<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736</id><updated>2009-12-07T21:58:55.047-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Life in Bullets</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default?orderby=updated'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;orderby=updated'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>117</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-5498068478872830479</id><published>2009-05-04T10:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T10:42:20.744-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='future'/><title type='text'>Summertime</title><content type='html'>Wow, I haven't blogged in 4 months. Crazy. I guess I don't have much to say since I don't do much besides go to school, read for school, watch TV (usually online at that), and talk on the phone. I mean, I could write post after post about those things, but who wants to hear about that? As always, I've been motivated to write again by the fact that there is something else way more important that I should be doing: studying for finals, which start tomorrow. I never thought I'd miss W&amp;amp;M where we wrote more papers than took exams, but there you have it. I'm honestly not too worried about it since I've gone through this process before and came out relatively unscathed and since I think I have a pretty good handle on my classes. Of course, I could regret not spending every waking hour re-reading my notes and outline, but I don't see that happening. I've decided instead to take a moment and look ahead to the summer. I have a list of summer goals/projects, and I thought I'd list them here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Organize my many, many, many, many photos into albums. I already have a lot of pictures in albums, but I have hundreds, possibly thousands, more just sitting in a box, some of which are worthy of being preserved in a nice little book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Touch up some places on my wall with fresh paint. Apparently my landlord didn't think it was necessary to make the place look too nice before I moved in, so I'll do it myself. I wish I could paint my room purple, but that would be way too much work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Read at least 15 books. I'd set that goal higher, but I am taking two classes, working as a research assistant, and writing a 45-page paper for a journal at school, so I won't have much more free time than I do now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Finally make it to Mt. Vernon and the National Archives. Anyone who wants to come is welcome to join me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Try 10 new restaurants in the city. I tend to stick to a few that I really like, and I want to branch out a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*See at least 10 movies in theaters. These will include &lt;em&gt;Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Star Trek, Up, Public Enemies, (500) Days of Summer, Away We Go, &lt;/em&gt;and&lt;em&gt; Julie and Julia. &lt;/em&gt;May include &lt;em&gt;Land of the Lost, Year One, Bruno, Funny People, &lt;/em&gt;and&lt;em&gt; Cold Souls. &lt;/em&gt;But definitely won't include &lt;em&gt;The Proposal, Final Destination 4, Dance Flick, &lt;/em&gt;or &lt;em&gt;Imagine That&lt;/em&gt;. See a summer release calendar &lt;a href="http://www.ew.com/ew/package/0,,20246950_20267892,00.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Walk a bunch, wearing comfortable clothes since DC is killer in the summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that's it for goal and projects. I have a few fun things lined up, too:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Trip to NYC the weekend right after finals (10 days!). I'm eating at Craft, going to the Museum of Modern Art, walking around the Central Park Zoo, going to a jazz club in the Village. It's going to be spectacular.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*See No Doubt in July (maybe June, can't keep it straight). A middle school dream come true! I've liked them pretty consistently since &lt;em&gt;Tragic Kingdom&lt;/em&gt;, even though &lt;em&gt;Rock Steady &lt;/em&gt;was not my favorite CD of all time and Gwen Stefani's solo stuff makes me want to rip the stereo out of the car and throw it out the window whenever one of her songs comes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Visit my sister's family in Washington. She'll have a two-month old baby boy by then, so that's very exciting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's it. Maybe I'll be able to update more over the summer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-5498068478872830479?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/5498068478872830479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=5498068478872830479' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/5498068478872830479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/5498068478872830479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2009/05/summertime.html' title='Summertime'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-5588096969324779734</id><published>2009-01-05T13:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T13:39:11.530-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><title type='text'>Fifty</title><content type='html'>As I said in my last entry, I took the 50 book challenge this year, and because I am proud of the fact I was able to finish, here is the list of books I read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;em&gt;Rabbit, Run &lt;/em&gt;by John Updike&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;em&gt;All the King’s Men &lt;/em&gt;by Robert Penn Warren&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;em&gt;Queen of Fashion: What Marie Antoinette Wore to the Revolution &lt;/em&gt;by Caroline Weber&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;em&gt;Cat on a Hot Tin Roof &lt;/em&gt;by Tennessee Williams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;em&gt;Native Son&lt;/em&gt; by Richard Wright&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;em&gt;Travels with Charley: In Search of America &lt;/em&gt;by John Steinbeck&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. &lt;em&gt;Tortilla Flat&lt;/em&gt; by John Steinbeck&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. &lt;em&gt;The Post-Birthday World&lt;/em&gt; by Lionel Shriver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. &lt;em&gt;Twilight&lt;/em&gt; by Stephanie Meyer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. &lt;em&gt;Eclipse&lt;/em&gt; by Stephanie Meyer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. &lt;em&gt;New Moon&lt;/em&gt; by Stephanie Meyer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. &lt;em&gt;Breaking Dawn&lt;/em&gt; by Stephanie Meyer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. &lt;em&gt;Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone&lt;/em&gt; by J.K. Rowling (re-read)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. &lt;em&gt;Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets&lt;/em&gt; by J.K. Rowling (re-read)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. &lt;em&gt;Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban&lt;/em&gt; by J.K. Rowling (re-read)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. &lt;em&gt;Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal&lt;/em&gt; by Christopher Moore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. &lt;em&gt;The House of the Spirits&lt;/em&gt; by Isabelle Allende&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. &lt;em&gt;Othello &lt;/em&gt;by William Shakespeare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. &lt;em&gt;Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress &lt;/em&gt;by Susan Jane Gilman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. &lt;em&gt;Kiss my Tiara &lt;/em&gt;by Susan Jane Gilman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. &lt;em&gt;Chuck Klosterman IV: A Decade of Curious People and Dangerous Ideas&lt;/em&gt; by Chuck Klosterman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. &lt;em&gt;When You Are Engulfed in Flames&lt;/em&gt; by David Sedaris&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. &lt;em&gt;Into the Wild&lt;/em&gt; by Jon Krakauer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. &lt;em&gt;Under the Banner of Heaven&lt;/em&gt; by Jon Krakauer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. &lt;em&gt;To Kill a Mockingbird&lt;/em&gt; by Harper Lee (re-read)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. &lt;em&gt;Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs&lt;/em&gt; by Chuck Klosterman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. &lt;em&gt;Prodigal Summer&lt;/em&gt; by Barbara Kingsolver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. &lt;em&gt;The Known World&lt;/em&gt; by Edward P. Jones&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. &lt;em&gt;A Civil Action&lt;/em&gt; by Jonathan Harr&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. &lt;em&gt;The Gospel of Food: Why We Should Stop Worrying and Enjoy What We Eat&lt;/em&gt; by Barry Glassner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. B&lt;em&gt;ig Coal&lt;/em&gt; by Jeff Goodell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. &lt;em&gt;Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close&lt;/em&gt; by Jonathan Safran Foer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. &lt;em&gt;Everything is Illuminated&lt;/em&gt; by Jonathan Safran Foer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. &lt;em&gt;The Yiddish Policemen’s Union&lt;/em&gt; by Michael Chabon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. &lt;em&gt;Papillon&lt;/em&gt; by Henri Cherriere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. &lt;em&gt;Elizabeth and Mary: Cousins, Rivals, Queens &lt;/em&gt;by Jane Dunn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. &lt;em&gt;Bill Bryson’s African Diary&lt;/em&gt; by Bill Bryson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. &lt;em&gt;Things I Learned about My Dad&lt;/em&gt; by Heather Armstrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. &lt;em&gt;The Third Freedom: Ending Hunger in Our Time&lt;/em&gt; by George McGovern&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40. &lt;em&gt;Lonesome Dove&lt;/em&gt; by Larry McMurtry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;41. &lt;em&gt;Lullaby&lt;/em&gt; by Chuck Palahniuk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42. &lt;em&gt;Invisible Monsters&lt;/em&gt; by Chuck Palahniuk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;43. &lt;em&gt;Pink Think: Becoming a Woman in Many Uneasy Lessons&lt;/em&gt; by Lynn Peril&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;44. &lt;em&gt;Bad Haircut&lt;/em&gt; by Tom Perrotta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45. &lt;em&gt;Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers&lt;/em&gt; by Mary Roach&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;46. &lt;em&gt;Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire&lt;/em&gt; by J.K. Rowling (re-read)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;47. &lt;em&gt;Founding Mothers: The Women Who Raised Our Nation&lt;/em&gt; by Cokie Roberts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48. &lt;em&gt;In a Sun-Burned Country&lt;/em&gt; by Bill Bryson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;49. &lt;em&gt;Tales of Beedle the Bard&lt;/em&gt; by J.K. Rowling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;50. &lt;em&gt;The Road&lt;/em&gt; by Cormac McCarthy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;51. &lt;em&gt;The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao&lt;/em&gt; by Junot Diaz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-5588096969324779734?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/5588096969324779734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=5588096969324779734' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/5588096969324779734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/5588096969324779734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2009/01/fifty.html' title='Fifty'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-5755052579819357470</id><published>2009-01-05T09:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T11:03:00.881-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='best-of list'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='television'/><title type='text'>My five by five of 2008</title><content type='html'>I haven't updated this blog in months.  I was really busy with school, and then winter break has kind of gotten away from me.  I wanted to at least write up a list (or five) of my favorite things of 2008. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Movies I saw in theaters:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*The Curious Case of Benjamin Button&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.  This is an epic, Forrest Gump-type movie about the life of a man who is born old and ages backwards.  Brad Pitt, never one of my favorite actors, does a good job, but Cate Blanchett is amazing.  It's based on a short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald that I haven't read, but I've read that it's just kind of loosely-based on that.  I can believe that since the movie is almost 3 hours long.  Parts are a little too...sentimental...?  I don't know.  The story is being told to Blanchett's Daisy as she lies dying in a New Orleans hospital room by her daughter while Hurricane Katrina is bearing down on them, and those were my least favorite scenes.  Just everything having to do with the daughter could have been cut and I think the movie would have been better for it.  