Oh, my favorite...here's a great grammar, punctuation, and vocabulary test. Think you know the English language well? Test yourself. Here are my results:
You did so extremely well, even I can't find a word to describe your excellence! You have the uncommon intelligence necessary to understand things that most people don't. You have an extensive vocabulary, and you're not afraid to use it properly! Way to go!
Now I have to go look at the answer key and figure out which one(s) I screwed up!
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Sunday, July 17, 2005
Feelin' hot hot hot
Dan and I drove out to Vegas again this past Wednesday to hang out with his brother and his family. The original plan was to drive to the Grand Canyon while we were there--his brother just bought a Honda Oddessy and it's got the cool DVD player and super comfy seating--but after a bit more research we decided to save it for a time when we could spend the night there at one of the lodges and really take the place in. So instead we just hung out at their place.
We like their place. It's homey and comfortable, the AC is always cranked, and there's endless fun now that Simon is two and a half. Man, is that kid's vocabulary growing! And it's so cute, he says everything twice: "Play legos play legos?" "Wanna eat wanna eat?" "Where go where go?" He's being potty-trained, so they've got his little potty set up in the living room where he does most of his playing, and when he's gone he'll jump up and throw his hands in the air and shout, "I did it!" like he just ran a triathalon or something. It's hilarious.
He also does this intense love-you thing where he just gets so incredibly excited that you're there and playing with him that his eyes get all big and his face looks almost violent, and he'll just squeeze your cheeks or arm or leg or whatever is closest. It's hilarious. Until he pinches hard--kid's strong for two years old!
So anyway, Vegas, being in the desert and all, was FREAKING HOT. Like, unbelievably, indescribably hot. At one point our car's thermometer said 120. Sometimes the a/c would be on full-blast and wouldn't feel at ALL cold. You could practically feel your body losing moisture. Every day was at least 105. It was a truly incredible experience. I don't know how people can live there, honestly. I mean, I suppose you get used to it when you've been there your whole life, or if you are there longer than 4 days at a time like us. But wow...there are some things I really just don't want to have to "get used to," and feeling as though the soles of my shoes are melting to the pavement is one of them.
So once again I am so happy to live where I live. Today it was in the low 80's, which didn't feel nearly as hot as it usually does given the heat we were in yesterday. But now the sun is slowly setting and the temperature is dipping; the windows and doors are open and we have a nice breeze floating through. Beautiful. California is so cool. :)
We like their place. It's homey and comfortable, the AC is always cranked, and there's endless fun now that Simon is two and a half. Man, is that kid's vocabulary growing! And it's so cute, he says everything twice: "Play legos play legos?" "Wanna eat wanna eat?" "Where go where go?" He's being potty-trained, so they've got his little potty set up in the living room where he does most of his playing, and when he's gone he'll jump up and throw his hands in the air and shout, "I did it!" like he just ran a triathalon or something. It's hilarious.
He also does this intense love-you thing where he just gets so incredibly excited that you're there and playing with him that his eyes get all big and his face looks almost violent, and he'll just squeeze your cheeks or arm or leg or whatever is closest. It's hilarious. Until he pinches hard--kid's strong for two years old!
So anyway, Vegas, being in the desert and all, was FREAKING HOT. Like, unbelievably, indescribably hot. At one point our car's thermometer said 120. Sometimes the a/c would be on full-blast and wouldn't feel at ALL cold. You could practically feel your body losing moisture. Every day was at least 105. It was a truly incredible experience. I don't know how people can live there, honestly. I mean, I suppose you get used to it when you've been there your whole life, or if you are there longer than 4 days at a time like us. But wow...there are some things I really just don't want to have to "get used to," and feeling as though the soles of my shoes are melting to the pavement is one of them.
