What would I do...

What would I do without all my friends and their cool talents? My friend Stephen took these pictures a while back.. I gave some to my parents for Christmas.. they were a big hit. Thanks Stephen!

Cookie Creativity

Here is some highlights from Christmas cookie making, 2008. It was all in all very interesting because the Christmas-y cookie cutters are at my house in Waco. So, We made do.

This is the dreidel series. We live in a Jewish neighborhood, and we pay homage to our neighbors by partaking in Jewish food. Dreidel Christmas cookies aren't really Jewish food, but you get the picture.
On the left is the Christmas dreidel with red and green sprinkles, next is the traditional dreidel, and last is the Baylor dreidel, which I find quite ironic.


Next comes the Scottie Series. Here we have the Hanukkah scottie and the Red-Collar scottie. Both have dragee eyes.











My Mom was making this cookie and she decided not to put sprinkles on him. Concerned, I asked her why she was making an albino scottie. She replied simply, "No, he's a Westie." Genius.









This lovely cookie is probably my favorite. She is, ovbiously, a pink poodle. I used the very technical "post-it note spinkle funnel" to get all the sprinkles just so.

"I'm like, SO over it..."

I'm over immaturity. Well, not all immaturity because we're all immature in our own way. The past few weeks I've noticed some, what I think, pretty common college student behavior that I'm so over.

1. When people are lying they will, most of the time, look up and to the direction opposite of the dominant hand they write with. I'm a stealth eye watcher when I'm suspicious, but sometimes I don't look fast enough or someone is such a good liar they can fool me. Another good indicator is that when a lie is being told, the offender will say no in as many ways as they can think.

For Example:
Girl: OMG you totally like Suzie!
Boy: Are you kidding? No way. I definitely don't. What are you thinking? She's so ....

I'm hip to their tricks! This is applicable to one of the, oh, 3 things I remember about math: Two negatives equals a positive.

Show your vulnerability and admit that you are interested in someone. It's a compliment. It's nothing to be ashamed of.

2. I was having lunch with a friend the other day. I don't really remember what we were talking about, but he shared with me something to the effect of "when it comes to (random topic about the mating dance) guys think blah blah blah." He was so proud of himself. It was as though we were football coaches and he had scouted out a play from our opponents playbook.

I don't care. I am not interested in making a generalization about the male population and changing my behavior based on his, probably obnoxious, preference.

Don't put yourself in a box with the rest of your gender. You're not all the same and that's so wonderful. Besides, it's part of the fun!

The Gentle Art of Domesticity

This was my chill on the couch, digest Thanksgiving dinner and watch the Jon and Kate plus 8 marathon project... monogramming my pillowcases!
For the record, I did not stitch the letters backwards...I took the pictures with Photobooth.

Better Safe Than Sorry

I prefer to keep my blog G rated, but sometimes I spill into PG material. This entry is more PG-13 which I try to aviod entirely. However, because what I am going to write about is excellent, I will try to cleverly disguise the material using only PG words.

Last night, my friend J and I are making an emergency run to the HEB near campus. We gather our items and pick the shortest of the long check-out lines. Fairly quickly, J noticed that the gentleman in front of us, presumably a Baylor student indicated by the logo on his t-shirt, had only one item. This particular item happens to be one that isn't imperative but intelligent to have on hand when participating in a certain stereotypical, two-person, late-night, collegiate weekend activity.

After an initial giggle and expression of sympathetic feelings towards said gentleman for his situation, we deemed his purchase to be of an honorable nature and continued with other grocery line chatter.

For the rest of the story, it is important to understand that the HEB every week or so has what they refer to as "basket items" or selected products available at a reduced price that tempt you to purchase them at the checkout.

This week, the item was a disposable camera.

Picture now, J and my faces after he makes his unique purchase and is then asked by the cashier, "Are you interested in a camera this evening?"

Thankfully, the answer was no.

Remarks about the student, his purchase, and cameras continued into the evening.

Swing It

I realized today that I really don't blog about my interest in swing dancing all that much. It's kind of surprising since it consumes the rest of my life that social work does not.

For the Baylor Swing Dance Society, I serve as the DJ. However lighthearted that may sound, it's a rather daunting task.

