Re: Shows
No matter where I stand at a show, the tallest person(s) in the room will come and stand right in front of me.
Re: Country music
It's alive and well in Harrisburg, PA. Yeeha ya'll!
Re: NYC
I think I'm okay that 1. I don't live there and 2. I probably never will
Re: Boys' Morning Appetites
I never knew boys were so boring about their breakfast omelettes! Robbey bought mushrooms, onions, cheese, tomato, avocado, and shrimp. And what did we end up cooking for four other boys?
1. "Just cheese" (not acceptable)
2. "Turkey and cheese" (not acceptable)
3. "Mushrooms, onions, and cheese" (acceptable)
4. "Whatever" (acceptable)
Re: El Rodeo Restaurant in Harrisburg, PA
A pitcher of margaritas + "Mariachi" chanting and trying to sing a song you don't know with someone else = Muy caliente!
Re: Poker
My mind can only take about a half hour's worth of play and then I go all in on a Queen/Five because I just can't think anymore.
Re: Darts
If you don't want your wall punctured, don't ask me to play darts.
Re: Robbey
1. I am not sure I know another boy with so many close friends
2. He is the most consistent person I know; the same to everyone no matter who they are
3. He is quick to forgive and to love
Re: Me
1. I am overly critical of people
2. I like to think my way is the best way and therefore do #1
3. In reality, I have no idea what's going on and therefore should not take part in #1 or #2
Re: Drives to and from PA
Generally, they aren't bad; in this past Sunday's case, they can be largely therapeutic and grounds for needed introspection. Also, drinking four beers before I left could have had something to do with it. That was a joke. And I'm now coining the phrase: "Totes ma-jokes."
Monday, February 22, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
Video_Mandy Gone Wild
My friend Mandy caught on camera at a Caps/Bruins game doing what she does best: cracking people up. Love it!
Friday, February 5, 2010
Words_The Handshake Fail
Come April, my time at the community college will have reached 3 years (yikes; I mean, wow). Unfortunately I haven't watched the show Community enough to sufficiently answer if it truly embodies the cc culture, however, if it means encountering weird, awkward, tightly wound science instructors, then yes, it's exactly like that.
One of my main responsibilities at the college is making sure all the Web site content is up to date. This means I manage (nag) around 100+ people (we call them content contributors) to change their "2009s" to "2010s" and their "falls" to "spring" among other endless reminders. It seems like an impossible task and many days it is.
This past week, one content contributor apparently "fell off the face of the earth" as his supervisor described. So the supervisor phoned me, pitched his sob story, and left me no choice but to take his pages under my editorial wing. Classic move. He then sent an e-mail to his department colleague announcing my declaration of adoption which prompted the following phone call with this particular colleague.
"Hi Kimi?"
"Yes."
"I'm Beth, I hear you are taking over our pages for a little while?"
"Yes I am."
"Oh, that's wonderful. Well, I have some event updates for the college that I wanted to go over with you."
"Sure, do you want to send them to me?"
"Send what to you."
"...The events."
Silence.
"You could e-mail them to me... the events."
Silence.
"And I'll put them on the Web site?"
"Well, Kimi, (insert irritated voice) I have never met you before and I really like meeting people first before working with them."
Cue my insides simmering
"Ok..."
"Would you be able to meet today?"
"Um, yeah, I'll be here until one so..."
"You can say no, Kimi," she said laughing, almost spitefully.
What the...?
"No, it's fine," I say. "I won't be able to make your updates today but I can meet with you today."
"Okay, then. What time is good for you?"
"Anytime really, how about 11 a.m.?" (It was 10 a.m.)
Silence.
"Ok...," she finally agreed. I'll see you at 11."
I hang up the phone, my heart beating wildly. I kept returning to the same question: What. The H. Just happened. How was it that the person who should be thanking me for shouldering her and her department's work load was looking more like my adversary than my cheerleader? I hated her. If it was possible, I would have channeled myself through the phone and b-slapped her, maybe twice for good measure.
I willed myself not to think about it and returned to my work. 11 a.m. finally came and I decided that I would set aside my riled up emotions for the sake of this business relationship. This was a professional work setting and I was set on keeping it that way.
I heard some meek footsteps land outside my door. I looked up to see an older, slender woman with a brown disheveled bowl cut. She was smiling--warmly, I might add. I took that as a good sign. I took that as a good start. We were going to pretend that phone call didn't happen; we were going to make this right.
"Hi Kimi," she said.
"Hi Beth," I returned the warm greeting and extended my hand. She extended hers as well and I went in for a firm grip. As I closed my hand around hers, I noticed her hand was barely open, in fact, instead of meeting mine grip to grip, it was more of my grip to her withered hand.
"Ow!" She exclaimed and drew back her hand abruptly. I stared in shock, her reaction generously unfitting for the mild offense. She rubbed her hand and said, "I've got rings on, you know."