So once again I am so happy to live where I live. Today it was in the low 80's, which didn't feel nearly as hot as it usually does given the heat we were in yesterday. But now the sun is slowly setting and the temperature is dipping; the windows and doors are open and we have a nice breeze floating through. Beautiful. California is so cool. :)
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
CBA
This weekend I was in Denver to meet with all sorts of various folks before the onslaught of the CBA convention madness. (CBA = Christian Bookseller's Association) The convention actually started at the same time I was boarding a SuperShuttle to go back to the airport and come home, so I missed out on touring the convention floor and snatching up all the wacky freebies at the exhibitor booths. But I did have some fantastic meetings and managed to get my name and book out there to some retailers, so hopefully that will help sales in some small way. I was given a super-tenative, super-ballpark figure for my current sales, and found that I need to sell about 11,000 more units before I break into royalties. Oi. Hopefully that was a lowballed figure!
The best part of the weekend, by far, was the total miracle God wrought in my stomach. Ever since I was 6 I've suffered from motion sickness when I fly. I've always just popped some Dramamine and been fine, but you can't take it when you're pregnant, so I was totally freaking out about the flight. And then it turned out I had layovers both on the way there and the way back, which meant a total of 4 takeoffs and 4 landings. Needless to say, I was convinced I'd be puking my way to the Mile High City and back. Before I left, Dan and I raided Wal*Mart for snacks, my theory being, if I gave my stomach something to chew on, I wouldn't get nauseated. So my carry on bag was filled to the brim with Goldfish crackers, Combos, peanut M&M's, Pringles, Finding Nemo fruit snacks, and those little mini boxes of cereal.
On the way to the airport, my mom told me to concentrate on deep breathing, so I didn't get myself all nervous and worked up. I figured, between the food, the pressure bracelet thingies I bought, and the breathing, I might just make it.
I completely forgot to wear the pressure bracelets, and I hardly ate anything on the flight, but it didn't even matter: I didn't get sick at all!! I put on my Walkman, cranked up Simon & Garfunkel's Greatest Hits (almost always the first thing I listen to when I fly) and settled back into my deep breathing, and PRAYED LIKE MAD that I wouldn't get sick. AND I DIDN'T.
Now, you need to understand that, typically, I'll still feel a little queazy when I take the Dramamine. But this time there was nothing, except for a teensy bit on the way home when we hit some crazy turbulence. Usually that would have had my face in one of those throw-up bags, but not this time! I am convinved that God had mercy on my poor weak tummy and totally hooked me up. He's so freaking awesome!
'Course, now I have an entire bag of snacks. Anyone hungry?
The best part of the weekend, by far, was the total miracle God wrought in my stomach. Ever since I was 6 I've suffered from motion sickness when I fly. I've always just popped some Dramamine and been fine, but you can't take it when you're pregnant, so I was totally freaking out about the flight. And then it turned out I had layovers both on the way there and the way back, which meant a total of 4 takeoffs and 4 landings. Needless to say, I was convinced I'd be puking my way to the Mile High City and back. Before I left, Dan and I raided Wal*Mart for snacks, my theory being, if I gave my stomach something to chew on, I wouldn't get nauseated. So my carry on bag was filled to the brim with Goldfish crackers, Combos, peanut M&M's, Pringles, Finding Nemo fruit snacks, and those little mini boxes of cereal.
On the way to the airport, my mom told me to concentrate on deep breathing, so I didn't get myself all nervous and worked up. I figured, between the food, the pressure bracelet thingies I bought, and the breathing, I might just make it.
I completely forgot to wear the pressure bracelets, and I hardly ate anything on the flight, but it didn't even matter: I didn't get sick at all!! I put on my Walkman, cranked up Simon & Garfunkel's Greatest Hits (almost always the first thing I listen to when I fly) and settled back into my deep breathing, and PRAYED LIKE MAD that I wouldn't get sick. AND I DIDN'T.
Now, you need to understand that, typically, I'll still feel a little queazy when I take the Dramamine. But this time there was nothing, except for a teensy bit on the way home when we hit some crazy turbulence. Usually that would have had my face in one of those throw-up bags, but not this time! I am convinved that God had mercy on my poor weak tummy and totally hooked me up. He's so freaking awesome!
'Course, now I have an entire bag of snacks. Anyone hungry?