I love all things vintage, especially music. I am a proud owner of a record player and I'm slowly adding to my collection of 78s. I love to research artists from the "golden age" and learn about their lives and their music. That being said, I always prefer an older version of a classic over a remake. For the record, I feel that Michael Buble, who is undeniably a talented musician, should get his own material and back away from greats such as Van Morrison, the Beatles, and Sinatra.

There is always some sort of controversy about what music I play. Our biggest struggle with that has been playing enough "old" music and neo-swing. We've tried several different ideas to give both generations of swing music their place, but there's no way to make everyone happy. Regardless, I have a suggestion box for people to tell me what they think about what they hear. I sort of feel like I can either listen to, accept and adapt to criticism gracefully, or stop playing music. The latter isn't an option, and Grace and tact are two of my selective traits. I have not yet mastered responding to criticism appropriately and constructively 100% of the time.

Two instances to note:
The amount of "neo-swing" coming from our speakers has been significantly reduced since the spring semester. (There are several reasons for the change beyond my personal preference. I'd be happy to discuss them with you if you'd like.) The first meeting of the semester, a veteran member approaches me and in a indiscribeably rude tone of voice says, "When are you going to play real swing?" Note that One o'Clock Jump by Benny Goodman was playing at this point. I freaked out. Something to the effect of "THIS IS REAL SWING, THE BIG BAD VOO DOO DADDIES AREN'T REAL SWING!" That was bad. I know it. I haven't seen him since. I was wrong, but I can't help but think things would have been different if that negativity would have hung around.

A few weeks later, another veteran member approaches me while Little Brown Jug, a Glenn Miller tune was playing and asks in a polite way, "Are you going to play any Big Band tonight?" I wanted to say, "GLENN MILLER IS BIG BAND YOU IDIOT." I decided, "Is there a song you would like to hear?" was a better option. I think, great, crisis averted. Next she asks, "Do you have the Chips Ahoy song?" I had no idea what she was talking about. After some consultation with a few other people I realized that a commercial with smiling cookies jumping off of spoon diving boards into glasses of milk was set to "Sing, Sing, Sing" a while back. That song is sometimes called the theme of the 1940's. I was embarassed for her. Ah, blissful ignorance.

I feel that people think I don't care about differing opinions and I'm only serving myself. For the record, I hear everything people say. I don't just sit there and punch buttons. Listen to what the dancers are saying to each other and to me, verbally and non-verbally. I just haven't found a way to satisfy everyone. Every time I turn on my computer and play music for 50 people to dance to it put's a lot of pressure on me. I am responsible for wether or not they have a good time and I know if they don't I'm going to hear about it. When someone is upset, I haven't done my job and I'm in trouble, and no one likes to be in trouble. I want to do what's best for everyone, but I haven't quite figured out what that is.

One song that I play fairly frequently is Ella Fitzgerald's version of "Accentuate the Positive." It's an awesome song for life, but it really helps me refocus when criticism overwhelms me.

You've got to spread joy up to the maximum
Bring gloom down to the minimum
Have faith or pandemonium
Liable to walk upon the scene

You've got to accentuate the positive
Eliminate the negative
Latch on to the affirmative
Don't mess with Mister In-Between

Oh, Kids

The recent, history making, election kept the nation on the edge of its seat for months, and now that it's all over I feel the time is appropriate to talk about all of the election-related insight I received from the kids I look after.

Both of the stories I'm going to share with you occurred in the car. This is only important because you have to realize that I had to keep enough composure to drive during all of this.

Another important background note is that these children's father has a GOP bumper sticker on the back of his car.

One day, A and I were in the car without N, and she asked me who I was going to vote for. I decided she didn't need to know. Don't get me wrong, I am happy to talk about politics with her, but I would rather the discussion come from a subjective perspective rather than telling her which candidate I support. I feel that if I voiced any preference one way or the other, she might not feel comfortable talking to me about opposing opinions. That would put up roadblock to our communication, which is the last thing I want. I chose to respond with "Why do you ask?" She continued by telling me that Mr. Obama wants to take money from us. Curious, I asked for more information. She shared with me that if he is the President, and I get $100 for mowing a lawn, he is going to take away $50. I replied, "Do you know what taxes are?"

