tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70797420578063779702024-03-07T00:39:52.759-08:00The Blog of Annie PetersenThe artist formally known as Ms. Summersanniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.comBlogger169125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-16356332172972644292009-07-08T16:35:00.001-07:002009-07-08T16:35:50.097-07:00New BlogI finally did it. I finally made a new blog... here it is:<br /><br />www.annieepetersen.blogspot.comanniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-8311875474663991992009-01-09T10:55:00.000-08:002009-01-09T11:29:39.483-08:00Amber Baker, I must love you.Just for you, Amber, here are seven more <a href="http://anniesummers.blogspot.com/2008/11/thanks-alyssa.html">random facts</a> about me.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">1. I really hate the feeling of make up on my face, so I rarely wear it.</span> If I'm going somewhere where I feel like I <span style="font-style: italic;">must </span>wear make up, the second I get home I usually wash it off.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">2. My feet are always cold.</span> It doesn't matter if I'm wearing socks and Ugs, and sometimes it doesn't even matter if I'm wearing 3 pairs of socks and my Ugs, my feet are still cold. weird- I know.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">3. I eat grapefruit weird.</span> I like to cut it like It's an orange and eat it that way, instead of eating it like most people do.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">4. Scarves are my favorite accessory... ever. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">5. I'm a camel when it comes to water. </span>Whenever I go out to eat with Drew or friends, my water glass probably gets refilled about 9 times. And, not like the waiter or waitress keeps topping off my glass, it's usually like I drink the whole glass and they come fill it all the way up again.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">6. Whenever it rains, if I'm home by myself, I have to watch </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">You've Got Mail</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">, or </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Sleepless in Seattle</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">7. I love breakfast. </span>I could eat donuts, pastries, muffins, and bread for every meal for the rest of my life and be happy. I probably won't, becasue I think that my self control is a little better than that, but I would sure like to!anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-55745609677493357382008-11-26T04:00:00.000-08:002008-11-26T04:39:28.931-08:00Resses Pleasses!Last night Drew and I didn't have any plans, which rarely happens. I feel like we're always going somewhere, doing something, or meeting someone. I love staying busy like that, but every once in a while its nice to have <span style="font-style: italic;">nothing</span> planned. So, after dinner we decided to go to the grocery store and get stuff to make gingerbread houses!<br /><br />Well, my husband is... amazing. He's one of those people that you love to hate becasue they're so dang good at everything. But I don't hate him for that... he's my hero. His gingerbread house (which we actually made with graham crackers becasue it's cheaper, easier, and in my opinion more delicious) was incredible. I am biased when it comes to my husband, becasue he's my favorite, but his ginger bread house was truly amazing. It looked like an architect had made it. Just look at the dimensions that house has!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpY5hq3vJZagMjFdNUjGQhzVyyVwIzsl-g8q5cETiLN-iTloyQ_qkjzwcoIxjjrzbQsipK3ad7nYnxsPIWeFL5Oz56FU-WpzVtvASdXFfXowEcy5rnHa4GNDwf9VT7BSuFx8q4BTRGicfu/s1600-h/Photo+453.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpY5hq3vJZagMjFdNUjGQhzVyyVwIzsl-g8q5cETiLN-iTloyQ_qkjzwcoIxjjrzbQsipK3ad7nYnxsPIWeFL5Oz56FU-WpzVtvASdXFfXowEcy5rnHa4GNDwf9VT7BSuFx8q4BTRGicfu/s320/Photo+453.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272941140764172706" border="0" /></a>I was too timid to try anything fancy, but I liked mine becasue it had a reeses pieces roof and a Christmas tree out in front.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTf96FG8NtkDDJe_NvoVcM9TzdAZE8J3udKfPB90tGHoTCzHyMlqBS9_n3Rj98aT4NOgTdOcQtXKAMkz47SQ3cpGz8o1eW1cFNW0DoAI7uoiIqxxHPDPahiqsjHGJxIL1FEV89jda8-Gvw/s1600-h/Photo+455.