tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4481529506678964302024-03-19T00:27:33.351-07:00PandaPantzAlyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06812830109269424808noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448152950667896430.post-21365200331258369272013-06-21T09:48:00.001-07:002013-06-21T09:48:16.717-07:00Life Lessons with Sirius. <br />
Three months ago, Sam and I brought this cute little guy home from the local animal shelter home. Aside from being generally great and entertaining, Sirius has also taught us a few things.<br />
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1)<b> A comfortable bed makes all the difference. </b><br />
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Seriously (no pun intended), have you ever seen a more comfortable dog? We took him from the shelter, where he just had concrete and a towel to sleep on for the most part, and brought him home to this kingly dog bed. He basically just slept for two days.</div>
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2) <b>But never settle, if an upgrade is available. </b></div>
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No matter how much he loves his dog bed, he loves my pillows and memory foam mattress more. </div>
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3) <b>Spend time just doing what you love.</b></div>
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For Sirius, it's hanging out in the sun room on his ottoman (aka. dog throne) watching the birds and squirrels in our yard. <br />
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<br />4) <b>And remember, always plan adequate snuggle time into your day.</b><br />
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It's the most important. </div>
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<br />Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06812830109269424808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448152950667896430.post-30131091061735188142013-03-04T08:36:00.000-08:002013-03-04T08:48:51.405-08:00Things I Like About Not-Quite-Spring.If you have ever spent more than an hour with me and/or you have ever read this blog, you probably know that I like categories, and <b>I really, really like lists.</b> Readings lists, to do lists, lists of synonyms, lists of favorites, lists of my favorite things to do, etc. I could go on.<br />
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Anyway, today, I was going to make a list about the many, many things I love about spring, since it's almost here. But <b>since it is still cold and gross outside,</b> I thought pining for spring would be a little depressing. Also, as a person notorious for looking for clues in the past and planning elaborate things for my future, <b>I should probably spend a little time just appreciating today,</b> including the current weather.<br />
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It's a little tricky, because it isn't bitterly cold anymore (not that it really ever was in Carbondale), but it isn't exactly pleasant either. It's windy, and it rains about once a day, and I feel like I haven't seen the sun in weeks. But this is a list of the things I like about the current weather situation, so I'll stop complaining and get to it already.<br />
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<b>Things I Like About Not-Quite-Spring </b><br />
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1. I can still wear all of my cozy winter scarves. This is a big deal because I have a very cozy blue infinity scarf that I probably wear three times a week because I love it so much. Actually, this is a picture of me wearing it this morning because my house is cold, and we never turn on the heat.<br />
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<i>(That's my "I-would-look-more-excited-but-my-house-is-cold-and-it's-morning" face. Right, not complaining. Anyway.)</i><br />
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2. No allergies yet! Hurray! I have terrible seasonal allergies triggered by all kinds of pretty stuff that grows during the spring. So, no flowers yet, but at least I can still breathe!<br />
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3. It's chilly enough that I can wrap up in a big cozy blanket anytime of day for no reason and just contemplate life. I can contemplate life anytime of course, but the cozy blanket is definitely overkill during the summer.<br />
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4. Still cold enough for hot chocolate, which is officially out-of-date when the song birds start showing up again.<br />
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5. Boots of all kinds are fair game, but it's pleasant enough outside that I can wear my nice boots without fear of ruining them.<br />
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6. It's still chilly and grayish, but it's finally March and spring is right around the corner!!!!<br />
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Alright, that's the best I can do. Maybe it's not the best time of year, but I suppose it's not the worst. I even saw the sun for a little bit today! Now if it would just <b>warm up enough so I can wear a sun dress....</b><br />
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Til next time, kids.Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06812830109269424808noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448152950667896430.post-24763295416469011512013-02-25T08:50:00.002-08:002013-03-04T08:50:06.922-08:00Little Successes.A few weeks ago, I wrote a blog post about all the things I want to do on a regular basis. As usual, <b>the moment I made all these grand plans,</b> <b>life changed up a whole bunch of things,</b> and my unregulated free time was the first thing to go. <b>But, I am a stubborn woman</b>, and I am proud to report that I have pretty much stuck to my list. My house has been surprisingly clean (by our standards anyway), I've painted my nails religiously, I've been super crafty in the past few weeks, and Rjjr gets exercise everyday!<br />
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Sure, I've dropped the ball on a thing or two, but <b>I don't worry about it too much.</b> Still not great at the dishes, and my husband is way more into knitting than I am. How could that be, you might ask? <b>After all that huffing and puffing about being productive and getting stuff done and not making resolutions you won't keep, now I don't even care?!</b> Well, that's not quite it. I certainly do care. It's just that my list is full of things that I like to do, my hobbies, if you will. If I worry too much about checking them off a list, it sucks the fun out of everything.<br />
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The logic behind "<b>my list of things I started doing last year and would like to continue in 2013," </b>was that I would make time to do all of the things I enjoy, regardless of what life throws at me. Which was good (er, maybe, unintentional) planning on my part! So, if I feel like writing five letters one week, and drawing a lot of things the next, I consider that to be a success.<b> I took time off of worrying about work and school and finances to do focus on my list, and I can say with confidence that I have enjoyed it. </b><br />
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So, without further ado, here are a few of my "list" successes so far:<br />
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I made <b>lots of cards!</b> And I've even sent a couple of them so far!<br />
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I made <b>this necklace! </b>But I did not put it on Etsy, because I like it, and you can't have it. (Just kidding. But maybe not.) </div>
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I've been practicing my <b>mad typography skillz,</b> yo. </div>
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We even got some <b>new pets!!</b><br />
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And, perhaps most impressively, this is the view of my kitchen, at 11:06 this morning. Please take your time noting<b> how tidy and dirty-dish free it is.</b><br />
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Also, <b>I wrote this blog post this morning.</b> Bam. Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06812830109269424808noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448152950667896430.post-46536744663471654292013-01-17T09:54:00.001-08:002013-03-04T08:50:37.120-08:00Alyssa's Continued Attempt To Have An Orderly Life.Let me preface this post by noting that <b>I think New Year's resolutions are dumb</b>. People make them, promising themselves that they are going to keep them for this month, this year, or the rest of their lives. But we all know, in the back of their minds, somethings says "But it's okay if you don't, because none of your friends will keep theirs either."<br />
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And it's true. Think of one person you know who has kept all their New Year's resolutions for a whole year. Maybe you can, maybe you can't. But can you think of ten people who didn't keep their resolutions for even a month? I can.<br />
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The idea is flawed. You can't change everything about your life and your habits and start a whole new life just because it's January 1st. But you can make changes in your life gradually, for the better. So this is <b>my list of things I started doing last year and would like to continue in 2013.</b> Granted, the knitting I only started on December 29th, but it's still 2012!<br />
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1) Repaint my nails before they get chipped every week.<br />
2) Draw one new thing every week.<br />
3) Craft one new thing every week.<br />
4) Knit one new thing every week.<br />
5) Add two new items to Etsy every week. <br />
6) Do the breakfast dishes before noon every day.<br />
7) Tidy the house once a day.<br />
8) Play with Rjjr every day. <br />
9) Write letters every three months.<br />
10) Study my class notes after every session.<br />