A few weeks later, we were going about our daily fun-ities, when A said, "Miss Katie, this song is inappropriate." Sometimes when I'm driving I'm listening to the radio, and sometimes it's just noise. Unfortunately, this time it was just noise. "I Kissed A Girl" by Katy Perry was playing. Once I realized that the content of the song was not appropriate for elementary school children I promptly changed that station. By this time N was in tune with what's going on and pipes up, "What was it about?" I explained to him that it was inappropriate and we weren't going to talk about it. I was not going to discuss sexual experimentation with two children under age 10. A, however, decided to explain to her younger brother about how "some girls don't like to kiss boys, they like to kiss other girls." He remarked, in a simple and matter-of-fact way, "Oh, they must be Liberal."

I was waiting in anticipation for election day, partly because I'm interested in politics and the future of our country, but mostly because I wanted to know how the kids would react, either way. The morning after election day, I called their mother, knowing that they would be upset. Come to find out that N cried when he heard the results.


Oh, Liberals.

He-llow Sailor!

I am ever on the quest for acquiring quality vintage attire for only pocket change. Recently, I hit the jackpot. I've never been so excited about any of my finds... not even the ironing board.

Strolling through Laverty's with my friend K one Saturday, I stumbled upon these sailor pants. I love sailor pants. Upon further inspection I discovered that these were no ordinary sailor pants. No sir, these were Navy issue, WWII sailor pants! They weren't missing any buttons, only faintly smelled of moth balls and looked about my size, so I put them on. 72 million buttons later, they were on! Looking even closer at them I found the name of their owner. G.W. Tabler. This is one small man. K so eloquently put it, "Mr. Tabler must have been drafted from the 4th grade!"

Here they are, in all their glory...

The 72 million buttons (and really cool zipper pocket)...

Sorry for wearing shoes in the house, A.

Calendar Girl

There are a lot of little things that I hear about and think, "Oh that would be great, but it won't happen to me." Recently, I was lucky enough to experience one of those little things.

A few months back my good friend L from Houston invited me to spend the weekend in Austin on Lake Travis with her and a few other friends. At the time, she had said something about knitting and photographs, I wasn't sure, but it all sounded like a blast, so a few weeks later I took a trek to the lake for a relaxing weekend.

When I arrived I got the details of the knitting/photos situation. L, who's two hobbies are knitting and photography, got word of a photo contest held by knitty.com for their 2009 calendar. Long story short.. all of the girls she had invited spent the afternoon in neon inner tubes, pretending to knit. 400+ pictures and some innapropriate fish behavior later, L submitted her photos and hoped for the best.

Needless to say, we won the contest.

This one was the winner:


Check it out! It's a pretty sweet calendar.


Here are some other photos from the weekend.

Dear.... Love, Katie

Dear Burgler,

I hope you stop burgling cars at my apartment complex. Picking on Alicia and I is bad enough.

Thanks, Katie

-----------------------

Dear Public Schools,

TEACH GRAMMAR

Thanks, Katie

-----------------------

Dear Co-Pilot,

I want you to call me. Really bad.

Love, Katie

-----------------------

Dear Swing,

Thanks.

Katie

-----------------------

Dear Michelle,

Thanks for the brownie.

Love,
Katie

-------------------------
Dear Triplets,

Stop the scary caughing. It's freakin' me out.

Ka-tee

----------------------

Dear Mizo,

Thanks for being big and scary.

Katie

-------------------------

Dear A & N,

Stop asking me for soda. You can't have it.

Miss Katie

-------------------------

Dear Clothing Stores,

Your petite pants should not be too long for me. Fix it.

Katie

------------------------

Dear Mark,

Why are you so lazy?

Katie

----------------------

Dear Fun,

I want to have you.

Love,
Katie
-----------------------

Benevolent Phantoms and Moldy Watermelon

I've been in my new abode for two months now and things are moving along in a relatively smooth manner. The furniture tally has risen significantly since I've last blogged on this topic, my bed is amazing, I found some pinup girls for my bathroom, and I've cooked for some of the best friends I could ask for in my new kitchen.

All of this is excellent, however, (there's always a however) there are some parts of the move that haven't been so great.