Other than that, it's a beautiful movie that holds your (or at least my) interest for the entire length of it with some really good performances, including the one by the actress who plays Benjamin's adoptive mother, Taraji P. Henson.  See it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Doubt. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Meryl Streep and Philip Seymour Hoffman both do a really good job in this movie about a nun who suspects a priest at a Catholic school of abusing a young student.  I don't want to give too much away, but I thought the best part of this movie was how open-ended it was; there is no definite answer, no neat conclusion, you're just left with a sense of doubt (apt title).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;WALL-E.  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I've written about this before, but I just watched it again the other day and want to reiterate how great it is.  I still think it should be nominated for a Best Picture Oscar, but it probably won't be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Dark Knight.  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I also wrote about this before.  Best comic book movie ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Atonement.  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I don't think I've seen a movie quite so heart-wrenchingly depressing all year.  But it was very well-made, very well-acted (even by Keira Knightley, an actress I usually can't stand), and very good at making you, the watcher, lose all hope for life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Movies on DVD:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Darjeeling Limited&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Into the Wild&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;There Will be Blood&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;John Adams &lt;/em&gt;mini-series&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Gone Baby Gone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Books:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took the 50-book challenge this year, and was actually able to finish 51 books by December 31st, due in large part to the fact that I spent so much of my free time reading this summer.  My favorite five (that I had never read before this year) are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; by Jonathan Safran Foer.  Meeting him is still one of the best moments of the year :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lonesome Dove &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;by Larry McMurtry.  Never thought I'd like a western, but this is so good.  Don't let the length scare you away; it's a relatively quick read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;by Junot Diaz.  My only complaint about this book is that there are too many footnotes that interrupt the flow of the story.  I understand the book is based in all the history of 20th century Dominican Republic, and that that history needed to be explained in part to help the average reader's understanding of what was going on, but they were too long and too numerous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The House of the Spirits &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;by Isabel Allende.  This book is actually kind of similar to &lt;em&gt;Oscar Wao&lt;/em&gt;, in that it's a story about a particular family through several generations.  It's really great, and has made me want to read more of her stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Under the Banner of Heaven &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;by Jon Krakauer.  The only book on this list that wasn't read as part of my two-person book club, and the only one that isn't fiction.  It's a very interesting look at fundamental Mormonism, and all the convoluted, patriarchal beliefs upon which that religion is based. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. TV shows I watched for the first time this year:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mad Men&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Six Feet Under&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pushing Daisies&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Gossip Girl &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;(don't judge me, I know it's trash)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Flight of the Conchords&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Favorite Christmas presents:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Digital picture frame.  I love pictures, I love picture frames, I have a small apartment with limited space in which to put all of my picture frames.  Perfect solution!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*iPod speakers.  Now I can listen to my iPod in my room with better sound quality than that provided by my laptop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Gloves masquerading as mittens from J Crew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;em&gt;WALL-E &lt;/em&gt;on DVD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*A personal travel mug coffee maker.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-5755052579819357470?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/5755052579819357470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=5755052579819357470' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/5755052579819357470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/5755052579819357470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-five-by-five-of-2008.html' title='My five by five of 2008'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-8928551658739242937</id><published>2007-07-25T20:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:55:26.165-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='best-of list'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hotties'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><title type='text'>Letting my superficiality show</title><content type='html'>A friend has been bugging me ever-so-politely to update my blog already, so here it is. She also suggested that I post my "Top Five" list, a la that "Friends" episode about how it's OK for people in a couple to have a list of 5 celebrities they'd be allowed to sleep with if they were given the chance. I'm not part of a couple, but just in case I ever am again, this is a good thing to think about. I have luck meeting famous people, and quite frankly, I'm irresistable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Johnny Depp. He'll always be my #1--he's gorgeous, talented, and works with Tim Burton (my favorite director) every chance he gets. I have loved him since "21 Jump Street", but would know better than to mention that show to him if I were to ever meet him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RqgS2ZGN0-I/AAAAAAAAAAU/BnVf8iFF90o/s1600-h/Johnny%20Depp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091340104401540066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RqgS2ZGN0-I/AAAAAAAAAAU/BnVf8iFF90o/s320/Johnny%2520Depp.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Jonathan Rhys Meyers. I have a bit of a fascination with Henry VIII, and even though it is wildly inaccurate to have someone this attractive playing the overweight king at the time in his life when Anne Boleyn came into the picture, I admit that it does make watching "The Tudors" that much easier. I've thought he was beautiful ever since seeing him in &lt;em&gt;Match Point&lt;/em&gt;, when he had an affair with Scarlett Johansson and then killed her. Sorry for spoiling that for anyone who hasn't seen it. But if he still makes the list after murdering my favorite actress, that's saying a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RqgT5JGN1CI/AAAAAAAAAA0/AmK3YtHCnjA/s1600-h/rhys_meyers_tudors01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091341251157808162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RqgT5JGN1CI/AAAAAAAAAA0/AmK3YtHCnjA/s320/rhys_meyers_tudors01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Ewan McGregor. Though he doesn't always make the best choices when it comes to which movies to star in (see &lt;em&gt;Down With Love&lt;/em&gt;...or, actually don't because it was really awful), he generally does a pretty good job in that department. For years &lt;em&gt;Moulin Rouge&lt;/em&gt; was my all-time favorite movie, and it still ranks in the top 10; &lt;em&gt;Big Fish&lt;/em&gt; would also make that list. He seems so happy and sincere. He also doesn't let his fame get in the way of his taking full advantage of his wealth when he wants to follow a whim and go on, say, a motorcycle trip around the world. I also love his accent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RqgTHpGN0_I/AAAAAAAAAAc/0TjEMyqHXZI/s1600-h/tn2_ewan_mcgregor_3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091340400754283506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RqgTHpGN0_I/AAAAAAAAAAc/0TjEMyqHXZI/s320/tn2_ewan_mcgregor_3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Owen Wilson. He's hilarious! And I love his broken nose! He's much better-looking than Luke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RqgUcZGN1DI/AAAAAAAAAA8/_OEBHZeFbFM/s1600-h/owen_wilson_150.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091341856748196914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RqgUcZGN1DI/AAAAAAAAAA8/_OEBHZeFbFM/s320/owen_wilson_150.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Hayden Christensen. I don't know how two stars of the new &lt;em&gt;Star Wars&lt;/em&gt; movies made this list, but whatever. I never really gave this guy much thought until I saw &lt;em&gt;Factory Girl&lt;/em&gt;, a movie in which he plays a character who's supposed to be a conglomeration of different people who had an impact on Edie Sedgwick's life, but he is definitely mostly based on Bob Dylan. And he is &lt;em&gt;smokin'&lt;/em&gt;. I don't normally advocate seeing a movie solely for the sex scene, but in this case I'll make an exception. ...I feel dirty for saying that... He's much hotter as Bob Dylan than as Darth Vader, but who wouldn't be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RqgTaJGN1BI/AAAAAAAAAAs/CGAnytRrClo/s1600-h/2006_factory_girl_009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091340718581863442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RqgTaJGN1BI/AAAAAAAAAAs/CGAnytRrClo/s320/2006_factory_girl_009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Honorable Mentions&lt;/strong&gt;: Patrick Wilson, Clive Owen, Daniel Craig, Eddie Vedder, and Brandon Flowers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-8928551658739242937?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/8928551658739242937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=8928551658739242937' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/8928551658739242937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/8928551658739242937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2007/07/letting-my-superficiality-show.html' title='Letting my superficiality show'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RqgS2ZGN0-I/AAAAAAAAAAU/BnVf8iFF90o/s72-c/Johnny%2520Depp.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-5905309739906489137</id><published>2007-08-23T10:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:55:25.204-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nieces'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='seattle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><title type='text'>My visit to the Pacific Northwest and why I might not go back</title><content type='html'>I just got back today from what was a wonderful visit to my sister and family's house in Puyallup, WA, less than an hour away from Seattle. We did a lot of fun stuff and getting to see my nieces was great, but I had a bad experience coming back. Here is a run-down of my trip and my very good reason for not wanting to make the trip again:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I got in on Wednesday the 15th and was met at the airport by my sister and two nieces. I've never met Savannah, so that was the first major thrill of the week. She is now four months old and is the absolute cutest baby alive today. She sucks her thumb, sneezes a lot and then smiles because she thinks it's funny, she grabs onto my finger and tries, very hard, to put it in her mouth, she looks at you and wrinkles her forehead like she thinks you're crazy. She's just perfect. Here's a picture as proof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Rs3CYNG8zKI/AAAAAAAAABU/oB_g85MFtkM/s1600-h/DSCN1786.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101947673972100258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Rs3CYNG8zKI/AAAAAAAAABU/oB_g85MFtkM/s320/DSCN1786.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;*My sister, Christie, and I were able to make a trip into Seattle the second day I was there to do some sightseeing without the babies. We went to the top of the Space Needle, found the first Starbucks at Pike's Place Market, and shopped at Uwajimaya (huge Japanese grocery/gift store).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Rs3EWNG8zLI/AAAAAAAAABc/grsMmnHjb7A/s1600-h/DSCN1730.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101949838635617458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Rs3EWNG8zLI/AAAAAAAAABc/grsMmnHjb7A/s320/DSCN1730.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;*On one of my brother-in-law's days off, we made a day trip to Leavenworth, a German-inspired tourist town about two and a half hours away from their house. Even though it's fake and slightly corny, it's still a pretty place to visit with some cute stores (one of which had a free wine tasting, the best kind) and German-like food (bratwursts and such). The best part is the pretty buildings. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Rs3GG9G8zOI/AAAAAAAAAB0/ffyrddXMbLw/s1600-h/DSCN1751.