tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501895241867235972024-02-18T18:14:09.828-08:00In a nutshellaimeebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856354205564316772noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50189524186723597.post-16344387208534112312012-01-07T02:00:00.000-08:002012-01-07T02:13:58.102-08:00In Defense of the Librarian.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Growing up, I understood some very important aspects of my life:
what team I was picked for kick-ball, what episode of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Blossom </i>we watched at the babysitter’s, and which book I read
before I went to bed. I feel very blessed to have lived such a privileged childhood
in which these were my biggest worries. I had two siblings (an antsy sister and
an athletic brother)—who followed me in school. While we are completely
different, we all understand the importance of the written word. That is, we
all love to explore the unseen. We love the development of the mind. We love
our imaginations. We love losing ourselves in another’s thoughts. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Erin, Patrick and I love to read. </i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">How amazing is that!? We grew up in a household where there
wasn’t a Nintendo or Playstation, or Xbox. We grew up where books were the
ordinary and DVDs were the extraordinary. We preferred our imagination to
someone else’s. And why did we grow up in a place where reading was an accepted
part of life? Because our mother, Mary Linda Burmester believed it so, that’s
why. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">See, I credit my mom with nearly everything I’ve learned in
life. Not because she was there every single step of the way—throughout <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>shitty algebra and the complicated chemistry
and <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the awful fifth-grade long division,
but because she stressed the importance of learning to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">read. </i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember sitting on
her lap, leaning on her chest, and listening to her heart beat as she read my <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Junie B. Jones</i> books. At the time I didn’t
understand the hilarity of Barbara Park, but I remember how my mom cracked up
reading her stories, and how because of my mother’s laughter, I too wanted to
hear more. Because of my mom, I’ve developed a love for reading that I otherwise
would not have. And I know she has affected other people in the same way. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">You may be wondering why I’m saying all this, but the truth
is I feel I need to get something off my chest. My mom is an amazing woman who
has blessed more than just me with a love for reading. Since I was in grade
school, Mom has been a media specialist in the Davenport School District. She
has helped innumerable children discover the power of reading. She has taught
inner-city students how they can rise above what they have been given just by
picking up a book and teaching themselves something they would not learn in the
classroom. She has been an ambassador for books. And unfortunately, her
position as guardian of the knowledge may be compromised this spring. Mary
Linda, along with all other media specialists (aka librarians) in the Davenport
School District may be losing their jobs this spring due to budget cuts. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I understand that tough economic times force tough decisions.
However, I do not believe that cutting the position of media specialist in
every school in the Davenport School District will have a good impact on the
students of the Quad Cities. Who will teach people how to find a research book
using the Dewey Decimal System? Who will teach students the importance of
citing their sources when they write a paper? And most importantly, who will
echo a parent’s effort to teach a child to learn to read at an early age if
there is no one to read <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Skippy John Jones
</i>to them in the school’s library every Thursday? </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I may be going off on a tangent, but I believe the position
of librarian and media specialist should not be cut. I believe if it weren’t for
the efforts of men and women like my mother, M.Linda Burmester, we would be in
a much worse situation than we are today. So please, if you read this, pass
this on to someone who you think could benefit from what I have to say. We
cannot lose our librarians. They are ambassadors for the leather bound cover,
the smell of ink, and importance of the written word.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>aimeebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856354205564316772noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50189524186723597.post-71121769406991743812011-11-18T14:53:00.000-08:002011-11-20T10:06:29.512-08:00DIY Christmas Tree Extravaganza!Hi Everyone!<br />
<br />
I'm writing to you from my hotel room in Colorado Springs, Colo. I'm about to head to the Garden of the Gods with our women's basketball team, but before I do, I want to share a little competition I'm taking part in. <br />
<br />
So my good friend Lisa is amazing. She's the most handy person (man or woman) I know. She has completely re-done her kitchen mostly by her self, has refinished hard wood floors, can sew, paint, decorate--you name it, Lisa can, or will figure out how to do it. Anyway, she and I e-mail pretty much everyday about what's going on in our lives and our latest projects. <br />
<br />
Earlier this week, Lisa proposed we do a DIY Christmas Tree Decoration competition, and I totally jumped on board! Every decoration that goes on the Christmas tree has to be hand-made, homemade, or completely altered before it can go on the tree. <br />
<br />
I'd like to invite you all to join in on our competition! It's a great way to save money during the holidays and get those creative juices flowing! <br />
<br />
Lisa has created a facebook group for the competition with all the rules that you can access <a href="http://www.facebook.com/#!/events/244456542274340/">here</a>! I hope y'all are feeling as crafty as I am! I'll keep you posted on all the things I create for my tree :)aimeebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856354205564316772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50189524186723597.post-9276089195010822782011-11-05T08:17:00.000-07:002011-11-05T08:17:33.940-07:00Birthday Wisdom24 years ago today, I graced this world with my presence. Let's just say, people were impressed. Well, at least Mary Linda and Karl and the grandparents were. <br />
<br />
Since then, a lot has changed (obviously, did I even need to say that?). I've learned a lot in my nearly two and a half decades of life. Let me share. <br />
<br />
1. Family is important. <br />
I've seen families fight, fued, and break apart. It's not cool. It's hard to watch, because most times, it's over trivial things.My hope is that the four people I'm closest with (five if you count our family dog), will never let stupid little things get in the way of the love and support we have for one another. <br />
<br />
2. Don't sit on the toilet before checking for toilet paper. <br />
Unless you don't mind either a) shouting loudly for someone else to bring you some, b) running around with your pants down while you find toilet paper, or 7) drip drying.<br />
<br />
3. Aging is required, growing up is not.<br />
My favorite example of this is my Great Aunt Fay. I think she's almost 80 now, and they just hired her at Trader Joes down in the Phoenix area. Why? Because she's full of life! I stayed with her and her husband my sophomore year of college over spring break and I learned so much from her just from her attitude: she ate well, she exercised daily, she loved her family, and she wasn't afraid to talk to total strangers and brighten their days. I loved that! I hope that when I get to 80 I've got the same crazy personality I have today.<br />
<br />
4. When in need of a major pick-me-up, turn to an elderly man (or woman if you're a boy).<br />
I am seriously not kidding on this one. Old guys are so cute in their old sweaters and khaki pants above their belly buttons and their white socks, that it's hard not to love them. Then they open their mouths and have some ridiculous joke that you can't help but laugh. I feel God really knows when I'm struggling when an old man crosses my path. and makes me smile. <br />
<br />
5. Don't over correct, don't swerve to miss a deer, and ALWAYS wear your seatbelt. <br />
<br />
6. Liquor before beer, in the clear. Beer before liquor, never been sicker. <br />
Myth. Trust me. <br />
<br />
7. Life gets hard. <br />
This is something I realllllllyyyy learned this year when I started my first big girl job nine hours away from my family. My poor mother and father get a phone call nearly every week (sometimes more than once a week) from me where I'm either crying or cussing or frustrated or just plain mad. Thanks for always listening Ma and Pa. And thanks for all the advice, support and cheerings. They've really helped me get through some really rough days. You've taught me no matter where I go, there will always be that someone who will knock me down, and make me feel like my work is not good enough, or not up to par. I've learned things like that need to go in one ear and out the other. Otherwise, I'll drive myself to drinking a full bottle of wine every night. <br />
<br />
Ok those are the lessons for now. Probably won't change much next year because these are things I've constantly had to remind myself over the years, but each time feels like I've learned them again. Everyone go out, hug your family, have a drink, and cheers to everything you've learned in your lives!<br />
<br />
Shout outs:<br />
Patty Cakes!: Yeah Pat! Started your first game of your college career Wednesday night! So proud of you, looked awesome on tv (ok on my computer). Go Bulldogs!<br />
Dori: Congrats on an awesome four years of volleyball. Now get after it, and get your "post-volleyball" legs back!<br />
Jada: Happy 21st, Birthday Twin! Don't die at Hobo days!<br />
Michael: Thank you for the awesome cowboy boots. I love them. I know you've got something else up your sleeve and I can't wait to see what it is. Thanks for being the best. I love you.aimeebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856354205564316772noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50189524186723597.post-42867981977477628942011-10-19T20:42:00.000-07:002011-10-19T20:42:21.471-07:00Pheasants and TomatersHi Y'all.<br />
<br />
So I wrote a post on Saturday on my computer. Then I realized I didn't put it up and now it's all sorts of untimely. <br />
<br />
See a few bigs things have happened in my life since last Saturday. Let me tell you in list form. <br />
<br />