First, there's my ghost. Its name is Shim. Mr. Shim likes to open and close things: DVD players, doors, blinds etc. I have only found a logical explanation for one of the mysterious occurrences, so I'm sticking to my guns about Mr. Shim until all incidences have been explained. He's not, as Harper Lee best put it, a "malevolent phantom". I think he's as nice as a spirit could be. Some people need alone time to regroup and recharge themselves. I do not. I hate being alone. Sometimes I think that the presence of Mr. Shim might just be God's funny way of telling me I'm not alone. I'm fairly certain that he will leave when Alicia invades in a few weeks.

This new set up is also my first experience with coin laundry. It's pretty barbaric if you ask me. You pack up your laundry, hike to the laundry cave, put in your clothes and pray that the machine won't eat your quarters. The worst outcome is that you spill your laundry all over the ground (check), make it to the cave only to find there are no free washers (check), and once the laundry is finally securely placed in the precious vacant washer.... you're a dollar and twenty five cents poorer then you were when you started... and still have dirty clothes. On the bright side, it's not running up my electric bill every month. Whatever.



Lastly, there are the neighbors. The yelling that I last wrote about has seemed to stop, knock on wood. Most of them are pretty quiet actually, more knocking on wood. I also don't see them very often, I just notice things that change on their porches, the curtains they put up, etc. Last week I was on my way to my car one morning and I noticed someone had put dead flowers (the grocery store variety) on the grass. Not giving it a second thought, I went on my way. A few days later, the flowers had been joined by some moldy watermelon. I was a little upset. TAKE IT TO THE DUMPSTER! What is the deal? There was no new food/other natural substances on the grass until Saturday. Lettuce was on the menu that day. This new addition was not just dumped on the grass like its predecessors. Pieces were very carefully placed all over this particular area of grass. They were evenly distributed among all of the dead spots. I think one of my neighbors has a serious misunderstanding of compost. Either that or fertilizer. I'm not entirely sure.

The produce on my grass sort of reminds me of one of my favorite children's stories... "Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs" in which the weather turns into food and takes over the town... my watermelon and lettuce situation is a little scaled down, but close.



Well, my biology flashcards and Mr. Shim await me. Bon Soir.

-KMW

Harvey

For as long as I can remember, my favorite play has been "Harvey" by Mary Chase. In short, the main character, Elwood, has this immaginary friend, a pooka rabbit, 6 feet tall, whom he calls Harvey.

Yesterday, I met my very first Harvey.

My Harvey is not an imaginary rabbit. He is, what I like to call, the book gustapo. He sits in the library near the sensors and waits for people to steal books so he can chase them down and perhaps risk his life for the libros.

We talk about all the important things... sleep walking, ghosts, left-handedness, and frozen pizza.

I have not yet determined why I have befriended this gentleman, but I know when the reason is revealed to me it will all become clear.



-- KMW

Solid as a Rock

don't we all love Ella?

solid as a rock
I really need you
solid as a rock
my love for you baby
my love is solid as the rock of Gibraltar
so why wont you come back home to me

Wrinkle Free

The quest for not ugly household items continues....

Vintage $10 ironing board before:Another View (note the cute doggie on the couch):





Vintage $10 Ironing board post attack with a hammer and some yellow strawberry fabric:

A close up of the militant strawberries:


Cool, yes?

-Katie

Down by the Bay....

So the jaunt to Grandma's continues...

Yesterday and today I spent some time with N, my cousin, who is 14. Some background.. yes? She's the youngest cousin and the last possible hope of stealing my position as the shortest family member under age 90. I was really hoping.... it didn't happen. After some careful measurement (the back to back test) she has about a half an inch on me, and I have 8 years on her. Such is life.

N and I caused all sorts of noise on our adventures. We walked all over creation looking for pink ribbon in a small town on a Sunday, ate icecream twice (re: last post about the increased consumption of ice cream in the summer), went canoing, recycled cans, attended violin lessons, and (attempted) to take a nap in the park.

