popular.

I don't like popular people. I just don't. It automatically takes them out of the running to be my friend. This is just the way I was born.

Do a lot of people like you? Then I can't. I will have to reserve my like for those who do not have tons of adoring fans.

...that is....unless...you already like me. Then I will like you. But only to the extent that you like me. And the second I sense I'm not liked? You are so off my like list. Unless I'm still on your like list.

This attitude keeps me in the clear. I don't ever have to fight for friends this way. I don't ever have to feel bad for not being popular this way. It's amazing how well it works. I can always be awesome, because I don't have to meet up with the demands of popularity. I've completely taken that component out of my life. It's not even a possibility, so I don't ever have to feel bad about having few friends - because the ones that I do have are qual.i.ty.

And I suspect that some of my friends are popular. I don't really have much proof. But I have my suspicions.

For example, one friend is very trendy. She has bangs, and blonde highlights and is one of the most fashionable people that I know. AND she wears makeup! And I just discovered that she goes dancing on Thursday nights. Yeah, I know. Shocking! I mean who actually goes out on a school/work night?

Another example? The other week, while I was reading the comments on a friends' blog, I became jealous. Absolutely, completely, back in high school, jealous. Why? Because not only were there people posting that I did not know, but they were declaring their undivided, eternal, dedication. Declaring immortal friendship. And, come on, even you've got to admit that is a really good hint that this person is completely popular.

But these are only suspicions. You know? And what amazing friends to keep their popularity from me. Rather than rubbing it in my face - they let me remain in a state of ignorant bliss and feel as if I'm just as important as their loving masses.

Plus - I get encouraging comments from one on my blog. And the other buys me circus peanuts. And then remembers to give them to me four months later. And then I eat the entire bag (except for 2) all in one day.

recapping the day.

Thoughts for the day:

• 9 pairs of underwear are not enough. In a matter of 24 hours, all 9 of Millie's went from clean to dirty.
  


• My new hair cut is a mix between Posh Spice and a male Hasidic Jew.
  


• I like puzzles.
  


• Clin should never be allowed to shower when I'm not home to watch the girls. Or, in other words, Ellis and ink pads do not mix.
  


• DVR has changed my life.
  


• While apple jack necklaces might keep Millie quiet for 30 minutes, I don't know that the hyperactivity caused by the half a bowl and then the half a necklace that ended up in her stomach were worth it.

stocking up.

Case lot sale! Tis the season. And this is my pile 'o' cases.

~Macaroni & Cheese

~Black Beans

~Cream of Chicken Soup

~Beef Broth

~Chicken Broth

~Vegetable Broth

~Tomato Soup

~Spaghettios

And just to be awesome - Albertsons kicked in free apple juice.

In a reassessment of my run on cases, I completely overdid it on the broth. So perhaps I will turn this into one of those food blogs. You know. Where I dedicate the next year to cooking everything with broth? Admit it. You would be the first to purchase advertising space. Wouldn't you.

April 3, 1992.

I kept a journal off and on from age 7 (1984) through high school. In an attempt to reminisce...understand myself....okay to come to terms with the 31 year old me, the following is a randomly chosen entry.

4/3/1992 (15 years old)

I was just reading over my journal enteries for this year. I sound stupid & boy crazy. I'm not really crazy. It is just that I feel good when I'm around guys. (I think it is because I act nicer when I'm around them!)

I didn't talk to Michael today - but I did talk to Angela alot. She is really nice. She likes Rick Humphrey & it's funny how things work out. At the track meet yesterday I felt as if Angela was paired with Rick & I with Michael. It would be cool if we double dated as soon as age 16 came along. Angela & I were talking to Rick. He said that Michael liked me! Angela was saying how cool it would be if we both double dated when we turned 16! All of a sudden Rick asked me if I skied. I said that I had been about 5 times, but I hadn't even seen snow once this year. Then Rick mentioned that Michael had taken him once. But he said it was expensive. I think that Rick was thinking of him, Angela, Michael, & me going skiing for a double date. That would be such a blast! I would feel stupid around Michael. He is a really good skier & I don't think he would want to wait for us 3 beginners. (I'm still going after my all new me goal!)