11) Write on my blog once a week. <br />
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This might see like a silly list. After all, most people do all of their dishes immediately, and some of these things seem pretty trivial. <b>But as for the dishes, I just really, really hate doing them, so this is really the best you're going to get from me. </b><br />
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The thing is, I have an irregular work schedule, and I only have four hours of class total each week, and being a generally unorganized person,<b> I really struggle to be productive if I have large chunks of time to myself, but no discernible goals.</b> So having a list to check off is the best method for me to actually organize my free time. And aside from the dish thing, I've done pretty well so far. (Three weeks in January and three blog posts! Woo, I'm a champ!)<br />
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So here it is, after school, work, and general bill paying, this is what I will continue to get done regularly! Anyway, it has been decreed. You all saw it. Guess I'm stuck with it now. Just don't ask me about the dishes...Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06812830109269424808noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448152950667896430.post-22812359533024641762013-01-07T11:33:00.004-08:002013-03-04T08:51:04.603-08:00Say hello, Rjjr!As some of you may know, it's my life ambition to have a big, cuddly dog or three in my life at some point. However, I live in a little duplex that does not allow any such pets, and I probably couldn't afford the dog food, even if our landlord allowed them. So instead, we got Rjjr, a lovely little black and white rat. Actually, he's sitting on my lap right now, happily chewing a button on my sweater. He's no dog, but he's fairly cuddly and requires way less maintenance, except daily exercise. <br />
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Exercise, you ask? Doesn't he have a wheel? Yes, he does. He also has a
clear plastic exercise ball. Unfortunately, he's pretty dumb even as far
as rodents go, so he doesn't know how to use either device. (We tried
to teach him a few times. No luck so far.) So I have to take him out and let him
run around for awhile everyday. Good thing he's lovable.<br />
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He was getting a little antsy today, so I let the little guy take a few pictures. <br />
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What a photogenic rat.<br />
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Also, this post marks the second week day in a row in which I have showered, cleaned, replied to my emails, taken pictures, and written something. Now if I can only finish my headband before I go to work!<br />
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Eh, well see. We're winners anyway! Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06812830109269424808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448152950667896430.post-76814523609104081092013-01-04T07:45:00.000-08:002013-03-04T08:51:46.268-08:00Chilly mornings go great with coffee, but not with productivity.Well, since the holiday season got start, I feel like I've been running everywhere. Running to work, running home. Running to the post office, to the store, to the car repair shop. Running around to pack, and to clean. And then running to Ohio and New Jersey, and running around on my computer to get stuff done that I forgot before I left. <br />
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Of course, all of that running is metaphorical, <b>because I never actually run unless it is to get the mail from my mailbox when it's cold outside. </b><br />
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But today, I'm back in Carbondale, I'm registered for school finally, the car is fixed, the stuff is put away, my part-time job is back to being part-time again, and <b>I still love run-on sentences and ridiculous rambling.</b> Also it's quite cold outside, so I'm putting off getting the mail altogether right now. <br />
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But on cold mornings like today, I can't think of anything I find more comforting than a good cup of coffee. And by good, I mean Walmart brand Columbian coffee with a splash of Peppermint Mocha Coffeemate. Seriously, what could be better?!<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> MMMMMmmmmm. Warm and comforting.</span></div>
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Speaking of productivity, before I started writing today, I was looking around at all these other beautifully designed blogs that get updated regularly by super attractive moms with small children. And I wondered, "HOW?!"<b>Not only do they take regular, well edited pictures of their beautiful children and their beautiful lives and their beautiful clothes and then write about it, but they also apparently have time to craft, run errands, take care of their kids, and do their hair every morning </b>(because we all know nobody looks that good naturally in the morning).<br />
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So, I thought to myself, if they can do that, certainly I can. <b>After all, I only have a rat, a lizard, and a husband with a regular job.</b> Surely, I can at least manage to shower, keep my desk clean, make something pretty, go to work, and take a few pictures and write a paragraph or two every day.<br />
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And the answer is probably no. <b>I don't know what sort of magical powers they have that let them live way more productive lives than me, but I haven't seen the top of my desk in weeks or the floor in my back room.</b> Also, I occasionally have the attention span of a goldfish which makes it pretty difficult to get into well-established habits. (And if I'm going to get into regular habits, doing dishes after every meal will be the first one I cultivate.)<br />
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But while I'm still here, this is a picture of what I ate for breakfast. (Guess I haven't caught on to Instagram yet.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEoCZCvVBLK2Xk5jmiwV-3KQneQcUbMflM5u5CXeOWzbJWAbSYLrQIXQhd4dLTiXnD3661JISBh14O-VOes39c3zrco12QuEBV4XTJT-PLhbTbdm4DvnsSB6F-7C-oDXzOOTYjJ9sF5yv3/s1600/raspandban.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEoCZCvVBLK2Xk5jmiwV-3KQneQcUbMflM5u5CXeOWzbJWAbSYLrQIXQhd4dLTiXnD3661JISBh14O-VOes39c3zrco12QuEBV4XTJT-PLhbTbdm4DvnsSB6F-7C-oDXzOOTYjJ9sF5yv3/s1600/raspandban.jpg" /></a></div>
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Great! Now all I have left to do for today is shower, clean, and make the order I need to mail before work this afternoon!<br />
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Hah! Good luck.<br />
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<br />Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06812830109269424808noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448152950667896430.post-82598272806418879752012-11-12T13:51:00.006-08:002012-11-12T13:52:45.053-08:00Been Gone So Long. Not that I have a regular posting schedule to begin with, but I've definitely missed writing for the last few weeks. It's been crazy, taking care of Mom in Ohio, funeral in Kansas, taking care of my house after being gone ten days, working, sleeping, another craft fair, and a visitor from Louisville. So finally, here I am, sitting in front of my computer, recapping my last three weeks.<br />
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Unfortunately, I have nothing else for you today, except that I'm hoping this will get me back into a habit of blogging.<br />
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Also: CURRENT PROJECT!! (capital letters make things seem more important)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIBHmFSVQNlK72cKu8pRV4f01NM2DnWDyx96CsPaPcZSPdz2dbvy29KlUsjzsEiPVMVSduWpFkN5H8MQcTm9ZadwJmVzPfWWjgHo7t7L67X71kRn3lPupxVCTxCM2vw6z63YDnHtrRWc4X/s1600/2012-11-12_15-47-02_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIBHmFSVQNlK72cKu8pRV4f01NM2DnWDyx96CsPaPcZSPdz2dbvy29KlUsjzsEiPVMVSduWpFkN5H8MQcTm9ZadwJmVzPfWWjgHo7t7L67X71kRn3lPupxVCTxCM2vw6z63YDnHtrRWc4X/s640/2012-11-12_15-47-02_500.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Behold the workspace.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Closeup!</i></span></div>
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Later Kids!Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06812830109269424808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448152950667896430.post-88425267244081485292012-10-20T13:34:00.005-07:002012-10-20T13:37:19.535-07:00Handmade Christmas: First TryTo tag on to my last post, I signed up for another craft show. (Indoor, this time. See? I'm learning!) Anyway, it's one of those <b>XMAS XTRAVANGZA</b> type shows, so to get myself in the spirit, and <b>also just because I love Christmas,</b> I'm about to write a string of blog entries about Handmade Christmas.<br />
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You might think, "Oh, this girl just wants to make all this stuff to sell it at her next show." You would be wrong. It's also because <b>I'm super poor and cannot afford to buy Christmas decorations</b>, so I'm stuck making all of my own. Fortunately, I am a well-educated <b>liberal arts Art major</b>, so I have the skills. (Yeah, take that "practical" majors.) <br />
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This week, my goal was <b>to figure out how to make clay Christmas tree
ornaments.</b> As it turns out, it wasn't that hard. The mosaic pieces were a
little tricky on the first one, but the balls retained their shape quite
well. Plus, these clay ornaments are super hard to break! Which is even better, because the worst thing about glass Christmas ornaments is the whole shatter-when-they-drop-things. <b>Nothing like having to pick up and vacuum 5 million tiny glass shards with sharp, stabby edges.</b> Even if you managed to break one, these clay balls will not threaten to injure you. Yay!<br />