Again, the same question arose in my head. What. The H. Just happened.
"I'm sorry," I managed finally and sat down quickly in my chair, turning my attention to my computer screen. Had I entered the twilight zone? Was I the one going crazy? Or was withery mcwitheron out of her mind.
She broke the silence and like a switch began to talk brightly about the events she wanted updated.
"So we have a special event happening in April, I sent you that e-mail," she said as I opened up the document file.
"Ok," I said.
"And then we have an event in February," she paused. I turned in her direction and realized she was waiting for me to document it somehow. She had nothing on paper to give me. She didn't take the time to write any of this down for me or save a tree and e-mail it over to me. She waited for me to acknowledge her words. I awkwardly shuffled some papers toward me and began to scribble the date. Then, she continued, "March 16... April 20...May..."
It took a total of 10 seconds for her to breathe these dates out to me.
I copied them down.
I looked over at her, sending a thousand imaginary darts into her face. Bullseye.
"Well, thanks Kimi, I'm glad I got to meet you."
"Yeah, it was nice meeting you."
I didn't dare try to shake withered McGee again.
She promptly rose and shuffled out the door.
I sat a little bewildered in my chair, replaying the entire five minutes over in my head, realizing that more than half of that time was taken up with me experiencing a major handshake fail. What could have been avoided was instead painfully played out in a bizarre unfurling of events. And it wasn't long until I came round again with the question of the day:
What. The H. Just happened.
One of my main responsibilities at the college is making sure all the Web site content is up to date. This means I manage (nag) around 100+ people (we call them content contributors) to change their "2009s" to "2010s" and their "falls" to "spring" among other endless reminders. It seems like an impossible task and many days it is.
This past week, one content contributor apparently "fell off the face of the earth" as his supervisor described. So the supervisor phoned me, pitched his sob story, and left me no choice but to take his pages under my editorial wing. Classic move. He then sent an e-mail to his department colleague announcing my declaration of adoption which prompted the following phone call with this particular colleague.
"Hi Kimi?"
"Yes."
"I'm Beth, I hear you are taking over our pages for a little while?"
"Yes I am."
"Oh, that's wonderful. Well, I have some event updates for the college that I wanted to go over with you."
"Sure, do you want to send them to me?"
"Send what to you."
"...The events."
Silence.
"You could e-mail them to me... the events."
Silence.
"And I'll put them on the Web site?"
"Well, Kimi, (insert irritated voice) I have never met you before and I really like meeting people first before working with them."
Cue my insides simmering
"Ok..."
"Would you be able to meet today?"
"Um, yeah, I'll be here until one so..."
"You can say no, Kimi," she said laughing, almost spitefully.
What the...?
"No, it's fine," I say. "I won't be able to make your updates today but I can meet with you today."
"Okay, then. What time is good for you?"
"Anytime really, how about 11 a.m.?" (It was 10 a.m.)
Silence.
"Ok...," she finally agreed. I'll see you at 11."
I hang up the phone, my heart beating wildly. I kept returning to the same question: What. The H. Just happened. How was it that the person who should be thanking me for shouldering her and her department's work load was looking more like my adversary than my cheerleader? I hated her. If it was possible, I would have channeled myself through the phone and b-slapped her, maybe twice for good measure.
I willed myself not to think about it and returned to my work. 11 a.m. finally came and I decided that I would set aside my riled up emotions for the sake of this business relationship. This was a professional work setting and I was set on keeping it that way.
I heard some meek footsteps land outside my door. I looked up to see an older, slender woman with a brown disheveled bowl cut. She was smiling--warmly, I might add. I took that as a good sign. I took that as a good start. We were going to pretend that phone call didn't happen; we were going to make this right.
"Hi Kimi," she said.
"Hi Beth," I returned the warm greeting and extended my hand. She extended hers as well and I went in for a firm grip. As I closed my hand around hers, I noticed her hand was barely open, in fact, instead of meeting mine grip to grip, it was more of my grip to her withered hand.
"Ow!" She exclaimed and drew back her hand abruptly. I stared in shock, her reaction generously unfitting for the mild offense. She rubbed her hand and said, "I've got rings on, you know."
Again, the same question arose in my head. What. The H. Just happened.
"I'm sorry," I managed finally and sat down quickly in my chair, turning my attention to my computer screen. Had I entered the twilight zone? Was I the one going crazy? Or was withery mcwitheron out of her mind.
She broke the silence and like a switch began to talk brightly about the events she wanted updated.
"So we have a special event happening in April, I sent you that e-mail," she said as I opened up the document file.
"Ok," I said.
"And then we have an event in February," she paused. I turned in her direction and realized she was waiting for me to document it somehow. She had nothing on paper to give me. She didn't take the time to write any of this down for me or save a tree and e-mail it over to me. She waited for me to acknowledge her words. I awkwardly shuffled some papers toward me and began to scribble the date. Then, she continued, "March 16... April 20...May..."