1) Pheasant Hunting. Yessir, the season opened up, and I, Aimee B., great hunter extraordinaire, shot a big fat whopping ZERO birds. That's right, great day to shoot holes in the sky for me. However, the group I was with did an awesome job, and they let me keep a bunch of the amazing feathers for awesome projects I will be doing for my apartment and Grandma's house. And don't worry, I'm going out again this weekend. I'll get some cock sometime. <br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><em>Ok, side note about cock hunting, I wasn't prepared for the cleaning part. </em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>It wasn't really that bad though. Maybe next time I'll actually touch one. </em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Also, fried pheasant tastes super good. Sandra Hagny has an awesome breading recipe. </em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>I'm sure if you asked for it, she'd give it to you...for fifty bucks. You can give it to me and I'll make sure to pass it on :)</em> </div><br />
2) 50 pounds of tomatoes. Yes, 50 pounds. That's how many tomatoes I got from my good friend from work, Virginia. I'm sure most of you know the <a href="http://aimeeb52.blogspot.com/2011/08/green-thumbin.html">sad story about my garden.</a> Ok, so I had no tomatoes, but I've wanted to try my hand at canning stuff for awhile. So when Virg said she had an extra crate, I jumped at the opportunity to get going! Turns out, 50 pounds of tomatoes is a lot. Wayyyy a lot. Last night, I did 11 jars of tomato/spaghetti sauce. And it was easy. <br />
<br />
This is how I did it: I grabbed a bunch of the tomaters, washed them, quarterd them and threw them in a blender (skins, seeds, everything). After I blended the crap out of them, I put them in a pot and boiled them for about 45 minutes (maybe an hour, I wasn't keeping track). You have to boil out the water. I added a bunch of minced garlic and basil and oregano. And instead of doing the water bath canning, I heated my jars in the oven. Sandy told me she had done it before and it worked like a charm. If Sandy does it, so am I. So in the oven for 10 minutes at 250 degrees, take 'em out, fill the jars, put the lids on them and listen to them pop on the counter :). <br />
<br />
Tonight, I did salsa; a wee bit more complicated than my awesome sketti sauce, but the result tastes amazing! I did the whole boil water, put the tomatoes in for three minutes take them out and put them in ice water then pull the skin off. Well let me give you a little trick I taught myself tonight: make two "X's" on each side of the tomato. Then the skin will magically start pulling off. Ok another short cut, my roommate Megan got one of those awesome pounder chopper things where you slam the top down, take out your frustration of the day, and wham! chopped tomatoes! So I used that and also chopped up a jalapeno, red onion and a wee bit of habanero. Dumped it in a pot, and added this amazing concoction from a woman named Mrs. Wages. I imagine Mrs. Wages is pretty old now, but based on the seasoning she made, she was a pretty good cook. And because of that I'm sure she had her fair share of tail in the day. Hats off to you, Mrs. Wages. So anyway, I added her seasoning, boiled my tomato mixture for half an hour, cooked my jars in the oven, put the salsa in the jars, and WHAM, BAM, THANK YOU MA'AM, I've got a tasty town salsa. <br />
So two nights of canning down and I think I still have thirty pounds of tomatoes. Yeesh. <br />
<br />
3) I had a dog for two days. Her name is Tana, and she's a four-year old german short hair. Just gorgeous. The minute I met her, she climbed up in my lap and fell asleep. The past two nights she slept in my bed with me. When I woke up yesterday morning, she had my paw on my leg (melt my heart a little bit why don't ya!?) When I came home from work today, she was gone. She left me. I thought we had bonded and she would stay with me forever, but no, she left. Ok, really she couldn't do anything about it. Her owner, my roommate's friend from Montana, was in town to hunt for a few days and he left this morning. But I seriously bonded with that dog. And now, I want one even more. My birthday is in just a few short weeks. A certain someone could find a puppy and have it pottied trained in that time. Jus' saying.<br />
<br />
One more thing before I go. I'm thinking about taking this blogging stuff to the next level. Like write more often, about more interesting stuff. More food stuffs, more crafty stuffs, more stories of my lack of intelligence stuffs. I hope none of you mind. <br />
<br />
<br />
Shoutouts:<br />
Scoby: Monday night bowling is now a must. Please enjoy your weekend "off."<br />
Sandy: I cannot wait for our lunch date tomorrow. I hope we can find you some sweet boots!<br />
Mary Wolfgram: Thinking about you woman, hope that ol' baby pouch of yours is doing ok! We need baby Ranchers!<br />
Mom: Don't worry, I will not forget to give Sandy the homemade jelly your made her. <br />
Awesome student assistant football coach that also works at Wal-Mart: Thank you so much for stealing those grapes, washing them, and searching the whole store to find me and give them to me. How did you know I was dying a slow death of starvation? You're my new favorite coach.aimeebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856354205564316772noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50189524186723597.post-61420497851446972082011-10-05T14:40:00.000-07:002011-10-05T14:40:36.319-07:00Mountain Lions are Taking Over the World!<em>Editor's Note: Soooo this post is a week old, it's been sitting on my desktop in Microsoft Word format, just waiting to be read by y'all. Apologies for the delay. Enjoy!</em><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So I’m currently riding on the Presentation College People Mover with the volleyball team down to Madison, S.D; the girls are taking on Dakota State tonight and <s>I wanted to get out of the office</s> need more photos of the team in action, so I said I’d travel along. I’ve got some very important information to share with my audience that has been on my mind for the last few weeks. I don’t know if anyone has heard on the news at all, but mountain lions are everywhere. Seriously. They’ve been spotted around Aberdeen, near my hometown of DeWitt, Iowa, east of Gettysburg, and even a very reliable source has photos of these kitties on their trailcams! </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">While majestic beautiful creatures, the mountain lion (puma concolor) is still scary as crap. If one was hungry enough, it could probably eat a human alive, or at least your favorite cat, dog, or angus beef steer. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And what’s even scarier is that the Black Hills mountain lion population is growing and migrating farther and farther east. </span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsVm3KQF-UCTNgIAxRNlgxvTiwnwPEen6y9XMSYWkw5v0Mnk6DlpLUc0q1XpqdM8kibl-otdPjAXED1kOKljKc2nt5A2zlJTeUnjMVwEcpqbL0DjekkLyETy0paRznaMMGH_vxdcxUvYg/s1600/mountain-lion_637_600x450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsVm3KQF-UCTNgIAxRNlgxvTiwnwPEen6y9XMSYWkw5v0Mnk6DlpLUc0q1XpqdM8kibl-otdPjAXED1kOKljKc2nt5A2zlJTeUnjMVwEcpqbL0DjekkLyETy0paRznaMMGH_vxdcxUvYg/s320/mountain-lion_637_600x450.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Oh hey pretty kitty.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This morning my boss and I were discussing these big cats (real important Presentation College work, I know). She gave me a little more MML (Mighty Mountain Lion) info. See, MML’s were introduced into the Black Hills region by homo sapien sapiens (humans for those who don’t remember shit from high school biology).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well the thing about humans and animals alike is they like to reproduce (some humans shouldn’t. For examples of those who shouldn’t, visit Wal-Mart later today). And the mountain lion population in the Black Hills has steadily been increasing. What’s happening now is that they are struggling to find food. Since they can’t just run into their neighborhood Hy-Vee for some pork loin or prime rib, they’ve begun to search a little harder for food. For instance, digging through garbage cans in back yards, eating farmers’ cattle, and, like I said earlier, migrating east. A very credible source (my wonderful boyfriend after a few BV Diets) told me they once tracked a MML from the Black Hills to western Colorado. I believe him. </span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCFHOShD-XqZFZPH4GafabfrJn2shwjN9vSbQoqW1_y_LPf5qN8lYENr1Vp9Ag72yWOKw7Dk0PzPng98-hTD_quGhCyBtQ8_LydSqjyM7F0RFpGNAo17vVwdefMWyUyWX31eH2LOLJyDQ/s1600/mountain-lion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCFHOShD-XqZFZPH4GafabfrJn2shwjN9vSbQoqW1_y_LPf5qN8lYENr1Vp9Ag72yWOKw7Dk0PzPng98-hTD_quGhCyBtQ8_LydSqjyM7F0RFpGNAo17vVwdefMWyUyWX31eH2LOLJyDQ/s320/mountain-lion.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Look at me, I lean like a cholo.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">These animals are everywhere. And we should know a little more about them. So let me give you some facts about the MML:</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Mountain Lions are the largest cat in North America, and in South Dakota have no other predators—except for the MMH (mighty majestic hunter) such as myself. </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">MML’s are usually a tawny or light cinnamon color with black tipped ears and tails. Adult male mountain lions can be huge as crap at nearly eight feet and up to 150 pounds (to compare, bobcats get to be around two feet and 30 pounds, like an obese house cat only way more agile). </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Similar to the Swamp People of Louisiana, they eat a lot of animals, such as deer, mice, squirrels, porcupines, raccoons, rabbits, and beavers (no honey badgers though). </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s estimated that there are over 30,000 MMLs in the western United States. That’s just an estimate. I bet there’s a bunch more. </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">MMLs keep to themselves unless they’re looking to get some booty. Then they look for an easy woman to take home and knock up. Also MMLs have been known to travel anywhere from 10 miles to 370 miles (hmmm Drunk Michael was right). </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Ok, here’s the kicker: Mountain lions are active hunters who take the kill shot from behind. They’re smart too, going for the base of the skull, bury their kill them come back and eat it later when they’re hungry. I’m sure it’s some sort of pickling process or something. </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.25in;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRJ9K8P97Nq5ncRYZySIKIaRfNbLS16xWBzwKvV1nmTQB4Koqp0a7vutTpzT7lhAFRPuEv-rapi8u6_jqGKJl7F_c-VSdEMq_ej7CFxm2ziVcpGwF1_11nfOwEZu4JoXELyRKaL9LTLyE/s1600/mtlion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRJ9K8P97Nq5ncRYZySIKIaRfNbLS16xWBzwKvV1nmTQB4Koqp0a7vutTpzT7lhAFRPuEv-rapi8u6_jqGKJl7F_c-VSdEMq_ej7CFxm2ziVcpGwF1_11nfOwEZu4JoXELyRKaL9LTLyE/s320/mtlion.