSr0DoKQPHAXGzzXKzxRkcOUqjeoAyERGLY/s1600-h/favre.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226286044549397042" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjY2lU4fOWzLAZPacnI9RMpBkhwlNGOfeYOqj_DV_kbUjnIbJicHdnBbnPoELesF7DkLefX6JawmWukvOMRExHpSPHttdqL5mOVtNEKY6mvSr0DoKQPHAXGzzXKzxRkcOUqjeoAyERGLY/s200/favre.jpg" border="0" /></a>Dearest Brett --<br /><br />You know I love ya, but I can't continue to defend you when <em>you</em> continue to make yourself look shifty and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">egomaniacal</span> (<a href="http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/sports/5903188.html">Report: Packers had proof of tampering</a>).<br /><br />I mean, the Vikings? Really? Think, man, think!<br /><br />Best,<br />Angela<br /><br /><em>P.S. Thanks, at least, for the opportunity to use the world "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">egomaniacal</span>". I enjoyed it.</em>Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-63190616520242895722008-07-21T19:19:00.011-05:002008-07-21T19:32:35.326-05:00People That Growed Up Good: Dave Grohl<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJXa7hyphenhyphenNsOVyqR8dE3EdN7ORVzCxjwGN-N9nfVzrlvsgEhDES4gMlBCqLS6ftVIRCScMgPUuH7OH8CAKU0G6sfBbxOfsxN_FPZEdbkJON8HqH6mO9oUOdX9eQp1ohBTvLSl7Vl6801LSQ/s1600-h/dave+grohl+now.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225628934862681602" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJXa7hyphenhyphenNsOVyqR8dE3EdN7ORVzCxjwGN-N9nfVzrlvsgEhDES4gMlBCqLS6ftVIRCScMgPUuH7OH8CAKU0G6sfBbxOfsxN_FPZEdbkJON8HqH6mO9oUOdX9eQp1ohBTvLSl7Vl6801LSQ/s200/dave+grohl+now.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkFa_LfCtEH-3qvmbVxGxqWQ8O1oHwnkFR8KkQ1oGyNOHOJYy-rruuoeMzoAcD71JC81AnGV0iUC5Gba7pkE05X6STwW3jcHXvOPer0YcjhARXeCM8cdc1BhX2wtZVDeExXkWio_BZZoU/s1600-h/dave+grohl+then.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225628753038263730" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkFa_LfCtEH-3qvmbVxGxqWQ8O1oHwnkFR8KkQ1oGyNOHOJYy-rruuoeMzoAcD71JC81AnGV0iUC5Gba7pkE05X6STwW3jcHXvOPer0YcjhARXeCM8cdc1BhX2wtZVDeExXkWio_BZZoU/s200/dave+grohl+then.bmp" border="0" /></a> <em>Age just looks better on some people . . .</em> </div><div></div><div><em></em></div><div><br />Dave Grohl, the early version, left, and now-ish, new and improved. Excellent.</div>Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-87986401212871238772008-07-20T07:58:00.009-05:002008-07-21T19:17:51.524-05:00Completely Meaningless Comparisons: Jonas Brothers vs. The White Stripes<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhvgVu91o6eIsZnxdYkhKme0lb9t2Q1wUK9WDKSfOK_cpJrqrUO3i1-XLug5ZGMPCNCT7cYP-33YTMazwVFReNvJD2C6rMnzjDE9g8bRYRcaLuKoVTjn-3PND6NYgtszoBR48btvV2MJk/s1600-h/album+covers_Page000.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225090131402438722" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="134" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhvgVu91o6eIsZnxdYkhKme0lb9t2Q1wUK9WDKSfOK_cpJrqrUO3i1-XLug5ZGMPCNCT7cYP-33YTMazwVFReNvJD2C6rMnzjDE9g8bRYRcaLuKoVTjn-3PND6NYgtszoBR48btvV2MJk/s320/album+covers_Page000.jpg" width="313" border="0" /></a> <em>Comparative literature, p'shaw! How about wasting my time comparing two things in a fashion that is, in the long run, absolutely meaningless? Okay! My new favorite thing . . .</em><br /><br /><div>This time, in honor of my ridiculous morning song affliction, <strong>Jonas Brothers vs. The White Stripes. </strong>Is it correct to use "vs."? I don't think there will be a winner in any of this (least of all myself, or you for that matter . . . ), but for lack of a better joining . . .uh . . . thingie . . . </div><div><br /></div><div><strong>Point 1: Siblingerrificness</strong></div><div><br /></div><div><em><strong>Jonas Brothers:</strong></em> They're brothers! </div><div><br /><em><strong>The White Stripes:</strong></em> They have claimed to be brother and sister, but are actually former spouses. Very Appalachian.<br /><br /></div><div><strong>Point 2: Commerciality</strong></div><div><br /></div><div><em><strong>Jonas Brothers:</strong></em> They're Disney spawn! </div><div><br /><em><strong>The White Stripes:</strong></em> They look as if they could be Disney characters. If Tim Burton ran Disney.