One thing I don't understand about Michael is - if their family is so rich, why does he wear not to great of clothes. He doesn't have any cute dress clothes or anything. Why not? I do kind of believe that guys with cute clothes look better! Maybe I'll get Rick to talk to him about it - I'm to embarassed to ask myself.

making a tutu. or, how my mom procrastinates: a photo essay by Millie.

I have had the materials for making 2 tutus for one entire year now. I got the great idea while we were at a mall, waiting for Clin to buy some soap or something. The babes and I looked over the edge of the second floor down to a kiosk that had pretty things for sale. Like tutus. The woman sitting at the booth was making a tutu - and it was sooooo easy. Tie a little tulle around some elastic and viola.

Within the month a sale at JoAnns had me purchasing tulle for cheap. That is when the word "easy" left me for my own. I purchased what looked like enough pink and purple tulle, but the lady cutting the tulle informed me that if I was making a tutu, I would need at least 2 more yards. Okay! I don't know you, but I trust you. I trust anyone who knows how to measure out a yard of tulle.

Brought the materials home, set them in the laundry basket on top of my other projects. You know, dusty photos and baby books waiting to be organized and scrapbooked. And there they were laid to rest for one year. Soon to be covered with cheap binders, pencils, school supplies, and unfolded sheets.

So the following is a photo essay, created by Millie, to document my search for the lost materials of the tutu.

Here I am contemplating opening the sewing machine. I decide against it, because I still have not searched for directions on threading a sewing machine. It's safer to start by gathering the materials.

The notorious laundry basket of procrastination. Notice the ShopKo and Offfice Depot bags of school supplies. A glimmer of pink tulle beckons.



Here it is! The tulle. And the purple totally looks blue here. But I promise, it's purple. $%$%!#% - me swearing at our lowsy camera.

I also purchased thread. Pink, white, and black. It was on sale and I didn't want to return to JoAnns. Ever. So I grabbed it. Although I think the only sewing this project requires involves connecting one end of elastic to the other. Maybe I'll do it by hand?

Elastic. Elastic? I know I purchased elastic. I stared at it in the store for hours, trying to decide what width and how long. There were way too many elastic choices. This is the moment of panic. The one where I realize I may have to return to the kingdom of JoAnn for more elastic.

Millie's finger.

Ahh, and my memory does not lie. The elastic is found. How happy am I?

guessing. again.

Here is clue #3. Can you read it? Me neither. It pretty much says to pack clothes to see a show and a light jacket in case of wind or rain.

So I'm thinking I should throw out a proper guess. Something that hits the heart of this. And then, in two more weeks, when all the clues have come in you will all wonder in awe at the fact that I was able to guess after only 3 clues.

We are totally going to Seattle to view a pre-broadway run of the new musical Shrek. And I'm right. Clin.

Oh. wait. I'm wrong. As I was putting the link in I noticed on their website that the pre-broadway run ends September 21. Okay. Good. Fine. I didn't want to fly in a plane anyway.

young.

To all the twenty year olds out there -

You aren't all that. Yeah, life may seem like it's layed out before you - a glossy movie of what you can become. And you think that you have your pick of it. Not tied down, skinny little wastes, long hair look alikes without the time to glance up at those around you. Nights on the town, days on the town, spending your money on beauty and Starbucks.

Have I offended all of the 20 yr olds yet? Let me try harder - let's target it to all of you idolizing those women in the rap videos who shake it to make it (money I mean)? Are you following the religion of Britney Spears, Lindsey Lohan, or Paris Hilton? Are you wishing you were America's Next Top Model and watching the MTV VMAs to see who is wearing what and whom? Are you wanting to go on Survivor so that you can become famous for your ability to wear a bikini on a deserted island?

