Why, it's right here, of course! Check out the draft of the wedding map I just made using Google Maps and Paint.net
Dec 17, 2009
Jul 27, 2009
Wedding Whoas
Don't fret, I don't think I've started a horrendous theme of punny titles. I can't make any promises, but for now it is not a plan.
I feel like updating my sole follower (who I'm pretty sure is my mother) on my wedding plans (even though she is intimately aware of these details).
What I currently have:
The ceremony site.
Mercersburg Academy Chapel. This was pretty much a given, practically decided since before I even met Mike. Luckily for our future marriage, Mike is on board with the chapel ("cathedral" is a better word, really).
The reception site.
Mercersburg American Legion. This is somewhat tentative... we're on their calendar but not 100% committed. Our guest list might get a little too large for the space. It's a good setting and cleans up nicely, comfortable and not too stuffy.
An officiant.
I say "an" instead of "the" because he doesn't want us to commit until he's met with Mike and me, but I think we'll end up going with him. He can offer a nice blend of ceremony, storytelling, and I think can generally give us a happy and momentous wedding.
Little details
Wedding colors (clover green, white, daisy yellow accents), honeymoon intentions (Manuel Antonio beach in Costa Rica), Save the Date cards and more
Maybes: Photographer, Wedding Gown
Found very promising candidates for each of the above, just sleeping on them for... a week or so.
Left to do
Oh so much. Biggies include finding a DJ, florist, and bridesmaids dresses. More small details than I care to think about right now.
I suppose that satisfies my inexplicable need to update my nonexistant audience on wedding details. Huzzah?
Jun 1, 2009
¿401 qué?
Well, there it is. My first day of full-time, salaried, grown-up work is complete. I don't really have a lot to say about it. It was a tiring day, beginning at 6:15am... a schedule I suppose I'll get used to.
The most memorable moment of the day was going to Human Resources to discuss health insurance plans and 401K options for the first time in my life. That was pretty much when it hit me that I'm entering a whole new phase of my life. Also, for some reason I had completely forgotten about 401K's. I was doing fine with the HR director's explanations of the different insurance programs, but once she started talking about investment opportunities my eyes started to glaze over. If that seems a tad ironic, I should remind you that I didn't study investing as part of my Economics education. Not really my interest area.
In other news, I've been assigned to Chicago as a secondary region (my primary regions being Pittsburgh and South Central PA), meaning I theoretically get to fly to Chicago for parties and phone-a-thons that I organize.
The thought of getting up tomorrow and doing it all over again seems a little bizarre. I'm already looking forward to the weekend.
May 13, 2009
Check it out!
They put the winning theses on the Econ department web page, along with the awkward picture of the three of us from the department end-of-year party. If you like reading 30+ pages of boring, click away.
In other, much more wonderful and exciting news, Mike flies in tomorrow (today now technically being Thursday), as do my maternal grandmother and uncle. Thus begins a weekend of commencement activities and collisions of worlds. The latter is always extremely interesting to watch, so perhaps it will make up for the hours of speeches we will have to endure during the former.
And now, I adjourn to begin reading Twilight. Only to see what all the fuss is about. I did so with Harry Potter and was not disappointed; however I am currently allowing for the possibility that this may be the worst book I'll ever read.
Quickly, the teenage angst awaits!
Feb 11, 2009
Oh goodness.
Here is a thing that I wrote when I was young. Maybe 14-ish. I... have no other explanation.
How to Have a Cow
Isn’t the phrase: “When she hears this, she’ll have a cow” a little…odd? Most certainly, it raises a few uncomfortable questions: “How does the shock of the statement induce birth, or for that matter, pregnancy?”, “If the person is already pregnant, was it a cow before or after the statement?”, “If before…WHAT WAS THAT LADY DOING??”, “Is it even a LADY??” Of course, all of these questions (save the very last, obviously—unless we’re discussing seahorses, and that raises even more questions), all these go out the window if we’re talking about cows.
But…cows are extremely boring, nothing phases them…what string of words could possibly be upsetting enough for a cow to suddenly give birth to another cow? That’s even ignoring the impossibility of bovine speech. (“Shut up, cows!! I’m trying to write!” “*MOOOO*”)
Besides, wouldn’t a just-born cow be referred to as a “calf”? Giving birth to a “cow” (the term suggesting that it’s fully-grown) must be very—draining. A human would look as if they were having centuplets.
