tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12216988481989188332024-03-05T00:17:08.795-08:00Sunny Side Upalibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.comBlogger54125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-17474582134288407482011-05-30T16:43:00.000-07:002011-05-30T16:45:27.382-07:00New Blog- GO HERE NOW!I know it's been decades since I last blogged, here is my new blog. Hope you'll stop by and show some love!<br /><br /><a href="http://alisonian.tumblr.com">alisonian.tumblr.com</a><br /><br /><a href="http://alisonian.tumblr.com">The Alisonian</a>alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-26715136671768088212010-04-26T23:42:00.000-07:002010-04-26T23:49:09.322-07:00in your atmosphere<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF0cVS86i8AP8U4ZbsMnC4tS7CT15rsX562KfGoRx6x2tjkONToI8VYhDC87GkOwTlt3V4p4axGh6igJELoipxZrW46yzVvqt4OXwYhrTGYCHoMJ6q7RfIBPUliGnAzLbJBFQq7nDtnKD6/s1600/chess.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF0cVS86i8AP8U4ZbsMnC4tS7CT15rsX562KfGoRx6x2tjkONToI8VYhDC87GkOwTlt3V4p4axGh6igJELoipxZrW46yzVvqt4OXwYhrTGYCHoMJ6q7RfIBPUliGnAzLbJBFQq7nDtnKD6/s400/chess.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464705368341173794" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><br /></span></div><div>I feel as though my life is standing still and the rest of the world is whirling about me.</div></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Faces move so fast they are blurred and unrecognizable. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Streaks of light fill my frame of vision, like flashes of what used to be. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Nothing is telling me to stay still. But nothing is calling me to move either. The choice is mine and I'm unsure. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Still I stay, blanketed in anonymity. If I can't see them, they can't see me. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">My eyes saccade to glimpse words or people and I wonder if its a sign of something. Is this telling me to move? Or telling me to be still? Which path will be richer? More lush?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Which path will show me love? The kind of love where I love him as fiercely as he loves me. The kind of love the ebbs and flows as the sea but is as constant as the waves. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">What if I choose wrong? What if I already tasted this love and gave it away? Will that be all for me? Is this the end or the beginning? They look so similar. Shall I stay until someone or something wills me to move? Or shall I move before I'm sure? </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">My Queen is exposed and my pawns have run amok yet the clock is ticking on my turn. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Then suddenly it all seems so clear. Blurred vision comes into focus and I am pulled back into the atmosphere. Living off hope and dreams that will not be wasted on my youth. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Check Mate.</span></span></div>alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-41162291657830708982010-04-16T22:18:00.000-07:002010-04-16T22:32:11.500-07:00Happy Birthday Nelly (woops forgot)<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxRMlGwTj2q-cYl6RBh0p7ZmcgEHfTBbHgHzLlBoyYsUz-LVNDuA7rJQDfy6pR71aLAqjr0dNYczyv--QAf1g' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />I forgot to post this when it happened. My little Penelope turned one on Valentine's Day. She got a new dress from grandma, a cake and a birthday hat (of course!). All were a hit, except for the cake. As the pickiest eater on the planet, I can't complain that my child is one too.alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-36120695025236399102010-01-06T23:13:00.000-08:002010-01-06T23:30:06.484-08:00Get your space....before it's gone.<span style="font-family: arial;font-size:130%;" ><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;font-size:130%;" >I was thinking about heaven...you know...what its gonn</span><span style="font-family: arial;font-size:130%;" >a be like and stuff. I know what you're thinking. Mighty precocious of you to just assume you are going to heaven. Well I am. Of course I'm going and Penny is coming too. I decided that its probably like a really big mall. Like huge mall. Like think Dubai mall times infinity. And we will all have a store. Everyone gets a store. Like my old orthodontist will definitely have the tie store Tie One On. Alex Trebec will have Men's Warehouse. Michelle Obama will have Anne Taylor. Lindsey Lohan will have the pharmacy etc.etc.etc. Oh, and every celebrity that has ever made a perfume will be stuck behind the perfume counter in a department store. Because celebrity perfumes bug me and this is my heaven so I make all the rules. Anyway... I want my store to be Anthropologie.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;font-size:130%;" ><br />(Cue harp music)<br /><br /><br /></span><a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLLsUuv5MujNjPwj6xtXwb35qSpjklxy_VBdEMXyQ4tW2Dbys6bPQPsgdfnhzZN5pccz7x2tqpBVtn_FET4An3VcYyHP5ho9ve13vzJdECj_IcHWyw3HspplqaU9fRMA2pc_OsjPJWodQo/s1600-h/anthropologie-09may2008124415149999.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 317px; height: 379px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLLsUuv5MujNjPwj6xtXwb35qSpjklxy_VBdEMXyQ4tW2Dbys6bPQPsgdfnhzZN5pccz7x2tqpBVtn_FET4An3VcYyHP5ho9ve13vzJdECj_IcHWyw3HspplqaU9fRMA2pc_OsjPJWodQo/s400/anthropologie-09may2008124415149999.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423892926093240386" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: arial;font-size:130%;" >Whenever I have a bad day, the <a href="http://www.anthropologie.com/">Anthropologie</a> website is definitely on my top five pick-me-up sites (and simultaneously depressing because who can afford to furnish their wardrobe or house from there. Like seriously, who are you? Send me an email or something because I want to meet for tea and talk about how great your life is or something.) Farmville is #1 - obviously. If I had only known what a great farmer I was before I started college I could have studied agriculture and been a millionaire. (okay- hundred-thousandaire) You know what they say... hindsight is 20/20. Digg.com is somewhere in there as is a youtube search of television bloopers. Nothing makes me laugh like a weatherman accidentally dropping the F-bomb on live TV, and then the face they make when they realize what just happened. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q_BLggf-mqs">This</a> one also gets me every time. Wait wait wait....back to heaven.<br /><br />Okay, so Anthropologie. Not the outlet, the real one. God, if you're listening, its all I will ever ask for. You see, I've already worked everything out. I will sleep in the display bed on all of the pretty linens wearing silky pajamas. I will pretend-cook in the kitchen accessories nook, reading from recipe etiquette books dictating which French pastry I should serve with English tea; and regular etiquette books explaining how many forks to serve with a bowl of ice cream. During the day I will climb the tree branch window display, bathe in the tub full of candles and try on clothes in the dressing lounge (which will have skinny mirrors- you know the ones.)