I'll tell you right now your real future. Your real destiny. It's called old age. And, honestly, that's where the excitement is. So while you spend time on yourself and your secret little crush on the Jonas Brothers, take time to look up at those bent over in front of you. They out number you. And you will be there too. Soon. So instead of loathing the real future, learn to love it.

You can start by watching Young @ Heart. And to the rest of you - it might do you some good as well. It's awe.some. And every other adjective you can think of.

And by the end, instead of Britney - you will be dressing like Louise. One listen to Steve or Len and you'll be asking yourself, Jonas Brothers who?

Forget Paris, and follow Jeanne. Here is an example of what Jeanne and the Young @ Heart chorus can do:

patriotic.

Millie learned about our flag in preschool last week. Since then she's pointed it out periodically.

Friday we went swimming. Out front is a large flag pole. She looked up and said:

"Look. It's the American idol flag."

What fine parents we are. She is well on her way to pop culture mastery.

photo via jcolman

November 6, 1992.

I kept a journal off and on from age 7 (1984) through high school. In an attempt to reminisce...understand myself....okay to come to terms with the 31 year old me, the following is a randomly chosen entry.

11/6/92 (I was 15)

Zoned out MAJOR today. Extremely tired - I looked like a scrounge (really, really messy). I'm starting to feel comfortable around my friends again. I'm having trouble with becoming friends with my friends' friends. I feel like they despise me case I'm not outgoing. Something to work.

Stake play went really well tonight. Tomorrow I'll be at the Stake Center from 11:00 AM - 12 mid-night. We have to perform twice. I'll have 2 hours in between to eat and then write a talk for Sunday's sacrament meeting.

musing upon a tutu.

Today I had every intention of waxing poetic on the topic of tutus. After all I have made a promise. And then the day happened. And then the afternoon. And now it is evening and my mind hasn't once wandered to the topic of tutus. Although it did wander.

It wandered to Wal-Mart where I saved $20.00 in meat, thanks to price matching.

It wondered about Walgreens and how they pop up so quickly.

It functioned despite grading until 2:00 AM. Three days in a row. Without naps.

It became invisible at the opening drama club banquet, when asking Clin a question and he walked away both times. No answer. Teenagers called.

It disappeared as the same teenage boy walked into me twice. Even after I said excuse me. And sorry. And stared. But received no response in return.

It shut down listening to screams coming from the bathroom at home, and at the high school. And then woke up as Ellis gave Millie a hug on the toilet. all. to. stop. the. screams.

It forgot the last time it had some sitdown time with Clin.

It can't remember ever calling a church leader up and asking to be picked up two hours before an activity.

It stopped functioning a good ten minutes ago.

It apologizes for this post.

photo via *cora* (on vacation)

guessing that there's 3 weeks to go.

Clue #2 - and it tells me no.thing. Oh, wait. Yes it does. It tells me that my Mother is encouraging Clin. Not only encouraging, she's in collusion with him.

And now I have to be a slave to the guilt that comes from having my Mother travel through various states just to watch two small children for a purpose of which I'm still unaware.

So 3 guesses to go and I'm starting to think that my neighbor is right on. She threw out a guess that seems to fit Clin's conniving ways.

October 15, the day we leave, is opening day of hunting season. Did the lightbulb just hit you in the head too?

This is so us. I get it now. I have always wanted Clin to esteem to Elmer Fudd. Don't you see it? He is totally Fudd material.

So I think we're turning a new leaf - and perhaps decore? And maybe we will come back with a deer head or a stuffed rabbit, or something like that. And I know right where I will put it (above the piano), and maybe we will name it as well.

I'm sure that Clin has been stockpiling camping equipment in our crawl space. If I went down there now, I would probably find tents, orange vests, camoflauge pants, and it will become our new thing. Our bond.