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101951775665868002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Rs3GG9G8zOI/AAAAAAAAAB0/ffyrddXMbLw/s320/DSCN1751.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; *Close to Leavenworth, at a mountain resort called Sleeping Lady, there was an all-day $20 wine tasting festival. Because there's nothing better than drinking while pushing a stroller with two kids in it, we decided to take full advantage of this glorious event.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Rs3GvNG8zPI/AAAAAAAAAB8/COBBKbEYuas/s1600-h/Dianas+visit+Aug+2007+080.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101952467155602674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Rs3GvNG8zPI/AAAAAAAAAB8/COBBKbEYuas/s320/Dianas+visit+Aug+2007+080.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; To be clear, there were responsible adults present, namely my sister and her husband. I may have had about 20 samples overall, but they did not. This picture just amuses me. Here's a better one, showing how nestled we were in the Cascade Mountains at this festival--it was really very pretty. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Rs3HW9G8zQI/AAAAAAAAACE/pQKTRG0s9Lk/s1600-h/Dianas+visit+Aug+2007+084.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101953150055402754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Rs3HW9G8zQI/AAAAAAAAACE/pQKTRG0s9Lk/s320/Dianas+visit+Aug+2007+084.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; *Of course seeing Hannah was great, too, so I should mention that. She's in her terrible phase as a two-year-old and it was too much to take at times. She has no concept of an "inside voice," she pretend-cries at the drop of a hat, she does the opposite of what you tell her to do, and I was always a little afraid that she was going to hit me with whatever she happened to have in her hands. She would occassionally make up for her behavior by being adorable. Here she is playing dress-up while watching a Strawberry Shortcake DVD (a potential means of torture for anyone interested, by the way).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Rs3OjdG8zRI/AAAAAAAAACM/NLm1Maqcsr4/s1600-h/Dianas+visit+Aug+2007+101.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101961061385162002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Rs3OjdG8zRI/AAAAAAAAACM/NLm1Maqcsr4/s320/Dianas+visit+Aug+2007+101.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; *I had a lovely flight to Atlanta on the way back from Seattle and a short wait to get on the connecting flight to Norfolk once I got there. Twenty minutes before we were supposed to take off (ten minutes after we were supposed to board the plane), they announced that the flight was cancelled due to maintenance issues. I was put on a flight for the next morning that would take me through Philadelphia and JFK Airport in NYC before finally getting me home at 2:18 in the afternoon. They gave me a voucher for the airport Holiday Inn and I had to fight back the tears of intense frustration as I searched for the damn shuttle that would take me there. I finally got checked in around midnight and tried to sleep, but had to wake up at 4:30 to be back at the airport on time, so I may have gotten one hour of sleep altogether. Luckily they were able to put me on a direct flight at 8:50 when I checked in at the airport, so I only had to kill four hours in the Atlanta airport instead of having to take a tour of the major northeastern airports. If this were an isolated experience, I wouldn't be so quick to swear off visits to my sister's, but when I went for the first time in January, I got stuck overnight in the Dallas airport due to an ice storm. Airlines don't give you hotel vouchers if your flight is cancelled due to weather conditions. I have been on so many flights it would take too long for me to count them right now and I have never had this kind of bad luck. I'm definitely going to give it another year at least.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Not to leave on such a bad note, here is the cutest picture of the cutest baby in the world:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Rs3Q-tG8zSI/AAAAAAAAACU/wxIAO4mqkWc/s1600-h/Dianas+visit+Aug+2007+030.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101963728559852834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Rs3Q-tG8zSI/AAAAAAAAACU/wxIAO4mqkWc/s320/Dianas+visit+Aug+2007+030.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-5905309739906489137?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/5905309739906489137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=5905309739906489137' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/5905309739906489137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/5905309739906489137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2007/08/my-visit-to-pacific-northwest-and-why-i.html' title='My visit to the Pacific Northwest and why I might not go back'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Rs3CYNG8zKI/AAAAAAAAABU/oB_g85MFtkM/s72-c/DSCN1786.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-4046329689658625140</id><published>2007-09-08T20:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:55:23.708-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bragging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><title type='text'>I thought so</title><content type='html'>So it turns out that I was the cutest baby ever:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RuM3T9G8zUI/AAAAAAAAACk/KLJguCgQ-K0/s1600-h/DianaBaby1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107987218329029954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RuM3T9G8zUI/AAAAAAAAACk/KLJguCgQ-K0/s320/DianaBaby1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was made official when this picture was chosen as the cutest of all the baby pictures by the mother-to-be at a baby shower I attended today. That's indisputable, folks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-4046329689658625140?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/4046329689658625140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=4046329689658625140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/4046329689658625140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/4046329689658625140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-thought-so.html' title='I thought so'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RuM3T9G8zUI/AAAAAAAAACk/KLJguCgQ-K0/s72-c/DianaBaby1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-5501566146647718860</id><published>2007-09-24T10:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:55:23.356-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><title type='text'>Appalachian daytripper</title><content type='html'>This last Saturday, a friend and I took a day trip up to the eastern panhandle of West Virginia where I went to school. The purpose of the trip was to see the pretty views, shop in the cute little stores on Shepherdstown's main drag, and just get away from the Hampton Roads area for even one day. The inspiration for the trip was my craving for food from the Blue Moon Cafe and El Ranchero. Here are some highlights:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The drive up was relatively uneventful, meaning that there were no accidents, near-accidents, or deer sightings. Go us. I made a playlist for the trip so I wouldn't have to be fiddling with my mp3 player the whole time, and when we passed the border into West Virginia, I made sure to play "Take me Home Country Roads" by John Denver. Unfortunately we were still on the interstate at the time, so it didn't ring as true as it could have, but it was still exciting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*When we got there, we ate lunch at this really good restaurant called Blue Moon Cafe, a place I loved when I was in undergrad. They make the most delicious sandwiches, salads, hummus platters, and little crab melts on English muffins ever. The place is classic Shepherdstown, kind of eclectic, bohemian, and hippie-friendly with mismatched dishes and plenty of vegetarian options. This, to me, is reason enough to come back to my alma mater. The yummy food and ambience made up for the neglectful, sometimes rude, service we were given by the possibly unhygienic waitress. This is the Blue Moon, the way it's looked since before I started college:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RvsEtCNUylI/AAAAAAAAACw/ez8_q6a4gJs/s1600-h/DSCN1802.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114686973542713938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RvsEtCNUylI/AAAAAAAAACw/ez8_q6a4gJs/s320/DSCN1802.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*After lunch we walked up and down German Street, stopping in at my favorite stores to look for jewelry and anything you can't find in the local mall or Target. I found gorgeous citrine and smoky quartz earrings, some pretty cards, and a sparkly Mucha journal I don't know what to do with. Here is a view of German Street with Sky's the Limit in the foreground: &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RvsFkiNUymI/AAAAAAAAAC4/CCGgbmYplHw/s1600-h/DSCN1803.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114687927025453666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RvsFkiNUymI/AAAAAAAAAC4/CCGgbmYplHw/s320/DSCN1803.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;*After seeing all there was to see in Shepherdstown, including some dramatic changes to the campus that I do &lt;em&gt;not &lt;/em&gt;approve of, we made our way to Harpers Ferry. Now, here is what I know about Harpers Ferry: it is where John Brown broke into an armory to lead a slave revolt, it played a role in the Civil War (depending on who you ask, John Brown's mini-revolt is what started the War), Union and Confederate soldiers both used the town, and there's a giant rock in there somewhere called Jefferson's Rock that's a really nice place to go to look at the stars. It's also where the Potomac and Shenandoah Rivers meet and it's beautiful:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RvsHmCNUynI/AAAAAAAAADA/nawJVKVmaZY/s1600-h/n7611448_31858982_3349.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114690151818513010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RvsHmCNUynI/AAAAAAAAADA/nawJVKVmaZY/s320/n7611448_31858982_3349.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I've been whitewater rafting down the Shenandoah: &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RvsH5CNUyoI/AAAAAAAAADI/P9w9r2BMtu8/s1600-h/n7611448_31858989_5185.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114690478236027522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RvsH5CNUyoI/AAAAAAAAADI/P9w9r2BMtu8/s320/n7611448_31858989_5185.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;*We ended the day with dinner at the best Mexican restaurant ever, El Ranchero in Martinsburg, where I had the best food ever, Enchiladas Rancheras, and then headed home. Again, no accidents! Woo! So, the trip was a raging success, and I'm thinking that another one may be in order some time next semester. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-5501566146647718860?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/5501566146647718860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=5501566146647718860' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/5501566146647718860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/5501566146647718860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2007/09/appalachian-daytripper.html' title='Appalachian daytripper'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RvsEtCNUylI/AAAAAAAAACw/ez8_q6a4gJs/s72-c/DSCN1802.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-1707251073333181450</id><published>2007-10-10T11:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:55:22.034-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the beatles'/><title type='text'>They say it's your birthday</title><content type='html'>Happy belated birthday to the late, great John Lennon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Rw0fK3Gtd6I/AAAAAAAAADQ/werv18A3tIM/s1600-h/LENNON1117-3-8s.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119782622841370530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Rw0fK3Gtd6I/AAAAAAAAADQ/werv18A3tIM/s320/LENNON1117-3-8s.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I hope you didn't turn over completely in your proverbial grave after last night's "Singing Bee" tribute to you and Paul McCartney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-1707251073333181450?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/1707251073333181450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=1707251073333181450' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/1707251073333181450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/1707251073333181450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2007/10/they-say-its-your-birthday.html' title='They say it&apos;s your birthday'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Rw0fK3Gtd6I/AAAAAAAAADQ/werv18A3tIM/s72-c/LENNON1117-3-8s.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-1038894317173716875</id><published>2007-10-21T15:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:55:21.812-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='best-of list'/><title type='text'>Children throwing snowballs instead of throwing heads</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;The Nightmare Before Christmas &lt;/em&gt;is being released in theaters for a limited time in honor of Halloween. In celebration of this, here is a list of my top five favorite movies by my all-time favorite director, Tim Burton:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RxvUDcMHP4I/AAAAAAAAAEE/_eUFuFeUjE4/s1600-h/18674304.