<br /><br />I want no cherub angels singing or horns trumpeting. I only want the soundtrack of cooing little-known indie artists mixed with the melodies of local songbirds. The other people in heaven can come shop in my Anthropologie store (they will be attracted by the outrageous smell of incense as they walk by) and they will ask me who sings the song that is playing, and I will condescendingly say "OMG- you don't know Bangater Highway?? You haven't lived until you have listened to Bangater." (Bangater Highway will be a band that I start with the people who live in the Roxy/Quicksilver store, one token girl from the Amoeba Records store, and one guy from McDonalds--you know-- to get free food and stuff.) And then I will show them the Bangater Highway CD. Once they are lured into the store, they won't be able to leave without purchasing my irresistible goodies. I will kindly explain to them that there is no use having a coffee table if you don't have at least 3 coffee table books about Audrey Hepburn. During their purchase presentation, I will wrap their newly bought treasures in delicate tissue paper adorned with turtles and willow trees. I will also make a killing because of my outrageous prices and the fact that every item will be practical yet indulgent and money doesn't matter in heaven. duh....I mean wait a sec....<br /><br />So I don't have all the details ironed out yet, but I know real estate near my store is going fast- and you're gonna want to be next to me in heaven considering I have big plans for dance parties with special guest Taylor Swift. You cannot resist Taylor Swift. Don't even lie to yourself. You are not going to want to miss this....believe me you guys.<br /><br />Oh and God...if you're listening....please make sure I'm located next to the food court. Well, not right next store but maybe one or two stores down. You know how I am. Oh and no cell phone, acne cream or green tea weight loss kiosks by me...those guys are anoy-o.<br /><br />Thanks!<br /><br /></span>alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-15448084809289476522009-12-22T11:49:00.000-08:002009-12-22T11:52:56.679-08:00Lies- The good kind.<span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" >Oh my gosh you guys, isn't it great when someone assumes something about you thats better than your real life?!?<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj382C2moWNB8nEzSSoBvZkP0T9AHW-PNjB4ymT1WLuZKPXnckwbFsl8aLHNf0aheenQuOEJqU8F7zFzI787eoQG_Gu9uibD0wj-9wbqtGkYp6nlZaIKpSZd1tr0Bud0pKdAOC4Qki2iWbH/s1600-h/fam.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 246px; height: 246px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj382C2moWNB8nEzSSoBvZkP0T9AHW-PNjB4ymT1WLuZKPXnckwbFsl8aLHNf0aheenQuOEJqU8F7zFzI787eoQG_Gu9uibD0wj-9wbqtGkYp6nlZaIKpSZd1tr0Bud0pKdAOC4Qki2iWbH/s400/fam.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418150708981601090" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" >I recently got in a car accident, and because of incredibly unreal circumstances, I had to fly to Utah to purchase a new car. More on this later. I brought my dog on the flight to Utah. More on this later. During the flight, the flight attendant brought me my tomato juice and begin small talking me. I told him I was going to SLC to buy a car and drive it back to L.A. because that is where we lived (meaning me and my dog). "I hope you get back to your husband safely," he cheered. His teeth were so white. Like he got photoshopped, but in real life. I glanced down at my ring finger, (see tangent) it was empty as were the rest of my fingers. I smiled a huge smile at him that seemed to shoo him away.<br /><br />TANGENT-<br /><br />A while ago, I worked on an Academy Award winning film entitled Frat Party(no I'm not posting a link to the trailer!). I'm totally lying about the Academy Award part. It was a pretty crappy film- think American Pie meets Paris Hilton. I worked in the art department. Part of my job was to make sure the main character had on her engagement ring (which I purchased at Walmart) in the right scenes (because everything is shot out of order). After the shoot was over, I would wear the ring on a variety of outings including grocery store shopping, taking my dog to school, and of course, hiking. sue me.<br /><br />TANGENT OVER-<br /><br /><br />The rest of the flight, I could hardly wipe the silly grin off my face. Partly because I felt like I was getting away with something equivalent to a bank robbery, partly because I was so excited I was married to such a great man and we had such amazing kids. Of course since I was little, I have been picturing my future family. But was I there yet? I am so used to being Alison Brough- stays up late and sleeps in, moves to strange towns with no notice, eats lean cuisine every night and watches The Notebook way more often than should be legal. Was I ready to be Alison Brough- sleeps on the right side of the bed while my husband sleeps on the left, plans my day around nap times, cooks dinners that don't come in a box?<br /><br />The weirdest things trigger my future family day dreams. I'll be walking through Walmart and stop to play a video game with a controller that only has three working buttons. Suddenly I'm at my wedding. Somehow it takes place on a sunny beach and in a snowy winter cabin. Everyone is throwing there heads back laughing and toasting glittering flutes of something or other. In the corner there are 3 or 4 flat screens equipped with every boy video game imaginable (and of course Mario Brothers for me). That way all my friends can stay at my wedding all night without their husbands nagging them to leave, because their husbands will be knee-deep in a halo tournament. Just as we step outside to run barefoot on the beach, Im suddenly back in the Walmart. Mario has died and the 11-year-old behind me is jonesing for his turn.<br /><br />I peruse the isles of Walmart- still thinking about my husband. He's hilarious. I'm pretty sure he wears glasses. He's probably a chef. That will be our hilarious irony. He will cook himself fancy dishes of caviar and scallops with touches of lavender and dashes of truffle oil and he will make me a pb & j with a side of brusselsprouts (my fave- on fancy nights he'll cut up banana slices on the peanut butter side). But he'll love me a lot. Not despite the fact that I have the tasting palate of a 6th grader, but because of it. Just like I will love how he sings super loud and off key in the shower and the car. And how he throws things at the tv when "his team" is losing.<br /><br />As for our kids- they are a mess. But cute. You know the messy-cute kind of kids. Hair is equal parts curly and tangled. Little bit of happy meal ketchup on their cute little cheeks. Wearing hot pink moon boots in the middle of summer. But they will say things like "yes ma'am" and "thank you sir" and "my mommy says cheese is a food group." We'll make lots of home movies of us jumping in piles of fall leaves and sledding trash can lids down hills that are freshly blanketed in snow. And when they are old enough, we will definitely have board game night. I will have no mercy when I dominate monopoly.<br /><br />I wonder. Is this what that flight attendant saw when he willed me to return safely to my husband?<br /><br />If you're not hoping for something, you might as well be dead. Right?<br /><br />My hope is that my day-dream family always feels like this. Even when they're my real family. Like I'm getting away with a crime or something. I'll walk the isles of Walmart with a perma-smile thinking how awesome my husband and kids are. And then one of my kids will trip on their moon boots and bust their face on the Walmart store floor. </span>alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-87657225543437183322009-12-04T17:43:00.000-08:002009-12-04T17:51:54.048-08:00The Greatest Gift.<span style="font-size:130%;">The greatest gift I have ever gotten was from my mom.<br /><br />She told me to <span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);">FOLLOW MY DREAMS</span>. And she kept telling me until I believed her.