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">I have better cheekbones than Zoolander</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.25in;"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So basically, these suckers are intense, and can kill you if you’re not ready. My only suggestion—and I honestly think it’s the best—start wearing a pistol belt. Mick Mick the Bullrider has one that I wear around the house sometimes, but I think I’m going to have to convince him to let me wear it all the time. Only safe option I see. And everyone, may I suggest you go to your nearest gun shop and purchase a gun and pistol belt for yourself. </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">While Boss Lady and I were talking this morning we also discovered on the South Dakota Game, Fish, and Parks website, that there is a MML hunting season. That got me real excited. Ever since the day GFP e-mailed me with the sad news that they won’t give me a buck tag this year and I started crying at my desk, I’ve been looking at some sort or redemption. Yeah, yeah I applied for a doe tag, and I know that’s probably the best thing for me this year because let’s face it, I’ve never had deer fever so I’ll probably still crap my pants when I go to shoot my first doe. BUT! Now that I’ve discovered this mountain lion season, I’ve gotten way pumped. I even told Michael I think it would make a great romantic date for us. Can’t you see it now? Both of us decked out in our camo from head to toe (my sweet goret-tex hunting overalls came in last week, and excuse my friench, but they’re tits.), binoculars hanging around our necks and rifles across our backs as trek across Potter County in the middle of winter in search of the Majestic Mountain Lion to mount on Grandma’s living room wall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If that doesn’t say two people crazy in love I don’t know what does. </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So anyway, you can see I’m really interested in these MMLs. I want everyone to stay safe and buy a pistol and pistol belt, but in the meantime, Michael and I (he doesn’t know it yet, unless he’s read this post) will be applying for MML tags and getting a new mount. </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In non-related news the Presentation Football team has started its inaugural season. Let’s hope they get a win this weekend. (<em>Editor's update: they did. Yipee.)</em></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Shoutouts</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Bus driver:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I appreciate you safely transporting us to Madison, but can you please try and avoid the potholes?</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Erin Anderson: Whoa, that’s weird, I’ve never typed your new name. Congratulations on tying the knot. You looked absolutely stunning Saturday. And your reception was a blast and a half. I have bruises on my legs from doing the worm on the dance floor. </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Patrick: I don’t know what happened, but you turned into a cool brother. I know Mom and Dad were so happy you surprised them and came home. High fives for you. </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Erin Jo: I hope coaching the freshman North Scott volleyball team is going well. I’m sure you’re teaching those youngsters plenty of good volleyball moves. PS. So glad kindergartners are learning to let music take over their souls, just like Happiness. </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Abby O: Boeyinker. Haha.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>aimeebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856354205564316772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50189524186723597.post-49299468429178941102011-08-16T12:53:00.000-07:002011-08-16T12:53:40.023-07:00Green Thumbin'I need to update you all on something in my life that is half tragic and half a blessing. I'll call it, The Death of My Garden.<br />
<br />
Some of you may know I worked for an elderly couple, George and Jane Korver, while I lived in Marshall. I mowed six acres of lawn, scooped algae off the pond with rake, became pretty swift with a weed whacker and tended the biggest most beautiful garden in the world. All those tasks were grand, however the best thing about the job was hands down that garden. George grew everything: corn, snow peas, yellow potatoes, red potatoes, tomatoes, carrots, broccoli, cucumbers, lettuce, red onions, yellow onions, summer squash, pumpkins, watermelon, cantelope, garlic, asparagus...you name it he grew it. It was awesome. I always had fresh vegetables, canned pickles, homemade sauces, salsas...the list goes on and on. <br />
<br />
Anyway, the Korver's lit a fuse in me and ignited my love for gardening. So when Michael T. started living at Grandma's with all that potential growing space I got realllll pumped. I asked Grandma Agnes if I could have a garden and she got real excited too I think. <br />
<br />
So, I began planning, and planting. I bought these little seed tray greenhouse thingers that you put a seed in then put the plastic cover on and then they grow before you put them in the ground. They are honestly necessary if you try and plant a garden up in these parts. We had snow til April this year so you can imagine the soil temp. Poor little seedlings can't wear gloves or coats so they freeze to death. At first I kept the seed trays at home and would come home at lunch and stare at them hoping they'd gotten bigger. The lighting in my apartment blows a little bit, so I made an executive decision and brought them to my office where they grew and grew and grew. I had tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, green beans and morning glories all greenifying my office. <br />
<br />
<br />
One day Michael and Mick and Sandy went to town doing some yardwork and Michael plowed up a small space for me to have a garden. It looked great! My garden was taking shape, hot dog! The next day I transplanted my office buddy seedlings along with potatoes and onions, into my garden. At first nothing grew but weeds, but when I came back a few weeks later, BAM! We were in growing business!! I had a few challenges dealing with Michael's pets (those darn deer) so we (Mick and I) put up a redneck fence that only covered 5/8s of the garden. We used some corral gates on the other 3/8, that's why it was redneck. I also told Mick he could pee on the garden whenever he liked (Michael's pets don't like human peepee). <br />
<br />
<br />
So yeah, the garden was awesome. Completely full of weeds, but still awesome. That was...until one fateful day, something very tragic happened. A man came to beautify Grandma's yard by chopping down all the trees around the quanset and the garage. It was close quarters and my garden is right behind the garage, and would really benefit from less keeping the warm sun out. So Mr. Man is back there doing "get-trees-out-of the ground" things when suddenly, he gets his Bobcat stuck in mud big time. He was surrounded on all sides by quanset, garage, and more trees. He had no where to turn. Exceppptttt......<br />
<br />
(you guessed it, right through the garden). <br />
<br />
Can you please take a moment of silence for my cucumbers, green beans, tomatoes, red and yellow potatoes, peppers and onions. <br />
<br />
<br />
Luckily, I had planted some seeds in buckets on the deck. When I planted the seeds I thought they were tomatoes and peppers. Only peppers. At least I have something growing. Anyone wanna make pepper-flavored vodka with me?<br />
<br />
And all is not lost. Next year, I'll have much more sunlight for my little plantings, and this time next year I'll have an abundance of veggies. I'll probably share with people who are really nice to me and give me nice things like a new rifle or cowboy boots or hunting gear (that's you, Michael). I also take cash, check or visa. <br />
<br />
Shoutouts:<br />
EJo: Good luck at school, I'm glad you got to go back to school shopping. <br />
Megan B.: Hurry up and move here already. I'm DVRing Kim Kardashian's wedding for you tonight so we can watch it sunday. <br />
Tibs: I've really gotten a crap ton of compliments on my haircut. I think you're hired for life. <br />
Anyone who wants to become a Saints Booster Club member: Call me. 605-229-8378. aimeebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856354205564316772noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50189524186723597.post-18597373519085769592011-08-10T19:12:00.000-07:002011-08-10T19:12:26.374-07:00225 Million Big Ones225 Million. Dollars. Big Ones. Buckaroos. <br />
<br />
That's the lottery tonight. Holy Cow. Do you know what I could do with 225 million dollars!? Well funny that you asked because I think about winning the lottery EVERY STINKIN DAY! <br />
<br />
So, let me tell you what I would spend my winnings on :)<br />
<br />
1. Student Loans. Did any of you think I would pay for anything else first? I complain about them more than I complain about the price of gas, the idiots I work with, and the price of tea in China. So right away, I'll knock out that 40k. Take that Federal Government! I'll probably pay for my sister's loans too. Maybe my brother's also, but he really has to suck up to me. Lately Patty Cakes has been a disgusting puke to me (and I even gave him my sweet blue chair for his dorm, rude!) <br />
<br />
2. My parent's house and any debt they have. My parents are amazing. All throughout my childhood both my mom and dad worked at least two jobs to take care of Erin, Pat and myself. Seriously, they gave us anything. We all participated in club sports, spent entire weekends in hotels and gyms, and they did it all knowing they would do even more for us if we asked. I seriously feel so blessed to have Karl with a K and Mary Linda for parents. And now, I think they're even cooler. I mean my mom loves drinking bloody mary's with me now and my dad loves gardening. They're awesome! And they don't need to worry about money anymore. They've worried long enough. Side note: my dad wants to go back to school to be a physical therapy assistant. If he does, I'd pay for that too. But only if he still wanted to. I mean naturally I'm going to give my parents an allowance so they won't ever have to work again unless they choose too. They could just retire and do retirement things. Like golf and read Martha Stewart magazine (that's a joke, Mary Linda hates Martha).<br />
<br />
3. Pay for a better library at SMSU, and a new curtain in the gym. Ok spending 4.5 years at a school I realized some improvements could be made. Such as a waaaaayyyyy bigger library (reading books makes you smarter people). I'd also put a curtain in the RA facility. See it's hard to focus at basketball practice when softball is screwing around on the south end of the gym, baseball is fondling one another at the other end and wrestling is giving piggy back rides to one another around the track (i mean that in itself is distracting!). I'd probably also give a huge chunk of change to Kelly Loft, the best Sports Information Director in the world who taught me everything I know, and an even bigger chunk to all the women's athletic teams. Let's face it girls, we still get the shaft (that's what she said). <br />
<br />