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123922156635766658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RxvUDcMHP4I/AAAAAAAAAEE/_eUFuFeUjE4/s320/18674304.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*1. &lt;em&gt;Edward Scissorhands&lt;/em&gt; (1990). Burton's first collaboration with Johnny Depp who was trying desperately to separate himself from his &lt;em&gt;21 Jump Street&lt;/em&gt; persona in the minds of Hollywood and the public. The age-old story of an outsider with scissors for hands who tries to be accepted by the people who live in the brightly-colored town at the bottom of the hill his gloomy mansion sits atop only to inadvertantly attack a few of them and subsequently be chased back to said mansion where he presumably fakes his death so he can be left in peace has never been more brilliantly or beautifully told. Danny Elfman's music, particularly "The Ice Dance" playing in the scene where Winona Ryder dances in the ice flakes of a statue Edward is carving, make what would otherwise have been a great movie absolutely perfect. Depp's performance in this movie foreshadowed the quirky choices he would make in the future and signaled the beginning of a beautiful (and lucrative) relationship between him and Burton.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*2. &lt;em&gt;The Nightmare Before Christmas &lt;/em&gt;(1993). Burton didn't direct this movie, but he did write and produce it. It's one of the most original stories ever told, definitely one of the best Christmas movies ever made (or is it a Halloween movie? What makes it so great is that it's both!). Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King of Halloween Town, grows weary after yet another year of celebrating Halloween, and takes a lonely walk in the woods when he comes across a clearing surrounded by a ring of trees, each with a different door. He decides to go through the most fascinating one in the shape of a Christmas tree, and then stumbles into Christmas Town. Jack loves what he sees so much, that he goes back to Halloween Town to tell everyone there about how wonderful Christmas is, and they decide to take over that holiday for the year. &lt;em&gt;Nightmare &lt;/em&gt;is sweet and funny, it takes you to a whole different world (two even), and it teaches you that even at Christmas, good intentions can get you shot out of the sky. Again, Danny Elfman's music adds the perfect touch to an already amazing movie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*3. &lt;em&gt;Big Fish &lt;/em&gt;(2003). The only movie on this list that doesn't suggest that I shop at Hot Topic, it centers on the broken relationship between a grown man (Will) and his dying father (Ed). Will felt like he was cheated out of getting to know Ed because as he was growing up, Ed told Will tall tales about his life, all of which Will has decided in his infinite wisdom as an adult must have been lies. The movie is filled with the tall tales as both Ed and Will reflect back on Ed's life. The stories are all sweet, most of them are brightly-lit, all of them are folk-tale-fantastic, and Ed and Will reconcile in the end, just before Ed dies. At his father's funeral, Will meets all of Ed's old friends, most of whom had played parts in his exaggerated stories, and realizes that maybe he wasn't lying after all. Awww...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*4. &lt;em&gt;Beetlejuice&lt;/em&gt; (1988). Absolutely hilarious. Funnier than a movie about an innocent, happy, young couple (the Maitlands) that dies in a car crash should be. I remember parts of this movie scaring me when I was a kid (when they leave the front porch for the first time after being dead and enter the scary alternate universe filled with sand and a huge snake, when they pull off their faces, and when they are conjured into view by Otho and rapidly decay in front of the Deetz family), but I also remember loving it and watching it five million times, so I must not have been that scared by it. One of my favorite scenes in cinema is the one set around the dinner table when the Maitlands possess the Deetzes and their guests, making them sing "The Banana Boat Song" (Day-o, day-ay-ay-o, daylight come and he wanna go home).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*5. &lt;em&gt;The Corpse Bride &lt;/em&gt;(2005). Burton's return to stop-motion animation more than a decade after &lt;em&gt;Nightmare&lt;/em&gt;, this movie told the story of an unfortunate bride who was murdered by her fiancee and has been waiting in the woods to find another man to marry her. She finds Victor and takes him to the Land of the Dead with her to be her husband, but he's supposed to marry Victoria in the Land of the Living. It's a sad but beautiful story, made even better by the voices of Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter (Burton's girlfriend and latest muse).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you haven't already, you should see them all. And, no, I don't shop at Hot Topic, nor do I condone others shopping there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-1038894317173716875?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/1038894317173716875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=1038894317173716875' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/1038894317173716875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/1038894317173716875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2007/10/children-throwing-snowballs-instead-of.html' title='Children throwing snowballs instead of throwing heads'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RxvUDcMHP4I/AAAAAAAAAEE/_eUFuFeUjE4/s72-c/18674304.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-867794877068175977</id><published>2007-10-30T13:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:55:21.626-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='okinawa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='high school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><title type='text'>A Nostalgic Look Back</title><content type='html'>High school was a magical, if sometimes traumatic, time for everyone, but having the opportunity to live out the trials and tribulations of those tumultuous four years in a foreign country really made the experience that much more special for me. As I’ve mentioned in my Introduction, I grew up on Kadena Air Force Base on Okinawa, Japan, spending the years between ages 1 and 10 there and returning when I was a freshman until I graduated. I think people get the wrong idea when I tell them I lived on Okinawa, thinking that I lived among the locals, spoke Japanese, and ate rice and sushi everyday. It wasn’t exactly that exotic since I lived on the base for most of my time over there, but I did manage to venture off base as often as possible to shop at the most interesting stores, eat the most delicious food, and go to the coolest arcades on the planet. Here are the top five things I miss/loved/remember the most about high school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Living in one of the most beautiful places on Earth. Since we were on a sub-tropical island, we never had to go far to find some awe-inspiring piece of nature, usually a beach with the clearest, bluest water you’ll ever see. This was only ten minutes from my house:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeXu00x7WI/AAAAAAAAAE4/bjgH-8SegVI/s1600-h/ikei%20beach.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127233531494395234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeXu00x7WI/AAAAAAAAAE4/bjgH-8SegVI/s400/ikei%2520beach.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;(It’s also where we spent Senior Skip Day)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that I did this on a regular basis, but I miss being able to skip class to go walk along the beach, even in January. I did that, let’s say once, with a friend and while we were walking we happened upon a disposable camera that still had about 20 pictures left to take, so we took them of each other. I know this is a bad picture, but I refused to let him get a shot of me, so this really is the best I have:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeYFE0x7XI/AAAAAAAAAFA/AYVKJpXWLjg/s1600-h/scan0010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127233913746484594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeYFE0x7XI/AAAAAAAAAFA/AYVKJpXWLjg/s320/scan0010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;(After we got them developed, we ended up with about 5 pictures of three Japanese strangers—in one, they’re mooning the camera, but I’m nice enough to not post that here.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the best things about the beauty being so abundant is that there weren’t very many places that would get all that crowded. In the United States, you’d be hard-pressed to find a waterfall that isn’t a tourist attraction swarming with hundreds of people trying to get a look. Hell, you’d be hard-pressed to find a waterfall where you can legally get in the water at the bottom. For my 18th birthday, a group of friends and I stayed at Okuma (a beach resort for military/DODDS teachers/civilian employees of the military stationed on Oki), and we took one morning to hike to Hiji Falls. Even though there was a sign warning us to not swim at the falls since there had been numerous drownings, we still did:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeYVE0x7YI/AAAAAAAAAFI/7puFLv4ghAY/s1600-h/scan0002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127234188624391554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeYVE0x7YI/AAAAAAAAAFI/7puFLv4ghAY/s320/scan0002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;(The rock behind me was super slippery, so it acted as the perfect water slide.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Close-knit group of friends. I haven’t been part of such a tight group since high school and I really miss it. In the last six years, I’ve found that most friendships as you get older are superficial at best and don’t go too much deeper than that. I miss having a group of friends I could talk about anything with, I could laugh with, and I could just assume I’d be hanging out with on the weekend without really having to ask. I still know where all of these people are and what they’re currently doing, I’ve kept in touch with all of them one way or another, and I’ve been told that’s fairly uncommon:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeYq00x7ZI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/M-_nEgY9AdU/s1600-h/valentinesgirlsngiht.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127234562286546322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeYq00x7ZI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/M-_nEgY9AdU/s320/valentinesgirlsngiht.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up with the understanding that you’re going to have to say goodbye to the people you love because they’re going to move far away unless you move first instilled pretty much all of us with the ability to keep in touch better than people who just stay in one place for their whole lives. It took less than a year for the friends I knew in North Carolina to stop writing, but I exchanged letters with my childhood best friend from when I was nine until a couple of years ago (she disappeared from Myspace, and therefore, from the face of the planet). I’m glad that I still get to be so close to my high school friends, one of whom only lives about 20 minutes down the road in Norfolk (my best one :)).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Living on a military base. The bases I’ve lived on/near or been to in the States have all pretty much sucked, but that’s understandable since when you’re here everything you need is fairly accessible off-base. When you’re in the middle of the Pacific, everything has to be put on the base with you. The Base Exchange (BX) was huge and affordable, the Tiki Cafeteria had Taco Bell, Baskin Robbins, and other familiar fast food places, and the one-room movie theater did a commendable job of scheduling movie showings so we were able to stay current. Of course, we were also kept very secure with the military police keeping guard at all the gates:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeY0E0x7aI/AAAAAAAAAFY/qV6bm-lG1hE/s1600-h/busted.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127234721200336290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeY0E0x7aI/AAAAAAAAAFY/qV6bm-lG1hE/s320/busted.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;(We asked him to do this for us, and he was nice enough to oblige)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Generally growing up in a military environment has also helped shape who I am, not that I’ve ever really given it that much thought. A lot of times in movies or on TV, they portray military families as stricter than others (like boot camp strict), and I wouldn’t say that that’s at all accurate. My dad has never demanded that I drop and give him twenty. It’s probably not really that much different, you just get used to moving around and making do with what you can get. It also means having to attend boring events, like squadron command changes, squadron picnics, and the occasional fancy dinner to honor your father and the other people who made Chief:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeZKk0x7bI/AAAAAAAAAFg/bEKYGcWqjmM/s1600-h/scan0009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127235107747392946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeZKk0x7bI/AAAAAAAAAFg/bEKYGcWqjmM/s320/scan0009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another great thing about growing up on a military base is all the free things they arrange for us. It’s kind of like living on a college campus. We had lots of festivals, fairs, and the occasional free concert. The best was, of course, when the Beach Boys came, but I couldn’t find any of the pictures I have from when Mike Love walked &lt;em&gt;right in front of me&lt;/em&gt;, but here’s one from when 98 Degrees played AmeriFest:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeZYk0x7cI/AAAAAAAAAFo/xwmA-cF1ytE/s1600-h/scan0001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127235348265561538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeZYk0x7cI/AAAAAAAAAFo/xwmA-cF1ytE/s320/scan0001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;(I’d like the say they were really popular then so you can get off my back, but I don’t think they were ever all that popular)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The best part of high school for most people is the weeks leading up to the end. They were filled with excitement over finally being done with classes and what college would bring and sadness from knowing that we’d be separated from each other, probably for the rest of our lives. So we made sure to spend lots of time together and have as much as fun as we could before it was all over. We went to Kadena Marina for (school-sponsored) Senior Skip Day:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeZmk0x7dI/AAAAAAAAAFw/5Ui2pNhqIdE/s1600-h/seniorpicnicgirlsedit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127235588783730130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeZmk0x7dI/AAAAAAAAAFw/5Ui2pNhqIdE/s320/seniorpicnicgirlsedit.