Now, let’s consider the long-term effects of a humanoid giving birth to a cow, (full-grown or calf, male or female parent factors aside). Is birth control really an option? What would you say at the clinic: “I have an unwanted bovine fetus, can you help me out?” Doing so would inevitably cause more cow births, from the receptionist as well as passersby.
Birthplaces are an issue, too. You can’t exactly go to a hospital. Quiet, understanding midwives are hard to come by, as well. Unless you’re a farmer (which could explain how you got in this whole mess in the first place), how do you explain the sudden presence of a cow in your backyard? Landlords don’t tend to appreciate pets, much less ones who’ll chew the Astroturf and leave pies of a different sort. You couldn’t get rid of it in any way—your ma/paternal instincts wouldn’t allow you to let Baby Bovine go.
Raising Jr. could be decidedly difficult. There’s all those uncomfortable questions (after considerable research, pinching myself, and heated debates with cows about the U.S. monetary system, I’ve reformed my previous position on the existence of Bovine speech):
“Why are my siblings human?”
“Can’t I go to school?”
“Can I go out with Bessie?”
“What’s beef and why is it in your freezer?”
The “Birds & Bees” discussion would be decidedly different.
Now that you understand the consequences and difficulties of having a cow, here’s how (more or less):
First, you’ll need to make the most obnoxious kid in the neighborhood to spend the day with you. Since he’s the town loudmouth, just let him talk and something’s bound to come out eventually.
It’s difficult to actually plan for a cow (deciding you even want one’s a toughie), since the Shocking Statement must be a complete surprise and deeply disturbing. Only the most horrible will do, so be careful what you wish for…
Don’t worry about maternity clothing or Lamaze training. Having a cow causes no enlargement of the midsection, and delivery is almost instantaneous. (If you find that this deeply contradicts my previous statement of looking as if you’re going to have centuplets, go to my continuity website: http://www.toomuchtimeonyourhands.com/pickyandanal.html)
Jr. should appear magically in your arms and nudity is optional. “Eating for two” is not necessary, but a good excuse.
Miscarriages have been known to occur. Generally, this is caused by an insufficiently disturbing remark, such as winning the lottery, or discovering that all of Afghanistan has been turned into Apricot jelly, which isn’t disturbing at all. In this case you should kick Obnoxious Oscar out of your house with the stuffed penguin (donning a mauve tutu and matching turban) resultant of the miscarriage, saying,
“Is that the best you can do, you twit?!” A Bruce Lee-inspired kick is recommended.
If all goes well and you’ve actually lost your job or unknowingly bought a $500K sports car on your Diner’s Club Card, you should have a semi-beautiful cow. Shiny and new are guarantees that simply can’t be made. From here, I suggest investing in some REAL agricultural resources, instead of this load of bull crap (literally).
Remember, if you can’t conceive, it really is your fault.
How to Have a Cow
Isn’t the phrase: “When she hears this, she’ll have a cow” a little…odd? Most certainly, it raises a few uncomfortable questions: “How does the shock of the statement induce birth, or for that matter, pregnancy?”, “If the person is already pregnant, was it a cow before or after the statement?”, “If before…WHAT WAS THAT LADY DOING??”, “Is it even a LADY??” Of course, all of these questions (save the very last, obviously—unless we’re discussing seahorses, and that raises even more questions), all these go out the window if we’re talking about cows.
But…cows are extremely boring, nothing phases them…what string of words could possibly be upsetting enough for a cow to suddenly give birth to another cow? That’s even ignoring the impossibility of bovine speech. (“Shut up, cows!! I’m trying to write!” “*MOOOO*”)
Besides, wouldn’t a just-born cow be referred to as a “calf”? Giving birth to a “cow” (the term suggesting that it’s fully-grown) must be very—draining. A human would look as if they were having centuplets.
Now, let’s consider the long-term effects of a humanoid giving birth to a cow, (full-grown or calf, male or female parent factors aside). Is birth control really an option? What would you say at the clinic: “I have an unwanted bovine fetus, can you help me out?” Doing so would inevitably cause more cow births, from the receptionist as well as passersby.
Birthplaces are an issue, too. You can’t exactly go to a hospital. Quiet, understanding midwives are hard to come by, as well. Unless you’re a farmer (which could explain how you got in this whole mess in the first place), how do you explain the sudden presence of a cow in your backyard? Landlords don’t tend to appreciate pets, much less ones who’ll chew the Astroturf and leave pies of a different sort. You couldn’t get rid of it in any way—your ma/paternal instincts wouldn’t allow you to let Baby Bovine go.