<br /><br />I used to come home everyday with a new one (and by used to I mean still do) I had 7 or 8 different majors in college. Not because I didn't like any of them, but because I loved them ALL. I still think of jobs all the time that I would love to do such as dog groomer and flower shop delivery person.<br /><br />I consider it a luxury to have someone to call and tell about my desire to become a professional quilter and know that she is going to think it is a great idea. If I ever have kids (i really hope i do) I hope I can be that person for them. </span>alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-71066600165202780462009-11-29T13:25:00.001-08:002009-11-29T13:45:06.041-08:00Im the big wiener!So I have never won anything before. Well gird your loins because my luck is shifting. Actually I take it all back, I play the lottery here a lot and when I play Daily 5 I usually win a free play. But other than that nothin. No concert tickets from the radio, no mall drawings to win a free car, no publishers clearing house knocking down my door on thanksgiving day.<br /><br />Well, I just won a giveaway of a homemade turkey magnet from my friend <a href="http://lanieree.blogspot.com/">Helena's</a> blog. I remember like three months ago when she asked facebook if she should start a blog. I enthusiastically advocated it to begin. Well its only been three months and I would say she is probably in the 150 posts range. And she is hilarious to boot. So if you are looking for a good blog to stalk, I whole-heartedly reccomend her. My favorite storyline of her life is her adventures with the Wives in Pittsburgh.<br /><br />My other blog topic is the BYU Utah game.<br /><br />Ok- I am a Ute fan. Its where my degree is from and I just decided to root for them. Everyone seems to be all up in arms about BYU QB Mall Hall's comments. I gotta say- I just don't think its a big deal. Who cares about talking trash in a press conference. So what he doesn't like the Utes. Did you think he would have good things to say?<br /><br /> Remember his playing last year? Imagine the hell he has been living for the last 12 months getting constant flack about last years game. He was riled up. And us Ute fans are a rowdy crowd. I don't doubt that someone Ute related probably poured beer on his parents (now they have to repent...kidding kidding...but bummer that BYU doesn't give the QB's parents some space in the booth). Who cares?<br /><br />But my biggest complaint is with all of us Ute fans calling him "classless." That was his insult duh. Can't we come up with something original to say or are we gonna just keep saying "i know you are but what am i"? I hold us to higher creative standards than that. For instance, lets draw some cartoons or make some video mashups. But lets be gracious losers. We should really be kissing the feet of Max Hall right now because he just pissed us off so much that there is NO WAY we will ever lose to them again.alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-9047898366161561892009-11-23T15:46:00.000-08:002009-11-23T16:51:54.934-08:00Team Cinemetographer??<div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:180%;">My New Moon Review<br /></span></div><br /><br /><table style="width: 530px; height: 295px;"> <tbody><tr><td><img style="width: 253px; height: 252px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG1vcBgtXg9lLP-nXB3u8ZJVRw-wDoGWWikqLfgVrAkD38FnzAU2TmC17PogDXM1aTbH88LzjuSqmG5y0isFkhzpl3Ab4lnZIHtEBosk3bBJbH9eJLECdd58guVXLPGi6EkKNr4G5nL3yt/s400/alicenewmoon.jpg" border="0" /> <p></p></td> <td><img style="width: 190px; height: 262px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-viGNIZbARSDaVRZCebW0lfxpNG00-wBqMsqSjwguZYCPUbvYnt2d7Ge0yKq63u6RX6B4h_7rZeL8f4X-BrHde1Wb7hp187leYW9H5pZqPF2Oow7r6wwc93PYyVzzuvi23AUSN0kg3T0/s400/taylor-lautner-twilight.jpg" border="0" /> <p></p></td></tr> </tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;" >Today I saw New Moon. If you know me, you know that I don't like any talking during movies, so I purposely waited until I could go to a showing where there would be no screaming girls. Here is my review.<br /><br />I am blown away by the cinematography in this film. It was spectacular. I especially enjoyed the scene with the wolves fighting where they gave the impression that, in the midst of their fight, they knocked over a camera. The only time the camera work bothered me was during the lunchroom scenes. I wish they would have just put it on a tripod instead of doing the hand-held wiggle. I'm rarely a fan of "reality style shooting" unless its a reality show. Overall the cinematography gets an A+++ in my book.<br /><br />I felt, as I felt in the last film, that the acting by the two leads was sub par...particularly Kristen Stewart. For me, she is a one note. She has one expression, one mood, one body language, etc. How am I supposed to believe that two handsome men fell in love with her when she is so blase? In the book she is portrayed as clumsy but charming. I think Ms. Stewart failed to tap into that and, in doing so, failed her stronger co-stars. On a positive note, I thought the acting by Jacob, Alice, and Laurent was superb. Jacob is so handsome, and not just his body, his face and acting as well. He really hit the spot! I couldn't get enough of him. He seemed like someone I know. Immature but irresistible. Protective, but not a bully. I would give him best actor and I would give alice best actress. This is probably personal, but she is exactly as I pictured her in the book. I think Alice is a role that could have been portrayed as cheesy and over-the-top, but in this film she seemed really genuine.<br /><br />Overall, I think what stands out most in the films is the story. When you think of being in love, what is the absolute worst thing that could possibly happen? One of the lovers dying...and what could be even worse than that?? loving, and simultaneously wanting to kill, the one you love. Its unimaginable. Which is why I think all credit should go to the author, Stephanie Meyer.</span>alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-76223617266534383782009-11-21T12:57:00.000-08:002009-11-21T13:12:56.350-08:00um....awk....waaaard....If you have never ventured <a href="http://awkwardfamilyphotos.com/">here</a>...you need to start. It really brightens my day so much of the time. I actually just submitted a pic, I will let you know if it gets picked up. But for now...here are some hilarious awkward family photos...remember...people payed for these. Like the clerk brought up the sample image and they said "yes! that is it! perfect! lets buy it and hang it in our house."<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwBP63Jf_8cnIb8YgxOnJyzmOK5iKWxljZWgwtmUM4NQWbJFgMrdXWc8gqtRIXDj7SthVapyW_Nu9r5tZUiM1ReYztTgiJgiYlDEF35iyfpzjoeTn0-E9UIwsB6NiefnQHepuqijpbHbEP/s1600/afp10.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwBP63Jf_8cnIb8YgxOnJyzmOK5iKWxljZWgwtmUM4NQWbJFgMrdXWc8gqtRIXDj7SthVapyW_Nu9r5tZUiM1ReYztTgiJgiYlDEF35iyfpzjoeTn0-E9UIwsB6NiefnQHepuqijpbHbEP/s400/afp10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406664637728384226" border="0" /></a>(Unless you're in the beard business, Im not buying what you're selling. PS cats in photos is never good)<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAWzgRZy2j5k-MuEpnlOursPxhxFUNl79gTZoq-EYVpHYaDInKt_3aQlx2B7ynPTFNuEdbjjOcJqCtcQd3K6S-d2Ydr0kOWhyphenhyphente_d94CYh6B24SfW4UbSAGtZXkNsktmsnmU78riTSH6SU/s1600/afp9.