A few higlights:

1. Yesterday, I got icecream all over me, and today N was pretty messy, even getting some in her hair.

2. We had such a BALL canoing. We borrowed a canoe from S (an avid reader of my blog) and his roomate. N and I carry this canoe down to the river not far from Grandma's house. While the owners of the canoe stand, watch and laugh. Thanks, guys. We get down to the water and begin to decide the seating arrangements for this expedition. N explains that the person who sits in the back steer. I don't know how to steer a canoe... seriously.. luckily she had half a clue and, although it was interesting, we managed not to run into everything. Not long after, we decided that canoing was an activity that required singing. The song of choice was "Down by the Bay" by Raffi. This was all fine except for that we didn't know all the words. No such thing would stop us. We just made them up. Basically, amazing. Ask if you'd like to know the "remix"


3. Naping = failure. We go to the park, find the right spot for the blanket, dog poop-free, and start to set it down. As I make a final check for anything offensive here comes this snake slithering his way up to me. I scream, she screams, we go inside. FAILURE.

I don't know if you read my blog, chicky, but I had so much fun with you. Can't wait to see you again!

Airplane Friends

Summer, in my opinion, is amazing. I don't know if you feel this way, but I think summer is a really happy time of the year... people are outside, some of us are out of school, tans deepen and the consumption of ice cream increases.. pretty much my favorite time of year (especially the ice cream part).

Along with the icecream, summer also often sends families and friends on trips. This week is vacation week for my parents and I. We're in the booming metroplex (not) of Potsdam, NY. They may not have things like, oh, Target, but you can't beat the scenery. Basically, it's everything that Texas isn't... hilly, green, zero humidity, you know.

Getting to Grandmas is an all day adventure. I wish it were as easy as "over the river and through the woods..." Anyway, after two flights, and a two hour drive, we made it!

One of my favorite things to do while traveling by air, well anytime really, is make new friends. Usually, the people I sit next to on airplanes are sub-par, but every once and a while you hit the jackpot! I mean, why not be friendly... you're going to be sharing germs for two hours.

This trip I made a good airplane friend. I'm not sure what his name is, but that's alright. On one of our flights I was assigned to an isle seat and a lady (another really lovely airplane friend) occupied the window seat. We wondered who (on our flight that was oversold by 10 people) was going to be sitting between us. Well, he showed up. I tried to find his face, but I had to keep looking up... he was REALLY tall. So this giant sits in the middle seat while my shrimpy self, who could curl up in an airplane seat, was livin' the good life on the isle. I watched him sit down, his knees crammed up against the seat in front of him, and I couldn't help but be sympathetic. I asked him if he wanted to switch. He seemed shocked. Seriously, though, I have a conscience, I'm not going to see that poor kid all sardine-like for hours when I would be just as comfortable in the middle as I would on the isle.

Obviously, he took me up on my offer.

He did, however, try to return the favor. At one point during my airplane nap he offered his shoulder in addition to my really uncomfortable airplane pillow. For some unknown reason, it wasn't creepy at all. I didn't take him up on his offer... i was able to sleep fine without.

Toasty!

I'm settling into my new place nicely. The couch comes from the consignment store tomorrow, and on the agenda for tonight is arranging my awkward make-shift pantry.

Here are some likes and dislikes about the new place:

Likes..
MUCH CHEAPER!
I have my own, formerly junky, revamped furniture (pictures at some point)
I love Alicia Fuhrman
We might get the style network
It's close enough to school that I don't have to buy a parking sticker/can bike to the grocery store
Happy can live with me
No parking permits/limited visitor parking so people can come over and have a place to park
Did I mention I love Alicia?

Dislikes...
I killed a cockroach in my BATHTUB last night
My neighbors fight really loudly (nothing new, however)
Coin laundry
Ugly 70's kitchen cabinets
No pantry

Now to the point... i didn't own a toaster, and i wasn't going to spend money on an ugly toaster. I refuse to buy something ugly that I will have to look at every morning when I eat breakfast. The only halfway decent ones were 10 fillion million dollars, so I decided I would be toasting in my oven until THE toaster was revealed to me. Today, I found it. The coolest toaster on the planet. I found it on clearance at Tuesday Morning. It was 15 buckaroos. Not bad for the coolest toaster in the world. Here is a picture of said toaster. MSRP $95.Isn't she beautiful?

-- KMW

Procrastinating

So, It's been a while... Here's an update:

I finished out the hardest semester of my life with a 3.6. Some of the grades that were posted, I doubt there is mathematical proof for. I'm going to say that my teachers are honest, and gave me the grade I deserve. It's probably true. I tend to underestimate myself sometimes.