Raising Jr. could be decidedly difficult. There’s all those uncomfortable questions (after considerable research, pinching myself, and heated debates with cows about the U.S. monetary system, I’ve reformed my previous position on the existence of Bovine speech):
“Why are my siblings human?”
“Can’t I go to school?”
“Can I go out with Bessie?”
“What’s beef and why is it in your freezer?”
The “Birds & Bees” discussion would be decidedly different.
Now that you understand the consequences and difficulties of having a cow, here’s how (more or less):
First, you’ll need to make the most obnoxious kid in the neighborhood to spend the day with you. Since he’s the town loudmouth, just let him talk and something’s bound to come out eventually.
It’s difficult to actually plan for a cow (deciding you even want one’s a toughie), since the Shocking Statement must be a complete surprise and deeply disturbing. Only the most horrible will do, so be careful what you wish for…
Don’t worry about maternity clothing or Lamaze training. Having a cow causes no enlargement of the midsection, and delivery is almost instantaneous. (If you find that this deeply contradicts my previous statement of looking as if you’re going to have centuplets, go to my continuity website: http://www.toomuchtimeonyourhands.com/pickyandanal.html)
Jr. should appear magically in your arms and nudity is optional. “Eating for two” is not necessary, but a good excuse.
Miscarriages have been known to occur. Generally, this is caused by an insufficiently disturbing remark, such as winning the lottery, or discovering that all of Afghanistan has been turned into Apricot jelly, which isn’t disturbing at all. In this case you should kick Obnoxious Oscar out of your house with the stuffed penguin (donning a mauve tutu and matching turban) resultant of the miscarriage, saying,
“Is that the best you can do, you twit?!” A Bruce Lee-inspired kick is recommended.
If all goes well and you’ve actually lost your job or unknowingly bought a $500K sports car on your Diner’s Club Card, you should have a semi-beautiful cow. Shiny and new are guarantees that simply can’t be made. From here, I suggest investing in some REAL agricultural resources, instead of this load of bull crap (literally).
Remember, if you can’t conceive, it really is your fault.
Jan 29, 2009
Look, it's a blog
I've been thinking about doing this for a while now. I really enjoyed blogging about my semester abroad in Costa Rica, and thought it might be nice to continue the practice back here in the good ol' U.S. of A. I put it off for various reasons (perceived lack of material and external interest, namely) and have finally decided to procrastinate no more.
Blogging from Costa Rica was a great way to keep my friends and family informed about my life without feeling like I was forcing them to be informed. It seemed to work, which was remarkable given how terrible I am at keeping in touch. With so many changes about to happen in my life (graduating from college, getting a job, getting married, and moving west--in that order) , it seems prudent to resurrect the blog. I figured I had better set it up now before things get crazy and I lose the motivation.
A sidenote: some of you may wonder as to the meaning of the blog URL. "Pickles and bleu" refers to a rather disgusting sandwich that I loved to make when I was about 4 or 5. I would place 6 dill pickle slices (the kind you put on hamburgers) on a piece of bread, cover the pickles in bleu cheese salad dressing, and top it off with a second piece of bread. I think I thought I was being creative, when in actuality I was slowly creating a deep fear of cooking with every disgusting sandwich.
So there you have it! Expect anecdotes, trivial and important; updates, brief and lengthy; and pictures; poorly drawn and photographed. All tempered with a certain smug tone and a dash of egocentrism.
Dear Alan Rickman,
I probably refer to you as Liam Neeson about three times a day, on average. I apologize for the mix-up. The real Liam Neeson has starred in such films as Schindler's List but thanks to me, several people are now under the impression that Mr. Neeson was also Professor Snape in Harry Potter and That Guy with the Head Thing and the Hammer in Galaxy Quest. Sadly, despite my recognition of this problem I am very likely to continue this pattern after a week's time, fully believing that I have corrected my error. My sincerest apologies. Oh, and if you see them, could you pass along my regrets to Tony Hawk, Lance Armstrong, Wayne Gretsky and Larry Bird, whom I cannot mentally picture as anything but identical, very athletic quadruplets (who may be third cousins with Bill Gates)?
Love,
Tammy
= 
?
Love,
Tammy
= ?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)