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got together for the sole purpose of taking pictures in front of my friend Annie’s beautiful off-base house:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeZ2k0x7eI/AAAAAAAAAF4/k26yeJp15AQ/s1600-h/scan0014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127235863661637090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeZ2k0x7eI/AAAAAAAAAF4/k26yeJp15AQ/s320/scan0014.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course, we graduated:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeaEE0x7fI/AAAAAAAAAGA/DY5Me1eeb-E/s1600-h/scan0004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127236095589871090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeaEE0x7fI/AAAAAAAAAGA/DY5Me1eeb-E/s320/scan0004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;(I was clearly not happy about it when it came time to actually do it.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*What I miss about Okinawa in general is the food and fun you can’t get anywhere else. The arcades in Japan are about 5 million times better and more advanced than those in the States. My favorite game to play was the Taiko Drum Game (which has since been made into the greatest Play Station game ever):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeaOk0x7gI/AAAAAAAAAGI/8Z0MV7k6ZWI/s1600-h/1696913_img.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127236275978497538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeaOk0x7gI/AAAAAAAAAGI/8Z0MV7k6ZWI/s320/1696913_img.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The food is also better than anything I’ve found in the States so far. The best places were the steakhouses where they’d cook in front of you, the places where you’d order raw food and cook it yourself, and the Mongolian barbecues. The best place, however, was called Cocos, where you could order curry over rice and (usually) chicken cutlets and you could choose the spiciness from a range of 0 to 10 (I always picked 0). I still get cravings for this place:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeaZU0x7hI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/rzkMU7fX5mc/s1600-h/DSCN0833.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127236460662091282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeaZU0x7hI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/rzkMU7fX5mc/s320/DSCN0833.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okinawa is located in close proximity to other great places, like China, Korea, Malaysia, and of course, mainland Japan. Unfortunately my parents kind of suck sometimes, so the only place we made it was Guam (but we went there twice…woo hoo!). Guam is further south so it’s more of a tropical locale, but here’s what made me go ooo:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Ryeaj00x7iI/AAAAAAAAAGY/pu2quGOQF7o/s1600-h/scan0005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127236641050717730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Ryeaj00x7iI/AAAAAAAAAGY/pu2quGOQF7o/s320/scan0005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;(There was also a Planet Hollywood, a Hard Rock Café, a galleria, and a K-Mart.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there’s my sum-up of high school. I apologize for the length and congratulate those who made it to the end. I’ve been asked by several people what it was like living on Okinawa, so this is my answer. I’d go back in a second (but not to high school).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-867794877068175977?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/867794877068175977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=867794877068175977' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/867794877068175977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/867794877068175977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2007/10/high-school-was-magical-if-sometimes.html' title='A Nostalgic Look Back'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RyeXu00x7WI/AAAAAAAAAE4/bjgH-8SegVI/s72-c/ikei%2520beach.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-574856971849296188</id><published>2007-11-05T14:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:55:18.963-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nieces'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='coming up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><title type='text'>What's next</title><content type='html'>*Thanksgiving. Not only am I looking forward to this gluttonous holiday because it means two extra days off from school, but because my sister and her family are coming to visit for a whole week. This means I get to see the babies! Savannah will be seven months old and crawling, and Hannah will be a month and a half shy of three years old. Both will still be adorable. Recent pictures to prove I'm right:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Savannah--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Ry-X3U0x7zI/AAAAAAAAAMA/ij2SgtRDa70/s1600-h/Baby+Savannah+with+hat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129485477336969010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Ry-X3U0x7zI/AAAAAAAAAMA/ij2SgtRDa70/s320/Baby+Savannah+with+hat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hannah--&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Ry-YPk0x70I/AAAAAAAAAMI/7jkDscPKxj4/s1600-h/n7609849_31894542_4767.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129485893948796738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Ry-YPk0x70I/AAAAAAAAAMI/7jkDscPKxj4/s320/n7609849_31894542_4767.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom and I bought Hannah a Snow White dress-up set so she and I can dress up and watch &lt;em&gt;Shrek 3 &lt;/em&gt;together one day (I just happen to have this costume lying around...), we bought some Lincoln logs which I am just &lt;em&gt;dying &lt;/em&gt;to rip open and play with, and we're going to pick up an Aquadoodle mat (sooo much fun) and a sit-and-spin (just a note: if I had a million dollars, I would totally have an adult size sit-and-spin built for me because they are just that awesome and why should kids have all the fun). Our house will not be a boring place for these babies to visit, oh no. Not like my grandparents' house! We have cable!&lt;/p&gt;*The LSAT. Because I'm crazy, I've decided to (try to) continue going to school next year in order to get my law degree. Law school has always been in the back of my head, and after a spirited pep talk from a friend who is currently in her first year of law school, I've decided to go for it. So, on December 1st I will be in a great big room with other crazy people at Hampton University taking what is probably the most masochistic test ever devised (though I've never taken a look at the MCAT). I've been doing the practice tests, I timed myself on a couple of the sections this last weekend, and I seem to do alright. Hopefully I'll continue doing alright when I'm actually taking the test. Wish me luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Holiday shopping. I already have plans to go shopping on black Friday (the day after Thanksgiving), so I will be among the masses of bargain-hunters out looking for the best deal they can get on anything from a pair of jeans to an iPod to kitchen utensils. Should be a good time. I really like going Christmas shopping for friends and family because I think I do a pretty good job of picking out good presents and I like bringing others joy. Awww...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The end of the semester. There's one class that's making this semester hell, so I will be relieved when it's all over and I can relax for a few weeks with some good books, some mindless television, and a lot of sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-574856971849296188?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/574856971849296188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=574856971849296188' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/574856971849296188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/574856971849296188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2007/11/whats-next.html' title='What&apos;s next'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/Ry-X3U0x7zI/AAAAAAAAAMA/ij2SgtRDa70/s72-c/Baby+Savannah+with+hat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-1683042694918859237</id><published>2007-11-14T20:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:55:18.606-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='television'/><title type='text'>This week in reality TV</title><content type='html'>*&lt;em&gt;Project Runway &lt;/em&gt;finally premiered its fourth season after a break that lasted far too long. For anyone who has never had the [intense] pleasure of watching this show, it's a very well-done, high-tension, suspense-filled competition among 15 fashion designers who are all equally ambitious, passionate, and sure of themselves. Every week they're given some outlandish challenge (like making clothes out of trash) and told to "make it work" by the wonderful (if a little overblown) Tim Gunn. The show always culminates in a runway show where the designers and their designs are metaphorically ripped to shreds by the three regular judges and one special guest judge. It is &lt;em&gt;amazing&lt;/em&gt;. The show has just started and I can already tell the bitchy in-fighting is going to make the long wait all worth it. Kit, a 26-year-old freelance wardrobe stylist from LA, had this lovely gem to offer: "Life is too short to wear ugly outfits." Love it. One of the most exciting sights I've seen in New York City is the building where the designers make the magic happen:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RzvUnqi2R2I/AAAAAAAAAM8/X1C24kwUMwY/s1600-h/n7609849_30446179_3923.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132929978219251554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RzvUnqi2R2I/AAAAAAAAAM8/X1C24kwUMwY/s320/n7609849_30446179_3923.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Tyra Banks reached a new height of bitchy this week on &lt;em&gt;America's Next Top Model&lt;/em&gt; when she revealed to the remaining seven girls that they would be going to China...right before sending one of them home. Why she chose to reveal this to them, watch them get all excited, and &lt;em&gt;then&lt;/em&gt; put them through the elimination is beyond me (maybe just poor planning on the producers' part?). But it was great. Ambriel was finally sent home after weeks of me thinking that she couldn't cut it, and hopefully Chantal is not far behind. I cannot stand another week of this kind-of-pretty girl with an upturned nose talking about how she's so perfect, how she was born to be a model, and how she wants to spend her life in front of a camera. I can't imagine how sad it would be to believe that you were born to be a model--how little do you have to think of yourself for you to think that's all you can do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*On &lt;em&gt;The&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;Salt -n- Pepa Show&lt;/em&gt;, Spinderella finally entered the mix and was sure to bring the drama, just not as much as I would've liked. It was mostly about how she didn't get enough credit, blah blah, the end. The three went on &lt;em&gt;The Tyra Banks Show &lt;/em&gt;to perform and rehash all their old problems and then kiss and make up. It was kind of disappointing, though it was interesting to learn that Spinderella was only 16 and still in high school when she started touring with the group as their DJ. It makes me wonder what her parents were thinking sending her out on the road with the girls who wrote "Shoop".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-1683042694918859237?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/1683042694918859237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=1683042694918859237' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/1683042694918859237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/1683042694918859237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2007/11/this-week-in-reality-tv.html' title='This week in reality TV'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/RzvUnqi2R2I/AAAAAAAAAM8/X1C24kwUMwY/s72-c/n7609849_30446179_3923.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-4349504753549177034</id><published>2007-11-21T17:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:55:18.140-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nieces'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bragging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holiday'/><title type='text'>The holiday season has arrived...