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 305px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAWzgRZy2j5k-MuEpnlOursPxhxFUNl79gTZoq-EYVpHYaDInKt_3aQlx2B7ynPTFNuEdbjjOcJqCtcQd3K6S-d2Ydr0kOWhyphenhyphente_d94CYh6B24SfW4UbSAGtZXkNsktmsnmU78riTSH6SU/s400/afp9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406664632443748722" border="0" /></a>("I know....PINK TOGAS" squeeled the little boy)<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy_yD5FVFy8qQLxmkFENe6SFIZ53Oe8VGSrFFbObAWOtJq_awn5-KgFnAr9hK53Epg23EBqr_4_b3zyFr03kqsBlhY5hutdafCvhu83BBaIFdq_bf7W8xKVF88T2xgFtmWeXQKTdNO4pnv/s1600/afp8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 312px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy_yD5FVFy8qQLxmkFENe6SFIZ53Oe8VGSrFFbObAWOtJq_awn5-KgFnAr9hK53Epg23EBqr_4_b3zyFr03kqsBlhY5hutdafCvhu83BBaIFdq_bf7W8xKVF88T2xgFtmWeXQKTdNO4pnv/s400/afp8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406664624063668050" border="0" /></a>no comment<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Yjg6BJDfaaFqxDS_764RGxaf6x-OHVnBiTjgjGHImaoXfysQJUmYQ5BT5uWvoN7jtyLVnJqgYOj7BzZgJEz7pr8vaC7zRLfF1kY9vg7kZn2Ai_jRNZ2f0CClHu3ip2_AIzDmTorflxJ5/s1600/afp7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 304px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Yjg6BJDfaaFqxDS_764RGxaf6x-OHVnBiTjgjGHImaoXfysQJUmYQ5BT5uWvoN7jtyLVnJqgYOj7BzZgJEz7pr8vaC7zRLfF1kY9vg7kZn2Ai_jRNZ2f0CClHu3ip2_AIzDmTorflxJ5/s400/afp7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406664619416603378" border="0" /></a>(One of you need to go to the groomer...yep im lookin at you glasses.)<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-aA0nAhI92k0HwDXmkSg5F1MGWEyHGdem1-JN2uM2BdX992SVYRdQPsfN2kgdWXmRIcpsLW4w-1hPzxrNts8oFCVt8_IcTxxMvE9w3dz2CnmrWN9yBWPmwGbyf4dTJdCJfQifVU6ZhcXS/s1600/afp6.bmp"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 376px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-aA0nAhI92k0HwDXmkSg5F1MGWEyHGdem1-JN2uM2BdX992SVYRdQPsfN2kgdWXmRIcpsLW4w-1hPzxrNts8oFCVt8_IcTxxMvE9w3dz2CnmrWN9yBWPmwGbyf4dTJdCJfQifVU6ZhcXS/s400/afp6.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406664435178398722" border="0" /></a>(Arrrrg? Please note the fathers leg position.)<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbuO1paxrso1D2lB0tmT9dCHiL25SYufNGb8STG4bb4XBiNdsd7J6PnbqaH5AhMpHwcAvzCY01R-gtVU-v7Pf836oE_7ii8JuvLLaFOcc_4ycmLKau6BQXksz4GhaheL-FzQ3zJB6BrCFn/s1600/afp5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 340px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbuO1paxrso1D2lB0tmT9dCHiL25SYufNGb8STG4bb4XBiNdsd7J6PnbqaH5AhMpHwcAvzCY01R-gtVU-v7Pf836oE_7ii8JuvLLaFOcc_4ycmLKau6BQXksz4GhaheL-FzQ3zJB6BrCFn/s400/afp5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406664426219680658" border="0" /></a>("Honey, what shirt should I wear for the pic?" "Wear your cocaine one!")<br /></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzJMPDGybS0W-3VvDWdkOA7GMkVJAoDAJ8h28z1WbtuNYc67kKxo34KCAH14xqVRDk_x1Sv884kWS0G4N3hXpLOhufMEV9O1zamAjStaqkBzbxNgTtsu6uLFlnb8WRiSwgAqepZE_RyGR7/s1600/afp4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 321px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzJMPDGybS0W-3VvDWdkOA7GMkVJAoDAJ8h28z1WbtuNYc67kKxo34KCAH14xqVRDk_x1Sv884kWS0G4N3hXpLOhufMEV9O1zamAjStaqkBzbxNgTtsu6uLFlnb8WRiSwgAqepZE_RyGR7/s400/afp4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406664426998768882" border="0" /></a>(Just another santa scaring the sh$t out of a little kid. Ps-10 buck that this girls name is harriet)<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVgF262j3VOk5yCfIL93ErDtvVO_FFKaQlf3pCJOmzeX_YKIsqdRLTe04H_mCvBSisSfukoYXsUrnIO_xXwu2Z5skacgfQpM0pVcxBt1YCvL0yVP2but1Fe9mQ2Ifzb8s03ZgisVjk60Dc/s1600/afp3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 285px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVgF262j3VOk5yCfIL93ErDtvVO_FFKaQlf3pCJOmzeX_YKIsqdRLTe04H_mCvBSisSfukoYXsUrnIO_xXwu2Z5skacgfQpM0pVcxBt1YCvL0yVP2but1Fe9mQ2Ifzb8s03ZgisVjk60Dc/s400/afp3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406664418076291122" border="0" /></a>(Gimme that ring and Ill give you my apple)<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik6XRAtMMSYkcjhv6E6l7kT1XctsVsQQJ-8iGr51_WRxYg48_2WJfLA0y7g4W37KDRl17Dxov7Gly9O4qzte6s-gDrsdKlK7WZ2a33xcark_i15wX1Zkn1rP0uuY5e_Lsa3MiRyV507_6G/s1600/afp2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 301px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik6XRAtMMSYkcjhv6E6l7kT1XctsVsQQJ-8iGr51_WRxYg48_2WJfLA0y7g4W37KDRl17Dxov7Gly9O4qzte6s-gDrsdKlK7WZ2a33xcark_i15wX1Zkn1rP0uuY5e_Lsa3MiRyV507_6G/s400/afp2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406664408004008690" border="0" /></a>(no no no...climb under the chair....ya...like that.)<br /></div>alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-48070999755792498312009-11-19T17:05:00.001-08:002009-11-19T17:24:08.391-08:00My heart is sad.<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Best Friends Forever</span><br /></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO0aGoL277cTWUXKCpd8IVhSWZIBBCwae1ES2k8rxXPosFYRug0UPLDLNFR6lXBQlw_oAPv67-kqRWQLnPB21Dc0yEvaSzCK0b5isn0Z4zj0fyDC80fFKlOAcDvfFzDmGoHizcQbes9jQC/s1600/oprah_winfrey.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 379px; height: 379px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO0aGoL277cTWUXKCpd8IVhSWZIBBCwae1ES2k8rxXPosFYRug0UPLDLNFR6lXBQlw_oAPv67-kqRWQLnPB21Dc0yEvaSzCK0b5isn0Z4zj0fyDC80fFKlOAcDvfFzDmGoHizcQbes9jQC/s400/oprah_winfrey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405988544749498162" border="0" /></a><br />I heard through the grapevine that my best friend (oprah) will be announcing that she will be ending her show in 2011.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4IGiVnk6buChdzbhqy7NF7svkLFhHa4EZomwinsF0ymwOXxNg_R5oipohiyI6iYm69u9NzhSbUvuK1CXbQUVpetlz7o5_eMgpMHdtFCtYP5el7gB6kiqpP7cz1kmvEGjVtTuB3_NBHXhJ/s1600/oprah1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 316px; height: 264px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4IGiVnk6buChdzbhqy7NF7svkLFhHa4EZomwinsF0ymwOXxNg_R5oipohiyI6iYm69u9NzhSbUvuK1CXbQUVpetlz7o5_eMgpMHdtFCtYP5el7gB6kiqpP7cz1kmvEGjVtTuB3_NBHXhJ/s400/oprah1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405989575318949426" border="0" /></a>(I know O- I am shocked too!)<br /><br /></div>Needless to say...my heart is broken.<br /><br /><br />She has been such a great influence for me. I really like her a lot. I don't think I have missed a show in over 5 years! I started watching religiously after I graduated high school. During my undergrad, my roommate and I would schedule our classes around her show. I really wanted to have her show around forever!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwBm8E1ZLRxi4F8ZPd-TghiUqnFCpehMeFQL6lXB2iIuG2ORqb7a67pUgVvaqQfsyCc3hi5eOq4huQ7-Px_minRVvUGhUk4FLS8NKaWn7LVpXkdQTY2iLebl8v0dTyniC-Q1YHjyb4f4mn/s1600/Oprah_1375665c.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 460px; height: 285px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwBm8E1ZLRxi4F8ZPd-TghiUqnFCpehMeFQL6lXB2iIuG2ORqb7a67pUgVvaqQfsyCc3hi5eOq4huQ7-Px_minRVvUGhUk4FLS8NKaWn7LVpXkdQTY2iLebl8v0dTyniC-Q1YHjyb4f4mn/s400/Oprah_1375665c.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405989864153710082" border="0" /></a><br />On a more positive note...anyone wanna plan a trip to chicago summer of 2010 to go see a taping of her last season????alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-70721460539742682842009-11-05T15:59:00.000-08:002009-11-05T16:10:15.591-08:00Riddle me this!I recently made chicken enchiladas. I bought boneless/skinless chicken breasts. I poached it and then had to shred it. During the 30 minute process, i spent at least 15 minutes dry heaving over the sink. Just thinking about it is giving me the willies. I cant handle meat in my house. All of my lean cuisines are vegetarian. The only times I successfully cook meat and eat it is when I BBQ it. But Im not a vegetarian. I like meat taste, I just cant handle actual meat. Most the time I just want all the meat chunks picked out. Like chicken noodle soup with no chicken- Yum!