I took my last final last Saturday and on Thursday I started 15 days of British Literature torture. College administration cleverly lable such torture as a "minimester". The name is so deceiving. When I think of the prefix "mini" I think of things like ... mini-muffins and travel size bottles of foo foo juice. Most every other "mini" item makes me pretty happy. I'll spend the next 2 weeks of my life reading all the time. I made the executive decision today to read sparknotes whenever possible. It sucks, but only for 15 days.

I spent Friday afternoon with the triplets. They're more amazing by the day. They're starting to say things on their own, instead of parroting everything that you say. For instance... we were sitting outside eating apples and drinking juice after our (yes, i napped too) nap. Their black lab (the coolest dog on the planet), Mizo, was supervising. We were talking about how Mizo doesn't eat apples, because he's a dog. I asked them, "Does ViVi eat apples.. does ZoZo eat apples.. does Sa eat apples... does Mizo eat apples" etc. We had established that the kids eat apples and the dogs don't. Then, Olivia says " TiTi (baby code for Katie) does apples eat?" Apparently we forgot to establish wether or not I eat apples too. My bad. She also told me "TiTi funny!" when I was pretending to be a queen with a bowl on my head. I cannot describe the insurmountable joy that those two words brought me.

Here's us a little while ago ... having some fun (from L: S,Z, & O)In other news. The swing society had elections. I'm the new secretary. Don't know how that happened. As Mark would say, "Katie, Katie, Katie". Yeah. I dunno. It's going to be great though. We have an excellent president. This year will include lots of dances, lessons, workshops, and some charity stuff. So if you're reading this and you're in swing. Watch out for some fun!

Also, I'm moving on the 28th. If anyone would like to lend some muscles. Hit me up.

Happy Blogging
- TackyAnnie

Little Marilyns

I excavated this picture online the other day. Aren't they excellent?







-- Tacky Annie

Shim Sham Shimmy!

To some of the Baylor swing dancers who are utterly uncultured, closed minded, and just plain bad...

Next Friday, when I meet Frankie Manning, I'm going to tell him about the "He-man shim sham haters club" forming in Waco. We'll see what he can do.





-- Tacky Annie

Facelift and Childrearing

How do you like the facelift?

Recently, I've been taking care of some new children. They're not the triplets, but they're growing on me. The younger, a boy, N is 6 and his older sister A is 9. They are a pile of fun. I really enjoy spending time with them. We've shared some pretty priceless moments in the last few weeks, as well as some that were really eye opening for me.

Do you want the funny ones or the touching ones first? I'll write the funny one's first and if you want the insightful/rant ones before, just scroll down.

A typical day with these two goes something like this... I pick them up from school, we get a snack either out or at home, then (except for Fridays) we do homework and fart around until mom and dad get home. One particular day we're sitting at TCBY eating our treats and A turns to me and says, "Miss Katie.. did you know that my mom is seeing .... *pause, I'm flipping out at this moment,as she fumbles over her words, that this girl is going to tell me her mother is having an afair, what was I going to do!?*She continued.." I mean that my mom.... uses other babysitters?" I answered her with a simple yes and after a short pause added, "Did you know... that I babysit other children?" She was in utter shock. By this time N at caught on to the conversation and was equally apalled. I quickly changed the subject before she asked me who was my favorite or confessed to me that I was not her favorite babysitter.

Not long after the incident described above, which was officially the first akward moment we had, A asked me an equally akward question. Before, I'll give some background. Their Mother is an alumna of Baylor and of the sorority, Kappa Kappa Gamma. I just don't get sororities. Lots of girls make friendships that last a lifetime in them, but they're just not for me. Knowing how I feel about sororities, you can immagine how I felt when A asked me "Miss Katie, are you in Kappa?" I proceeded to throw up a little just thinking that she would put me in such a catagory( kidding), but after I thought about it a little I decided it was a compliment, because she loves her mother, who is a Kappa. I asker her the reason for her inquiry and she simply replied, "All my babysitters are Kappas." Figures.

These kids , although they are wonderful, have made me realize how differently they are growing up than I did. A few instances have made me aware of the differences...