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTf96FG8NtkDDJe_NvoVcM9TzdAZE8J3udKfPB90tGHoTCzHyMlqBS9_n3Rj98aT4NOgTdOcQtXKAMkz47SQ3cpGz8o1eW1cFNW0DoAI7uoiIqxxHPDPahiqsjHGJxIL1FEV89jda8-Gvw/s320/Photo+455.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272942457166490498" border="0" /></a><br />Yes, yes, I know it's not even Thanksgiving yet... but it's Christmas time in the Petersen house!anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-25836017702110979462008-11-25T06:48:00.001-08:002008-11-25T06:48:56.129-08:00A good omen for the dayToday is going to be a great day... why? Well, I just finished the laundry and every sock had a pair! Hooray!anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-15032595714127375722008-11-23T12:09:00.000-08:002008-11-23T13:10:02.363-08:00HGTV is my ESPN<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRP6_UsTHyi21oAyv46oYSrOFijnYUZ5REpiTIez1lBfuD4P16DUxmKU8Bu9M5h6L2sJZa4n7q2HblOphSM4zLKTkqQglaZJsmfsfK2hYA8USyk1nyVseFCq4O-jru7MvwsJzueXHVTTbw/s1600-h/0101659_BEFORE-asian-bedroom-wide_s4x3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRP6_UsTHyi21oAyv46oYSrOFijnYUZ5REpiTIez1lBfuD4P16DUxmKU8Bu9M5h6L2sJZa4n7q2HblOphSM4zLKTkqQglaZJsmfsfK2hYA8USyk1nyVseFCq4O-jru7MvwsJzueXHVTTbw/s320/0101659_BEFORE-asian-bedroom-wide_s4x3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271960620374898018" border="0" /></a><br />Sunday is lazy day at the Petersen home. After two services at church, meeting with friends afterwards, and running errands, we're usually ready to get home and crash. Today that meant laying in front of the TV in our pajamas. <span style="font-style: italic;">My favorite.</span><br /><br />As Drew was flipping through some channels he passed by HGTV (Home and garden channel) and Design on a Dime was on. I told him that I hated that show because I am usually so disappointed in the outcomes of the rooms. I yell at the people and say things like, "Why would you do that!" and "OH come on... that was <span style="font-style: italic;">HORRIBLE</span>!" and "You can do better than that, don't let me down!" Like a guy would yell at the quarterback for throwing an interception. I bet if someone wasn't watching TV with me, but they could hear me yelling they might put money down that I was watching some kind of sport.<br /><br />Now I can understand why guys get so into sports. But for me, it's not a football team that I get worked up over. It's depressing seeing such great rooms <span style="font-style: italic;">lose</span> to such awful designers.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Note: There are some shows that I love on HGTV. Quite a few in fact, and those are the designers that I cheer for and get excited about watching in action.</span>anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-78621650826290830462008-11-18T07:18:00.000-08:002008-11-18T08:36:46.661-08:00I never thought I would see the day...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl9Dn5vaSSSKY0tS_6B9kmrtDQIpHJ7uhqWhW83yaJjcufeC9MqSKshoyQoElsqaZ0G9KZcW5p46hv8VaDSZmmx0xS6g9SGCiXclwQg4x-c-IUI38Pk_26edX5x0jtHvXAxyI7ScV7De4e/s1600-h/martha_snoop.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 274px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl9Dn5vaSSSKY0tS_6B9kmrtDQIpHJ7uhqWhW83yaJjcufeC9MqSKshoyQoElsqaZ0G9KZcW5p46hv8VaDSZmmx0xS6g9SGCiXclwQg4x-c-IUI38Pk_26edX5x0jtHvXAxyI7ScV7De4e/s320/martha_snoop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270037359974604674" border="0" /></a><br /><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" >Today, on Martha Stewart, Snoop Dog was her guest. <span style="font-style: italic;">Seriously. </span>I would bet that even the best story teller in the world, would never even think to put those two in the same story... let alone be the same kitchen.<br /><br />Snoop dog... on <span style="font-style: italic;">Martha Stewart</span>?<br /><br />The hood vs. the Hampton's...<br />The rebel vs. the traditional...<br />The gangsta vs. the cupcake...<br />The bling master vs. the cashmere queen...<br />Fried Chicken vs. </span><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" >Grilled Chicken with Kumquat-Lemongrass Dressing...<br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" >Like a train wreck, I watched- in complete fear- as Martha and Snoop made mashed potatoes.