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A couple hours, and a little trial and
error and Voila! <b>My first tree ornaments!</b> Two inches in diameter, hard to break, and they look good on my tiny Christmas tree!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS2C1WNYEfvOxbiLcQU7q-8E9pmKwuluo8o6SyCpstYeZSInMwnhUicBsXYJf4cqYti6RYSyE6OgEBs4wx2fmn9xvu3T4mYFkCjolRWSaCut0z62HW1GIQGtNhMVvUPV68pvKMETDYC604/s1600/2012-10-19_13-34-36_764.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS2C1WNYEfvOxbiLcQU7q-8E9pmKwuluo8o6SyCpstYeZSInMwnhUicBsXYJf4cqYti6RYSyE6OgEBs4wx2fmn9xvu3T4mYFkCjolRWSaCut0z62HW1GIQGtNhMVvUPV68pvKMETDYC604/s400/2012-10-19_13-34-36_764.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Look at us! We're all fancy with our gold centers and lace background!</span></div>
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So the first set of three went off without a hitch, but <b>my tiny Christmas tree was going to be pretty bare if I just stopped with the red ones.</b> So I made gold ones, at about half the size of the first set. They were way easier, being smaller, since the mosaic surface area was a lot less. And I thought the gold and green was pretty together :)<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Look here, we have a regal color pallette. We can't be bothered with your humdrum "holiday" musings.</span></div>
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So finally, I have enough ornaments made to decorate half of my 24 inch Christmas tree! Good thing I'm starting now. Anyway, <b>here's my little tree, in all of his half-decorated glory.</b> At least I'm doing better than Charlie Brown!<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Party on the Christmas tree!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> I ran out of funny captions for this guy...</span></div>
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Well, that's all for now. Tune in next time for another exciting edition of <b>Whatever I Feel Like Writing! </b>Just kidding, I really will keep writing about handmade Christmas stuff.<b><br /></b></div>
<br />Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06812830109269424808noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448152950667896430.post-62168259880555894862012-10-18T16:21:00.003-07:002012-10-18T16:30:51.073-07:00Weekend of Fun #1: Carbondale Street FairHello, loyal readers (all three of you)!<br />
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I was hoping to get around to writing this sooner, but it's been pretty busy around here lately. I started work, had a couple eventful weekends in a row, and got another pet (RJ jr, but more on that later). But alas, Sam has to go to a dinner with his advisor, <b>so now it's just me, my computer, and a glass of my favorite cheap moscato. </b>What else is a girl to do except blog?<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Seriously, it's Barefoot Moscato. Sorry to all the wino's who are rolling their eyes right now.</span></div>
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So to catch up on all of the goings-on, two weeks ago, I had the pleasure of selling at <b>my first craft fair ever!</b> I spent whole week doing nothing but making mosaics from the show. Making earrings, necklaces, window mosaics, and business cards <b>all morning, day, and evening!</b> Sam was ready for it to be all over. My house fell into disarray; I stopped showering and sleeping; I started talking to myself and even making up alternate realities and storylines for all of my pieces!! <b>Okay, that last sentence was a lie, but my house did get really messy.</b><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">And this was just my workstation. Imagine what the rest of the house looked like!</span></div>
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We finally got there, and it was a... learning experience. There were quite a <b>few "less-than-ideal" things about the show</b>, but they were mostly balanced out by something good. So, in typical Alyssa fashion, here's my list of the bad/good things about the show:<br />
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<b>1)</b> Not very many people came to the show, and most who did were there for the wine, <b>BUT I did make over twice my entrance fee! <b> </b></b>Plus, everybody wanted to touch my mosaics, so at least I know they are interesting!<br />
<b>2)</b> There was a weird giant metal wine glass in front of us, <b>but all of the drunk people loved it and took pictures with it.</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsYdJ0_8pG_SzFzEt349jIMSs5OgOUeWyjy7gkSEIF38lYBRv0_P_GcVgKQg1KtQONHTpkQb5b4Lfrvu8nf8nkI2ygS-jotvJUCX2X2VS8FPggn4MFPg-SKKKuePDMoMqY4qnGPo3_qlFk/s1600/2012-10-06_18-06-37_660.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsYdJ0_8pG_SzFzEt349jIMSs5OgOUeWyjy7gkSEIF38lYBRv0_P_GcVgKQg1KtQONHTpkQb5b4Lfrvu8nf8nkI2ygS-jotvJUCX2X2VS8FPggn4MFPg-SKKKuePDMoMqY4qnGPo3_qlFk/s640/2012-10-06_18-06-37_660.jpg" width="640" /> </a><span style="font-size: x-small;">It<span style="font-size: x-small;">'s just a big wine glass! I don't get it</span>!</span> </div>
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<b>3)</b> The music was local and the first band consisted of high schoolers, but <b>those kids were seriously talented.</b><br />
<b>4)</b> It was extremely cold, <b>but one of the wineries gave us warm sangria for sharing our power strip!</b><br />
<b>5)</b> It was also super windy, <b>but none of my displays blew over because they were just open frames!</b><br />
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So there it is. My first craft show. All in all, I wouldn't trade it for the world. In fact, it was so not-terrible, I signed up for another show in November! All for now, later, kids!<br />
<br />Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06812830109269424808noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448152950667896430.post-59663456147602584692012-10-02T17:24:00.003-07:002012-10-02T17:31:51.948-07:00Welcome Home, Comango!This weekend Sam's parents came to visit. It was super great for several reasons, 1) they are fun to hang out with; 2) they made of lots of good food and also filled our fridge; and 3) <b>THEY BROUGHT OUR PETS!!!</b><br />
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Granted, our pets are a fish and lizard. Not super cuddly, but they are still pretty cute, and I LOVE having animals around.<br />
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So, my friends, meet <b>I Don't Know, Finn (Finn for short) and Comango</b>.<br />
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As you can see, <b>I Don't Know, Finn is a beautiful betta fish</b>. He currently lives in a lovely little dish on our kitchen table. His hobbies are floating around in his bowl, eating fish pellets, looking at people as they move around the room, and occasionally making a bubble nest at the top of his dish. <br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> So regal.</span></div>
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He also seems to enjoy spending time with his fake plant and traveling
from one end of his dish to the other. He's truly a joy to be around. <b>His name is a story I'll tell some other time. Or maybe I won't. I don't really know.</b><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> He loves that plant.</span></div>
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<b>And now, the moment you've all been waiting for: Comango!</b> He's an excellent desert gecko. <b>He has fatty stores in his tail, and it looks like his head.</b> Hence, Comango. Say it out loud, if I have to explain it to you anymore, it's not just worth it. Well, dear Comango enjoys sleeping in his cave, sleeping in the sand, sleeping near his rocks, and once in awhile, moving.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Comango's Crib.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg05rq-ppkPX_vU4mw_7SDWwqKLJKtwcvDsVVJ_IiKc25uoe2IGJRsoAlVc26r00h0t6hyphenhyphenC936pdx8E7HsXchYD2hyphenhypheno7VM7TrvJFCPKEa9siMdAEqvWdFHLVbQ7kKJu3lnIvw-ocQ_FsAcz/s1600/2012-10-02_17-11-03_474.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="372" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg05rq-ppkPX_vU4mw_7SDWwqKLJKtwcvDsVVJ_IiKc25uoe2IGJRsoAlVc26r00h0t6hyphenhyphenC936pdx8E7HsXchYD2hyphenhypheno7VM7TrvJFCPKEa9siMdAEqvWdFHLVbQ7kKJu3lnIvw-ocQ_FsAcz/s400/2012-10-02_17-11-03_474.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">He's a little cuddly!</span> </div>
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His moving often involves crawling slightly outside of his cave and eating
crickets. Unless the crickets wander in to his cave, in which case, he
does not leave or really move at all. He's just the greatest lizard. <b>He also has
adorable feet.</b></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">What a sexy lizard!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The cutest feet!</span></div>
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Welcome home, guys! It's great to have you :)Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06812830109269424808noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448152950667896430.post-16986839078325388152012-09-25T15:46:00.001-07:002012-10-02T17:32:40.076-07:00Nature Hike: The Perils of CarbondaleMany of you may know that I live in Southern Illinois. However, I'm not sure how many of you were aware of how "wild" parts of Southern Illinois are. But not to fear, I'm about to enlighten you.<br />
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This weekend, Sam and I went hiking in the little Grand Canyon. It's a
3.5-4 mile circular hike down a huge, steep hillside, through a creek
bed, and back up another steep incline. On the way, there are a few
overlooks that give some spectacular views.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">For example, this view. Pretty cool.</span></div>