</title><content type='html'>...and with it comes the chaos of having two children under the age of 3 in the house.  At least it means being surrounded by cuteness like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R0Tc6ai2SgI/AAAAAAAAAT0/qhL0OGsMSg8/s1600-h/DSCN1954.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R0Tc6ai2SgI/AAAAAAAAAT0/qhL0OGsMSg8/s320/DSCN1954.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135472371225217538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There will be more pictures later, but I just had to get this out there.  Happy Thanksgiving!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-4349504753549177034?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/4349504753549177034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=4349504753549177034' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/4349504753549177034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/4349504753549177034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2007/11/holiday-season-has-arrived.html' title='The holiday season has arrived...'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R0Tc6ai2SgI/AAAAAAAAAT0/qhL0OGsMSg8/s72-c/DSCN1954.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-3699056222037111073</id><published>2007-11-25T18:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:55:17.975-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nieces'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><title type='text'>Lost in time</title><content type='html'>I spent the day touring Colonial Williamsburg with my parents and my sister and her family who are visiting from Washington. This may have been pure hell at times, but here is what kept me from calling up a friend and begging her to &lt;em&gt;save me (!!!)&lt;/em&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R0ouq6i2ShI/AAAAAAAAAT8/neRyd962vlc/s1600-h/DSCN2048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136969639774276114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R0ouq6i2ShI/AAAAAAAAAT8/neRyd962vlc/s320/DSCN2048.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Hannah--the cutest little colonial girl around. When these people leave, I will write a more detailed post about their exhausting visit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-3699056222037111073?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/3699056222037111073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=3699056222037111073' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/3699056222037111073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/3699056222037111073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-spent-day-touring-colonial.html' title='Lost in time'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R0ouq6i2ShI/AAAAAAAAAT8/neRyd962vlc/s72-c/DSCN2048.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-8520554033682351083</id><published>2007-11-28T16:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:55:17.779-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nieces'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='honey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holiday'/><title type='text'>Cole Invasion</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;I know not everyone is an avid reader of my blog, so allow me to reintroduce my sister and her family. They are the Coles--my sister Christie, her husband Don, and their two little girls Hannah (2) and Savannah (7 months). I usually see them about twice a year, though this visit marks the third for 2007, a record high. They were here from Tuesday of last week until today, eight days total, but it felt like a lot more, especially for my poor dog Honey who got sent to her kennel any time she even thought about going to sniff Savannah (who was, for the record, on the floor, at perfect sniff level). Here are some highlights: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Thursday was Thanksgiving. I had two friends over, making us a group of seven adults, but we had enough food to feed approximately 92, so we were all well-stuffed by the time the meal was over. We also had wine at Thanksgiving dinner for the first time in my family's history, also maybe the first time we've had wine at any dinner come to think of it. We started the day out with the Macy's Parade, ate tons of food and dessert, and played a rousing game of Scattergories. The Cole girls wore matching outfits and entertained us from time to time with their adorableness, but mostly we stayed out of each other's way for most of the day. Here's me with the nieces: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R05GWqi2U0I/AAAAAAAAAuw/SPclszD9C-w/s1600-h/DSCN1983.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138121580067836738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R05GWqi2U0I/AAAAAAAAAuw/SPclszD9C-w/s320/DSCN1983.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Friday and Saturday were glorious because my parents took the Cole family to West Virginia so Don could meet relatives and see the places we'd visit every three years when we were kids. I spent the days writing an Education Policy paper, watching Netflix DVDs, reading, and going to see one of the worst movies I've seen in a while (but that's another post). It was peaceful and Honey managed to get some much-needed rest. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Sunday we went to Colonial Williamsburg for some sightseeing sans stroller. While I could see how a stroller could be a pain in the ass in buildings with stairs and no elevator, walking around for close to five hours with a 7-month old (who was strapped to her daddy's chest) and a 2-year old (who was running free until she ran right out of steam) was a horrible idea, especially considering that we went in one, &lt;em&gt;one&lt;/em&gt;, building with stairs and those were wide enough to accommodate people carrying a stroller up and down. It would've been fine. I myself had never been to Colonial Williamsburg and was pleasantly surprised to see that I got in everything for free (finally I start to see some benefits from going to William and Mary) &lt;em&gt;and &lt;/em&gt;that I got my family in for 25% off. At least I'm good for something. So we walked around a lot, saw the Governor's Palace, stopped in the college bookstore for at least 45 minutes to regroup (get coffee, use the bathroom, feed babies, change diapers, sit), walked down Duke of Gloucester Street to the Capitol Building, and caught the bus back to the Visitor's Center and were on our way back home. Here are a few pictures from the day that make it look not all that bad:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138121996679664466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R05Gu6i2U1I/AAAAAAAAAu4/6Czr9pL4Ofs/s320/DSCN2031.JPG" border="0" /&gt;(&lt;em&gt;The Cole family in front of the Governor's Palace)&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R05MAai2U7I/AAAAAAAAAvo/SYSBk_ocP_g/s1600-h/DSCN2051.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138127794885514162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R05MAai2U7I/AAAAAAAAAvo/SYSBk_ocP_g/s320/DSCN2051.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(The Miller family with Hannah who insisted on being in the picture but then just stood there and ended up looking like some random child who ran into the shot)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R05H_ai2U3I/AAAAAAAAAvI/hl16cPajeK8/s1600-h/DSCN2068.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138123379659133810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R05H_ai2U3I/AAAAAAAAAvI/hl16cPajeK8/s320/DSCN2068.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;(A tired Hannah at the end of the day)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;*I was sore from walking so much and carrying Hannah off and on all day Monday, but somewhere around 2:30 the pain turned into something else, and I just felt achy all over like right before you come down with the flu. Somehow I was able to make it through Education Policy (last one of the semester!!), drove home, and came &lt;em&gt;thisclose&lt;/em&gt; to dying...well, not really, but I did have a temperature of 101.2. I think this was probably a case of mild dehydration, so I drank lots of water, took some medicine, and passed out around 9:30, feeling better in the morning.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;*I mostly spent Tuesday hanging out with my sister and her husband--we went to see &lt;em&gt;Dan in Real Life &lt;/em&gt;(more on how much I loved this movie later), got drinks at a bar, and shopped before heading home to spend time with the babies. My mom bought Hannah a Snow White dress-up kit and while she was having fun wearing red silky gloves that were at least two or three times too big for her, Savannah amused herself with our dog Honey's squeaky red ball (we washed it first). &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R05JBqi2U4I/AAAAAAAAAvQ/z5v1tNjBkmw/s1600-h/DSCN2075.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138124517825467266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R05JBqi2U4I/AAAAAAAAAvQ/z5v1tNjBkmw/s320/DSCN2075.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Hannah sits like a queen)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R05Lr6i2U6I/AAAAAAAAAvg/kAB-wjGufm8/s1600-h/DSCN2089.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138127442698195874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R05Lr6i2U6I/AAAAAAAAAvg/kAB-wjGufm8/s320/DSCN2089.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(Savannah plays like a puppy)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;So now they're gone and the house is quiet again. It's nice, but it was fun having them here. Hopefully we'll see each other again someday soon.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-8520554033682351083?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/8520554033682351083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=8520554033682351083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/8520554033682351083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/8520554033682351083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2007/11/cole-invasion.html' title='Cole Invasion'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R05GWqi2U0I/AAAAAAAAAuw/SPclszD9C-w/s72-c/DSCN1983.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-3817619740000913901</id><published>2007-12-02T15:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:55:16.677-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='playlist'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='harry potter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='television'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holiday'/><title type='text'>Please Christmas don't be late</title><content type='html'>*Here is my scrawny little Christmas tree that I keep in my room:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R1NFCJCTi4I/AAAAAAAAAxA/VmfoVJbI5yg/s1600-R/DSCN2096.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139527502847511426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R1NFCJCTi4I/AAAAAAAAAxA/QPoZzSZLkyY/s320/DSCN2096.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I put it up yesterday while listening to Christmas music and just generally getting in the Christmas spirit. I couldn't get a good picture of the tree that showed the star on top, but that's OK since I can't seem to get the star to stand up straight. It's all very Charlie Brown's Christmas. This is my favorite new ornament from the Disney Store:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R1NFrpCTi5I/AAAAAAAAAxI/BjX1C_tnlL4/s1600-R/DSCN2103.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139528215812082578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R1NFrpCTi5I/AAAAAAAAAxI/hE6-W1VMJ7U/s320/DSCN2103.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It's Cinderella's glass slipper!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;*For your benefit, "Happy Xmas (War is Over)" by John Lennon and "The Chipmunk Song (Christmas Don't be Late)" by Alvin and the Chipmunks have been added to my playlist. What year was that song written that Alvin so desperately wants a hula hoop? Oh, Wikipedia informs me that it was recorded in 1958, pre-Chipmunks cartoons. That explains it. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;*All the classic holiday commercials are coming on TV now, my favorite of course being the Coca Cola one with the polar bears and penguins dancing to "Little St. Nick" by the Beach Boys. It warms my heart. Also, ABC Family is now in its "25 Days of Christmas" mode which means shitty holiday TV movies, but also means that Harry Potter movies come on just about everyday of the week now. It's nice.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-3817619740000913901?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/3817619740000913901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=3817619740000913901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/3817619740000913901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/3817619740000913901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2007/12/please-christmas-dont-be-late.html' title='Please Christmas don&apos;t be late'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R1NFCJCTi4I/AAAAAAAAAxA/QPoZzSZLkyY/s72-c/DSCN2096.