4. Play Monopoly. Buy up a bunch a land baby!!! Then put houses and hotels on it and charge people a $100 rent like on Park Place. That's a joke there, I'd charge $200. Ok seriously thought, I'd buy land everywhere I could. Specifically Sodak, Montana, Iowa and Scotland. Yes, Scotland. I want to have my own home overseas where I can just hop on a jumbo jet and get away from everything. The other three are just so farmers can rent the land from me. Ok secretly I want my old roommate to farm the land for me, and then I'd be the boss and he'd have to listen to me. Muahhahaha. :) <br />
<br />
5. Donate to lots of charities. These days, everyone needs money. And I truthfully don't think I should be the only one to benefit from my hypothetical winnings. So I'll give a bunch to Susan G. Komen in honor of one of the most amazing women I've ever had the pleasure of knowing, Margie Thiel McDermott, some to Livestrong, some to SmileTrain, and probably some to whomever asks. Remember this people, YOU ONLY GET WHAT YOU GIVE. Sharing means caring. <br />
<br />
Ok that's about all I have to say about winning the lottery. Fingers crossed it happens. <br />
<br />
Oh p.s. it's my old roommates birthday on Friday. Happy Birthday ya big hairy sexy beast. May all your dreams come true or something. <br />
<br />
Shoutouts:<br />
<br />
Grandma Milly: I'm sorry you've had eye problems lately. I hope you feel better soon!<br />
<br />
Megan Betz: Hurry up and move here already. <br />
<br />
Woman Security Guard at PC: I love how tough and manly you look, but I love it even more when I catch you smoking a cig in your convertible and reading Cosmo. aimeebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856354205564316772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50189524186723597.post-8624142012183078302011-07-26T19:44:00.000-07:002011-07-26T19:44:21.883-07:00strawberries, peppers, and thunderstormsHi! <br />
<br />
Ok, I'm busting at the seems to tell you what I just made. Wanna know!? Strawberry infused vodka and pepper infused vodka. Ohymylanta, my weekend just got really exciting because of this stuff! Lemme tell you about it.<br />
<br />
So my roommate, Abby O, told me about this vodka-infusion-make-your-eyes-cross-and-your-brain-explode awesomeness. We were going to make it together but she went to the Black Hills. And I got antsy. I went online and googled this magical potion she spoke of, and I found it <a href="http://www.make-martinis-at-home.com/vodkainfusionrecipes.html">here</a>. There's a poo-mound full of different infusions you can try, but strawberries and peppers were on sale at Wal Mart so I got those (also, good news, Wally now sells hard liquor!). I came home real fast like and chopped away. First I made the strawberry vodka. I used entire pint of berries--cut the tops off and quarter the rest of the fruit. I put the fruit in a mason jar (I like mason jars way more than the average person should, but I love the homemade do-it yourself, redneck nostalgia) and dumped Phillips vodka (wayyy classy by the way) over the fruit. Put a lid on it and put it in the fridge for 3-7 days shaking it no more than twice a day. I did the same with the peppers except I cored them taking out the seeds because they contain the most heat. PLEASE NOTE: If you don't have gloves, like I didn't, wash your hands IMMEDIATELY. Like don't rub your eyes after touching hot seeds because it hurts like a bia. <br />
<br />
Here's what my creation looks like. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIB8btxOjdYJYLFRNJ0Ysy8XcH9S6VFttiwrNErHmUdZSSjF5d6SVtE8PHtb_wqa4DLmZUOjVX4t9WwVkaCg-xo3BAZ-99yb_6iRpg9h9TirHq7vV6DU0jR6RQagp04kbsUXBkMSHfXS8/s1600/DSC04658.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIB8btxOjdYJYLFRNJ0Ysy8XcH9S6VFttiwrNErHmUdZSSjF5d6SVtE8PHtb_wqa4DLmZUOjVX4t9WwVkaCg-xo3BAZ-99yb_6iRpg9h9TirHq7vV6DU0jR6RQagp04kbsUXBkMSHfXS8/s320/DSC04658.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And here's my fridge. She's a beaut.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj78dsTFWVA5D5LdygHt9xPbJ0d0-Zm7mH5Dhf-GXD_PgGTS9y20Yg7HIJVd5DBIbU1stOn4AdiO6X0zunZoboNM3FISQ_xDQQO8AO5bpa7tT2ZARtQYVVQdjigO9BnVLoCvOVr6QLt1Pg/s1600/DSC04660.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj78dsTFWVA5D5LdygHt9xPbJ0d0-Zm7mH5Dhf-GXD_PgGTS9y20Yg7HIJVd5DBIbU1stOn4AdiO6X0zunZoboNM3FISQ_xDQQO8AO5bpa7tT2ZARtQYVVQdjigO9BnVLoCvOVr6QLt1Pg/s320/DSC04660.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
So anyway, I can't wait for Friday. I might have to have a strawberry drink before work....JOKES!...but seriously, I can't wait. <br />
<br />
Also, there is a thunderstorm roaring outside right now. 70 mile an hour winds, yeah boy! I just saw the Wicked Witch of the West ride by on her bicycle. There's no place like home. There's no place like home. <br />
<br />
Wanna see the sky? Ok I'll show you. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirc-LMrItaf0PyKf1QVapaJhLfIViPWAKvhyphenhyphenL2M3BcRiK65AaNRhnlWIKNSIDPNQC60qLMGLxda02K8Mnq8d6UEzJmDiDBdC55ldosaHZ61jm17TCMW8rXyjlWDALx5VshEoqdFHeF5iE/s1600/DSC04654.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirc-LMrItaf0PyKf1QVapaJhLfIViPWAKvhyphenhyphenL2M3BcRiK65AaNRhnlWIKNSIDPNQC60qLMGLxda02K8Mnq8d6UEzJmDiDBdC55ldosaHZ61jm17TCMW8rXyjlWDALx5VshEoqdFHeF5iE/s320/DSC04654.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
And one more picture for good measure now that I know how to add pictures to this thing.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Hello river at sunrise. You're my favorite. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc222DedQk85TEo4K76MFjMmFqhgt9VRl325foWBSbW5fi2zzAh_PHMnEWfbaaV8DuSXHwmBLjs8veP5_VauyXFZ0fd8_jSQxyPO61Tj1uX4R0T86P6oWqr34q72jJUJpu8_I0casaYz4/s1600/DSC04647.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc222DedQk85TEo4K76MFjMmFqhgt9VRl325foWBSbW5fi2zzAh_PHMnEWfbaaV8DuSXHwmBLjs8veP5_VauyXFZ0fd8_jSQxyPO61Tj1uX4R0T86P6oWqr34q72jJUJpu8_I0casaYz4/s320/DSC04647.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Ok last one I promise. I love my captain. Even when he sunburns his eyes and has to look like a 40-year old. :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtQd787oTeN1AplclvLFopJrKi1znyMXEnJIKPuVShWYy8djIrTyGfnjw8FVhLjJgsLxEjNdR_WU1OnSKqT9d86iDpqXcHtezYj-HKi0EwDggG2Mb-Q1Acj_xIXsNd8m9_rUuF5TOc6qs/s1600/DSC04648.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtQd787oTeN1AplclvLFopJrKi1znyMXEnJIKPuVShWYy8djIrTyGfnjw8FVhLjJgsLxEjNdR_WU1OnSKqT9d86iDpqXcHtezYj-HKi0EwDggG2Mb-Q1Acj_xIXsNd8m9_rUuF5TOc6qs/s320/DSC04648.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Three days til the weekend. But who's counting. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>aimeebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856354205564316772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50189524186723597.post-67476109693239019322011-07-22T12:12:00.000-07:002011-07-22T12:12:38.782-07:00i got the bluesThat's right. I'm a bummed out ginger right now. Why? A few reasons that lead to the main reason: I can't go to Gettysburg this weekend. I'll start from the beginning of my woes.<br />
<br />
1. Student loans. I just learned of my entire student loan total: 40, 319 big bucks. I have to start paying in October. Trick or treat? I take trick, big time.<br />
<br />
2. Car is a piece. I love my taurasaurus. Except she's getting old. And the air conditioning goes out every five minutes. I need a new beast but, please refer to #1 as to why I won't be getting one anytime soon. <br />
<br />
3. Gas. Fuel. Liquid Gold. Whatever, it's expensive. Sometimes I wish I really could pay for it with my arm and my leg because I feel as that would be cheaper than $3.69 a gallon. Costs me fifty big ones to fill my tank. Once again, please refer to #1 as the reasoning behind my lack of enthusiasm for filling my car. <br />
<br />
So you can see the root of all my problems is stupid student loans that I have to pay off asap so I can spend my hard earned dough on something other than an education. If anyone knows of scholarships available to old people to help pay off student loans (other than lottery tickets, I already buy those), please pass on the knowledge. Many thanks in advance. <br />
<br />
Shout outs:<br />
<br />
JK Rowling: Good books. I take that back. GREAT books. I think I'm going to follow your footsteps and start writing a book on a napkin. Seemed to work out for you so I might as well try it. <br />
<br />
Tibs: Thanks for hiring me (in advance) as a wax specialist for your shop. Guys out there I already have a special going on: $10 back waxing. Steal!<br />
<br />
Mary Kay Ash: Soooo according to all the "educational materials" I've recieved from your company, I should be making more money than I am right now. What's the deal? People, y'all need to buy more make up to get hot.aimeebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856354205564316772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50189524186723597.post-22345024270630973262011-06-30T13:03:00.000-07:002011-06-30T13:03:59.827-07:0060 years, 4th of July, one hectic summerI'm taking a small break from work today because I have stuff to share. <br />
<br />
Last weekend was my grandparents' 60th wedding anniversary. It was also the first time Michael met my family. Also the first time Michael and I embarked on a road trip together. So you could say this trip was a pretty big deal. You could also say I was a bundle of nerves. I shouldn't have been. The weekend was awesome. I'll tell you why.<br />
<br />
1) I love my grandparents. I don't think I can get over how cool these two 85-year olds are. Grandpa Bob is hilarious. And Grandma Milly can't hear so she just looks at all of us with her hand cupped over her ear. She also makes chocolate brownies and freezes them. So good.<br />
<br />
2) All of my cousins were back. Now there's only nine of us, but when we get together we have a lot of fun. This year nearly everyone was of drinking age. And those who weren't generally took part in the festivities as well. Friday night we all wanted to go out, and we were just going to "see" if the youngins' could get in. Michael downloaded this "sweet bar finder app" (like he needs an app, he can find booze anywhere) and we discovered a place called Playerz. Classy establishment if you ask me. Anyway, the bouncer at the door checks everyone's ID except for the three kids who stood outside with dumb looks on their faces. Well big scary bouncer sees them-- and it was like Moses parting the Red Sea--sees them (picture this slow motion style now) turns his head and walks away from the door. Underage kids--faces light up, sprint through the door and to the bar. It was a miracle for sure. Thank you Sweet Baby Jesus.<br />
<br />
3) On the topic of my awesome cousins, I should mention how awesome we all look together. We could have been casted as the Weasley family from Harry Potter (minus State Champion, who ran through the screen door, Lauren who has too much lebanese in her). Even Michael fits the mold with his bright red beard. So naturally when we walked into Playerz, we caused a stir. I don't think anyone has ever been in the prescense of that many gingers at once. <br />
<br />
