Holla.
It's not near a delicious as Aubrey's lens, but hey. I'm making progress in the nice camera equipment department.
And I saved like $100 by getting it from ksl.com
I am such a bargain shopper, I can't even stand it.
September 17, 2007
September 14, 2007
The time has come. Taylor has submitted his mission papers and now we are waiting.
Care to hazard a guess?
I'd offer a prize, but I can't guarantee anything.
So...please submit your answers and I shall announce the winner as soon as we know.
(I'll try to think of a good reward for the winner, but don't hold your breath.)
P.S. My guesses are Brazil, Argentina, Mexico, France, or Spain.
(I get a lot of guesses because, well, it's my blog.)
Care to hazard a guess?
I'd offer a prize, but I can't guarantee anything.
So...please submit your answers and I shall announce the winner as soon as we know.
(I'll try to think of a good reward for the winner, but don't hold your breath.)
P.S. My guesses are Brazil, Argentina, Mexico, France, or Spain.
(I get a lot of guesses because, well, it's my blog.)
The countdown begins!
Again.
In exactly 15 days I will be in Los Angeles, California. At exactly 8:00 pm, Pacific Standard Time, I will be at the Pantages Theater in Los Angeles, California. At exactly 8:00 pm, Pacific Standard Time in Los Angeles, California, I will be viewing Wicked, The Musical live.
Again.
Yes, it's true. You heard me correctly. I'm going AGAIN!
Mom, Dad, Taylor, and I are taking a happy-21st-birthday-to-Sam-let's-go-before-Taylor-leaves-on-his-mission excursion to So. Cal at the end of this month.
Six Flags, Wicked, the beach, cousin Jayson's homecoming, and much, much more are on the agenda.
I'm way excited.
AND, the countdown isn't near as long this time around.
Ok, what the crap is this?
Only the worst Photoshop mess ever!
I have never seen someone shaped like that in my whole life. (Except for maybe Giada, but that's a different story.)
What, pray tell, is glamorous about sticking alien arms onto a football player's shoulders and sticking that on a pre-pubescent Lindsay Lohan?
I don't get it.
Only the worst Photoshop mess ever!
I have never seen someone shaped like that in my whole life. (Except for maybe Giada, but that's a different story.)
What, pray tell, is glamorous about sticking alien arms onto a football player's shoulders and sticking that on a pre-pubescent Lindsay Lohan?
I don't get it.
September 13, 2007
I woke up with a cankle today.
The bandage I've had on my leg was apparently wrapped too tightly last night.
Every ounce of blood or fluid or whatever else there is liquidy in my leg has been pushed into my foot and ankle.
Not only does it look gross, it kinda hurts too.
Is this giving me a small glimpse into the wonders of pregnancy?
(When the time comes of course!)
The bandage I've had on my leg was apparently wrapped too tightly last night.
Every ounce of blood or fluid or whatever else there is liquidy in my leg has been pushed into my foot and ankle.
Not only does it look gross, it kinda hurts too.
Is this giving me a small glimpse into the wonders of pregnancy?
(When the time comes of course!)
September 09, 2007
Gross!
No, I don't mean the blinding whiteness I'm flashing at everyone. Although that's not a pretty sight either.
That's my leg! All my skin is gone!
These wounds tell the story of last weekend's adventures. I wanted to learn how to ride a motorcycle. I obviously didn't do so well.
(However, I maintain that it's not my fault. How was I supposed to know that there was a hand brake and a foot brake? How was I supposed to know that you're not supposed to turn on dirt and use the hand brake at the same time? How was I supposed to know that it could just slide right out from under you with no warning? Someone should have told me these important things!)
The red, fleshless, oozing sore is a burn from the engine. The purple-edged, yellowish-grey spot is where something hard poked me. That is one deep bruise. And, it's been eight days and I still look like this!
I didn't take photo's of the huge bruises on my thigh and arm. Or the gravel embedded in my palm. Or the road rash covering my everything.
Word to the wise. Practice a little more before trying to keep up with the men.
No, I don't mean the blinding whiteness I'm flashing at everyone. Although that's not a pretty sight either.
That's my leg! All my skin is gone!
These wounds tell the story of last weekend's adventures. I wanted to learn how to ride a motorcycle. I obviously didn't do so well.
(However, I maintain that it's not my fault. How was I supposed to know that there was a hand brake and a foot brake? How was I supposed to know that you're not supposed to turn on dirt and use the hand brake at the same time? How was I supposed to know that it could just slide right out from under you with no warning? Someone should have told me these important things!)
The red, fleshless, oozing sore is a burn from the engine. The purple-edged, yellowish-grey spot is where something hard poked me. That is one deep bruise. And, it's been eight days and I still look like this!
I didn't take photo's of the huge bruises on my thigh and arm. Or the gravel embedded in my palm. Or the road rash covering my everything.
Word to the wise. Practice a little more before trying to keep up with the men.
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