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The big views are hardly the reason Sam and I hike around here though. Most of the trail is covered by trees and crowded with underbrush. And that's the easy part. Lots of places on the trail are literally just walking on the side of a cliff. The trail even goes straight down a tiered waterfall, with steps cut into the stone. And, all of that is super cool too, but still not why Sam and I go hiking here.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Not kidding about the cliffs.</span></div>
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We go to hike the Little Grand Canyon because there are so many cool creatures there! Snakes, lizards, birds, fish, and a ton of toads and frogs! Everywhere you look, there are little animals. We're working on identifying some of them, but I think it's fun just to see them. Take this guy, for example. We saw three or four lizards of the same species, but this guy practically posed for a picture:<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> "I'm sexy, and I know it."</span></div>
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And these fish came right up to us when we went to look at them. I hoped they just wanted to say "hi" like the animals in Snow White. When they all lunged for the rock I tossed in the water, we figured out it's probably just because they thought they were going to be fed...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpQ_tefGX5hezmY0f3fLGqEOTWQpL1vDG7EWmXYL3SbPGYUPpeGwem_Few6ZIigrVv-Cx6RJSGGbdydzSotECjl6N4wrHd7qoaIaRV5iKlVGvzSqA1zzybKPCrQSTe9ndwkKJy5g-my4n6/s1600/2012-09-22_12-42-49_618.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpQ_tefGX5hezmY0f3fLGqEOTWQpL1vDG7EWmXYL3SbPGYUPpeGwem_Few6ZIigrVv-Cx6RJSGGbdydzSotECjl6N4wrHd7qoaIaRV5iKlVGvzSqA1zzybKPCrQSTe9ndwkKJy5g-my4n6/s400/2012-09-22_12-42-49_618.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Feeding wild fish probably isn't the best idea...</span></div>
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However, there is also danger lurking in the woods! We almost got eaten by a cottonmouth!!!! (Okay, fine. I'm not 100% sure this is a cottonmouth. And it also did not lunge, threaten, or bother us in anyway. We didn't even get closer than five feet to it. And it's definitely too small to eat us. But still. It COULD be dangerous!)<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Look at him! Definitely, possibly venomous!</span></div>
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It was certainly an adventure. It's nice to be able to drive twenty minutes and be somewhere kinda wild. And that place, surprisingly enough happens to be in Southern Illinois.<br />
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Anyway, I have nothing else for you, except this cave that looks like a face going "aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh":<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">A big cave mouth, and little cave eyes!</span></div>
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'Til next time!<br />
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<br />Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06812830109269424808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448152950667896430.post-83883732608955906952012-09-18T09:19:00.002-07:002012-10-02T17:33:33.021-07:00Today is a good day. Sigh. Guys, I have a problem. It's not an uncommon problem, but a serious one nonetheless. I was sitting in my quiet little living room feeling totally sorry for myself this morning. And every second, I came up with another reason to feel even sorrier for myself.<br />
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<b>Seriously. Full-on pity party.</b> Feeling bad that I don't have a job yet, feeling bad that we can't have a dog in this apartment, feeling bad that my coffee was getting cold and that iwastesomuchtime.com wasn't very funny this morning. Then I started feeling bad that my living room doesn't have enough windows, and that I wished it was pomegranate season already and that Sam doesn't come back from work until 4:30 which is six whole hours from now and I have to be by myself until then. It started to get really ridiculous when I felt sad that my legs were sore from sitting and pouting all morning, and that I had six dishes in the sink to do, and that I should probably vacuum this week. (I obviously have a hard life.) <br />
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Finally, it got so ridiculous, that the living room couldn't even hold my sadness anymore, <b>so I had to move to the sunroom</b>.... And then I felt sad in the sunroom because it was messy from the last time I was in there, as I hadn't cleaned it up yet, and that I keep losing to Lance from the Elite Four because his dragon Pokemon are better than mine.<br />
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So, here I am in, in the throes of depression, when I heard an acorn outside the sun room. I looked up, and this is what I saw:<br />
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Now, it's a little hard to sit around and keep telling yourself how much life sucks when this is the view outside your windows. Especially when the sun is shining, there is a nice breeze, it's a beautiful 65-70 degrees, <b>AND twin fawns just walked through our backyard with their mom.</b> (Of course they freaked out when I opened the door, so I didn't get a picture, but you get the point.) <br />
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I really couldn't stay inside, so I went and walked around my yard for awhile, looking at the grass, listening to the birds, smelling the air, and generally having happiness forced upon me by Mother Nature. <br />
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I mean, THIS IS WHAT THE SKY LOOKS LIKE TODAY! <b>How can you be grumpy when the sky looks like this?! </b><br />
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After that, I had to do a little re-evaluating. Perhaps my life doesn't totally suck. For example:<br />
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I am currently without a job, but I do have two interviews coming up, and I'm almost done applying to grad school.<br />
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I do have six dishes to do, but half of them are mine, and Sam did the dishes yesterday.<br />
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I have to vacuum, but most of the cat-hair from the previous owner is gone.<br />
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Sam is gone during the day, but I get to spend my whole evening with my best friend and greatest husband ever.<br />
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My legs felt a whole lot better when I actually stood up and did something.<br />
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We can't have a dog, but Sam's parents are bringing our lizard Comango to Carbondale in two weeks. <br />
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<b>PLUS</b> I live somewhere where I can fish five minutes down the road, hike for miles, and have adorable animals walk through my backyard everyday. <br />
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When I look at it that way,<b> </b>I suppose<b> </b>I was being a little ridiculous this morning. Okay, okay. <b>I was being completely absurd. </b>It's so easy to get caught up in feeling sad. All I have to do is sit and make excuses for why everything is wrong, and I'm not required to make any changes. Sometimes, what I really need to do is just stand up, look around, and realize that the forecast is really good.<br />
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<b>So yeah. Actually my life is pretty great.</b> Thank you, tiny deer, for reminding me. <br />
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<i>P.S. To be fair, I do keep losing to Lance in Pokemon, but I guess it's not that important :)</i><br />
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<br />Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06812830109269424808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448152950667896430.post-41457125490081774182012-09-07T09:22:00.002-07:002012-10-02T17:34:43.837-07:00Wall Hangings: Glimpses of EccentricityThat title might be a <i>little</i> bold. But as I was looking around the house this morning, it occurred to me that we have some weird things showcased on our walls.<br />
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It started out innocently enough. I just wanted to make the house seem more lived-in, but Sam and I (okay, mostly me) like some weird things. Also, the whiteness of the walls has caused me to compulsively cover them with anything and everything I can find. (In fact, I ran out of 3M poster hanging tape today. I even put it on my grocery list, although it's probably for the best right now.)<br />
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Anyway, as I started going around and actually looking at all the things I have taped together on the wall, it started to get a little strange. Sure, it started out normal, but the typical "crazy cat-lady"only started with one mild-mannered cat too. Before you know it, she's covered in scratches, she can't find her tv remote under the fur shed all over, and she's got seven cats that sleep in her bed while she's demoted to the couch, (not unlike the girl who lived in this house before us.) <br />
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<b>Exhibit #1:</b> The Normal Things<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Not everything on my wall is weird. I have some very typical things. Like this nice clock, or this picture frame full of people that I love.</span><br />
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<b>Exhibit #2:</b> Nature Things<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">This isn't weird either, not by my standards anyway<span id="goog_1135726953"></span><span id="goog_1135726954"></span>. My husband is a fisheries major and we do to do things outside! It's perfectly reasonable that we would have a scientific fish poster, a witty "Fisherman Lives Here" sign, and a sentimental paper cut of a great outdoor scene. </span><br />