<br /><br />Here's the really weird part. I eat meat at places like subway and in n out and el pollo loco, cpk, chilis, olive garden, bosa nova, - i even eat baseball game hot dogs. I know their meat is probably super gross. Ive seen all the documentaries about it. But it just doesn't seem to bother me.<br /><br />I also have really strict rules about some meat. For example, bacon can't wiggle. When I hold up a slice of bacon and shake it around, it needs to be like a stick. no wiggling. Chicken cant be "slippery" I only like it dry. No dark meat anything. eww sick. no pink or bloodyness anywhere! maybe this is theraputic. Anyway- I want to change. I want to be a normal person and be able to cook meals with meat in them. How will anyone ever marry me if I boycott meat in the home?? Do I really want to raise a herd of meatless children (with the exception of restaurants and friends houses) NO! help please<br /><br />WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!!!!???????alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-18106881100567097702009-10-27T20:50:00.000-07:002009-10-27T20:55:20.780-07:00For the Twilight Fans!<div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:180%;">4 books in 16 frames<br /><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhopWI3n5MoLDV4AIHMULfU6s6GwghX4ATzw2j0G20Q1OU8GHM1a8A4Tz-h0t4gZ-WkrWZruwjs6eFA7kx7n2x-TajbzU5vYR8sskJ9PWgKH8Vn956Uu3FKmrUln0tyF3SO2F5G7IKvdoGQ/s1600-h/Picture+26.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 489px; height: 333px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhopWI3n5MoLDV4AIHMULfU6s6GwghX4ATzw2j0G20Q1OU8GHM1a8A4Tz-h0t4gZ-WkrWZruwjs6eFA7kx7n2x-TajbzU5vYR8sskJ9PWgKH8Vn956Uu3FKmrUln0tyF3SO2F5G7IKvdoGQ/s400/Picture+26.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397493787143493986" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbR9X6GeZFYWgUsY5Mo9PBeav2qDlpWyAIEBwT2dyneTHdDk6E-b_ibbA9q5Er0A6MQO9kmTQ3NbZEaheDQX3Rr4-99s35tDCIKQigrArN10VFTLj18vZqIwzmk9UZT8csLrFVHHKqi-uK/s1600-h/Picture+27.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 486px; height: 340px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbR9X6GeZFYWgUsY5Mo9PBeav2qDlpWyAIEBwT2dyneTHdDk6E-b_ibbA9q5Er0A6MQO9kmTQ3NbZEaheDQX3Rr4-99s35tDCIKQigrArN10VFTLj18vZqIwzmk9UZT8csLrFVHHKqi-uK/s400/Picture+27.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397493801124752338" border="0" /></a>alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-15357795052364790222009-10-27T20:32:00.000-07:002009-10-27T20:49:10.596-07:00Fun New Website!<span style="font-size:130%;">I have been following, and contributing (but mostly following) this website for a few months and I LOVE IT! I think you might too. It is call Soul Pancake. The premise is this: since when is religion, philosophy, ethics etc. taboo??? It isn't. Lets make it cool again.<br /><br />Before I give you the link, allow me to offer some advice to get the most out of it...<br /><br />Do not go here to preach...go here to share and learn. It is a place for ALL ideas to have merit. On soul pancake, there is no right answer the goal is to see what everyone thinks and then make your own observations based on that- it is not a place to try to convince others of your ways. It's beauty lies in the open marketplace of ideas.<br /><br />-Its not all religion- its art, beauty politics, entertainment, everything etc. For example- I don't deny that Lady Gaga makes art, its just not art that I like : )<br /><br /><br />Here is a question that I liked from today---</span><br /><br /> <h3 style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);">Why are we no longer the heroes of our own stories?</h3><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" >I'm not in movies. I don't have a three-novel contract with a major publishing house. Supermodels don't have me on speed-dial. Wikipedia doesn't have me listed. My name is never on the list—I </span><span style="font-size:130%;"><em style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);">always </em></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" >have to wait in line to get in. I look ordinary. I make enough money to get by. I am not a genius. I can't solve a Rubik's cube. And I'm luckiest when I work the hardest.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" >Go to soul pancake to read the rest...<br /><br /><br />Oh and here's the vid.</span><br /><br /><br /><object classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=9,0,0,0" id="kickWidget_38346_153524" height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://serve.a-widget.com/service/getWidgetSwf.kickAction"><param name="FlashVars" value="affiliateSiteId=38346&widgetId=153524&width=480&height=385&revision=30&autoPlay=0&mediaType_mediaID=video_593666&kaShare=1"><param name="wmode" value="window"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://serve.a-widget.com/service/getWidgetSwf.kickAction" name="kickWidget_38346_153524" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="window" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="affiliateSiteId=38346&widgetId=153524&width=480&height=385&revision=30&autoPlay=0&mediaType_mediaID=video_593666&kaShare=1" height="385" width="480"></embed></object><br /><br /><br />Happy Soul Pancaking!!!!alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-51661889693304961502009-10-27T19:34:00.000-07:002009-10-27T20:30:24.325-07:00Watch out...you might catch it.I had a doctors appointment today. Lately I have a reoccurring one once a month but today I went to a new doctor because I felt like my old doc wasn't doing much for me. As I was walking up to building 3 in the blazing California sun, I noticed a tall extrememly good looking gentlemen in a suit walking my way. I quickly noted to myself how glad I was that I opted not to wear my pajamas to the doctor and wore a cute little dress instead. Suddenly, a gust of wind came out of nowhere. The wind filled the bottom of my dress and blew it straight up revealing my goods to the handsome man My hands flailed frantically trying to find the fabric to pull it down but it was a lost cause. My bright orange panties were on display. Not only are they the color of a construction cone but the word "lucky" is splashed accross the front. I doubt he could read the words, but if he did it would be misleading because today, luck was nowhere to be found. ( Why do I own panties like that? I don't know. Actually because santa always seems to leave me dozens of them in my stocking and I always think "no ones ever gonna see them...who cares." Well now I know.) Of course I did what all people would do in that situation...never broke stride, looked at the ground, and pretended like that.did.not.just.happen.<br /><br />I should have known the doctor visit would be equally as crap filled. As the nurse took my vitals, she couldn't stop raving about how "healthy" I was. "Such good blood pressure." she said. "And your BMI is right where you should be....skinny people aren't always healthy you know." Wait does that mean Im not skinny? But... Ok I already knew that. I only sat in the room for .3 seconds and my doctor was there. She was so cute. "So we're following up on insomnia, huh?"