It took a total of 10 seconds for her to breathe these dates out to me.
I copied them down.
I looked over at her, sending a thousand imaginary darts into her face. Bullseye.
"Well, thanks Kimi, I'm glad I got to meet you."
"Yeah, it was nice meeting you."
I didn't dare try to shake withered McGee again.
She promptly rose and shuffled out the door.
I sat a little bewildered in my chair, replaying the entire five minutes over in my head, realizing that more than half of that time was taken up with me experiencing a major handshake fail. What could have been avoided was instead painfully played out in a bizarre unfurling of events. And it wasn't long until I came round again with the question of the day:
What. The H. Just happened.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Listen_Farewell Freeness
What They're Saying
I'm going to seriously whore them out in Boston, KY jelly required- jk/ gross!!! //Mandy
I will try my best to do some if not all of the following to support yo man! //Erin
1. You are a great girlfriend.
2. Where do I click to listen? j/k.
3. When can we meet to pray?
// Erin A.
You're awesome. Thanks for thinking of me. And now to send out those notices...
//Brandon
I'd be happy to support them and pass on this info to others.
//Scotty
Done. excited to hear this. hopefully my five friends will be too. (uh, i have more than five friends, i mean, whatever, who are you to judge me?) //Jeff W.
I got Robbe's Farewell Flight CD and I loooooovvvveee it! Can I please come with you to their next concert and be a little groupie?! hehe //Abby
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Words_The Waiting Room
A thousand times
The same words, the same cry
The same chair that understands
Every curve in my spine
Every day the scale shifts
Deeper into my own hands
Relieving nothing and forgetting everything
That weighs immeasurably more
Than the hope that my stepping left or stepping right
Changes anything at all
A hundred times I thought of you
Alone and heavy yet weightless and floating
In my dreams we were free
Unfolding like the heavens and the earth
And the endlessness of stars
Yet here in this room
In the strongest of silence
Where hope beats against the heart
And loss is shouldered in surrender
Broken words are made new
Light is traded for darkness
The voices I yearn for
To lead and to save
Drown out my cry
In a wild harmony
That rewrites my words
That rescues my fall
As the room becomes smaller
And their song beckons me to come in.
The same words, the same cry
The same chair that understands
Every curve in my spine
Every day the scale shifts
Deeper into my own hands
Relieving nothing and forgetting everything
That weighs immeasurably more
Than the hope that my stepping left or stepping right
Changes anything at all
A hundred times I thought of you
Alone and heavy yet weightless and floating
In my dreams we were free
Unfolding like the heavens and the earth
And the endlessness of stars
Yet here in this room
In the strongest of silence
Where hope beats against the heart
And loss is shouldered in surrender
Broken words are made new
Light is traded for darkness
The voices I yearn for
To lead and to save
Drown out my cry
In a wild harmony
That rewrites my words
That rescues my fall
As the room becomes smaller
And their song beckons me to come in.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Photos_Farm Show 2010
On January 16 Robbe and I took on PA's annual farm show where we befriended a colorful cast of sheep, chicken, bunnies, and ducks. We made a generous stop at the wine sampling table, saw some sheep get molested and paraded around a dirt floor poop mine, and watched baby ducks walk an elevated plank thinking they were getting a quick bite to eat but instead took an ill-fated plunge into the water below. Here is our great adventure (cue Steven Curtis Chapman)...
"The Towering Cow"
If I would have seen someone start to bow down and worship it, I was so outta there!
If I would have seen someone start to bow down and worship it, I was so outta there!
Robbey and the most photogenic lamb ever
"Afro Sheep"
I thought he was rocking "the Daryl" from The Office
I thought he was rocking "the Daryl" from The Office
"The Runners"
Warming up before the marathon
Warming up before the marathon
"KKK"
I was appalled he even decided to show up
I was appalled he even decided to show up
"The Slackers"
I think they lit up one too many today
"Romeo and Juliet"
Forbidden lovers
Forbidden lovers
"Lady Gaga"
"Walking the plank"
...and then plunging into the water! So sad!
"Quick nap"
"1st Korean Winner in Hay-Bailing Contest"
"Hanging Tough"
We actually photoshopped the tractor in; the original photo shows Robbe holding onto a cabinet door handle
"Swine Who?"
An odd poster in a farm display
"Tires and tires and tires, oh my!"
Big tires, no big deal
"Going Home"
We've been officially farm showed and it feels good.
And smelly.
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"Love these guys as do my five friends! Do they want to do a concert in Nebraska any time soon?:) I didn't know you were dating a musician. I would like that, I think. I pretend Josh is a rock start sometimes for fun:)" //Andi
I think I'm falling for them. :) //Stephanie A.