4) My mom and dad hugged Michael. This sounds dumb and not a big deal, but it is. When my mom met my sister's boyfriend, she shook his hand. BUT when burly, great white hunter, the one and only Michael came to town he got a hug! I was impressed. But my dad also kept giving him handshakes at really awkward times....like Sunday morning across the breakfast table, mid conversation. Dad, I know you like him, but I don't think you're on a political campaign so I don't think shaking Michael's hand while he is mid-bite into his banana is necessary. <br />
<br />
5) Three of my friends from DeWitt came to meet the great white hunter. Megan, Leah and Austin (who wore jeans, yes!) Came up to visit on Saturday night. Can I just say it was soooo good to see them. And I'm really glad they got to experience my cousin Jeremy. I know he enjoyed you guys!<br />
<br />
OK, so that was last weekend. Now I need to talk about the greatness of next weekend called the FOURTH OF JULY BOYYYYYYSSSSSS! <br />
<br />
I love the fourth of july. Numerous reasons. <br />
A) No work. Starting tomorrow at 12:01, I will be on vacation time until 5:30 a.m. Wednesday. Let me tell you, much much needed. <br />
<br />
B) River hats. Being a ginger, I have to protect my ginger face. And this year I got the best river hat ever. One day last summer while I worked at the Marshall American Legion Post 113, this old drunk pervert bought me one of the overly patriotic hats the legion sold for five bucks. He asked me to wear it the whole night and he'd "tip me good." One camo hat with an American Flag and Bald eagle and a forty dollar tip later, I got me a sweet river hat. Thanks ya old drunken perv, I'm gonna look awesome this weekend. I don't that hat offers a better symbol of 'MERICA! <br />
<br />
C) Sandy Hagny's awesome cooking. Sandra can cook, ohmylanta she can cook. This is her holiday for sure (also her son's...like mother like son I guess). She called me earlier this week in a panic because she couldn't get a hold of the pulled pork lady. This sent me into a tizzy because Pulled Pork Lady's pork is to die for! She's also asked me numerous times what all we want to eat. Sandy, let me tell you, no matter what you cook will be in my belly before you can start singing the Vatican Rag, so no worries. <br />
<br />
D) The Boat. The Music. The Sunshine. The Friends. In South Dakota, the winter is awful. We had continous days of -10 and below temperatures this past season. Brutal. On those days, I would think back to the fourth of july last year and picture this (imagine it with me): me at the front of the boat, kate winslet circa Titanic style, michael at the helm sporting a seven-year old, on it's last leg, blue cut-off shirt from Abercrombie, a rainbow colored, "Best White-Tail" hat perched on top of his mammoth-sized noggin, Van Halen's Why Can't this Be Love, blaring as we race, take that back, soar over the water, towards our favorite spot, just below the bridge. Yes, people that very image, pulled me through this rough winter. The thought of a few more glorious days on the water with great friends, sunshine and booze kept me going when all I wanted to do was book a vacation for Cancun on a credit card I would never pay for, and in turn, ruin my less than perfect credit even more. I have looked forward to this weekend since it ended last year. And it is almost here.<br />
<br />
One more thing before I go, I wanted to mention someone very special to Michael and myself who will be with us one more time this weekend before he is shipped over seas for active duty. Daniel Hunnel, one of Michael's best friends, started a four-day vacation last night when his girlfriend Jada Hawkinson picked him up in Pierre. We love Danny and Jada very much, and they were a huge part of the success of last year's fourth of July. I'm so happy Danny gets to come spend a few days with us before he has to go serve our country. He is a truly generous guy, and I thank him from the bottom of my heart for not only fighting for our freedom, but for being Michael's friend. Danny will be headed overseas on July 4th, but in his honor, we will remember his saying on Monday, "Just Love it A Little Bit." Go get' em, Danny. <br />
<br />
Shout outs:<br />
Wilbert the 80 year-old landlord: I don't know what you were thinking mowing the lawn today, the hottest day of the summer, but hey, it looks nice. <br />
Brian Mistro: You say I never give you a shout out. Well here it is: my blog is better than yours. fact. <br />
Old Man from Playerz who told me not to let the "brothers" bother me: thanks for the advice, but they weren't bothering us. I would gawk too if I saw that many gingers at one time. <br />
Megan Mac, Leah, and Austin: Thanks so much for coming to see me Saturday! I love you!aimeebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856354205564316772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50189524186723597.post-1106527596767165302011-05-26T15:22:00.000-07:002011-05-26T15:22:03.560-07:00HalfsiesHi All (and by all I mean about seven of you who faithfully read my nonsense, you're great! thanks!)<br />
<br />
Many if not all know I did something very crazy last Saturday: I ran 13.1 miles with 7,000 other people up in Fargo, Nort DakOOOOOOtah. Let me tell you, hardest, most challenging, best thing I've ever done in my life. The atmosphere, the people, the supporters, the hilarious signs, the PAIN (during and after) all added up for an awesome experience. I'll give you some highlights:<br />
<br />
1. Our hotel.<br />
<br />
My friends, Sara, Abby O, and Little Stader (LMM or Megan), stayed at the Grand Inn, the epitome of luxury....not. For 14.25 per person for a night I shouldn't complain too much, but I have to tell you about it: this place was hilarious. We pull up and it looks as though a drug deal is taking place. Lovely. Since Fargo (and all of Morehead spare our grand room at the Grand Inn) was booked, we had to take a smoking room. I think I still smell like a cig. Ick. The bed was my favorite: those old school blankets that fuzz up and you get the fuzzes everywhere and they have the fake silky ribbon things sewn on the ends...we had that, in a mustard-y orange, someone just fed the baby cheetos and she vomited color. Ok I'm done complaining because I am very grateful for Sara finding us a place to crash before we pushed our bodies to the brink of extinction (ok sorry, that's dramatic, not that bad).<br />
<br />
2. Signs<br />
<br />
The support from the people from Fargo (and wherever else they're from) along the race route was AMAZING! The entire race there were people cheering you on, saying we looked great (they lied, i didn't care), saying "you're almost there!" (another lie, i'm over it now) etc. etc. The signs they brought were HILARIOUS. Here are a few of my favorites:<br />
a. A man dressed as the Grim Reaper with a sign outside the fargodome at mile 12.75: the end is near (so much for the world ending<br />
b. Chuck Norris couldn't run 13.1 miles<br />
c. Naked cheerleaders one mile ahead! <br />
d. Free Beer! <br />
And my favorite:<br />
e. Don't sh*t your pants. <br />
<br />
3. Chaffing<br />
<br />
(for those with sensitive stomachs skip down to 4. Fargo Dome. for those who want to laugh at my expense, read on)<br />
People, when you run 13.1 miles, you chaf in places you never thought possible. My poor bum hurt so bad post-race I had to walk holding it up. I can imagine the thoughts of people who saw me waddle around, arse in my paws, like I had just gotten off a horse.<br />
<br />
4. FargoDome<br />
<br />
One of the highlights of the race was definitely running into the FargoDome for the finish. I felt like Marion Jones (pre-steroid bust) running across the finish line with the stands full of people cheering for me. Me! "Heck yes, I just ran 13.1 miles, yeah I know I'm a pretty big deal, hey boo, what's your sign?" Ok, that was another dramatization. I didn't say any of those things. I actually teared up. Awhile back at my brother's graduation my chiropractor and my dad were talking about my race and the conversation went somewhere along the lines of Did you ever think she could do this? In my heart and in my head I knew I could. And in that moment I was so proud of myself and everything that had happened in my life to lead me to that point: two knee surgeries and nearly three years of pain. Running has long been my getaway, my stress-reliever, my drug, but up until that point, I wasn't aware of how far I could push myself. I am so happy I did it, I'm so happy I proved to myself how strong I am. The back of our medals say: I can do all things...(Phil 4:13) It's awesome what we can do when we believe. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh-YhV4emKXj8lP0IPW8z-Upwz9HFOdvCKFw21ocCUBXVLPESPUCqxqF3dDBsY89fTUsbbG4cNs7dGUx-e_TjnYo8wAqsAfS6-f8w2ikyA7fFpaL0mZ_wPBLFc26xz2N_sI4HLNQpHc9w/s320/DSC04636.JPG" t8="true" width="320" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is us, post-race, in all our glory. Holla!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>aimeebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856354205564316772noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50189524186723597.post-35862066102044083662011-05-19T21:49:00.000-07:002011-05-19T21:49:19.442-07:00improvements and changesI didn't realize my bloggy was such a big deal until not one person, but two people asked for a post. Folks (you know who you are), I feel honored. <br />
<br />
So you probs want to know what I've been up to. Well here it is. Lots and lots and lots of big girl work things. I don't feel like I have a life anymore other than working and sleeping. I think I've called my mother, MLB, fifty times about how much I don't like this big girl job business. Last night when I stopped over at my friend Abby O's house (more on that later) I discussed my future life plans. Here they were: a) life insurance agent, b) full-time mary kay lady (also another story) c) crafting, refurbishing, upcycling queen (weird that's also another story, guess my life is more than just work right now). <br />
<br />
So I went to visit one of my besties, Abby O, and pick up a sweet bench that used to be her roommate's. The poor bench sat on the poor all winter so it needed some love. Its one of my five million projects on my plate currently, but seriously, crafting projects and running are the only things helping me keep my sanity lately. So yeah, I sanded the bench tonight. I'm going to go over one more time tomorrow then paint it some real awesome color i think. <br />
<br />
Speaking of projects, i bought something tonight that i've wanted for a long time: a drill. It was only ten dollars so it's probably gonna crap out on me in a month, but I wanted hang a hook thing on my bathroom wall for my towels so they wouldn't be on the floor and submitted to the wrath of all the spiders i share this apartment with. One time my friend schlo told me if I bought a drill i'd be very butch. But ya know what, Schlo Jo, I really like my drill. It helps me do fun things. And guess what else I bought? A handheld sander, a level, and sandpaper. Now all I need is a tool belt. <br />
<br />