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<b>Exhibit #3:</b> Alphonse Mucha?<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Here we start to digress from the previous theme. Yes, I am an artist, but I get that an Alphonse Mucha design study doesn't really fit the mood we set. Weird? Not necessarily, but perhaps it is a little<span id="goog_1135726960"></span><span id="goog_1135726961"></span> out of place. </span><br />
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<b>Exhibit #4:</b> Old Winking Man?!<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Seriously?! Where did this guy even come from? Why did I agree to hang him on my wall right above my computer? Why is he looking so seductively at everyone?! </span><br />
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<b>Exhibit #5:</b> Pandas. There are pandas everywhere. <br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">This is perhaps the most disturbing trend because I didn't realize it until recently. Yes, I have a lot of panda things, I always have. But I really did leave a lot of things at home when I moved! I only have two panda wall hangings. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikK-PWrfDb3O9bf_D0Sblzp4bjHliu0f292RBMy7uBXpUEGxrC5_9AtOh2gFvhgpxRRjvdR3BWuFst0A1Lpm48IYShdes4GBPaWNuqi-VZvdoH1qlL92QPySv44NgYoRN5CHmBgPmPIBHX/s1600/2012-09-05_12-04-29_994.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikK-PWrfDb3O9bf_D0Sblzp4bjHliu0f292RBMy7uBXpUEGxrC5_9AtOh2gFvhgpxRRjvdR3BWuFst0A1Lpm48IYShdes4GBPaWNuqi-VZvdoH1qlL92QPySv44NgYoRN5CHmBgPmPIBHX/s200/2012-09-05_12-04-29_994.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeHECKYU6m2er3EaE2qwZwDoSYv2XIy6WbDuR7pJxnvnmiLNX-fNCg8fWKbx3iFmtD4jrkOMMdWOtUrqGpXDH2dNrdjwnw09j3hQhZ4Qy-jlFy3frwvip6Qro5n3fAYLTsQCmkUnOfDXXG/s1600/2012-09-07_10-12-13_191.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeHECKYU6m2er3EaE2qwZwDoSYv2XIy6WbDuR7pJxnvnmiLNX-fNCg8fWKbx3iFmtD4jrkOMMdWOtUrqGpXDH2dNrdjwnw09j3hQhZ4Qy-jlFy3frwvip6Qro5n3fAYLTsQCmkUnOfDXXG/s320/2012-09-07_10-12-13_191.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">But as I started looking and cleaning, I discovered my walls are not the only place the pandas are lurking. On my night stand, my panda necklace....</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Under my craft desk, a panda trash can....</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZwdoVKK-jWQoRWd82lYEgXi0UwOMXo5P6dUkDcnsETGTm5-MlVtm5k2EmO0PWAFyrZ-OsXP9em3rkoHrrV0D1-FlwGsK6Qp7A5ZgxhfHkdyibZSlegFToqZ-olMz9dcyPxPCASBlnLdP6/s1600/IMG_20120907_101749.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZwdoVKK-jWQoRWd82lYEgXi0UwOMXo5P6dUkDcnsETGTm5-MlVtm5k2EmO0PWAFyrZ-OsXP9em3rkoHrrV0D1-FlwGsK6Qp7A5ZgxhfHkdyibZSlegFToqZ-olMz9dcyPxPCASBlnLdP6/s320/IMG_20120907_101749.jpg" width="236" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">And in my closet!!! The horror!!!!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVt4kHUcKl1bhqzIy7r4hQxi6SIwDdvLJLa3k5RcdPj0mLqX-uJjZZq-iTsmVC_X4ajAw7qhj4M6hoLgCBeUxkcAsvrvXGwN_Gr8CpRLJVTyBV-H6pJcYDXOzBSeJSIh3_qPhVcKnQPSJM/s1600/IMG_20120907_102646.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVt4kHUcKl1bhqzIy7r4hQxi6SIwDdvLJLa3k5RcdPj0mLqX-uJjZZq-iTsmVC_X4ajAw7qhj4M6hoLgCBeUxkcAsvrvXGwN_Gr8CpRLJVTyBV-H6pJcYDXOzBSeJSIh3_qPhVcKnQPSJM/s200/IMG_20120907_102646.jpg" width="185" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbqwF77NZMFu1yZQcVOZepPwufMQpMD66n_qGnnuptPkHuq4T1UdDwbhKbnEn7zaQLtpA-csIGDlRnek_SBIBI-xnlRHybB5kiMR-NWK7Qs8eXPF94-pjtQrTmnfCVQu5stAFqF2uf3XOp/s1600/IMG_20120907_102533.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbqwF77NZMFu1yZQcVOZepPwufMQpMD66n_qGnnuptPkHuq4T1UdDwbhKbnEn7zaQLtpA-csIGDlRnek_SBIBI-xnlRHybB5kiMR-NWK7Qs8eXPF94-pjtQrTmnfCVQu5stAFqF2uf3XOp/s320/IMG_20120907_102533.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Okay, so maybe the stuff on my wall isn't <i>that </i>weird. But the title says "eccentric," not weird. And it is definitely eccentric. Plus, the winking guy is totally weird. And I do have a potentially unhealthy amount of panda things. (Actually, I'm pretty excited about having the cute little guys with me all the time.)<br />
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Until my next update on the status of my house, (or whatever catches my fancy next time I feel like writing) I hope my pandas brightened your day :) <br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06812830109269424808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448152950667896430.post-71571225715175973412012-09-05T10:07:00.001-07:002012-10-02T17:34:29.994-07:00Home is where the Pandas are (No, I don't mean China.)As usual, I'm pretty much the worst at keeping a regular journal, blog, or really anything of the sort. But until I get my professional life all figured out and now that our apartment is pretty much settled, I suppose I have a lot of free time on my hands.<br />
<br />
So, this is for you guys who've been asking for updated apartment pictures. Aside from just unpacking and putting things away, we've been trying to get as much color as possible into the place. The carpet is tan and the walls are white, and at first glance, it just feels... bland. But I think we've done pretty well since our move-in on August 17th. Here's a sampling of our space.<br />
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<b>Exhibit #1</b> - The Breakfast Nook (currently the puzzle table, but we eat food here too): <br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">It may not look like much, but it has a big window and lots of natural light. The best way to wake up in the morning!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAgBHKiMfixNcXg4k6-lrGiKgWHMxKynpUcTyDW7cHnuSixW-QrBiETV6gAR5wkDPendeA1oTEl5FDPYYyvspvtOvHT4_ArwJ10eAbyqXkdw2NthXtkxmx5SRaduWTft984ql_S7DP9V19/s1600/2012-09-02_13-18-33_573.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAgBHKiMfixNcXg4k6-lrGiKgWHMxKynpUcTyDW7cHnuSixW-QrBiETV6gAR5wkDPendeA1oTEl5FDPYYyvspvtOvHT4_ArwJ10eAbyqXkdw2NthXtkxmx5SRaduWTft984ql_S7DP9V19/s640/2012-09-02_13-18-33_573.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<b>Exhibit #2</b> - The Kitchen: <br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">If you are thinking to yourself, "Wow that's a lot of stuff and not very much counter," you would be correct. But at least we have all the appliances we need for modern convenience! Plus, the cabinets are pretty new, and Sam and I don't take up too much space anyway. I like to think its cozy.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0dwKGXtyjuWSweQp89FbSe70lIbuu1wZe_MUJ5GQDTvCsxDQ7NwAp-idQ9W-RwQmEBAAgfTaJ9Ogm7NHkkJJYVz0l-tJ-FFwc2HA5H7Gs3tubgVWiE9ARf7jNkTciEbYY15fnr7q9IdRE/s1600/2012-09-02_13-19-20_180.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0dwKGXtyjuWSweQp89FbSe70lIbuu1wZe_MUJ5GQDTvCsxDQ7NwAp-idQ9W-RwQmEBAAgfTaJ9Ogm7NHkkJJYVz0l-tJ-FFwc2HA5H7Gs3tubgVWiE9ARf7jNkTciEbYY15fnr7q9IdRE/s640/2012-09-02_13-19-20_180.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<b>Exhibit #3</b> - The Living Room (a.k.a. the Nerve Center): <br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">This is where I spend pretty much all of my time during the day. There are a bunch of window doors around so we get a lot of light, and the tv/couch is here. If you notice to the right, my craft table is also located in this area with my computer. So more specifically, that corner is where I spend most of my time during the day, either </span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> job searching (Meh...) or</span> crafting (Yay!).</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkE4ZzyrfOO4-CYTwtVUoysca6ngOw1XoPvZa-NL9vvAYgSMm0qt1ta8g9YN0Hj-2R9f13tzSuXHyRhn9IRfr5GUT6XxS9MUZ6e8Lb1Drw_rCcN26RIF2imgP2L4PsIxtSNA4MhIXw1vEa/s1600/2012-09-02_13-21-35_340.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkE4ZzyrfOO4-CYTwtVUoysca6ngOw1XoPvZa-NL9vvAYgSMm0qt1ta8g9YN0Hj-2R9f13tzSuXHyRhn9IRfr5GUT6XxS9MUZ6e8Lb1Drw_rCcN26RIF2imgP2L4PsIxtSNA4MhIXw1vEa/s640/2012-09-02_13-21-35_340.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> </i></span><br />
<b>Exhibit #4</b> - The Bathroom (or "Room with that orange counter): <br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Yeah. this one didn't change much. The counter is still orange, and the walls are still white. But we did add a shelf! And it's much cozier with a rug and a panda towel.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRnwsuSi7yHybd397T1StGA1uZYkeMtGb5sXma6XSoEQignzp39VAut4fYSprzhiNF7YJ8sULYtUgl8WA6Yn9nIlkjLKdcGN6u4dSqII2p3FeQqclFWKewSHaeSeoQy0O0F6_-9BnQG3gI/s1600/2012-09-02_13-22-17_712.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRnwsuSi7yHybd397T1StGA1uZYkeMtGb5sXma6XSoEQignzp39VAut4fYSprzhiNF7YJ8sULYtUgl8WA6Yn9nIlkjLKdcGN6u4dSqII2p3FeQqclFWKewSHaeSeoQy0O0F6_-9BnQG3gI/s640/2012-09-02_13-22-17_712.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<b>Exhibit #5</b> - The Bedroom: <br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">This room is still the least colorful one in the house. But that's because the bookshelf in the room is white and I haven't put many things on the walls. I like to think that the absurdly colorful comforter makes up for it though.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOcF-7XWj0qTq9sf92HjsadqiYqZvA8z7U4qIH42_FKyadk3O2oES_E7l-tm5v3WGA6dLuu3DRNWErL2wcEHo76u4zwXuEwwM51kqacmKfsiH3Uy4HEpwpAHN8BpJDGRbbMt4rqNAh413x/s1600/2012-09-02_13-23-11_373.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOcF-7XWj0qTq9sf92HjsadqiYqZvA8z7U4qIH42_FKyadk3O2oES_E7l-tm5v3WGA6dLuu3DRNWErL2wcEHo76u4zwXuEwwM51kqacmKfsiH3Uy4HEpwpAHN8BpJDGRbbMt4rqNAh413x/s640/2012-09-02_13-23-11_373.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>Exhibit #6</b> - Panda Rug: <br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">It really ties the room together.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYq2plsyOfHHTDcQIEFiBfE_BdQsavuypJ4kdfRNd8GYxzcvyMMvKUokmLOj8pudTtxTU4AxZyZ6rey7264f1I95ESNgFa9kV6G5CgTBJ5Axbd-r_pP0X8FJlpsrqcrno7AW93_X4y1SoD/s1600/2012-09-05_12-04-29_994.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYq2plsyOfHHTDcQIEFiBfE_BdQsavuypJ4kdfRNd8GYxzcvyMMvKUokmLOj8pudTtxTU4AxZyZ6rey7264f1I95ESNgFa9kV6G5CgTBJ5Axbd-r_pP0X8FJlpsrqcrno7AW93_X4y1SoD/s640/2012-09-05_12-04-29_994.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Alrighty, well, that was fun. I hope you enjoyed your visit to our humble, but homey abode! Now my mom can stop complaining about not having enough pictures :)<br />