<br /><br />I have now had insomnia for 4 years. FOUR YEARS. When I think about it I can't believe it. I know what your thinking...insominia? thats stupid. i wish i got more sleep too...but its not really like that. its like if i try to sleep for 8 hours, i will get 4 hours of sleep. I have a 50% sleep rate. If I wanted to get 8 hours of sleep, I would have to devote 16 hours to sleeping. Then every morning i wake up feeling like I got run over by a truck. Theres more but Im not trying to be a weenie winer...you get it. Sleep is needed to live. I am not a person that can live everyday off 4 hours. I need more. Mostly because I feel like I'm not my best self. I could be so much more creative, so much more accomplished, design so much more effective lesson plans if I only had more sleep. Ya know. After we go through every symptom she said what I have been dreading hearing the most. "Seems like you have tried everything and there just isn't anything I can do. Its like your head isn't listening to your body. But at least you're healthy right?" She went on to say that there are a small percentage of insomnia cases that aren't related to anxiety or depression but there isnt much help for them because they just cant figure out what causes it.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />What?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Can I have my co-pay back?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I started crying. But I know that my tears are merely drops in an ocean of tears of people struggling with illnesses. I guess she is right....at least im not dying. While I was waiting in the doctors office, this cute lady sat down next to me. She was wearing a surgical mask and had a really bad cough. She asked about the book I was reading and started making jokes about my toenail polish. She was lovely. She told me that she had lung cancer and that is why she was coughing. She had to wear the mask, not because she was contagoues, she wasn't, she wore it to protect herself. I was afraid to ask questions so I just nodded and smiled. She got back to cracking jokes and then my name was called.<br /><br />After my doctors visit, I went down to the pharmacy to get my birth control and the place was a mad house. I stood in line, placed my order, and took my spot on a green chair, ready to contemplate my future without sleep. Then the masked lady from the waiting room came down. She slides her mask down and winks in my direction with a smile. Then she starts to cough.<br /><br />Introduce Mean Lady from accross the room who throws her hands in the air. "Get your mask on lady, thats disgusting. Have some f#%*ing respect. Its people like you who all of us sick."<br /><br />Masked Lady reassured her in her thick spanish accent "no Im not contagious, Im wearing it because I'm sick and I need protection."<br /><br /> "Learn English!" Mean Lady interupted. "I demand you put your mask on."<br /><br />I couldn't help myself.<br /><br />"HEY" I yelled. "I demand YOU put a mask on."<br /><br />"I'm not even sick." Mean Lady said, "I'm picking up a perscription for my son. Mind your own business."<br /><br />"I demand you put a mask on, because I don't want to catch your bad attitude!" I sat down and resumed my seat.<br /><br />I'll deal with insomnia, I'll deal with the flu...but I don't want to catch a bad attitude.<br />(p.s. if you have any insomnia solutions...I would love to hear them : )alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-86922688764224820952009-10-24T23:23:00.000-07:002009-10-24T23:28:39.860-07:00Halloween Time<div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:180%;">Trick or Treat!!!!<br /></span></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2J7KIctrAk9PFPKr8K64IwdZx7RqVsWfj53FL3Ua6hSz8ixiR9SnGgx7Jf_gnVupVnGyVw8O-fV_5RCm0kx5PfinUKcCDNYL2S7SzzeHpWIZwj7-7MNRwOxQ6Df8AgQOuD8lqIAgAcYf8/s1600-h/Picture+25.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 484px; height: 497px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2J7KIctrAk9PFPKr8K64IwdZx7RqVsWfj53FL3Ua6hSz8ixiR9SnGgx7Jf_gnVupVnGyVw8O-fV_5RCm0kx5PfinUKcCDNYL2S7SzzeHpWIZwj7-7MNRwOxQ6Df8AgQOuD8lqIAgAcYf8/s400/Picture+25.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396419809001304706" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><span style="font-size:180%;">BOO!!!<br /></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-o0eN7BhiuFM0-4hU6xIUJ5Eeh3maqvtFCLJJclvNleCE4zPVjthAN79-YxkM-XpBmILdemKRLJxA9xsS364960WF7JwXwE9RhvkqJWz60PuBtKnSdpDaCltNP3tZea38xGRNRMRXuVF/s1600-h/Picture+24.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 479px; height: 529px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-o0eN7BhiuFM0-4hU6xIUJ5Eeh3maqvtFCLJJclvNleCE4zPVjthAN79-YxkM-XpBmILdemKRLJxA9xsS364960WF7JwXwE9RhvkqJWz60PuBtKnSdpDaCltNP3tZea38xGRNRMRXuVF/s400/Picture+24.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396419798514377858" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" ><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Happy Halloween!!!!</span></span><br /></div>alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-89765722884729414462009-10-16T11:28:00.000-07:002009-10-16T12:05:49.966-07:00Holy Crap<span style="font-size:130%;"><a style="font-family: courier new;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrBUFLOj2jU_TNjlCuoiutHAhF2cQZNgi19rViOtMyOx9JtKiuTjJJqbcxVqh9yJKv65IoICbhnGng8AKPGeJH23feTGVfHFM5_JZqJvtO9VjniUJe6u3wVRu97qWmw_3ww-3ljKPpt7fF/s1600-h/john.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 493px; height: 488px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrBUFLOj2jU_TNjlCuoiutHAhF2cQZNgi19rViOtMyOx9JtKiuTjJJqbcxVqh9yJKv65IoICbhnGng8AKPGeJH23feTGVfHFM5_JZqJvtO9VjniUJe6u3wVRu97qWmw_3ww-3ljKPpt7fF/s400/john.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393266694386553026" border="0" /></a></span> <span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: courier new;">Man-o-man dingo. John Mayer is a very sexy man. What I'm really excited for is underneath this jacket. Wait...i mean. Between the covers....like you know the cd covers. woah. ok like i mean...the music. phew. Is it hot in here? No? Just me? ok. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Suffice it to say Mr. Mayer's last album (continuum) changed my life. He's just one of those logophiles that speaks to my soul. He's 1 part dreamy mcstud-muffin and 1 part brutal honesty with a with a dash of sweet sophistication. Not to mention one of the greatest (if not THE) greatest guitar players of our generation. But his type of guitar is so refreshing to me. Not so centered on riffing guitar solos, his climax is in his chords. I remember a Rolling Stone interview several years ago where he speaks about the first time he picked up a guitar. He looked at it inquisitively and thought something like "what are you hiding." I can always hear that in his music. I won't bore you with the details of how much I love his live playing (another perk of living in L.A. is that if you watch his twitter, you can see him play about once a month)- thats a whole other story.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">Heres to music that moves-</span><br /><br /></span>alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-65976933701836027352009-10-15T03:53:00.000-07:002009-10-15T03:56:37.793-07:00i used to have a violent streak<span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;">When I was 11 I slapped my insult out of the mouth of a mean girl in the middle of the school soccer field. </span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;">Before my fingers met her icy skin, time froze, and I had the opportunity to retract my sure to sting smack.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;">But I didn't.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"><br />I flexed my muscle and delivered a blow with such a followthrough that it spun me around until I was faced again with my enemy. </span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;">Her nose to my chin.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;">I winced in anticipation for my inevitable doom.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;">I swallowed my mouthful of tears and willed my lip to stop quivering. </span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;">The air was suddenly thin and though I breathed deep, I couldn't seem to quench my body's thirst for oxygen.