Nice guess Kristy. I think you are right on.

in pain.

The past few days I have been standing up and the world spins around me. I just assumed that I needed to start taking my daily multi vit again.


And then my ear started to hurt. Pain. Real pain. Like 13 year old deep, percolating under the skin pain. Right at the entrance of my ear canal. You know, where you're not supposed to stick the q-tip in any further? Yes. Right there.


While my first instinct was to say cancer, or perhaps that my ear was preparing to shed it's skin - I know better. It's a sensation that I've felt before and my inner teen is telling me ZIT.


I've never experienced ear canal acne. Zitage so deep that popping is not an option.


So, fair warning. There is no way that the cover up is going in my ear. The only rational solution is to ignore me. Please. Don't even turn in my direction. And if you do happen to glance upon my ear? Act like you don't see a thing.


I mean, I'm out here acting like I'm not in pain. It's only fair.

entering a phase.

We have entered the preschool phase of life. Millie's first day was last week, and as I dropped her off, a few things struck me:

• Why do 3 year olds have backpacks? Every 3 year old carried a backpack...except for Millie. Have I already set her up to become "one of these things is not like the other"?
  
• These 3 year olds all look 2. Why are they so little, and tiny, and why are their backpacks larger than them?

Millie didn't seem concerned. A hug to my leg and she was off to play with the kitchen.

So I go home and there is an echo in the house. It hasn't been this quiet since April 9, 2005 - the day before Millie was born.

It was just me. And Ellis. What to do? So we had lunch. And then sat down to a few toys. Ellis wandered up stairs, and I turned to a bit of newspaper reading. After a few minutes she reappeared at the top of the stairs waving packages of condoms and laughing loudly. Ah. And while I picked up the trail, Ellis played patty-cake with the toilet water. I realized that with her walking has come a sense of freedom that extends beyond the floor and into drawers and cupboards.

Upon returning to preschool all of the children ran out to their parents. I'm looking for our little giant and not seeing her anywhere.

Teacher, Ms. Jennifer, says: Millie informed me that she is not done playing.

And getting her to leave was impossible. Even when including a bribe of chocolate milk.

July 17, 1991.

I kept a journal off and on from age 7 (1984) through high school. In an attempt to reminisce...understand myself....okay to come to terms with the 31 year old me, the following is a randomly chosen entry.

7/17/1991 (14 years old)

It's summer and I am officially out of school! No more middle school. Isn't it marvelous! I'll miss a few things of course. As a freshman in high school I probably won't see Jack Brighton, maybe not at all! I still like hime. He may not be my #1 any more.

I think Ben Seton is obnoxious, and irritating. But I'll give him credit for being nice! I don't like him like I used to! Things certainly change!

The thing I will miss most from middle school is my humanities class. It was our class for the smarter people at school. Even though I was only in it for 3 weeks it seemed like I had been in it since 7th grade. It was fun since I was already friends with most people in the class, so I didn't need to be aquainted with anyone new. The main people in the class were me, Cathy Yager, Fiona Turner, Krista Halverson, Rose Cromwell, Billy Telford, Ken Halliday, Rick Humphrey, Marc Dale, and Frankie James. Plus two great teachers, Mr. Lamb and Mrs. Peabody, made the class perfect!

We joked around and just had a blast! I'm gonna miss them! Next year there isn't a humanities class that we will be together in. I may not have any classes with them at all! Cathy Yager and Rose Cromwell moved away! It just wouldn't be the same!

I will miss my math class just as much. More of my friends were in this and I sometimes had a funner time in it than in humanities! Mr. Hicks is just an awesome teacher. Kelly, Julie, Christine, and Rebecca were in this class. Cathy, Fiona were also in it. Billy, Rick, and Marc were in our class. Other then the math it was a fun class. Next year we might end up in the same math class since over 1/2 of the class is going into honors geometry.

