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Laura Margaret

May 27, 2007 at 9:20 pm | Posted in family, Video | 10 Comments

During my second year of nursing school our professor gave us a quiz. I breezed through the questions until I read the last one: “What is the first name of the woman who cleans the school?” Surely this was a joke. I had seen the cleaning woman several times, but how would I know her name? I handed in my paper, leaving the last question blank. Before the class ended, one student asked if the last question would count toward our grade. “Absolutely,” the professor said. “In your careers, you will meet many people. All are significant. They deserve your attention and care, even if all you do is smile and say hello.” I’ve never forgotten that lesson. I also learned her name was Dorothy.

~Joann C. Jones



Today we celebrated Laura’s graduating. She now has a Master’s Degree in nursing. She’s done with everything, no more studying or paper writing or dissertations, and now all she needs to do is walk across her stage. So let us raise a glass to Laura.



You’ve come a long way, baby girl.  We are all so proud.

Nikon Picture Town

May 25, 2007 at 9:40 pm | Posted in Photographs | 8 Comments

(Did you hear about this? Nikon gave 200 people in Georgetown South Carolina the new Nikon D40 to try on for size. This cool experiment both promoted the camera and turned up some pretty neat pictures.)

I figured maybe I’ll write to Nikon. It would go something like this:

Dear Nikon,

PLEASE give me a camera, too! I’m dying here with my digital SLR in shambling unusable condition. I promise I’ll promote you in any way possible. I’m loyal. I don’t even mind that my shutter on my Nikon d70s broke after a mere two years of use, I will still buy your cameras. Since I’ve given you thousands of dollars over the years, can’t you find it in your heart to throw in a free camera or two?



Think it’ll work?

I didn’t photograph this moment

May 24, 2007 at 7:58 pm | Posted in Sean-ism | 6 Comments

The scene: Sean and I are both butt naked. I am crouched on the closed toilet seat and he is sitting in our empty bathtub. I am cutting his hair. Usually we are clothed in our makeshift hair salon, but since it’s been so friggin hot today and we planned on showering, we stripped for the hair cut. Sean is sweating so much that his newly trimmed hair is sticking to his back.

Sweetie, you are sexy, I say with extra emphasis on the X. I come off sounding like a southern belle who has had too much whiskey.

He answers: I am fat and sweating like a stuck pig.

He’s lucky I didn’t laugh hard enough to accidentally shave off one of his ears.

Found video

May 23, 2007 at 7:26 am | Posted in Video | 8 Comments

Ummm.  Two words:  Meaghan is on crack.


May 22, 2007 at 7:28 pm | Posted in Employment | 8 Comments

I’m wearing a wrist brace. The reason for this silly implement is that I lifted over a thousand pounds of pool chemicals today – in increments of 30 and 50 lbs, not all at once – and I tweaked a muscle in my left wrist. I’m not happy about such a silly injury. The tweak is sending other tweaks down my arm and to my elbow; my elbow is also not happy about it. But I did my best to keep schlepping my workload because I earn my nine dollars an hour. Hell, if I lost a finger at this job I’d probably pull out my lighter to cauterize the wound and keep on moving.

I can’t even count the number of times I nearly quit this temp job today. I mean, seriously, I applied for an office position. If I wanted a hard labor job for almost no money I would have stayed a landscaper.

Some of you have left comments stating that I am a hard worker. This is only half true. I am a hard worker only because I don’t have the balls to stick up for myself.

For instance: 4:55 today I was patiently waiting for those last five minutes of the day to crawl by so that I could finally hop in my car and head through rush-hour traffic to see my love. He would be in the living room, waiting patiently for that “Hi sweetie, how was your day?” hug, and I would forget the assness of work. We’re in love like that, we still rush home to see each other.

The boss looks at the clock. 4:56. Says, “You can work until six tonight instead of five”, and from now on start work a half hour later and reduce your hour-long lunch to 30 minutes.

And instead of sticking up for myself, stating that I simply cannot work weekends AND a whole hour later every day, I get back to my lifting and cleaning and customer servicing.

I don’t have the balls to tell him that my love is home waiting for me. That his sudden ‘change of plans’ practically tears my heart out. He’s taking away my quality time with Sean, and I sit back and take it.

I work hard because I am a wuss. But believe you me, I stew in those feelings of feeling lesser than the boss, working too hard for too little money, wondering when I’m finally going to get paid my worth.

Sean accepted his new general manager position today. He got the job. And although I am so incredibly proud of him, I am wondering when my break will come. But if anyone works hard in this family, it is Sean, and I am so thankful that his bosses acknowledge it.

A Joke for you bloggers in America

May 21, 2007 at 7:14 pm | Posted in silly pants | 6 Comments

The population of this country is 300 million.
160 million are retired.
That leaves 140 million to do the work.
There are 90 million in school.
Which leaves 50 million to do the work.
Of this there are 35 million employed by the federal government.
Leaving 15 million to do the work.
2.8 million are in the armed forces preoccupied with killing Osama Bin-Laden.
Which leaves 12.2 million to do the work.
Take from that total the 10.8 million people who work For state and city Governments.
And that leaves 1.4 million to do the work.
At any given time there are 188,000 people in hospitals.
Leaving 1,212,000 to do the work.
Now, there are 1,211,998 people in prisons.
That leaves just two people to do the work.
You and me.
And there you are,
Sitting on your ass,
At your computer, reading jokes.
Nice. Real nice.