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"><br />I was in the moment before the moment.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;">The last fraction of time before it would be over. </span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;">Whatever the ending was going to be, it was about to happen.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"><br />My eyes broke away from her in defeat and I saw our surroundings.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;">Surrounded by others who shared my shock in what I had just done. </span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"><br />No one moved.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"><br />Internally I pleaded for her to decided my fate. </span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;">Anything but this.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;">Anything but silence.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"><br />I moved.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"><br />I lowered onto my heels, swiftly turned, and left her rigid body standing there mid gasp.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"><br />All this because she wouldn't stop calling me skinny.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;">Figures. </span>alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-64058441838261247202009-10-05T03:38:00.001-07:002009-10-05T03:56:45.857-07:00So I don't usually ask for stuff like this.....but....<br /><br />I was told about this from a friend and think it is a really cool opportunity! Sam-E is having a contest and the winner gets to be their "Good Mood Blogger" Its all about finding the things in life that make me happy. I think I have a good balance of doing this/needing more of this. Anywhoo...if you wouldn't mind taking a minute to cast a vote in my honor...I would be forever grateful! I mean forever. Just click the link.<br /><br />Thanks!!!!<br /><a href="http://www.sam-e.com/job/profile/95"><br />http://www.sam-e.com/job/profile/95</a>alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-90938134593301688302009-09-29T01:44:00.000-07:002009-09-29T01:55:33.164-07:00Square<span style=";font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;" >I live in a square.<br /><br />I drive a square.<br /><br />I go to school in a square.<br /><br />I watch tv on a square.<br /><br />I hang squares on my wall.<br /><br />I walk on a square sidewalk and open square doors.<br /><br />I cover myself with a square blanket.<br /><br />I buy blocks of squares and sew them together into bigger squares.<br /><br />I write with on a square.<br /><br />I take square pictures.<br /><br />I wear square shirts.<br /><br />I talk on a square.<br /><br />I dry off with a square.<br /><br />I read a square.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style=";font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;" ><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);">But I am a circle.<br /><br /><br />and if i'm a circle...i hope you're a circle<br /></span></span>alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-80042056344544001712009-09-26T23:48:00.000-07:002009-09-27T00:18:12.350-07:00Laurel's Party<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" >Hindsight is 20/20 and looking back, I should have known that today was going to turn out a little more shabby than chic. It started somewhere between when I officially went to sleep (3am) and when I officially woke up (12noon) there was some sort of massive emergency on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Woodley</span> Ave. I wake to the sound of screaming sirens and hear them <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">blurp</span> off as they near my house. Then 10 minutes later (just enough time for me to convince <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">penelope</span> to stop huffing around the house and come back to bed) another blaring siren screams around the corner and halts when it gets to me. This happened about 4 more times. After that, I was sure a murderer was on the loose and that he was coming to get me. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" >"Was that my door I hear opening, is someone breaking in" My inner psycho whispers to my inner rational thought.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" >"No stupid," my rational side condescendingly snides back. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" >Psycho was wrong. No one was breaking in. But it was enough to suddenly make me inexplicably alert.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" >And then I decided to watch my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">tivo</span>. 2 hours later I fell asleep. I woke to my vibrating phone...a text from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">LaDwan</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" >"You're coming tonight right?"</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" >curse! I thought Laurel's birthday party was tomorrow. That means I have 3 hours to:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" >1-Go to Trader <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Joes</span> to get ingredients for...</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" >2-homemade <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">pico</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">de</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">gallo</span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" >3-homemade guacamole</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" >4-shower</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" >5-decide whether i want to do my hair or makeup</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" >6-check yesterdays lotto numbers</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" >I got to number 2 when it happened. </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" >slice</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" >Despite my master chef skills I major sliced open my hand.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" >(WARNING...THIS GETS GROSS)</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" >Within seconds I was puking down the front of my shirt. It was like when you are little and you are running down the sidewalk arms ready to embrace your dad for a big aerial hug and then you trip and before you even hit the ground your eyes are filled with tears...but this time it was puke.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" >The rest of the night was filled with pain/humiliation/boredom and a pledge to eat take-out until my wound is healed. 10-14 days according to the docs.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" >This is a long winded way of saying...Happy Birthday Laurel...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">im</span> sorry i missed your party. i hope you had costumes, puppies and horror films galore. </span><br /></div>alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-5632929754441926992009-09-25T18:10:00.000-07:002009-09-25T18:42:13.401-07:00McRed- I.......Die<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcU2SDhl4KhuZG5Jw7Xnup5y6eddchJ6wylYVW5SAD9UjVlDBMIHRkCmWbP67wKuFGaOiHjGtla8ACD3BENCTcPmfs-5laVjqo20CX0p3KdhHpXKi6doGgsi7VWs_dQuL8AicPAJY8Ognh/s144/149761.