Speaking of sharing my apartment....my roommate moved out. Yes, he left. Don't worry, we still are happy go-lucky, black velvet love drunk. He's just back in gettysburg farming. Since he's moving guess what comes down from the walls!? Yep! The beer signs! While I know they look very fraternity-chic, I'm ready for the chance to change up my decor. And Abby O is moving in soon! Yippee! We're going to have fun and do craft things together and cook really nummy food. <br />
<br />
Speaking of crafty things, I planted a garden in gettysburg. Right now it has red onions, yellow onions, red potatoes, and yukon potatoes. BUT! My office garden has tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, green beans, sunflower seeds, and morning glories. They'll be transplanted Sunday after i run my HALF MARATHON in fargo on Sunday. I love my little seeds in my window. I look at them and think of them as my little kids. I can't wait to eat them. Sorry that was vulgar. <br />
<br />
Also, I started selling mary kay. It's my attempt at being my own boss, making extra money, and looking hot all the time. Funny thing is that since I started "selling" I've left the house with out wearing make up more than I did before I sold. Such is life. So if you wanna get hot, let MK and me hook you up. <br />
<br />
I'm not feeling very funny right now. I don't have any good stories. Well I do, but they aren't nutshell appropriate. Maybe after a little more time passes...you know like when something bad happens and someone tells an awful joke, someone else says ohhhh too soon. well yeah its still too soon. but when they come out, you'll laugh. <br />
<br />
Shoutouts:<br />
<br />
V: Ginny, you're my favorite person at work. I think I agree with you when you say if I stick with you, I'll go far. <br />
Jackie E: Ciao! Come stai, Bella! Hope you're enjoying Italy!<br />
Sundrop Girl: Thanks for stealing my dance moves, and becoming rich and famous. You owe me. <br />
Luane from the Real Housewives of New York: I agree with Alex, you are a thug in a cocktail dress. Just because you have the title countess in front of your name (royalty is dead lady, we live in 'Merica) does not mean you know everything about everything. You're a big bully. <br />
Mom: Holla!aimeebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856354205564316772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50189524186723597.post-86873148967663993432011-03-22T14:58:00.000-07:002011-03-22T14:58:48.853-07:00Black RabbitsI need to tell everyone about my weekend. Some laughable things happened. I'll start from the beginning. <br />
<br />
Abby<br />
One of my best friends in the whole wide world came to see me. And we went to gettysburg to see my roommate and his family. <br />
<br />
95 Blue Ford Taurus with sunroof, cd player, leather seats.<br />
Remember this beast, it will come up a time or two in the story.<br />
<br />
Geese<br />
I saw a lot a lot a lot of geese this weekend.<br />
<br />
My Brain<br />
It was definitely on vacation this weekend. <br />
<br />
Ok now that you have some pretty good foundation information let's get into it. So we took Abby's sweet pimped-out Taurus to the Burg (I drove). Now, I've traveled back and forth many a times between Aberdaber and Where the War Wasn't, and I've also gone way over the speed limit many a times (it's South Dakota, no one follows the rules). Well this time, in Betty (or Betsy, or Bev, I can't remember her name) I got caught. Yep, nice ol' police officer pulled me over for going 75 in a 65. Oops. South Dakota has a policy of when you get pulled over you go back and sit in the cop car. I thought it was kinda fun, so many buttons and gadgets and all that jazz. So I sat there and we discussed a few important things. Here's a small sampling of the convo:<br />
<br />
Aimee (A): I really thought the speed limit through here was 70<br />
Nice Police Officer (NPO): No all two-lane highways in South Dakota are 65. Four lanes are 70<br />
A: Hmm I must have been thinking of Montana then.<br />
NPO: I've only been on interstate in Montana.<br />
A: Are there even any other roads in Montana?<br />
NPO: Uhhh yeah I'm sure there's some back roads somewhere.<br />
Awkard pause in which i realize i'm slighly an idiot<br />
<br />
NPO to the guy on the other end of the walkie-talkie: Driver's name is: Adam Ida Matthew Edward Edward...blah blah blah he was speaking in that cool police officer code.<br />
A (after he finishes my name and abby's): That's impressive<br />
NPO: Smiles.<br />
I'm an idiot, but also, a flirt. One time when I was younger my mom said I had a flirting problem. I agree. Anyway, I got out of the ticket and back on the road we went.<br />
<br />
When we got to G-town we had to go see Mick and Sandy so we drove out to the house. We laughed and hooted and hollered like we always do, then my roommate said we should come into town, so we did. Now. the snow has been melting like crazy up in these parts, and well some of the roads are covered in water, driveable, but covered. And Mick said before we left that if it looked dangerous turn around and go the other way. SO Abby and I head into town on the gravels and we made it over one road that was covered, but then we came upon another that looked waaayyy too deep in the darkness. I turn the car around because I saw a road sign a little bit earlier and I saw the lights of the town down that way. So we took the road. And all this time Abby and I are being obnoxious and laughing, you know just being reunited and loving. So we don't really notice that our "road" has turned to mud. Oops. Turns out our road was, yes, partially a road, but, it turned into a section line. We tried putting it in reverse then back in drive to try and wiggle ourselves free, but nope, we were in there like swimwear (backyard baseball circa 2000 reference). So we tried the State Farm trick, you know "Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there! With beer! And a tow truck!" No, didn't work. So we called Michael to come save the day. In the meantime we made friends with the two raccoons that kept staring at us two dingleberries making a lot of noise in the car. At one point, Abby tried to name one of them Roccoco after the famous era of art. So she's screaming "ROCCOCO! ROCCOCO! The coons were not impressed. <br />
<br />
After 25 minutes, Michael and his friend DJ pulled us out. Thank goodness Betsy the beast has a trailer hitch on it (Do you know of any Taurus with a trailer hitch!?) so we were pulled out easy as pie.<br />
<br />
Ok so that was just Friday. Saturday we did some fun things. I did I mean, Abby and the roommate slept. But I found a sweet rodeo jacket, with the letters TPBR (I decided that stands for Totally.Professional.Bull.Riding. duh), wore it around, looked for geese with Mick Mick all day, drank a few bloody mary's and went on a car ride with mick, sandy and sleeping beauty, Abby. So here's when we once again realize my brain is on Vaca. On the way back to the house, I saw something black and furry in the grass. And I SWORE it was a black rabbit! So me and my big fat mouth said, "Y'all got black rabbits around here?" Welp, found out they don't. Oops. <br />
<br />
So those are the fun parts of the weekend. We also pulled Mick out of an at-least decade old retirement from bowling (man the bullrider can roll a rock!) And I ran six miles sunday. And died. What's new. <br />
<br />
Shout outs: <br />
<br />
The nice man who gave me my South Dakota driver's license place today: thanks for breaking the rules and letting me smile.<br />
My roommate: Thanks for a great dinner last night. <br />
Ray from Kens Super Fair Foods: Thanks for such a great deal on those sandwich buns. Man! .23 cents a bun is out of this world!<br />
Mom: Hiiiiiiiii.<br />
Glee Cast: See you tonight on my DVR!aimeebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856354205564316772noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50189524186723597.post-74523260069565713652011-03-18T10:05:00.000-07:002011-03-18T10:05:30.733-07:00ketchupLike the title? It says ketchup, because I haven't written forever so I need to ketchup. Haha good joke right!? <br />
<br />
All right, I'll start from the beginning: this job equals major buttkicker. Who knew sitting at my desk on my exercise ball for nine hours would take so much out of me. Ohmylanta. The first week of work I went home every night and glued my bum to the couch. Did not move until bed time. Yikes. I've adjusted now. I'm just busy all day. Do you want to hear how my day normally goes? Ok I know you do. <br />
-I get to work at around 8 am. Get kinda settled in, fill up my exercise ball a little bit, check my e-mail, send a million messages to my friend megan p. on the third floor then maybe check out the aberdeen american news. <br />
-Then I answer five bagillion e-mails. Seriously, five bagillion. I didn't realize how much e-mail is used by people with big girl jobs, but it's used a lot. <br />
-My office is right by the ladies bathroom so I watch who goes in and out of there. There are two ladies that go in there more than most, but I will not use names for confidentitiality purposes, and embarassment purposes. <br />
- I usually write some stuff that I put on the website, <a href="http://www.pcsaints.com/">http://www.pcsaints.com/</a>, which is a pretty stellar website if you ask me. <br />
-I'm currently working on our golf tournament plans. The tournament isn't until June 13, but since this is my first ever golf tournament, i'm trying to get started early. In similar news, I never ever thought I'd be planning a golf tournament.<br />
-Around 11:45 to 12 I start to get antsy and my stomach starts yelling, literally yelling, its so stinking loud I feel people down at the end of the hall can hear it. I bring my lunch everyday. I"m a money saver and my roomate always makes way too much food for dinner so I eat it for lunch the next day. <br />
-I also purchased a YMCA membership this week, so I've started to run over my lunch break. I did three and a half miles over the noon hour on Wednesday, and I came back to work looking like a bright red lobster because for some real dumb reason exercise makes my face decide to go into red-mode. <br />
-All right so after lunch I work on some more sports information and advancement stuff. I'm not really allowed to go into detail about it because it's top secret stuff. Jokes, I'm just too lazy to write it all down.<br />
-Oh another thing. I go to alot of meetings. Dumb meetings. I realize, I don't really like meetings. I'm not very good at listening to a person talk about something completely irrelevant to me. So meetings equal the pits. <br />
-I leave between 4:30 and 5. Depending on the weather, my mood, the color shirt I wore that day, and how mad my stomach is. <br />
<br />
All right, that's my day-to-day in a nutshell. haha in a nutshell! that's my blog! Now onto some real exciting stuff. <br />
<br />
Sewing Machine.<br />
It arrived. I took it out of its box. I looked at it. I stored it behind my couch (see previous paragraphs for reasoning).<br />
<br />
Half-Marathon<br />
I'm running like crazy. Yesterday I did four miles, Wednesday I did three and a half. Monday I did five. This Sunday I have to do six. Balllllin. My poor feet are ugly now. Sorry, feet. <br />
<br />
Chairs<br />