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-5408186881590104290</id><published>2007-12-09T20:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:55:16.315-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cute animals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='future'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holiday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lists'/><title type='text'>Listography</title><content type='html'>Last night a very good friend gave me a very good Christmas present (my first of the year!). As those of you who read my blog know, I love making lists. So, she bought me a book/journal called &lt;em&gt;Listography: Your Life in Lists&lt;/em&gt; which gives pages with topic headings, like "Your Favorite Films", "Places You've Lived", "Your Character Flaws", etc. It's perfect. I've decided to share one of the lists with you: Professions I would like to have:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Reviewer of:&lt;br /&gt;i. Amusement park rides--There couldn't possibly be a more fun job in the world. Sure, maybe you'd get sick of riding the rides after a while, but that's when you move onto a new job.&lt;br /&gt;ii. Movies--Get paid to see all the new movies and bash the ones I hate in national publications? Awesome. I will kill your career Cameron Diaz.&lt;br /&gt;iii. Fancy hotels--I'd get to travel and be pampered (and, of course, feared) for a living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Caretaker of:&lt;br /&gt;i. Red pandas--On "Growing up Red Panda", they showed how if you put your fingers in the paws of baby red pandas, they grab on like human babies, and you can lift them in the air without them letting go. It was the cutest thing in the world, and I want to experience it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R1zK_5CTkRI/AAAAAAAABAU/WjCia81zm00/s1600-h/RedPanda2c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142208073541325074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R1zK_5CTkRI/AAAAAAAABAU/WjCia81zm00/s320/RedPanda2c.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ii. Polar bears--After Knut made headlines earlier this year, I wanted to get a polar bear of my own. It would probably be better if I just worked at a zoo and cared for one there instead of bringing one home...they get pretty big...and predatory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R1zKEpCTkPI/AAAAAAAABAE/V6c7x8gWY5Y/s1600-h/468477358_7386008229_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142207055634075890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R1zKEpCTkPI/AAAAAAAABAE/V6c7x8gWY5Y/s320/468477358_7386008229_o.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;iii. Baby elephants--They're just adorable. They may slightly resemble little old men, but I would love to cradle a sad little baby elephant and sing him to sleep with "Baby Mine." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R1zKb5CTkQI/AAAAAAAABAM/OpoTSTg2SdI/s1600-h/Elephant-Calf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142207455066034434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R1zKb5CTkQI/AAAAAAAABAM/OpoTSTg2SdI/s320/Elephant-Calf.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; *Publisher--I would love to get to pick what books get to be published, get to read the next great story before anyone else in the world, and give up and coming writers the chance to be heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Biographer--I think this would just be an interesting job, and I'd get to become the authority on historical figures that fascinate me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Travel writer--Again, I'd get to travel everywhere in the world and write about it.  It'd be a lot of fun and a lot of people would be really jealous that I got to do that for a living--always a plus.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-5408186881590104290?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/5408186881590104290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=5408186881590104290' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/5408186881590104290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/5408186881590104290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2007/12/listography.html' title='Listography'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R1zK_5CTkRI/AAAAAAAABAU/WjCia81zm00/s72-c/RedPanda2c.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-825062935395440408</id><published>2007-12-10T19:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:55:15.725-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='honey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cute animals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><title type='text'>My cute lil' addict</title><content type='html'>Today my dad and I took my dog Honey to the vet for her annual check-up. She was very excited to go somewhere new (she doesn’t have the memory capacity to remember that she’s actually been there before), and wasn’t even fazed when, upon walking through the door, a friendly-looking black lab tried to bite her face off--how rude. One of the concerns we have that we brought up with the vet is that Honey has this habit of licking spots on each or her front paws until those spots are completely raw--we thought maybe they were hot spots at first, but she kept doing it, so we thought maybe she had a skin disorder or an allergy. The vet assured us that it's nothing as serious as that. Apparently, these are called lick granulomas--a dog can become obsessed with licking their paws because doing so leads to the release of endorphins, resulting in a sort of addiction to paw-licking. So...my dog likes to get high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R14JgZCTkSI/AAAAAAAABAc/DwZ7lQ9cF1g/s1600-h/DSCN2207.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142558276584706338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R14JgZCTkSI/AAAAAAAABAc/DwZ7lQ9cF1g/s320/DSCN2207.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;(She was a little scared of the camera)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She's also 15 pounds overweight and we have to put her on a diet. Poor puppy has had such a hard day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-825062935395440408?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/825062935395440408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=825062935395440408' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/825062935395440408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/825062935395440408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-cute-lil-addict.html' title='My cute lil&apos; addict'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R14JgZCTkSI/AAAAAAAABAc/DwZ7lQ9cF1g/s72-c/DSCN2207.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-4026602842815345793</id><published>2007-12-12T15:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:55:15.562-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='silly controversy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>W&amp;M's new logo</title><content type='html'>The College of William and Mary has adopted a new logo after some big controversy erupted over the use of the feathers in the old one to signify us as "the Tribe." The logo was changed in the spirit of political correctness from this: &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R2B3NJCTkWI/AAAAAAAABA8/iselyWKSZzc/s1600-h/1+wm+logo.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143241842104701282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R2B3NJCTkWI/AAAAAAAABA8/iselyWKSZzc/s320/1+wm+logo.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To this:&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R2B0xJCTkVI/AAAAAAAABA0/V_eDVo1-JA8/s1600-h/2+wm+logo.jpg"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143239162045108562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R2B0xJCTkVI/AAAAAAAABA0/V_eDVo1-JA8/s320/2+wm+logo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;I didn't really have a problem with the feathers, but I understand the argument from those who do. I also understand that people hate the new logo, and why, but one of the reasons people keep harping on for why it sucks in, for example, a Facebook group called "Students Against the New W&amp;amp;M Logo," is the fact that the M in the new logo is just an upside down W. Now maybe it's just me, but isn't it obvious to anyone else that the M in the old logo is also just an upside down W? The new logo is ugly and boring, but at least get your argument straight if you want it to change.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-4026602842815345793?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/4026602842815345793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=4026602842815345793' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/4026602842815345793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/4026602842815345793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2007/12/w-new-logo.html' title='W&amp;M&apos;s new logo'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R2B3NJCTkWI/AAAAAAAABA8/iselyWKSZzc/s72-c/1+wm+logo.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-154566738132319588</id><published>2008-01-11T06:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:55:15.111-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sightings'/><title type='text'>Close Encounters of the Food Network Kind</title><content type='html'>Let's just get this out of the way: I love the Food Network. It started with a slight fascination with how Rachael Ray was able to cook so many meals in under 30 minutes, and has since turned into a passion for &lt;em&gt;Iron Chef America&lt;/em&gt;, Alton Brown, the "secret life" of anything from garlic to diner food, and &lt;em&gt;Unwrapped &lt;/em&gt;(a show that reminds me of my favorite part of &lt;em&gt;Mister Rogers' Neighborhood&lt;/em&gt; where they would go to a factory to see how something like saxophones are made from start to finish). So imagine my excitement when, on a simple excursion to Aroma's in Williamsburg, I meet the queen of the Food Network herself:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R4eFZzvwlOI/AAAAAAAABCk/GGT2_mPtu5g/s1600-h/DianaMillerPaulaDeen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154234976982570210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R4eFZzvwlOI/AAAAAAAABCk/GGT2_mPtu5g/s320/DianaMillerPaulaDeen.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It's Paula Deen, y'all!* She's just as perky and nice in person as she is on TV, but you can never tell if that's for real. She looks so happy in this picture, and she does a great job of hiding her cigarette from the camera. &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*I do not now, nor have I ever nor will I ever, use the word "y'all." I was imitating Paula Deen who adds it to the end of every single sentence she says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-154566738132319588?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/154566738132319588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=154566738132319588' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/154566738132319588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/154566738132319588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2008/01/close-encounters-of-food-network-kind.html' title='Close Encounters of the Food Network Kind'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R4eFZzvwlOI/AAAAAAAABCk/GGT2_mPtu5g/s72-c/DianaMillerPaulaDeen.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-7318222887132636463</id><published>2008-01-15T07:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:55:14.915-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sightings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lists'/><title type='text'>Listography, Part II</title><content type='html'>I've been wanting to post another list from the fantastic book I got for Christmas, &lt;em&gt;Listography&lt;/em&gt;, but couldn't decide which to do. Inspired by my recent brush with fame, I've decided to post my list of celebrity encounters. It's pretty short, but hopefully it's a little interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Alex Trebek. When I was a junior or senior (or maybe it was the summer in between) in high school, the &lt;em&gt;Jeopardy! &lt;/em&gt;people came to Okinawa to try to find contestants. I took the test and obviously failed, but I still got to meet Alex. Actually everyone got to since he held an autograph session thingy where everyone on the island lined up for him to sign these 5x7 pictures of himself. It was right after he shaved his mustache, so it was almost impossible to recognize him in-person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R4zaizvwlPI/AAAAAAAABCs/Wn59iG_QG9k/s1600-h/scan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155735964973307122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R4zaizvwlPI/AAAAAAAABCs/Wn59iG_QG9k/s320/scan.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;*The Donnas. The summer after my freshman year of college, I went to Lollapalooza in Dallas and the Donnas were the first ones up on the main stage. Before getting tickets I had never listened to them, so I bought their newest CD at the time, &lt;em&gt;Spend the Night&lt;/em&gt;, and absolutely loved it. After they played, they went to a booth to sign autographs, so my now ex-boyfriend and I got in line. Let me set up the scene here: It was August in Dallas on a day that was as humid as that part of Texas gets since it had been raining earlier, I wasn't wearing sunscreen since it was supposed to be overcast and stormy all day, when we first got there I had had a huge strawberry daiquiri, I had a migraine from standing too close to some speakers, and I was seriously dehydrated. Standing in line for more than half an hour, I started to feel really nauseated. I don't want to go into too much detail since it's all pretty disgusting, but I'll just say that things got much worse before they got better, but I didn't get out of line and I still got their autographs. Also something I will always remember: at a booth adjacent to the Donnas', 30 Seconds to Mars was signing autographs and because of some time limit you could only pick one band to stand in line for. I do not listen to 30 Seconds to Mars and couldn't care less about the rest of the band, but I am a huge fan of &lt;em&gt;My So-Called Life&lt;/em&gt;, and, as some of you may know, the lead singer of 30StM is none other than Jordan Catalano (aka Jared Leto). I was completely torn, but ultimately decided that the Donnas was the better choice since the only reason I really love Leto is because he was Jordan and I know he &lt;em&gt;hates &lt;/em&gt;when people bring that up which makes me think he may be an asshole. Plus, he was wearing weird make-up and had eyeliner or mascara running down his face and he looked emaciated.