Monday, July 04, 2005
God Bless the USA
I can hear two different fireworks shows in the general vicinity, and the neighbors in the house behind ours must be up on their balcony watching, because they keep cheering and shouting, "Higher!" Then, just a minute ago, they started singing the National Anthem. How cool. I love it when stuff like that happens.
Last night Dan and I went for a walk around the RSM Lake, and people had already laid out their picnic blankets and lawn chairs to stake their spot for the show tonight. I love that I live in a place where you can leave your stuff there overnight and not worry about it being gone in the morning. Today when we drove by it looked like a giant crazy quilt with big green gaps where people knew you couldn't see the show well and the grass was still clear. A couple years ago Dan and I claimed a spot around noon and spent the whole day there, playing Boggle and Scrabble and Yahtzee and cards and eating picnic meals, then watched with the rest of the city as the fireworks exploded over the lake. I'm such a sucker for fireworks, don't ask me why. For some reason they're romantic to me. Last year we listened to the explosions while playing badmitton in the backyard (lit with tiki torches at the corners of the court) as the neighbor kids above us gave a running commentary of what they could see from their balcony. This year we watched the Angels lose on TV and I paid bills. Geez, we sound like old geezers.
Next year we'll have a six-month-old and who knows what the heck we'll be doing. Probably not watching a fireworks show since the kid would freak out at the noise, I'm sure. But how weird is that? That at this time next year our baby will already be six months old. I was nearly walking at six months. I can't imagine chasing a baby around that early. Heck, I can't imagine having a baby!
But anyway, I digress, which seems to happen a lot these days. Chalk it up to a distracted one-track mind. The reason I was writing originally was to say: Happy Birthday USA. Thank you, President Bush. God bless you, men and women of the US military, who have to deal with crap not only in other countries but then here at home, too. I don't care what you think about the war: support the people doing their jobs in fighting it. They knew what they were getting into, they weren't drafted, they weren't coerced, and face it, Hussein was hardly a benevolent leader. Just because things aren't going as well as hoped doesn't mean we shouldn't have gone there in the first place. If our government went militant on us, I'd want someone to come rescue us, too.
Okay, so, I'm off the soapbox now and off to bed. Sleep well tonight knowing you're in a free country. God bless the USA....
Last night Dan and I went for a walk around the RSM Lake, and people had already laid out their picnic blankets and lawn chairs to stake their spot for the show tonight. I love that I live in a place where you can leave your stuff there overnight and not worry about it being gone in the morning. Today when we drove by it looked like a giant crazy quilt with big green gaps where people knew you couldn't see the show well and the grass was still clear. A couple years ago Dan and I claimed a spot around noon and spent the whole day there, playing Boggle and Scrabble and Yahtzee and cards and eating picnic meals, then watched with the rest of the city as the fireworks exploded over the lake. I'm such a sucker for fireworks, don't ask me why. For some reason they're romantic to me. Last year we listened to the explosions while playing badmitton in the backyard (lit with tiki torches at the corners of the court) as the neighbor kids above us gave a running commentary of what they could see from their balcony. This year we watched the Angels lose on TV and I paid bills. Geez, we sound like old geezers.
Next year we'll have a six-month-old and who knows what the heck we'll be doing. Probably not watching a fireworks show since the kid would freak out at the noise, I'm sure. But how weird is that? That at this time next year our baby will already be six months old. I was nearly walking at six months. I can't imagine chasing a baby around that early. Heck, I can't imagine having a baby!
But anyway, I digress, which seems to happen a lot these days. Chalk it up to a distracted one-track mind. The reason I was writing originally was to say: Happy Birthday USA. Thank you, President Bush. God bless you, men and women of the US military, who have to deal with crap not only in other countries but then here at home, too. I don't care what you think about the war: support the people doing their jobs in fighting it. They knew what they were getting into, they weren't drafted, they weren't coerced, and face it, Hussein was hardly a benevolent leader. Just because things aren't going as well as hoped doesn't mean we shouldn't have gone there in the first place. If our government went militant on us, I'd want someone to come rescue us, too.
Okay, so, I'm off the soapbox now and off to bed. Sleep well tonight knowing you're in a free country. God bless the USA....
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