As a freshman I'll meet new friends, I may loose some old one's but I hope to keep as many as I can! I especially met some guys that I want to keep being their friends. Esp. Rick Humphrey, Ken Halliday, and Billy Telford. Esp., Esp., Esp. Billy Telford!

Just a little background on Billy and I! He's my next door neighbor. When we were little he and I were best of friends. We spent the night at each others houses, we invited each other to our birthday parties, we went exploring together we were in plays together. About 4th grade we fell apart. I had been in love. Till this year we didn't have any thing to do with each other. Then math class and humanities came up this year. We were both in each class. At first we fought, but deep inside I had fallen in love. I miss him.

I was talking to Krista the other day. I told her I liked him. She told me that she could tell that he liked me also. I think she was sincere, it was hard to believe. I wanted proof. She told me that there was something different in his voice when he talked to me. That whenever I was gone he would ask where I was. And when he looked at me he would stare or have a look of wanting to look longer. I was excited about this, now I have my doubt. But, maybe there is truth to the saying, Love is blind!

British.

Or at least sometimes I wish I was British. I've never been to England. But I've always thought that it looked lovely. And I like rain.

But when I hear one of the contestants on the British version of the Apprentice say, "Come and get your lillies here."

or

the two little children from Mary Poppins sing, "sorry nanny. Sincerely. Jane and Michael Banks." or something like that.

Then I begin to love everything British.

It's the accent. Completely wins me over every time.

So much so, that I thought it would be lovely to have my children speak with British accents. You know, kind of like the two children from the movie, The Holiday. Which is one reason for which I have Millie on a strict diet of Mary Poppins. All of the time. And you should hear her say Poppins. What? You would indeed like to hear her say Poppins? Well, I can accomodate that request.

Okay - so I lied. I can't get my video to link to this blog and thus cannot accomodate such a request. Unless...(lightbulb on) you come and visit. I have it saved on my computer. We can watch it together. Or, better yet, come over and Millie can do it for you in person.

On that note, I leave you with the next best thing:

guessing.

I looked in the mirror this morning and found this. (Apologies for the lousy photo - but my camera is what it is.) What does it mean?

Some of you might say: Ahhhh - how romantic. And you are right. It's romantic and exciting and great.

But there are ulterior motives here.

See, in the world of Clin and Jackie, vacationing trips never happen if I have knowledge of them. I tend to say things like, "Oh, let's spend that money on a camera so the next time you surprise me I can take a picture of it and the blogging masses will be able to comprehend what it says." Or I might say, "How about a dryer? Or put it towards a move? Or a will? Or a mini-van?"

And he knows that we will never go anywhere. Ever. So by secretly planning a trip, we both get a bit of excitement. And practical me just worries about who will take the kids? Or maybe they will go with us? And will we be taking a plane? And will I be packing? How? For what climate? And my list goes on, and on...

So let's all work together to get it out of him. I don't have any guesses. Do you?

can, can, canning!

In the spirit of Peach days - my Mom-in-law took me under her wing and agreed to mentor me in the art of canning.

Here you can see Alana mentoring me in the art of filling a pitcher of water.

And while I originally thought that I might try a box on my own, I'm never one to turn away help. So canning peaches was not the fiasco I originally intended it to be. I did not become frustrated. Nor did I: swear under my breath, knock my hard work over and watch as it slowly broke across the floor, burn/slice my hand, or any of the other crazy things that came into mind as I envisioned adventures in canning.

Here we see an example of my work. On the left is my first jar of peaches. In the time that it took me to do this one jar, Alana whipped out the 6.5 that you see on the right.

In the end what did I gain? A bit of a tired back, sticky hands, an overall sense of fatigue, and 21 perfectly canned bottles 'o' peaches.

counting votes.

Thank you to all who voted. And a big thank you to those who took it easy on me.