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<br />Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06812830109269424808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448152950667896430.post-29038752646135392772012-01-26T11:51:00.000-08:002012-01-26T12:02:14.955-08:00Why I'm Going to Miss This (Part one)<b>It recently dawned on me.</b> (I know. I make this is a statement that I make a lot.) In this particular instance, it's the beginning of several revelations I have had about the fact that pretty soon, I will be leaving <b>this little home I've made for myself in Hillsdale, Michigan</b>. That's pretty sad in some ways, and most people probably don't want to think about it yet since we are still in January, but I like to confront things early. We all know it's coming, so I suppose, with so many others in America whining about their worthless college experience and mounds of debt, this is just my way of <b>trying to understand what really has transpired in my time here</b>. Also, my sorority, Pi Beta Phi, recently picked up a new member class of 18 awesome young women. All but one of them are freshmen. This will be the last class to join any sorority on campus before I graduate in May. And now I feel old. Not just old, but nostalgic. It's kinda funny, because I spend a decent amount of time complaining about ALL the things. But really, the last four years have been good for me. So, this post is going to go with academics since it's the easiest to quantify, and also the least emotional thing I could talk about, when it comes to graduating and moving on with my life. <br />
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First, in every way, my high school did not give me any of these feelings. I absolutely couldn't wait to get out.<b> Being a senior after a depressing summer and a hard junior year felt like an extra year of slavery tacked on to my servitude</b> to a place that didn't particularly care much about me as long as I gave them great test scores, a lot of tuition money, and kept my angsty, rebellious opinions to myself. Which I did, mostly because it was helping me plot my escape.<br />
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College has been very different for me. <b>A humbling experience</b> in the way of hard work, if nothing else. I came in, after doing almost no work in high school and still managing to graduate as a valedictorian (something that seems less and less impressive each passing second, considering there were nine of us, and well, it was high school.) <b>Nonetheless, I was convinced of my personal brilliance.</b> I had never not gotten an A in a class before, but this was Hillsdale, and I knew my grades wouldn't be as good anyway. So I went about my business, putting slightly more than minimal effort into my schoolwork, just so long as I could keep my scholarships. <br />
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It worked for a little while. And then I had a wake-up call.<br />
1) <b>I took Bio 300</b> which was about 10000x harder than I thought it would be. Also, my interest in it was almost nonexistent. And I did not do well, even on my "just get a B" standard.<br />
2) All these people around me excelled at school, learning things, working hard, being stressed, etc, and here I was. Just chilling. Swimming, working, but not really terribly concerned. Basically, I was <b>slacking to the max</b>, and I started feeling a little bored, and a little worthless.<br />
3) My Dad threatened to make me pay more of my school if I didn't get better grades, <b>which was even better motivation than any personal reason</b>, especially at first.<br />
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Unsurprisingly, the next semester went extremely well for me. And once you have one good semester like that, it gets a little addictive. I like to excel at things, and I like to win, and getting really good grades sort of feels like "winning" at school, so I couldn't stop. (Yes, shallow, I know.)<br />
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Now, that's a long tangent, but it's really not the point. The point is, I have learned a lot. In the last two years especially, <b>I have learned A LOT</b>.<br />
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Once I started putting work into my education, I started feeling attached to it. Like I was actually doing something worthwhile with my time, not just with my artwork, but with my more intellectual pursuits here too. <b>I also learned that I am not a very smart person</b>. It took me two years to discover that hard work in school is a good thing. Most people had that figured out in middle school. (What can I say? I'm stubborn.) <br />
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Also, I have these people called professors who hand out information and challenges like it's their job! (Oh wait.) As I started paying attention, I started discovering so many things, about how to learn, how to think, how to be curious and present problems and solutions for yourself. <b>I started grasping the idea of learning for personal growth and not for some letter or number on a paper</b>. I liked thinking, and I liked discovering, and I liked learning. After I leave this place, I'm going to have to figure out how to do all of that on my own, which is kinda scary. But, at the same time, it's exciting, because being at Hillsdale, <b>I learned how to learn</b>, from friends and family just as much as professors.<br />
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So, basically. I'm going to miss all of that. I'm not going to talk about missing people, or memories like that now, because that will make me a little bit sad. <b>And talking about learning and thinking and all of that is basically emotionless.</b> Woo. Sorry I'm not sorry if you find this boring or wonder why I have to talk about school in my free time, while I'm putting off the 8,000 other projects I could be doing. Also, if you are reading this, I'll probably see you later, and <b>have a nice day</b>.Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06812830109269424808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448152950667896430.post-35323317686261784622011-11-21T20:37:00.000-08:002011-11-21T20:43:06.073-08:00I used to want to be Brian Jacques.I only ever seem to post when I have something very deep and meaningful and life-questioning to say. And that happens like every six months. Maybe less, depending on how exciting my life is, how busy I am, if I'm sleepy, and if I'm pensive. The mix of those four things has to be perfect for me to get a really thought provoking piece of writing up. <b>And it's always something that I wrote late at night when I should have gone to bed.</b> For some reason those are always the best.<br />
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It's funny, because I used to think I was the best writer ever when I was little. Like seriously, the next Charles Dickens, minus the man parts. Or Beverly Cleary, because I thought she was funny. Okay, who am I kidding. <b>I wanted to be Brian Jacques.</b> He was so exciting and entertaining and had like a thousand books published, and I seriously wanted to be him. Although I also kinda wanted to be a mouse, especially after reading his books, so my aspirations were pretty high.<br />
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So I would write these elaborate outlines for these crazy books, and wrote all of my favorite scenes and chapters for them. I had so many notebooks full of these kinds of stories. Unfortunately, I never came up for endings for any of them. I know that is supposed to be the hardest part, but really, Little Me?! You couldn't end a single story?!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9D9jXnZY2r7Ku7eJfqhug37RbiBs-WEX9lSKBNxlBh6-Jf-tc64DLhwC0lzt1GFMX9N93dJ9_UN7P9pSwiXZb7GmbQNneUlLrGTtm_svdIJOA6vMTWcsM0pkfjJ9iX3rktR4WgGhDdlmJ/s1600/n510302867_1346620_2976.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9D9jXnZY2r7Ku7eJfqhug37RbiBs-WEX9lSKBNxlBh6-Jf-tc64DLhwC0lzt1GFMX9N93dJ9_UN7P9pSwiXZb7GmbQNneUlLrGTtm_svdIJOA6vMTWcsM0pkfjJ9iX3rktR4WgGhDdlmJ/s320/n510302867_1346620_2976.jpg" width="224" /> </a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Little Me (aka. future Brian Jacques enthusiast, because I don't think I could read quite yet)</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Anyway, I digress. Like I said, <b>I was convinced I was the best writer ever, in all of history</b>, at least for my age. And then I went to high school. Most people might get the sense about this kind of humility stuff knocked into them, but not me. High school just more thoroughly convinced me that I was a great writer. I had ever grammar rule ever memorized, even if I didn't always use them. I took all these extra English classes and wrote cutesy emotional stories that my creative writing teacher liked. And I took Honors and AP English, and I did great. <b>So obviously, beyond the shadow of a doubt, I was the greatest writer.</b> I had proof. I mean, come on, if I could write in high school, I was set for life!!<br />
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And then I went to college.<br />
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<b>Hillsdale College.</b><br />
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Now, I love Hillsdale College. But few other colleges will look at your youthful cockiness about how awesome you are and laugh in your face so loudly. Even the best of students have to work hard at Hillsdale, and even the best writers get mediocre grades on papers. <b>And that's when I learned that I really wasn't the best writer ever...</b> Fortunately, I wasn't terribly disheartened, because I had already found something I liked waaaaaaaaay better than writing stuff about Fairy Muffins. <b>ART STUFF!!!</b> And I call it that because I like to experiment in literally every branch of art I can get into. Crafting, painting, dry media, digital media, I will try all of it at least once.<br />