<br /><br />They pealed the "ski-zins", talked about his posse, learned some vocab words that Snoop said were "essential to sound cool in da hood." Oh, and my favorite part? They talked about his new Christmas Album, featuring songs such as <span style="font-style: italic;">Santa Clause goes strait to the ghetto, Christmas in the Ghetto, and Party 4 da Homies</span>. I looked this up becasue I thought he was kidding. But, I should have known better. I would like to be in the car with Martha or making mashed potatoes with her, when she listens from the beginning to the end of Snoops entire Christmas CD. I'm not sure what she would say or what would happen... but I am pretty sure I wouldn't want to miss it.<br /><br />Also, I started keeping track of how many times Snoop asked what they were making. And, in 10 minutes Martha had to remind him 12 times that they were making mashed potatoes*.<br /><br />The rest of the show wasn't worth watching, becasue I think that Martha is awkward, and I like her magazine much better... but I just couldn't change the channel while snoop was in her kitchen.<br /><br />* This is why you shouldn't do drugs.<br /></span>anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-20331243429193903442008-11-04T04:57:00.000-08:002008-11-04T05:45:32.968-08:00Thanks Alyssa...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq06xXQIHfUR86uexh-_1x2pk980ZcTBSD1PYWbsZSMlkqClKnpXGh_0wURhipK1Sm6AOUFfaEFjoZTT4oatRqO6V6ObQA-5D1cLYm3H28SVaLhJaFUEtIMq7l6l0PJ4ex0UMSF6DtOPfs/s1600-h/tagged%5B4%5D.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 156px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq06xXQIHfUR86uexh-_1x2pk980ZcTBSD1PYWbsZSMlkqClKnpXGh_0wURhipK1Sm6AOUFfaEFjoZTT4oatRqO6V6ObQA-5D1cLYm3H28SVaLhJaFUEtIMq7l6l0PJ4ex0UMSF6DtOPfs/s200/tagged%5B4%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264787405863259170" border="0" /></a>So I'm not a huge fan of being tagged, but I am a huge fan of the lovely lady who tagged me, Alyssa Maine, so I will set aside my selfish desire to <span style="font-style: italic;">not</span> blog and I will blog.<br /><br />Ok seven random facts about myself...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">1. I never sneeze just once.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Never</span>. My sneezes almost always come in two-zies... but I do remember sneezing nine times in a row once. I know, pretty impressive.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">2. I know every single word to these Disney soundtracks: Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Peter Pan, Beauty and the Beast, Alice in Wonderland, Sword in the Stone, and Aladdin. </span>Also, as a side note, I still love watching all of these movies. Drew say's that it doesn't bug him when I sing along, but I have a feeling that my tone-deafness will get to him over time.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">3. I would rather wear pajamas. </span>I love shopping, <span style="font-style: italic;">LOVE IT</span>, maybe more than I should... but my favorite thing to wear is pajamas.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">4. I think the man on the Quaker oatmeal box is creepy. </span>I don't know what it is about him, maybe his hat, or scary smile. But, I'm pretty sure that if I was ever living my worst nightmare he would be hiding in my closet... I just got shivers thinking about how scary that would be.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">5. I can't go to sleep unless I am surrounded by pillows. </span>More specifically, I can't sleep without my body pillow. I've had it for a few years, and it looks worn and pathetic, but I'm addicted. You can't judge a pillow by it's outside... it's the coziest thing I own.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">6. I love Seattle. </span>I love the weather and I love that you can walk everywhere, or take the bus. One day I would love to live in Seattle and own my own little coffee shop that Drew and I live above. *sigh*<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">7. I have to have coffee everyday.<br /><br /></span>So there you go, seven random facts about me. If it's ok, I'm not going to tag anyone, but if you would like to be tagged... consider yourself tagged. <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span>anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-86397132273263834062008-08-28T04:50:00.001-07:002008-08-28T05:30:44.420-07:00Bob vs. Barack<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC6A1W-qYVOGOM7wNy5q13gfPaFiFh_uUBNQBuMoE4XFF3MexpAYs0uvVqcG3kPsgQSEwpFlvUXUZMUzmEyCBraeA9lGmMkiB33px7TwKVYOELRGlEmzq0aBM5PMwM6wNPfHzK9udjiMdv/s1600-h/BOB.