I came across some pretty sweet old chairs that got some pretty good bones on them. After I finish writing I am heading to menards to pick up a stripper. Wood stripper, get your minds out of the gutter people. <br />
<br />
Abby<br />
One of my best friends in the whole wide world named Abby Kenealy is coming to visit me today. I am so super dooper excited because tonight we are going to Gettysburg to see my roommate and his family and we're going to do a lot of fun things. Like work on my chairs. Shoot my gun. Shoot my gun at clay pigeons. Shoot Mick's gun. Shoot Mick's gun at rabbits. Drink red beers. Fun will be had by all and I cannot wait for it to start!<br />
<br />
St. Patrick's Day<br />
My St. Patrick's Day sadly did not live up to previous St. Patrick's Days. For a number of reasons, the biggest reason being I was missing my women. In good ol' Marshy, we used to go pretty buck on St. Paddy's day. Now they still go buck, just without me. Another reason I didn't have fun was because I was tired and stressed (again see first paragraphs of entry). And lastly, I didn't get corned beef and cabbage. However, all was not lost. Lagers had the Aberdeen Fire Dept. Band perform last night, and they had BAGPIPES! Took me right back to my first day in Glasgow, Scotland. Hearing that beautiful sound (Grandma Milly Feeney hates them, she told us we're not allowed to have them at her funeral) made everything nearly better. Oh, and riding the drunk bus sober last night was also interesting. The girl who sat next to me sobbed the whole time and when she got off the bus, she slipped and fell on the ice. Sorry I'm laughing at your expense, dear. Happy St. Paddy's Day. <br />
<br />
Cowboy Stuff<br />
I went to a wedding in the Burg two weeks ago. Sasquatch and I wore cowboy gear. We were pretty nice looking. I wore Mick's cowboy boots and hat, and Sandy's turquoise necklace. I'm tellin ya people, I was a looker that night. Anywho, I danced my little buns off the whole night in my cowboy gear, and the next morning, my poor toes were so ouchy! BUT I realized I really want cowboy boots. I told my roommate and some of his friends that I want some. I hope he can take a hint and get them for me. <br />
<br />
Ok, I think I'm caught up on the important things. I'll be back soon. I promise.<br />
<br />
Shoutouts:<br />
Abby Oakland: We still need to make gumbo.<br />
Abby Kenealy: Hurry up and get here.<br />
Erin B.: Enjoy your weekend. T-minus 5.5 owlhairs.<br />
Erin Jo.: SPF. <br />
Maggie May: I miss you Maggers.<br />
Patrick: I think you need to visit NSU.<br />
Zac: I hope you're having a great Mustache March.<br />
Velma the receptionist: Sorry I scared you when you were sleeping at your desk yesterday. aimeebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856354205564316772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50189524186723597.post-46719392149727073402011-02-28T21:11:00.000-08:002011-02-28T21:11:58.348-08:00pioneerSorry. It's been awhile. <br />
<br />
I've been busy. Well technically this weekend, I wasn't busy at all. I sat on my couch pretty much the entire 48 hours watching Keeping up with the Kardashians. My kinda party. I was slightly productive. I indulged my new craft obbsession by purchasing fabric and my sewing machine. Should be here by Thursday. Ballllinnn!<br />
<br />
But enough with the small talk, let's get to the meat and potatoes of today's entry: my. new. job. That's right ladies and gents. I started work today as the Sports Information Director and Athletic Advancement at Presentation College. I didn't sleep well last night cuz I was scared I'd sleep through my 7:00 a.m. alarm (which I didn't since I woke up every hour). Anywho, I got to work, filled out some paperwork, played with my new computer, did sports information type things, and had an all-around productive/exciting/overwhelming day. <br />
<br />
Let me tell you a few of the interesting facts about the day:<br />
-I have my own office. Its nice and big and I have a lap top as well as a single monitor that I can hook up to the lap top. There's some way to show two different things on each screen but I haven't figured that out yet. So today I sat there with two of the same screens. I tried to use my peripheral vision to see both screens at once while staring straight ahead. My head started to hurt.<br />
-My office is mostly beige, with one weird colored orange wall. I don't know why someone would choose this orange, it's real gross looking. I'll paint it soon. Light green. And sew some curtains for the windows. <br />
-There is a poster from either WWII or the Korean Conflict in my office. It's of a nurse encouraging other women to become nurses. I'm going to keep it and frame it. <br />
-This is the big one: I'm a pioneer. That's right, I made history today. I am the first female sports information director in the Upper Midwest Athletic Conference. Pretty fricken sweet if you ask me! <br />
<br />
So yeah, I had a good day. I like Presentation, things are happening at a progressive rate, and the president is a woman from Australia. My kind of place!<br />
<br />
Shout outs:<br />
-My two Erin's: Thanks for gong home this weekend while I hung out with Kim and Kourtney. I'm a jelly. <br />
-My dog Maggie: I hope you're skin allergies aren't keeping you awake at night anymore. <br />
-Abby Oakland: Sorry I couldn't be at Northern today to talk about a whole lot of funny things. I'll see you in my best friend's class tomorrow. <br />
-My roommate/sasquatch/awesome boyfriend: Thanks for turning my purchase of wrong ingredients into a really good homemade pizza. Sometimes you're a good cook. I'm still better. <br />
-Bucky Covington: See you Thursday!aimeebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856354205564316772noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50189524186723597.post-84418613484722214832011-02-24T17:01:00.000-08:002011-02-24T17:01:37.676-08:00Zombies love you for your brainThat's a random statement. Similar to my life right now. I've been feeling random and a little out of sorts. But in a good way. Here are a few examples of my randomness.<br />
<br />
Crafts<br />
As of two and a half days ago, I've been obbsessed with anything handmade, homemade, refurbished and the like. I think this obbsession is stemming from my desire to decorate my apartment (see previous post). So for the last two days in the office I have been spending ridiculous amounts of time looking at the website, <a href="http://www.etsy.com/">Etsy</a>. Its a website of absolutely everything and anything made by real humans and not machines in factories, or small Chinese women (sorry, those are real humans too, my mistake). Anyway, they have really awesome stuff that I know would look awesome in my apartment. All this looking at handmade stuff gave me an epiphany: I can make that stuff too! So today when I left work I headed straight for the Salvation Army to find a wooden frame that I could put a piece of plywood and paint with chalkboard paint. Only, when I got there I completely lucked out: I found a wooden frame WITH a piece of plywood in it! Yahtzeee! One stipulation, someone had carved an illustration of two sitting pheasants into it. I tried sanding it when I got home, but I was just too lazy so I painted right over it. You can only see it if you stand at just the right angle (ok so that angle is straight in front of it-don't judge me). I feel accomplished now. I made something neato for my kitchen. Too bad I don't have chalk. I'll get some. <br />
<br />
I also want to start sewing. I found a little sewing machine on Ebay for twenty bucks that I think will be a good investment. I want to make pillows for my couch and some curtains for my living room window, and a runner for my kitchen. I found a pretty easy looking pattern on some lady's blog today so I'll let you know how it goes. <br />
<br />
Bowling<br />
I found out today that Northern State offers bowling as an intramural sport! Now, I will be the first to tell you that my 84 average is nothing to get excited about, but I really like bowling. Last year, when my roommate and I had just kinda start seeing each other (real secretive and on the down-low like) we would always go bowling. Who ever lost would have to buy the other person a drink, so by the end of our night, I'd be poor and he'd be sauced. Since then, I've only come close to beating Michael two times-both at Liberty Lanes in Gettysburg once at three in the morning after the American Legion closed, and once when we subbed for some people he knew in Monday night league. Shout out to Brett Bauer, you run a mean bowling alley, and cook a tasty Red Baron pizza, friend. Anyway, since I found out there's intramural bowling, I've been trying to figure out a way I can get into it. If not I could always go on Monday nights here in Aberdeen when bowling is only ONE DOLLAR a game! <br />
<br />
Half Marathon<br />
I'm running a half marathon on May 19 or 20 or something in Fargo. This was supposed to be my first week of training. I haven't ran yet. I better tonight. More on that adventure at another time. <br />
<br />
Leftovers<br />
I have a lot of leftovers in my fridge right now. I like to cook too much and I always forget that I have perfectly good food from last night's dinner waiting to be eaten in my fridge. I think, after my run, I'm going to eat a bunch of them and take care of those leftovers. Ok, maybe not a bunch. Just some. <br />
<br />
Shoutouts<br />
<br />
My brother Patrick who I love dearly: Tonight Pat is balling it up in Maquoketa, Iowa against my mother, Mary Linda's alma mater, Dubuque Wahlert. Good luck fool. Maybe after you win you can text me and we can be friends again?<br />
<br />
Megan Stadler, affectionately known as LMM: I think you should move to Aberdeen. Bring Ollie Cooper Dash Puff. Maybe not, I can't have pets here. P.S. Let's go to Scotland again.<br />
<br />
Bucky Covington: Thanks for your consideration in choosing Aberdeen as a location for your tour. Your $10 tickets for next Thursday's show guaruntee that I will in fact be in the crowd. <br />
<br />
Megan Betz: I hope you're ear infection is going away. Those are the pits.aimeebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856354205564316772noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50189524186723597.post-65782466681258626722011-02-22T21:46:00.000-08:002011-02-22T21:48:27.800-08:00soapI'm sorry, I'm going to climb on my soap box for a little bit. Today's topic: grad school. <br />
<br />
I'm almost half-way through my first semester as a graduate student at Northern State University. I like NSU; nice people, laid-back atmosphere, athletics, you get the picture. But there are two things that are bothering me: the curriculum of one of my classes, and a teacher that speaks English as a second language. <br />
<br />
Step one on the soap box: curricula.<br />