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Anyway, that's the long, kinda unfocused story of why I'm not an <b>English Major.</b><br />
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<i>PS. "Albert and the Fairy Muffins" was a short story about a bunny who found "fairy muffins" with his woodland friends one day. No, I don't actually know what fairy muffins are, but I'm going to go ahead and assume that if you ever read the story, <b>you'll probably agree that all the forest creatures were on shrooms anyway, so it really doesn't matter.</b> Actually, maybe you would just think that about me since I wrote it, but I swear, I definitely had no idea that "shrooms" could be anything other than a pizza ingredient at that point in my life. And well, that's pretty much the same.</i>Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06812830109269424808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448152950667896430.post-67634964907885352442011-11-17T22:55:00.000-08:002011-11-27T17:13:13.747-08:00I might be starting to get it.<style>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Almost three years ago, I was a journal-er. I couldn't have a single thought without writing it down. I was just into my second semester of college, and I was so busy having an epiphany every day, I was sure I would never remember them all if I didn't write them down. It was a good habit, something to look back on and see how I've grown.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Since then, I have had less time to journal. Less time for epiphanies. Maybe less need for epiphanies. Who knows.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Either way, also about this time three years ago<b>, I wrote a journal entry about my future.</b> My future as an independent, secure woman.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">That hasn't changed. I'm still independent. I'm more secure than ever.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">However, that journal was focused about my future as an independent, secure woman, who would never be married. That's what I decided. I'd never be married. <b>I could live and never be married and be totally okay with it. And in fact, I expected it.</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In most ways, not much of that has changed either. But at the same time, I was writing that about a future secure, independent me that didn't exist yet. I was working up to it. My life was in flux then, in many ways. In many positive ways even. I was about to have a new sister, who in welcoming her into my family, taught me so many things about myself, about other people, about family, about God, and perhaps mostly about love. I was about to have my <b>hip</b> replaced, which at the time, seemed like the biggest, scariest thing in the world. Scarier than having <b>a new sister </b>after a life as an only child, scarier than anything I could imagine because I couldn't even know what it would be like and feel like once my surgery was all over. And I had just severed <b>relationships</b> that had emotionally and spiritually taken all the parts of me that I wanted to define for myself. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In all of that, I sat and looked back at this thing called "love," in the romantic sense, and I couldn't even fathom it. It was all so foreign, so unimportant to me at the time. How could I possibly consider that with everything else? Another person would have surely been an irritable distraction.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And then, through that summer and spring, so many things that I just described occurred. I did get a new hip. And I got a sister. And I loved her, even if I didn't know how to express it. I didn't resent her; I didn't feel cramped by her; I just didn't know how to tell her. It just felt like she was always supposed to be there. And I knew that, and I was fine with it, even if we were in very different places, and I would never quite get enough time to get to know her. And again I thought, who could have time for anything else? How am I supposed to contemplate something else when I have all of this to process?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And I went back to school, and my life carried on again. I got distracted, overwhelmed, and exhausted. I came home, and I recuperated. And I knew that this was my time to be just me. I knew this was my time to find me, to come into my own, all on my own.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And then something else happened, <b>because God never works quite when I expect him to.</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I met some one. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>I met some one named Sam</b>.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And I thought it was funny because that was my dog's name.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And I couldn't stop thinking about him. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We talked. And talked. And talked. And we listened. And we got to know each other. And before I knew it, I couldn't imagine life without him. Not that I couldn't live without him, just that there was a new fullness, a new level of existence that I hadn't even considered before. And I thought, and thought, and wrote, and thought more. And we kept talking. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">As we talked, and as we were apart, something happened to me. <b>I suddenly was my own person</b>. The realization that I so desperately loved another person, made me even more aware of myself in a sense. It challenged me. It challenged my motives, my theories, my faith, my philosophies, my emotions, my tactics, and my desires.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I have always been an analytical person, striving to constantly understand. I don't take many things at face value. I have to figure them out. I thought I had figured myself out. But Sam made me reconsider everything. Oddly enough, in becoming attached to another person, I started to become the secure, strong, independent woman that I had struggled to find before.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And that made me love him even more. I started to understand that "being alone" isn't what defines some one, nor is "being okay" with yourself. No. <b>You are ultimately defined by your love for some one else.</b> Not just for your significant other, but for everyone; though perhaps it is most apparent, most easily and strongly felt through the one closest to you. You will sacrifice the most for them, you will receive the most from them, you will hurt the most for them, and you will be changed the most by them. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So when he asked me, merely a month ago, to marry him, and when I said "yes," I didn't feel weak. I wasn't giving in to anything. I was signing up for what will be the manifestation of most challenging and rewarding relationship of my life. <b>I'm not too weak to be alone. I'm strong enough to be with Sam.</b> Because let's be honest, he isn't just some one else. He is he most suited person in the world for me, and hopefully I for him. I am marrying the most loyal man in the world, and promising to make a lifelong commitment to him is not scary or foreign. <b>It's the most exciting thing I have ever done.</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'm not done growing, learning, or understanding. I undoubtedly never will be. I am not the best at loving people, at being patient, or anything of the sort. I try to be better at it. But I am fully confident in the fact that I am can love, that I do love as best as I can, and that being in this place is not a weakness as I may have once considered it. <b>Knowing and loving Sam has made me better.</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Perhaps all of you who've been married for years are looking at this and smiling. Or perhaps you are shaking your head. Or perhaps my writing is convoluted, and you are just confused. But I hope we can all agree that I am on to something, even if I can't possibly understand the whole concept now. Until then, let's just agree that we all do want to be loved, but we are also meant to love, in whatever way we can discover. <b>After all, isn’t God love? Isn’t that our very essence?</b> I am simply blessed to have found it not only in my family, my friends, and my peers, but also a dear man that I intend to call my husband.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeDB_w8fpsV_SLWZ9yLUe8MAnGbfmfuYF13B0fUa25KPpdGWZ0uUHch4jGb92SmFlZg4BM9S8-6xb2NllE_WkLKeYim72X3m7H5Jrqhn2Sd-w_Wlilm1owKUdaUyuL_cAZfF1iSmVVr7FJ/s1600/320661_10150450644352868_510302867_10691200_241854470_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeDB_w8fpsV_SLWZ9yLUe8MAnGbfmfuYF13B0fUa25KPpdGWZ0uUHch4jGb92SmFlZg4BM9S8-6xb2NllE_WkLKeYim72X3m7H5Jrqhn2Sd-w_Wlilm1owKUdaUyuL_cAZfF1iSmVVr7FJ/s320/320661_10150450644352868_510302867_10691200_241854470_n.jpg" width="309" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>In case anyone is wondering, this was the original journal, from January 2009:</b></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Everyone wants to be loved. <br />
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I think that's a pretty fair statement.<br />
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But you know that feeling? The one that aches when you see two people together being genuinely happy? The feeling that college girls sit around and pine for? The feeling that people my age plan their lives around? Their weddings, their children, their in-laws, and their old, wrinkly selves next to another equally aged person?<br />
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I'm not sure I've ever felt that. I don't quite know what it is to pine after some one I've never met. I'm not sure I want to.<br />
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I'm not saying that I want to be alone for the rest of my life. Everyone, whether they need it or not or would like to admit it or not, would like a companion. <br />