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC6A1W-qYVOGOM7wNy5q13gfPaFiFh_uUBNQBuMoE4XFF3MexpAYs0uvVqcG3kPsgQSEwpFlvUXUZMUzmEyCBraeA9lGmMkiB33px7TwKVYOELRGlEmzq0aBM5PMwM6wNPfHzK9udjiMdv/s200/BOB.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239542669757300338" border="0" /></a><br />I'm sitting here watching Good Morning America and I've never been one <span style="font-style: italic;">totally</span> into politics, but my husband is... and they just said something that caught my attention.<br /><br />I know that I should be better at watching McCain and Obama speeches, but honestly I'm just not. If Drew is watching something on line or on TV, most of the time I'll tune in too, but I would never be the one to go searching on line or look up TV times of important speeches. Not becasue I don't care... but becasue I now have a Husband who can fill me in on the majority of what's going on.<br /><br />Anyways, back to Good morning America. Diane Sawyer (who I happen to think is really cute) started talking about how lots of people are wondering if Obama is nothing more than a good actor. They played numerous tapes of him speaking with a teleprompter- he sounds incredible. Then they played tapes with him without a teleprompter-ridiculous. "Uh...um...uh...well uh...uh..."<br /><br />Now, I'm not saying I would be incredible without any kind of help from Stage... I know I wouldn't. I would probably be giggling because I'm so nervous and mix up my words and say things like, "I want to be Pwesident to that I can hewp people". But on a more serious note Obama... if you have important things and issues that you want to bring up and are so passionate about, how come you can't talk about the without someone feeding you your lines? is it becasue you don't know what you're talking about...?<br /><br />I have heard Obama say, "YES WE CAN!" numerous times... but apparently he CAN'T when he's off a teleprompter?<br /><br />Someone who I like a little bit better who says "YES WE CAN" and follows through would be Bob the Builder.anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-91440665709525947122008-08-26T16:16:00.000-07:002008-08-26T16:45:21.475-07:00Oh what's in a name...The past couple times that I have gotten on to blog, I have been bothered that my web address is annie<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">summers</span>@blogspot.com, not annie<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">petersen</span>@blogspot.com...<br /><br />So today I decided I needed to finally do something to change it. And when I say that I'm going to change it... I really mean that my husband, who is amazingly savvy at amazing design, is going to make me a fabulous new site. Lucky me that he's so cool and nice and likes to do that kind of thing.<br /><br />Anyways... stay posted. One of these days real soon I'll have a link to my new site!anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-69651874371550814702008-08-25T11:55:00.000-07:002008-08-25T12:26:32.831-07:00Goodbye Summer...Well... it's been a crazy summer for Drew and I... and I'm so glad that fall is just around the corner. Jackets, scarves and all things cold weather really excite me. Especially since this will be the first winter that I have ever had that actually <span style="font-style: italic;">feels</span> like winter. An eighty degree December will not be where I am this year. Nope... I will be in Louisville basking in the coziness of my little house eating chocolate chip cookies and sipping hot chocolate.<br /><br />I just don't think I ever 100 percent fit into the California mold, and I am totally OK with that. I know that not everyone does these things, but I'm not a fan of Christmas lights and ornaments on palm tree's, snowmen made out of sand, a fire in the fireplace when it's not cold enough outside for a fire... or pictures of surfing Santa's.<br /><br />Really... who started that Santa trend anyways? Santa lives in the North Pole. I'm sure he knows what a surfboard is, because I'm sure he has put a few under some trees... but I'm pretty sure that he doesn't know how to ride one. He's old... fat... and knowing how to drive a flying sleigh is a big enough accomplishment for him. Santa does not surf. He's not that compliant. He's always seen wearing the same thing and since about the 4th Century he's been in the same line of work. I'm just pretty sure that Santa likes his gig and isn't at all interested in becoming a surfer bum. But that's just my two cents.