So today in my 10 a.m. class we were discussing the APA style of writing. Helpful for me because I've never used APA format before. However, after going through a few slides we had to write examples of topic sentences. Now, I'm 23, almost 23.5. And I'm in grad school. So are the people in my classes. My question is, why are we talking about topic sentences, something we were taught from first grade on, in a graduate level class? Couple things about this bother me. A) Why am I spending money to sit in a class and do something I did on my parents' money way back at St. Joseph's Elementary School? This class is a two credit course, which at NSU is costing me about $600. Six-hundo and I'm learning how to structure a paragraph. Another thing bothering me about this is B) Why do we have to go over this in a grad level class? Where along the way did people not pick up on sentence and paragraph structure. Like I said before, I've been drilled with topic sentences since I came into this world, so where have we failed ourselves and not learned how to write? How bad has our society become at stringing words together to form sentences that express our ideas. This is mind-boggling to me, folks. <br />
<br />
I'm almost done complaining, I swear. My second on the soap box: professors who speak english as a foreign language.<br />
<br />
Earlier I mentioned I pay $600 for a two credit course, so with my great math skills, I've figured out I pay $900 for three credit class. Once again, I feel like I'm wasting my money because one of my professors uses broken English. Let's call this professor, Dr. Deadleg. Now Dr. Deadleg has done his work. He has his doctrate, so he's been around the educational block a time or two. So he probably knows what he's talking about, problem is, no one else does. The other day he was describing a "heartattack," or so I thought. Luckily from his broken English powerpoint slides I could tell he meant "hard tax." I did not know that all citizens of any given town must pay a heartattack. That's unfortunate. So back to my money. Northern State is paying this professor to teach students, yet, every student I've talked to has gotten nothing from his class. The state of South Dakota is facing a ten percent budget cut, the education system included. I'm sure Dr. Deadleg will keep a job, students will still waste their money on a class they don't understand and in the end, be the ones getting the short end of the stick. <br />
<br />
All right, I'm done venting. Sorry about that. <br />
<br />
In other news, I've been trying to decorate my apartment for my roommate (Michael) and myself. He has done a great job of helping me. Nailing things to the walls, voicing his opinion, and my favorite, hanging his own decor, beer signs (including one neon Budweiser sign) in our living room. Lovely. Does anyone know how to make a Miller Genuine Draft sign look country chic? Any help would be much appreciated.<br />
<br />
Shout outs:<br />
<br />
The woman on TLC's <em>What Not to Wear</em> right now: If you just described the shirt you put on as "something my grandmother may have crotcheted while drinking," please don't buy it. <br />
<br />
Erin : I hope D-Day went well and you took my clothing advice, by that I mean the nice sweater and Bulldog brooch. Jokes. But seriously, I hope you wore my suggestion.<br />
<br />
Wilbert my landlord: Please get rid of the no pets rule. While the roommate may look like an Irish Setter with that ungodly beard, I would like an actual dog. Thanks. <br />
<br />
Derick Stanley: Good talk on Saturday. Thanks for fighting the fire at Bosch's. Please tell Reese he has my vote for Citizen of the Year.<br />
<br />
Mumford and Sons: How did I live before your music?aimeebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856354205564316772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50189524186723597.post-47631006147066756632011-02-21T14:02:00.001-08:002011-02-21T14:08:19.170-08:00Only the good die young<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I think Billy Joel was kinda wrong, especially when it comes to the case of my grandparents, Bob and Milly Feeney. Those crazy kids are tied and true saints if I’ve ever met any. But you know what? They’re nowhere near young. I wanna say Bob and Milly are about 85, give or take a year or two, and they are two of my favorite people in the entire world. Here are a few reasons why: a) they are my grandma and grandpa so naturally they have to spoil me and tell me I’m great at everything and they are just so proud of me blah blah blah, b) they are hilarious! For example, when I got my gun for my birthday I called Bob and Milly and Bob just laughed and laughed and laughed, but Milly got on the phone and said, “Oh dear, I’ll pray for you.” Or when my Great-Uncle Bill passed away a few years ago, Bob and Milly had all the family and friends over after the wake. At one point when everyone was talking and laughing and enjoying each others’ company, Grandma Milly leaned over to my Aunt JoJo and said “I don’t think these people are too sad.” Grandma Milly has such a dry sense of humor you have to be real quick to catch it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Another time was when we came to visit and Bob had been shooting squirrels that climbed on the deck and on the bird feeders. One came up and he was gonna shoot it when Milly screamed, "Damnit Bob, I told you to put that gun away!" Those two, they're perfect for each other. </span></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And finally c) Bob and Milly are the coolest people in the world because they don’t act old. When I was on my to Gettysburg for Sandy’s birthday celebration (and fire at Bosch’s, get-together at Lucy’s,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and getting stuck in town at Quiett’s for just my third blizzard of my life) I called Bob and Milly to catch up on what was new. Grandpa said that it was going to be a pretty quiet weekend, but yesterday they had some adventures. Grandpa had a big coin show to go to in Dubuque, “It’s a pretty big one, people from Minneapolis and Omaha and all over come to it.” And Grandma had to go to “work”, which really isn’t work, but Grandma goes to the riverboat casino every Sunday to play keno. More often than not she wins at least $500 dollars which then gets put in her “fun money” fund. So it kinda is work, because she’s earning money to have fun with us Weasley-family, look-alike grandkids. I appreciate her work, and I’m following in her footsteps as I refuse to play anything but Keno on video lottery. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Here are a few more examples of how my grandma and grandpa refuse to act old:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">-Bob volunteers as a tour guide at the aquarium in Dubuque. A few days a week, he gives elementary school kids and senior citizen tours of all the cool animals and fish and alligators and stuff at the aquarium.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">-Until Bob was about 75, he did RAGBRAI, which, for those of you who don’t know, is a week-long bike excursion from the western boarder of Iowa to the eastern boarder of Iowa (I know people my age can’t even do that)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">-Bob and Milly still drive west every year for Easter. They usually go to New Mexico and Arizona and California, and drive the entire way, all by themselves. I’m sure they listen to Danny O’Donnell in their big white Cadillac too. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So maybe in a way, Billy Joel was right that only the good die young. But “young” can be defined as how you act. Bob and Milly are still alive and kicking in their mid-eighties. And they act as young as me and my friends. Rock on Bob and Milly! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Shout outs:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Tim and Michelle Evans: They just found out they are going to be the proud parents of a baby boy AND baby girl! Congratulations, guys, I’m really happy for you!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My brother Patrick: Sorry I<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>sent you a plant on Valentine’s Day saying “Happy Valentine’s Day, enjoy being single, love, aimee.” It wasn’t meant to be mean, and meant in good fun. Can we be friends again yet?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Erin Jo: Congrats on the wins in ‘Bama. Thanks for the picture of the poisoned trees. Next time remember the SPF. Go Duggies!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My gay husband Ben: Sorry about those mean people at State Forensics. SMSU Forensicators are number one in my book!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Mom and Dad: Hi guys, I miss you. </span></div>aimeebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856354205564316772noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50189524186723597.post-10499042590679106772011-02-18T10:49:00.000-08:002011-02-18T10:49:03.069-08:00firstiesI'm a copycat. My best friend Erin Jo Schlotfeldt started a blog (to view, click <a href="http://schlo06.blogspot.com/">here </a>)awhile ago and I really liked reading it so I decided I should write one too (in hopes that maybe others will like it). So here we go.<br />
<br />
I'm currently living in Aberdeen, South Dakota. I work at Northern State in the Sports Information Department, but starting Feb. 28 I will be the Sports Information Director at Presentation College, the small Catholic college in town. I'm pumped for a number of reasons: a) I got a big girl job! b) I'm doing exactly what I want to do with my career. 7) I'll be making moolah. <br />
<br />
I'm going to see my boyfriend's family this weekend. It was his mom's birthday earlier this week (Happy Birthday, Sandy!) so we're going to celebrate. Those folks in Gettysburg sure know how to celebrate. Anywhoo Michael (the bf) got me a pink shotgun for my birthday (remington 870 pump action with mossy oak camo) which was way back in november. We still haven't put the gun in my name so I have to take the blushing beauty with me tomorrow so we can take care of that business. I never in my wildest dreams thought I would ever own a gun in my life. And now I do. Crazier things have happened I guess. <br />
<br />
In related news, I have to become a resident of South Dakota now. I'm torn by this fact because I love being an Iowan (52742, holla!). There's just something about the place that was once referred to as "Heaven" (Field of Dreams, 1987, "Is this heaven?" "No, its Iowa.") that I have trouble parting with. I will always be an Iowan, speciffically Eastern Iowan, at heart. BUT, now that I will switch my driver's license from Iowa to Sodak I can get an in-state hunting licsense for a fraction of the price I would have had to pay as an Iowan. Now, many may say, "Aimee, you don't hunt!" but the truth is, I think I do. I mean I own a gun, I've shot it seven times, maybe eight, and when I went with Michael and his father, Mick! Mick! The Bull Rider!, I actually enjoyed it. That's another thing I never thought I'd say. Sooo yes, I'm gonna get a hunting license, and then I'm going to shoot some roosters. Until then, I'm gonna practice my accuracy on Big Buck Hunter in the living room.<br />
<br />
Shout outs:<br />
Jacque Scoby: my boss. It's her birthday. Happy Birthday.<br />
Erin Jo: Roll Tide<br />
My sister Erin: Don't lose your wallet today.<br />
My Mom: Hi, I miss you.<br />
Garth Brooks: Please go on tour again. Thanks.aimeebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856354205564316772noreply@blogger.com1