The results are as follows:

1. Make 2 tu-tu's - 33.3%
2. Can a box of peaches - 28.6%
3. Run - 23.8%
4. Sale something on Ebay - 9.5%
5. Make a Halloween Costume - 4.8%

So hold on and get ready for a bit 'o' excitement. In the next week or so we will create some tu-tu's.

celebrating.

So this is what 33 looks like. And to celebrate we had a crazy weekend.

As an extremely organized spouse, I've been planning this celebration for months. We started it out with the DVR surprise and then only increased the craziness from there.

On Friday, I pulled something unimagineable out. I mowed, and edged the entire lawn. This from a woman who has not been able to start the lawn mower since she broke her arm in March. (Starter fluid really works. Thanks Dad!) And while it took me all morning - it was done and complete by the time spousy got home.

Then we suitcased up, threw the clan in the car and headed north. To McDonalds. Millie exercised on the slides while the rest of us gained weight.

3 hours later we were in...Perry! At the In-Laws. They love a party - and we brought one that included a 3 year old who refuses to sleep when grandparents are around.

Saturday - we ventured out for a Parade at Peach days! We didn't see any peaches in the parade, but we did see:

and then my camera died. And none of my batteries worked. So I didn't get to take a picture of the 80 year old man who ran a 5k. Or the float that was just a large truck that said Autoliv. Or the float that included a refrigerator and a large banner of a cow.

I do love parades and I love being reminded that I detest pageants and the fact that women and babies are shoved into dresses, makeup, curls, and cars just to wave to me. But that could and should be a different post.

I also like being reminded that free candy rocks. Isn't that the best part of parades? Showers of candy? But alas, not one piece was to be had. So Millie became much more interested in the open canal right behind us and it just reminded me of the open sewers back in Madagascar.

Our Peach Day festivities ended with Navajo Tacos, and fried peach balls.

And just to tie that sweet birth day up with a bow - Clin and I went out on a night on the town. Painted Perry red. Okay, we just ended up at the movies. As usual. And not one movie interested me. But I sucked it up, threw my personal interests in the closet and slammed that door, and saw a boy comedy. I sipped my Diet Soda and chomped down my bucket of popcorn. And hubby laughed.

partyin'.

Clin - Happy 33rd!

May 6, 1986.

I kept a journal off and on from age 7 (1984) through high school. In an attempt to reminisce...understand myself....okay to come to terms with the 31 year old me, the following is a randomly chosen entry.

5/6/1986 (9 years old)

Today I got out of bed. I practiced the piano for a half an hour. then I got dressed and did my chore. I went to the ketchen and made hot chocolate wall my mom was making scones. I sat down and my mom gave me ascone. I ate breakfast and went to Jen's house. she was going to take her puppe (scooter) to school so we rode in [her mom's] car. We got to school and I sat down looked at my bofreind Max Rhine and got to work. I had to help my friend Rebecca Mill with reading. We had to make a code machine. I finished it right before recess

we had recess than an hour of work than lunch and recess than two hours of school. at 2:00 we got out I went home had after school snack witch was a scone and played my piano songs 1 time. Than I went with my little brother Nathat to Jen's house we played with scooter than I went home cause I had to go to piano lessons I was real good.

I went home and my mom fixt (to continue turn to next page on back) dinner. Our dinner was hot dogs, Brochole, and french fries. my mom had to go to my sisters consert so I babysited Nathan and Kyle. I had home work it was I had to tear out as many cigarett ads because were studying drugs. I managed to get 40 cigarett ad's. then I watched the price is wright, danger mouse, banana man, who's the Boss and growing panies. Then I went to bed.

The reason Im making so many mistakes is I'm wrighting in pen.

By the way today just for fun I made a peom it goes like this,

Mothers

Mothers work every day - sometimes on Easter day.

So next time If your Mother works on Mothers day do something for her next mothers day.

How do you like it.

answer: ________________________________________________

by Jackie Summeres.

addicted. completely.

trouble shooting.

I can't get the video/audio to work on the post I've been trying to publish. And it drives me nuts.