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But when I look at my future, I don't see Alyssa [Some one else's last name] with two kids, a nice house, and a man at my side. The thought isn't necessarily unpleasant. It seems to have worked quite nicely for a lot of people. It's just that, in even my wildest imagination, I can't see myself there. I try to put myself there, and my mind immediately goes in a different direction.<br />
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And it's not the suburban housewife thing. It's me, being with anyone, relying on anyone, and wanting to spend the rest of my days with anyone. It seems so foreign to me. It's not that I'm afraid of it. In fact, having some one to count on all the time would be nice. It's just that I don't want it? I can't quite form the words to express my exact point. But I'm hoping you get the general idea.<br />
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Therefore, I'm not a commit-o-phobe. But if I can't see myself having any future with any other person, why would I put myself and some other person through that? It seems like a lot of work for something that wouldn't matter for very long. <br />
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I don't feel that burning desire to find my future mate. I'm not filled with panic and dread at facing the future alone. <br />
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I wasn't scarred by some horrible relationship into thinking this way. In fact, I thought this was a possibility before I was ever in any kind of relationship. <br />
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I just feel strangely inhuman saying it out loud for once. After all, aren't we supposed to all be instinctually driven to find a mate and reproduce? Trying to explain such a feeling to most people is useless, and I often just get met with an uncomfortable chuckles or blank stares. I'm elaborating on something that is the complete opposite of what your mother's taught you as a child and what all human history has told us about the natural tendency of humanity. <br />
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Perhaps I'm getting a little melodramatic. I'm not writing off love and marriage for myself. I've just never happened upon anyone, real or fictional, that I've ever imagined myself being with forever. And for now, it simply seems beyond the realm of imagination for me.<br />
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Of course I'm young. I have my whole life ahead of me. I just don't think it would be so awful to be on my own. <br />
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I don't think I've done a very good job expressing my exact emotions on this. Fortunately, most of you already know my feelings on having children. I have a lot more I could say, but for the sake of people possibly reading this, I'll stay as concise as possible.<br />
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And as a precautionary statement, I have nothing against my friends who would like to find their husbands, have children, and be very happy in the normal sense of the word. In fact, I hope the very best for you, and I would like to be in your weddings. </i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div>Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06812830109269424808noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448152950667896430.post-89110658364370430722011-09-01T12:42:00.000-07:002011-09-01T12:42:31.059-07:00Pooh.So, this one day, I found some Pooh stickers in my rather extensive sticker collection. And this is what happened next:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXY9v0GobJyS2RCYFOI0MS7vllljlgh7tZXieIUsTQ3nim8W5D4_k0xmyNw8CGPDxaxp2wwTIPGFoOXw4gHiX7IX7hlfWVt8IT2ZTrRMHSLD7PHOMpw1IYDVVua3MM2INpn_rdtKH-72WV/s1600/CIMG0532.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXY9v0GobJyS2RCYFOI0MS7vllljlgh7tZXieIUsTQ3nim8W5D4_k0xmyNw8CGPDxaxp2wwTIPGFoOXw4gHiX7IX7hlfWVt8IT2ZTrRMHSLD7PHOMpw1IYDVVua3MM2INpn_rdtKH-72WV/s640/CIMG0532.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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Who doesn't love Pooh Bear?! <br />
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Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06812830109269424808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448152950667896430.post-24660015405988441862011-08-18T12:14:00.000-07:002011-08-18T12:14:26.986-07:00Happy Birthday. To Everyone?I feel like there have been quite a few birthdays this summer. Mine included (yay!). So, just to appreciate everyone all at once, I made a birthday card!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAB3vJoJzndACwS4dymw_s2ajZopGXJJ3yQMCV5d2WyTgTFue3n9mCsehPbntxOnbcSI0bjGBtgh5Y_U11PX5Jl0hdJ7RCmhwJfyoThLD4DOUG_zEQwxQmN-Vf6oNcKOPY166bbD4WidCq/s1600/CIMG0523.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAB3vJoJzndACwS4dymw_s2ajZopGXJJ3yQMCV5d2WyTgTFue3n9mCsehPbntxOnbcSI0bjGBtgh5Y_U11PX5Jl0hdJ7RCmhwJfyoThLD4DOUG_zEQwxQmN-Vf6oNcKOPY166bbD4WidCq/s400/CIMG0523.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And there you have it. Congratulations on living another year, summer babies.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKjpD5bEWIfzpW7412gbVR7x3lL0eZNlwdWKQ43KQxyyaIRrDO5LemluWV8BsvgP8aNs_AO9SlJRXG12_t53ErrtjRDEE3ak0Z53MzN66XppSD4q-ZTl03OUqgqqicc6FNDsOHxLQDPxRI/s1600/CIMG0524.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKjpD5bEWIfzpW7412gbVR7x3lL0eZNlwdWKQ43KQxyyaIRrDO5LemluWV8BsvgP8aNs_AO9SlJRXG12_t53ErrtjRDEE3ak0Z53MzN66XppSD4q-ZTl03OUqgqqicc6FNDsOHxLQDPxRI/s400/CIMG0524.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div> PS. I hate that all my pictures get washed out as soon as I upload them here. Never fear though, I'm working on that....<br />
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Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06812830109269424808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448152950667896430.post-73336925370510584932011-08-07T07:17:00.000-07:002011-08-07T07:19:27.133-07:00T is for Terrific!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">To overcompensate for the fact that I only have one picture, behold:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">LARGE SPACE!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_LSa8tgkaxpu7Pu4fX21JZGXh_jUVcDn4xqpsiHUfmZCGa1txLccKOp3_8vV9QNQ2AbuXdL70cdaSFM2gZhXhpi8JcZqTVM62IU1_SyD_jb9ussqGYE1p2vjxdTAFy74qkckDPUaVPvmp/s1600/CIMG0446.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_LSa8tgkaxpu7Pu4fX21JZGXh_jUVcDn4xqpsiHUfmZCGa1txLccKOp3_8vV9QNQ2AbuXdL70cdaSFM2gZhXhpi8JcZqTVM62IU1_SyD_jb9ussqGYE1p2vjxdTAFy74qkckDPUaVPvmp/s400/CIMG0446.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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Anyway, I made this one mostly out of extreme fascination for lettering and because I wanted to use sparkly paper. I guess now that I am making all these cards I should actually start writing cards.... Hah. Just kidding. I would never do that. Til the next time I need to procrastinate on an internet blog! Keep it real kids.Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06812830109269424808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448152950667896430.post-37373341129408661692011-07-26T19:00:00.000-07:002011-07-26T19:01:25.754-07:00I love fruit!!!!Really. I do. Which is probably most of the reason I made these cards.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh90IzXRtF0R25bXTrgFCU5Oofta_CdcR9k-gtH2QsiUe1Cb58DR9muHk0RR1sYIqc7BupjDbNSdU8NeHsBDPnrtsaTrWQeY5J7TD44ahhodwhZLXAuANtRxGSTlbMDLEcXhAKt69-JBDz/s1600/CIMG0436.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh90IzXRtF0R25bXTrgFCU5Oofta_CdcR9k-gtH2QsiUe1Cb58DR9muHk0RR1sYIqc7BupjDbNSdU8NeHsBDPnrtsaTrWQeY5J7TD44ahhodwhZLXAuANtRxGSTlbMDLEcXhAKt69-JBDz/s400/CIMG0436.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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That, and I've been feeling super crafty this week. Even craftier than normal, which is saying a lot, considering nothing makes me happier than sitting in my room in the basement with scissors, some stickers, and a piece of printed paper. Anyway, here's an inside view for funsies.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw0_TrSGclXKZR4uUH7OlM444Hw_RDQzdWRIYMc1ZZCEEAgZhyReNxtE_GwtEU7hJLDGY6_1xivYbIvd883htmcyVFGJSQsSJBo9fEjJZGZNEnusezxLK0T9H4rGpP2vei64ayP_gs3IPt/s1600/CIMG0430.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="352" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw0_TrSGclXKZR4uUH7OlM444Hw_RDQzdWRIYMc1ZZCEEAgZhyReNxtE_GwtEU7hJLDGY6_1xivYbIvd883htmcyVFGJSQsSJBo9fEjJZGZNEnusezxLK0T9H4rGpP2vei64ayP_gs3IPt/s400/CIMG0430.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Alrighty. Back to the Art Cave!!!Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06812830109269424808noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-448152950667896430.post-71835417577128557792011-05-22T21:47:00.000-07:002011-05-22T21:47:32.998-07:00Wonder Flower.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">No. Not like Wonder Woman. Although that would be pretty awesome.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="387" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTd7r6oBMvI0Dd1Q4O1cBEmplCrVQyrNiBlzA97bCIpLa_6fHQOC0E7MGBmonoVuBAeV99cDfT6_lPsMMHZTjGYslfLysPanmXVbpS2ix77N73UrMOt4ZlRZ7Pnx_367ogh4J7WTBEIOO2/s400/CIMG0372.JPG" width="400" /></div><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Definitely like Wonder-about-the-existential-qualities-of-life Flower. But that was too long for a title.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Being a 20 year old college student from Ohio, I obviously don't know what any of those things are. But I'm sure if I could speak plant (which I can't... I think) that this lovely little flower could tell me. Or maybe he's just holding a grudge because I have negligently killed many of his fellow Kingdom Plantae members. Oops. In the meantime, I'm going to go back to cleaning my basement and losing braincells to Hulu.</div>Alyssahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06812830109269424808noreply@blogger.com0