May 21, 2007 at 1:55 pm | Posted in Employment, fish | 4 Comments

I am waiting for an important call.

Thanks to the 21st century and the luxury of having a cell phone, this waiting allows me to go about my usual day rather than sitting at home contemplating whether or not the landline will ring. However, I find myself sitting at home anyway just in case my trusty Verizon Wireless phone happens to ring while I’m waiting in line at a department store.

I picture the scenario of the phone ringing in the middle of a transaction, forcing me to throw my credit card at the clerk and telling her to Keep it. This call is important.

This call is a phone interview for a new job. A new prospective. A job that pays way more money than the post office, and offers benefits. Benefits. I don’t even know how it feels to have my own insurance. This would mean that I could actually go to the dentist regularly, or see a doctor without worrying that I’ll be dishing out hundreds of dollars.

Hold on, the phone is ringing.


Well, that went well. I guess. I now have a ‘real-life’ interview for next Tuesday.

<stress level decreases>

I was so nervous when the woman called me. I had swarms of butterflies. I paced around the living room. I wondered if the woman on the other end of the phone could feel my sweaty palms.


Now that I no longer have to wait for the phone to ring, I have a confession to make.

I am a fish addict.

I went to the pet store this morning to buy some driftwood for my sucker fish. And to my amazement, all of the aquariums were on sale. You have no idea how hard it was for me to buy that small piece of aquatic wood for $3.99 and walk out without a new tank. You might as well lock an alcoholic in a store that is giving away free beer.

The real test comes later when I tell Sean that they are offering 5-gallon tanks for $30. Let’s see if he can convince me that that hypothetical free beer they are selling is really liquid draino and honestly?  we don’t need another fish tank.

Busy Weekend

May 20, 2007 at 8:08 pm | Posted in Friends | 4 Comments


Meg slept over. She didn’t get here until 11, but we stayed up extra late doing girl things like trying on dresses and giving each other facials.


My boss called in the morning and told me I could have the day off from work, so Meg and I went shopping. Later in the day, Brie came over and we all went to see Meaghan’s concert.

Here’s a short clip of her incredible concert:


Today Brie, Sean, and I went letterboxing at the old Newgate prison. We ended up on the wrong hiking trail and found ourselves walking miles on a poison ivy mosquito ridden path. In all, I pulled eleven (11!) ticks off of my legs. Brie had four. But ticks and bug bites aside, it was really fun. We went out for wings, beer, and jagermeister shots afterwards.

If you’ve got seven minutes to kill, watch the movie I made for Brie last night:

What a weekend. I love hanging out with my best girlfriends.

[Update on Sean’s job interview: he did fantastic. Sean’s boss’ boss’ boss said he would recommend him for the position. Sweeet! This means double the money he’s making now and hopefully a house in the next year or two. Who wants to come to our housewarming party? You bring the beer.]

Ready set interview.

May 17, 2007 at 7:33 pm | Posted in Sean | 11 Comments

My sweetheart has a huge interview tomorrow.  Wish him luck!

You need this rant

May 17, 2007 at 5:55 pm | Posted in Agitated, Employment, Uncategorized | 8 Comments

Today was a grade-A shitty day. The optimistic side of me says, wait a minute, it’s only 6:30, maybe it will improve. The sane part of me thinks that enough fecal matter has been dropped on today that nothing, aside from a newly appointed engagement ring or a giant bowl of heath bar-filled ice cream, could make today better.

I woke up late. Seriously? I can’t remember the last time I did that. I was twenty minutes late for work and my bosses were taking bets as to what had happened to me: she quit because of your yelling, her car broke down, she’s drunk. If those two sweet loud elderly bosses of mine knew me at all they would know that these scenarios are simply impossible. I am not easy to scare off (unless you hit me), I drive a nice new CR-V that can’t break down because it is a Honda, and I rarely drink. I simply was enjoying the dream that I was having and had to finish it before real life kicked me awake.

Since my bosses didn’t really seem to care that I was late, I spent the rest of the day wallowing in ex-Catholic guilt about how terrible a person I am to value those few minutes of sleep over my job. So thanks to Jesus, I kissed their ass for the rest of the day to make up for my downfalls. I took a short lunch, waited in a ridiculous line at the post office to buy them 41¢ stamps, and repaired all of their pool filters. I let them yell at me on occasion, and didn’t complain when I cut three of my fingers.

And then the cloudy rainy wet weather came. And suddenly everything that could make me sad in the world mixed itself in those raindrops and made me feel like crying for absolutely no reason at all except that I am a failure and I once called my professor “dude” and there are people starving in this world while I own a 5lb container of macaroni salad.

And then there was the traffic, and the lady at the gas station who gave me the wrong brand of cigarettes. And when I went to take my first shower of the day, covered in grease and dirt and crushed diatomaceous earth from the filters, my roommate turned on the washing machine and the shower water spewed cold remnants of heat.

And the moral of all of this bitching is this: I feel fine now that I’ve written it all down. How silly it was of me to think that my life was over because I had a stupid day. This is why blogging is cool, people. This macaroni salad is damn good.

Tell me how your day was.

A Sean-ism

May 16, 2007 at 7:09 am | Posted in Sean-ism | 7 Comments

Since I think he’s funny, and some of you have expressed that you think he is funny also, I am going to start up a new category called a “Sean-ism” to share the silly things my silly boyfriend says.

While walking into JoAnn Fabrics to buy a stamp:

“This is not really a dude store, sweetie, should I leave my balls at the door?”

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