&lt;/p&gt;*Sean Penn. A couple years ago I went to the Norfolk airport with one friend to pick up another, and as we were waiting for her flight to get in, another one arrived. Among the passengers was Sean Penn. No joke. I don't know why he was here, but there was a chauffeur and some other people there to greet him, and it was definitely him. If I know nothing else, I know celebrities. That may be a sad statement, but it's true. I wanted to approach him or maybe take a picture with my phone, but my friend kept me from doing so, reminding me of his penchant for punching out photographers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Ben McKenzie. With the exception of the last season, I loved &lt;em&gt;The OC&lt;/em&gt;. So I was ecstatic when a friend and I went to a panel on child soldiers in Uganda in DC this summer and he was there. I realize that it sounds bad to be so incredibly elated at an event for such a somber cause, but I could not contain myself. He was sitting in the front row, blocked from my line of vision, and about 15 minutes from the end my friend turns to me and tells me the guy from &lt;em&gt;The OC &lt;/em&gt;is up there. I totally think she's mistaken until I lean over and see him too. After the talk was over, I made a beeline up to him, possibly pushing 15 to 20 people out of my way in the process, and asked if I could have a picture with him. I may be shy and timid in every other way, but put a celebrity in front of me and I am as assertive as it gets. Here's the picture:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R4zazzvwlQI/AAAAAAAABC0/rASS3XdpKzQ/s1600-h/diana_ben1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155736257031083266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R4zazzvwlQI/AAAAAAAABC0/rASS3XdpKzQ/s320/diana_ben1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; He's really short and little in person, but even better-looking than on TV. Ryan Gosling was also there, actually on the panel, but I didn't get to meet him since every single person in the room surrounded him when they were done talking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Last, of course, is Paula Deen. Just scroll down to read all about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-7318222887132636463?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/7318222887132636463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=7318222887132636463' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/7318222887132636463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/7318222887132636463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2008/01/listography-part-ii.html' title='Listography, Part II'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R4zaizvwlPI/AAAAAAAABCs/Wn59iG_QG9k/s72-c/scan.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-6915817243200330774</id><published>2008-01-22T16:15:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:55:14.627-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sad'/><title type='text'>Hollywood Suffers a Loss</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R5aHSzvwlSI/AAAAAAAABDI/zOpHyoT81No/s1600-h/Heath+Collage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158459180397401378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R5aHSzvwlSI/AAAAAAAABDI/zOpHyoT81No/s320/Heath+Collage.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://afp.google.com/article/ALeqM5hSnffZ3qPhw5MxwRsbroU0BclsXA"&gt;This&lt;/a&gt; is so incredibly sad. It's really rare for a young actor to remain successful after he or she becomes too old to star in the teen fluff films that made them famous, but Heath Ledger was an exception. You can just go to &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0005132/"&gt;IMDB.com&lt;/a&gt; and look at his resume to see that he has matured in his choices since &lt;em&gt;10 Things I Hate About You&lt;/em&gt; (which even as fluff was still the best of that brand of movies) and &lt;em&gt;A Knight's Tale&lt;/em&gt; (entertaining even if not exactly award-winning), choosing better and more interesting roles as a deeply conflicted and gay cowboy in &lt;em&gt;Brokeback Mountain&lt;/em&gt; and as one of six incarnations of Bob Dylan in &lt;em&gt;I'm&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;Not There&lt;/em&gt;. It's truly unfortunate that such a promising talent had to succumb to the infamous dark side of fame, and it is heartbreaking to think of his young daughter having to grow up without her father.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-6915817243200330774?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/6915817243200330774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=6915817243200330774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/6915817243200330774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/6915817243200330774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2008/01/loss_22.html' title='Hollywood Suffers a Loss'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R5aHSzvwlSI/AAAAAAAABDI/zOpHyoT81No/s72-c/Heath+Collage.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-5858277422800324710</id><published>2008-02-02T11:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:55:14.465-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holiday'/><title type='text'>Six more weeks!</title><content type='html'>Happy Groundhog Day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R6TAuUn_-eI/AAAAAAAABIU/mcupZxPloUw/s1600-h/Big_Bill_In_Groundhog-731047-789407.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162462974916426210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R6TAuUn_-eI/AAAAAAAABIU/mcupZxPloUw/s320/Big_Bill_In_Groundhog-731047-789407.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Punxsutawney Phil says six more weeks of winter. He released the following statement:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"As I look around me, a bright sky I see, and a shadow beside me. Six more weeks of winter it will be!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To celebrate this, the greatest of all weather forecasting holidays, try to catch the classic &lt;em&gt;Groundhog Day &lt;/em&gt;on TV. It shouldn't be too hard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-5858277422800324710?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/5858277422800324710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=5858277422800324710' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/5858277422800324710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/5858277422800324710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2008/02/six-more-weeks.html' title='Six more weeks!'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R6TAuUn_-eI/AAAAAAAABIU/mcupZxPloUw/s72-c/Big_Bill_In_Groundhog-731047-789407.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-1856039753064570341</id><published>2008-02-08T15:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:55:14.292-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nieces'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='coming up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holiday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='links'/><title type='text'>Things to look forward to</title><content type='html'>*St. Patrick's Day in Savannah. One of my good friends from undergrad lives in Savannah and I'm going to visit her for the weekend before St. Patrick's Day so I can go to the big parade and drink in the streets. I could not be more excited since I went there last year in April and had the best time--Savannah is definitely one of the best places I've ever been, partly because it's beautiful and historic and all that, but partly because of the no open container laws (there's nothing more freeing than ordering a cocktail to go). This is my favorite picture from last year:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R6zrTkn__BI/AAAAAAAABOg/NpL1zPjd7aw/s1600-h/n7609849_31204416_1470.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164761594168605714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R6zrTkn__BI/AAAAAAAABOg/NpL1zPjd7aw/s320/n7609849_31204416_1470.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love those trees. The weather is going to be amazing (if it doesn't rain, knock on wood) and there are going to be so many people in town when I'm there. According to Wikipedia, Savannah's St. Pat's parade has the largest crowd with over 750,000 people in attendance in 2006. That's &lt;em&gt;insane&lt;/em&gt;! Also according to Wikipedia, it's a tradition for female spectators to kiss male members of the armed forces marching in the parade...I'm not sure I'll be continuing that tradition (but who knows, because as I've already mentioned, there will be drinking in the streets). To commemorate the event, my friend (a graphic designer) and her boyfriend have made these super cool t-shirts and they're going to be all entrepreneurial and sell them (the front says "SAVANNAH"): &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R6zre0n__CI/AAAAAAAABOo/LRDRLC17L5k/s1600-h/Savannah+T+Shirt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164761787442134050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R6zre0n__CI/AAAAAAAABOo/LRDRLC17L5k/s320/Savannah+T+Shirt.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will definitely be buying one and &lt;a href="http://www.sarahlouisemeurer.com/tshirt"&gt;you can, too&lt;/a&gt;. There are only 34 days until I leave and 35 until the parade--they're holding it on Friday the 14th instead of the 17th since apparently there's some kind of holy week taking place then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*My dad's retirement. On April 10th, which also happens to be my birthday, my dad will be retiring from the Air Force after 30 years of being in. It's kind of a big deal and a bunch of people might be coming in from out of town, including my grandparents, some family friends we knew on Okinawa, and my sister's family. Of course I'm always excited to see my nieces, but this is going to be especially exciting since April 11th is Savannah's first birthday. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R6zrvUn__DI/AAAAAAAABOw/7NcsyvCiCqA/s1600-h/baby+swimsuit+model.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164762070909975602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R6zrvUn__DI/AAAAAAAABOw/7NcsyvCiCqA/s320/baby+swimsuit+model.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The end of graduate school at William and Mary. It's coming and it is less than three months away. &lt;em&gt;Crazy&lt;/em&gt;! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-1856039753064570341?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/1856039753064570341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=1856039753064570341' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/1856039753064570341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/1856039753064570341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2008/02/things-to-look-forward-to.html' title='Things to look forward to'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R6zrTkn__BI/AAAAAAAABOg/NpL1zPjd7aw/s72-c/n7609849_31204416_1470.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2262255979945013736.post-4516760960883179956</id><published>2008-02-12T12:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:55:13.575-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bragging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daily'/><title type='text'>Making freedom count</title><content type='html'>Today I voted in the Virginia primary. I can't tell you who I voted for because if I do it won't come true. For performing my civic duty, I got this nifty sticker that I've been wearing with pride since 7:30 this morning:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R7IGf1UB3eI/AAAAAAAABPA/UsFVMX3rwDc/s1600-h/9437.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166198866504179170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R7IGf1UB3eI/AAAAAAAABPA/UsFVMX3rwDc/s200/9437.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm jealous of those who voted in Williamsburg and were given stickers proclaiming that they made freedom count. Yet another reason Hampton blows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2262255979945013736-4516760960883179956?l=bulletedformat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/feeds/4516760960883179956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2262255979945013736&amp;postID=4516760960883179956' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/4516760960883179956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2262255979945013736/posts/default/4516760960883179956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bulletedformat.blogspot.com/2008/02/making-freedom-count.html' title='Making freedom count'/><author><name>Diana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04592929397381943027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05382449243793230674'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nGOlmxv_QgA/R7IGf1UB3eI/AAAAAAAABPA/UsFVMX3rwDc/s72-c/9437.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry></feed>