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 422px; height: 237px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcU2SDhl4KhuZG5Jw7Xnup5y6eddchJ6wylYVW5SAD9UjVlDBMIHRkCmWbP67wKuFGaOiHjGtla8ACD3BENCTcPmfs-5laVjqo20CX0p3KdhHpXKi6doGgsi7VWs_dQuL8AicPAJY8Ognh/s144/149761.gif" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;">Blah Blah Blah McDreamy/Steamy. There is only one man on Grey's Anatomy that gets my heart galloping and it is this scottish hotness. Man o man dingo..he can choke me any day he wants to. </span></span>alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-4659584222579024082009-09-09T23:43:00.000-07:002009-09-09T23:55:23.012-07:00Pinup Penny<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: courier new;">So...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">What happens when you take a small town pup and move to the big beach city???</span><br /><br /></span><table style="font-family: courier new;"> <tbody><tr><td><span style="font-size:130%;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe2hJIIxnD8-mmDn8dJxDDrpY1jTiIcU6zyppSpwcMRb3XCfFlXBJvWFHwezEcCm6Qwj7OUxZvjCrJ23aC6FSml-ORaqginKzu14Qqlq-gr5wC8oiU6rJxaZi25VdcYol5vQVKlgbq1jfV/s288/IMG_3633.jpg" border="0" /></span> </td> <td><span style="font-size:130%;"><img style="width: 244px; height: 247px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxlL2eSiED3a5ztNWF1iOcHfU68vWEw_Q9qPvelVwQXwR63SOaeD_IGIET72fY4SfFWnLTU6ugNz_-EE8M4lySh_Qjisi_-9gIsENaNZDnX_x-6EuIMjFdoRJgFE8O7bvCNs_Wc3m2gXpa/s288/IMG_0575.JPG" border="0" /></span> </td></tr> </tbody></table> <span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">She turns into a sexy blond bombshell... sigh... my bebe is all grown up.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span>alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-35207173299906299692009-09-08T16:40:00.000-07:002009-09-08T16:49:24.632-07:00Fancy a coast...er??<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKihG2BhA2vvXRKbz22j46VKoWYNIu_dYeFs8Hy8B7I9lXyJmJ0Z8aY5LbdXLlhHN2KorxwaUwRyap3flYlykXRSzBtnLLYT4wm5mRfBPFSsZMwbtI9Ofmr9qHBdCepOuxJTX5bvFbntwR/s1600-h/IMG_0594.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKihG2BhA2vvXRKbz22j46VKoWYNIu_dYeFs8Hy8B7I9lXyJmJ0Z8aY5LbdXLlhHN2KorxwaUwRyap3flYlykXRSzBtnLLYT4wm5mRfBPFSsZMwbtI9Ofmr9qHBdCepOuxJTX5bvFbntwR/s400/IMG_0594.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379247216809195250" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Here are my latest inventions...tile coasters! (I mean I prolly didn't invent them but this is MY blog) I....DIE for these. I love.love.love them. Such handy little gifts and they are handmade (the best kind of gift according to yours truly!)<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9JAFfNq1uYX2mshO-TB_Ad3OCivzMqLbxkL6C-zPkMmRwnrtuHLxo87wgYeZyET7EEM7Y9NHNqA5HvB5inFGhWe6spQMb-kuCjbHTj2j0zvr8T1I53MoLA75Xq_2U412TJSfUtvloaSCw/s1600-h/IMG_0595.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 330px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9JAFfNq1uYX2mshO-TB_Ad3OCivzMqLbxkL6C-zPkMmRwnrtuHLxo87wgYeZyET7EEM7Y9NHNqA5HvB5inFGhWe6spQMb-kuCjbHTj2j0zvr8T1I53MoLA75Xq_2U412TJSfUtvloaSCw/s400/IMG_0595.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379247205345793090" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"> You could definitely get a l</span><span style="font-family:courier new;">ittle cheesy with the coaster saying. </span> <span style="font-family:courier new;"><br />'Coast through marriage' or 'in love from coast to coast' as a wedding gift</span> <span style="font-family:courier new;"><br />'Coast through the school year' as a teacher gift</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnzAiBSkxAznDGgLbwNUxrU2A9df5go_1UlFZYxEZo6ddGy89x1Nq1MA6g61D5yARVJa7aYtdEDM7E5k_y52K5Ymic_oeI56ge0zptaZ3vnJEZWSNxcXGauCEnA1aIi4ScLvDhgFCyB7xn/s1600-h/IMG_0597.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnzAiBSkxAznDGgLbwNUxrU2A9df5go_1UlFZYxEZo6ddGy89x1Nq1MA6g61D5yARVJa7aYtdEDM7E5k_y52K5Ymic_oeI56ge0zptaZ3vnJEZWSNxcXGauCEnA1aIi4ScLvDhgFCyB7xn/s400/IMG_0597.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379247195887138546" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">I also think they would make such cute</span><span style="font-family:courier new;"> wedding favors with the Bride and Groom names.<br /><br />Opportunities are Endless...</span> <span style="font-family:courier new;">Hope you likey : )</span>alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-55473143303040218782009-09-06T18:21:00.000-07:002009-09-06T18:47:20.804-07:00Have you heard???<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">My stockpile of Polaroid film in my fridge has dwindled to my final 10-pack. Lucky for me (and my instant film addiction) UI has stepped up with the Impossible Project and saved the day (or at least my day : ) You can read all about it </span><a style="font-family: courier new;" href="http://blog.urbanoutfitters.com/features/polaroid">here</a><span style="font-family:courier new;">. Needless to say, this makes me terribly happy.</span></span><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh_leD_sXsPUh3o2VbxiH8c1GOdH8-I1mNH4apKoAeDHSqaY4T25VuPTLP9dBMs7FV5qcbRGFRbex9j__lRQvi-DoKj_3bHfA_vKm0r5EslFEXPiG0zB1PHn4r0EAo7IULagos95pNlarJ/s1600-h/polaroid.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 329px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh_leD_sXsPUh3o2VbxiH8c1GOdH8-I1mNH4apKoAeDHSqaY4T25VuPTLP9dBMs7FV5qcbRGFRbex9j__lRQvi-DoKj_3bHfA_vKm0r5EslFEXPiG0zB1PHn4r0EAo7IULagos95pNlarJ/s400/polaroid.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378534942957769858" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >(Teacups at Disneyland...so enchanting)</span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Here's to instant gratification. Kiss Kiss!</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">PS...anyone else like instant film???</span></span><br /><br /></div><br /></div>alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1221698848198918833.post-91574571882328139612009-09-05T23:10:00.000-07:002009-09-05T23:24:00.381-07:00Miss Libby, you look dashing<span style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-size:130%;" >I have been dying to learn how to smock fabric for a while now and with my beautiful friend <a href="http://mccallandjared.blogspot.com/">McCall</a> having a perfect baby girl recently, I knew I had the perfect opportunity to learn. I often notice that there is not a lot of choices when it comes to baby fashion, so I tried to stay away from pink and cartoons. I think it turned out so cute! Once I meet little Libbers, I may need to do a fitting and some alterations because I'm no expert on newborn body proportions. (I kept looking at McCalls blog at pics and trying to guess how big she was..haha) Or if its too big she can just grow into it. Let me know if you want one because I need to keep honing my smocking skills, and I don't have a baby so....</span><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFJHzzjJixOZ_ACz31dzqQ1kT2x_2RHwCC3vtHk7vJIuorzE5zKSI4f-9z_X4Q-r1lC0M1mEG18OBt7X3UFyrgnOawP2xvHMvR4cdeSszoneLFAg3wYndPQp01TvtU8xnzW9TEnjNyf3gm/s1600-h/IMG_0583.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFJHzzjJixOZ_ACz31dzqQ1kT2x_2RHwCC3vtHk7vJIuorzE5zKSI4f-9z_X4Q-r1lC0M1mEG18OBt7X3UFyrgnOawP2xvHMvR4cdeSszoneLFAg3wYndPQp01TvtU8xnzW9TEnjNyf3gm/s400/IMG_0583.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378233452856779330" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9yvH0YQTRbDhtgGVptFdHvfEwo5yQLh5F-0ts2hvQRHsLDoHATYan8HkQfBFrTzsDHW6TjBDVHtcQhiC5tFQmgtP64Abx5CO0sGWCmQEP5aJvxVj5N-EMbQNlHfAmL7TN0dQrGS7-wjWV/s1600-h/IMG_0585.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9yvH0YQTRbDhtgGVptFdHvfEwo5yQLh5F-0ts2hvQRHsLDoHATYan8HkQfBFrTzsDHW6TjBDVHtcQhiC5tFQmgtP64Abx5CO0sGWCmQEP5aJvxVj5N-EMbQNlHfAmL7TN0dQrGS7-wjWV/s400/IMG_0585.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378233442895998770" border="0" /></a>alibroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10025296985078160714noreply@blogger.com4