First, I had knowticed that N talks alot about guns, and the game of choice to play with his friends was "war", but one day something he said made me realize how much he knew. One important N fact is that he talks.. all the time. I really enjoy what he has to say. I like to listen to what he thinks. It interests me how his little cabeza is interpreting the world. One day he was talking about his toy guns. They look totally fake, which is good, and he loves them. I thought having a toy rifle and pretending to hunt or play "war" was alright until he told me what he knew about guns. He was able to tell me specific types of guns, not only rifles, but pistols too, and what each one was good for, and how they were unique from eachother. Hearing him say things like, " I use my 20 to shoot the enemy"gave me chills. I wasn't comfortable with a 6 year old knowing this much about weapons. The next time I saw him he asked if I would play war with him. I declined and explained that I dont like to play games like that and I took the opportunity to tell him that talking about guns and violence was something I wasn't comfortable with. He was very gracious and hasn't brought it up since. Two things come to my mind. 1. Where did he learn all of this specific weapon information, and 2. Why does he play games like that. I understand that all families are different, but I'm very blessed to have grown up in one that taught me that guns were for police officers, the army, and other grown ups, they are not toys, and they are not funny.

Another incident that really made me thankful for how I grew up involved food. The kid's grandfather has a business, at which their mother and father work. The grandfather has a vending machine in the office, where the products are sold to the employees at cost. An excellent idea if you ask me. A has this incredible skill for knowing when she is the princess, which is most of the time. She owns it, too. Last week, we were sitting in the office waiting for her mom to get out of a meeting when she asked if she could have something from the vending machine. I told her that I didn't have any change (total lie). She responded promptly with, "I know who has the key", and trotted off. I straggled after her to find she had interrupted an employee from her work and, since she's the bosses grandaughter, the employee got up to open the machine. Okay, nothing wrong with using what power you've got when you're 9, but what happened next totally floored me. Not only did she get a Dr Pepper and pretzles, she also got a Snickers and Starburts. I might also add that I talked her out of several other choices. What a piggy! As I watched in shock at how greedy she was being I asked her if she thought she had enough and reminded her that there would be other opportunities to intercept free treats from the employee who sucks up to the boss's grandaughter and the said vending maching. I talked her into only having the drink and one candybar, and saving the rest for later.
Later, I consulted with my mother about my 9 year old ways, and realized several things: People tell me I'm pretty selfless for an only child, whatever that means. I'm very thankful that somewhere along the way I learned that when someone is being generous, to accept a fair amount to be polite(like a can of soda) and not abuse the privelage (like taking one of everything). More than that I'm glad I rairly ever had a candybar, much less more than one. I think I can attribute that to my higher than average amount of self control when it comes to eating sweets. In the long run, I think it will keep me healthier longer.

The differences between families fascinates me. Little choices our parents made when we were kids really affect us now.

That being said.. I think I'm getting involved in the right profession.

Shots!

I has my last Gardasil shot yesterday. I'm pretty sure it made me sick.

Flu symptoms or HPV? You decide.

The 'Ole College Try

I'm so busy with school right now. Three tests and a project last week, two papers and an interview this week.

This is me... in the li-berry... looking for references.

If only my hair really looked that good!

I know I act like a Granny, but now ....

I feel like a granny!

I pulled a muscle the other day dancing. You think, " Oh Katie stop complaining it's just a pulled muscle, no big deal!" So there are worse things that could have happened, but it still hurts.

I know that in 50 years I will look alot like the lovely lady on the left. Today, I really feel like her.

All I Want is a Lavender Coffin

Please make my dreams come true..

All I want is a lavender coffin
with white gardenias all around
swing band playin' the funeral march
and they lower me into the holy ground





I love my "grandpa" music

Buddy's Big Band February Dance

No Time for Food

I'm so busy this week I haven't had time to go to the grocery store. Oh of only I could go shopping looking like this lovely dilly. She's wearing heals. I'm lucky if I make it with shoes at all!
(I'm totally kidding. I wear shoes to HEB)

Windy Days

this is how i felt today - minus the skirt. it was so windy. i was wandering around like i was inebriated. walking a straight line was out of the question. i would get my balance right, and then... woosh!
When the wind was coming at me from the left or the right i would lean and walk the opposite direction. If it was coming at me head on it was hard to walk because of the resistance. However, if the wind was coming from behind me it was like a little push. I could walk so much faster - keep up with the people with long legs.

Consequently... this is what my hair looks like

Give it a Shot

I'm going to give blogging a shot. Keep your fingers crossed.