</div><div></div><div><br /><div><strong>Point 3: Funny Yahoo! Search Prompt</strong></div><br /><div><em><strong>Jonas Brothers:</strong></em> If you start to type in "Jonas Brothers", one of the prompts that pops up on the drop down list on Yahoo! search is "Jonas Brothers muscles." Don't ask me why I know this.</div><div><br /><strong><em>The White Stripes:</em></strong> Okay, there wasn't anything funny here -- apparently when searching The White Stripes, it's all business, all the time. I could make something up, but that wouldn't be right. Would it?</div><div><br /></div></div><div><strong>Point 4: Creative Song Titling*</strong></div><div><br /></div><div><em><strong>Jonas Brothers:</strong></em> "That's Just the Way We Roll." Oh wait, that's not actually creative. My bad. It does sort of make me giggle though.</div><div><br /></div><div><em><strong>The White Stripes:</strong></em> "I Fought Piranhas" Now <em>that's </em>creative.</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>* For the record, this word looks really wrong. But it's right. If you pronounce it the way it looks though, it's kinda funny. I'm just sayin'.</em></span> </div><div><br /></div><div><em>P.S. This post didn't take nearly as long as it looks. Really. Because if it did take that long (with the creating of the collage image, Yahoo searching, etc.) that would make me a real loser. Right? Haaa haaa . . .heh . . . heh. . . oh, crap.</em></div>Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-71224238485854362122008-07-18T15:43:00.005-05:002008-07-18T15:53:49.443-05:00Song That Was In My Head When I Woke Up This Morning, Third and Final Edition<a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=KhkJBBTBA4M&feature=related">"Slow Ride" </a>by Foghat.<br /><br />All I have to say to that is . . . WTF?!?<br /><br /><strong>Verging-on-Begging-for-Comments Request:</strong> Tell us* what song was in your head when you woke up this a.m. Or, if it turns out I'm the only person this happens to on a daily basis, you can tell us* that too. Okay, cool, thanks.<br /><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">*By "us" I mean me of course -- but I like to pretend I'm not alone in this thing. Just play along.</span></em>Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-7653908482061231892008-07-17T19:33:00.001-05:002008-07-17T19:40:37.029-05:00Song That Was In My Head When I Woke Up This Morning, Part 2<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8NpFeMdmV15oYyzBd813d4tt_EC8z5QfwVA_D6i-Kht12on2X0k74kbbyV_G6j6ZaufPN80eDRTxyjiHv2I_4glNXDcqZmSMrxqlTqSFKFyuTcTltW3xJxt8NdVX4PNcPw_Hhk7fQPPE/s1600-h/The+White+Stripes.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224147453400430210" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8NpFeMdmV15oYyzBd813d4tt_EC8z5QfwVA_D6i-Kht12on2X0k74kbbyV_G6j6ZaufPN80eDRTxyjiHv2I_4glNXDcqZmSMrxqlTqSFKFyuTcTltW3xJxt8NdVX4PNcPw_Hhk7fQPPE/s200/The+White+Stripes.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=5m1bH7DzH9A">Hello Operator</a> by The White Stripes.<br /><div></div><br /><div>Phew, that's better . . . </div>Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146155020292950896.post-23553154934502025882008-07-16T07:44:00.004-05:002008-07-16T07:53:32.802-05:00Song That Was In My Head When I Woke Up This Morning<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivVRoR_Z4qkIIpo0YaKlLX7dajqC-gFpBYwmPwXMsGK98O2IU89sINlXIEPiZBoHVokaYbigGR9PZUEV7cwpKWNf1a52AqrhsxDPnM20ZUJG7Z0p330ZAHecjTUON4YED2svozkvKK3uo/s1600-h/jonas+brotheres.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223594202019543378" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivVRoR_Z4qkIIpo0YaKlLX7dajqC-gFpBYwmPwXMsGK98O2IU89sINlXIEPiZBoHVokaYbigGR9PZUEV7cwpKWNf1a52AqrhsxDPnM20ZUJG7Z0p330ZAHecjTUON4YED2svozkvKK3uo/s200/jonas+brotheres.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=yNPg2j4B1r4&feature=related">"The Year 3000"</a> by the Jonas Brothers. Good lord.<br /><br />It was a little distressing, but when you have a 12-year-old daughter moments like that are, apparently, unavoidable . . . it was kind of catchy though . . .<br /><br />Good lord.Angela S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06261493096023686522noreply@blogger.com0