Millie licked my forehead this morning.

Ellis drew marker on her nose and pooped.

The new remote came today. But I was supposed to send it back with Mr. UPS and didn't get to the door in time. I can't call DISH TV because my name is not on the account.

I called DISH on Tuesday with questions about getting a DVR for Clin for his birthday. You know - just price questions, etc. In the course of the day I called a few times. And they told me how much we were paying monthly, a breakdown of what it all meant. Allowed me to order a new remote, cancel a warranty, order a DISH (for a great deal - thanks to Kyle for pushing to go with it), sign up for special deals all under the name of Clin. Then yesterday the DISH techs came and put the new unit in, which came with a remote.

So I proceeded to call to say - stop! Do not send the remote.

I called two times. Both times I was met with - sorry. We can not give you any information about that account. You are not the account holder.

WHAT!? Less than 24 hours ago you allowed me to cancel, order, and order some more. I don't want information. I want you to cancel the remote you are sending.

I'm sorry - This has always been our policy.

WHAT!? Less than 24 hours ago.....

And then they proceeded to tell me that I could have my husband call and put my name on the account. Well, I'll tell you what you can put on your lousy account. And I was ready to cry and hang up and yell. And I was so angry that they would pull me in, make me feel like a valued customer and then cut me off. Just like that. And my feelings were hurt.

So now I have the remote. And I don't want to get in trouble. And I don't want to have to end up paying for it. And I don't know how to return a package through UPS, when Mr. UPS has already left. And I can't call to ask.

So I'm now going to take the girls to Target, eat an unhealthy lunch - purchase nail polish (which I vowed never to have in my home except for nylon runs) for Millie because she earned enough pooping on the toilet stickers to go to the store and pick out her very own nail polish color. And what have I turned into? A bribing mother, whoring my values for some order.

quoting words of wisdom.

We had another victory in the 2008 war of the toilet vs. 3 year old bowel control. And the reward?

A personal viewing of:

And while I worked throughout the majority of the film. I did catch a line or two and thought I would pass along these words of wisdom.

King Triton (solemnly chiding Ariel): A princess does not tickle another princess with seaweed.

saying, "choose your own adventure."

I love my readers so much, that I want you to have a say in my blogging destiny.

That's right - choose your own adventure. Since so many in the blogging world are inspirational, I've decided to make a list of first time activities that will inspire you too. And you get to decide which one you would like to see me do.

1. Make 2 Tu-Tu's for the girls - this will be more exciting than it seems. I don't even know how to thread my sewing machine.
   
2. Train and run a marathon. Okay, let's be realistic. How about one week (6 days, as even God will allow me one day off) of 5 AM runs.
   
3. Can 1 box of peaches...on my own. That's right. First time canner here. Excitement will ensue.
   
4. Sale something on EBay. First time EBayer - in fact I've never even been on their website.
   
5. Make 1 lousy princess Halloween costume...on my own.

The poll will be up for one week. What will be my destiny?

Online Surveys & Market Research

photo via ....Tim

making friends.

I've never been great at making friends. I'm a bit awkward, cling to those I already know, and observe/listen before jumping in. But all of that is changing. I have found a place where I can make friends without leaving the comfort of my habits. Where, you ask?

The world of blogging. That's right. I have millions of friends. Automatic friends. They need me. They want me. And I don't even have to talk to them.

I can be inspired, cry, laugh, and feel like I am intimate with a group of people. I can read all about others and know that I am a part of what's going on.

The best part? I don't have to comment to feel like I have friends. People open up to me no matter whether or not I post. You want an unconditional friend? Read a blog.

I've taken it to such a level that last week, upon finding this post, I took the bread machine out of the pantry and made bread. For the first time since we lived in our Provo apartment 8 years ago! Yes. I made bread. And it tasted good. And I'm not the only one who ate it. The other 3 did too. And liked it.

See what the blogging world can do for you?