<br /><br />I'm sorry if I offended anyone who may have surfing Santa paraphernalia. I'm sure yours is great...anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-13705819005401248862008-06-03T12:35:00.000-07:002008-06-03T12:44:42.913-07:00Preschoolers know everything...Here is what I learned form them today:<br /><br />- Chips are really good for you.<br /><br />- The sun is green, but sometimes it looks yellow (I feel like I'm a bad teacher for my kids to be saying this stuff so seriously.)<br /><br />- Octopuses live in shells... and one particular octopus lives in a shell that is sitting on our bookshelf. Apparently I'm the only one that can't see it...<br /><br />- All you have to do to stop thunder and lighting is snap your fingers.<br /><br />- Strawberries live in Sophie's tummy.<br /><br />- Penguins can be superhero's too.<br /><br /><br />All I know is that it's a good thing they informed me. I really am not sure how I survived before I knew these important details about life.anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-64123421010639746382008-05-28T15:42:00.001-07:002008-05-28T16:22:14.678-07:00The shnozberries taste like shnozberries... no, not really.Today was my second day teaching preschool. And it was... crazy. I learned real quickly that fifteen little ones running around like a bunch of mad people, and not always using their listening ears, means that the perfect picture that I had painted in my mind isn't so realistic. <span style="font-style: italic;">Shoot. </span><br /><br />After nap time today we painted with what I told them was magic paint (it was just some jello, water, and paint powder... but it was fun becasue it smelled so good!) We were painting pictures of strawberries, limes, oranges, banana's, blueberries and grapes. Super fun.<br /><br />Then... I get the question I knew was coming- I had even prepped for how I was going to respond<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Andrew:</span> "Miss Annie... can we taste the magic paint? It smells good."<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me: </span>"No Andrew, we can't. Magic paint isn't supposed to go in your mouth. It's for paper only... it doesn't taste good, and it's not good for you."<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Andrew:</span> "Well I bet it would taste good."<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me: </span>"We're not eating the paint Andrew. Have you ever been allowed to eat paint?"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Andrew: </span>"No... but I-"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me: </span>"You're not eating paint... and nether is anyone else."<br /><br />Then Matthew, Andrew's neighbor, starts talking...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Matthew:</span> "Would you die for it?"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span> "Do you mean would eating the paint kill you?"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Matthew: </span>"Uh-huh..."<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span> "No, but it's not good for your mouth or your stomach, so we're not going to eat it."<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Matthew: </span>"Oh, ok."<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Annie: 2 Andrew & Matthew: 0</span><br /></div><br />Until I hear...<br /><br />"Miss Annie... Stephanie just ate some of the purple magic paint."<br /><br />Now, really... I should have known better. Not only is Stephanie's favorite color purple, she also loves grapes and will put anything in her mouth. Including the dirt on the bottom of her shoe (not sure why). So I walk over to the table and...<br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255);">..</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span> "Stephanie, did you eat some of the purple magic paint?"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Stephanie:</span> "Um..."<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">*silence*</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Stephanie:</span> "Um... yes I did."<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span> "Did it taste really gross?"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Stephanie:</span> "Um..."<br />*more silence*<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Stephanie: </span>"No...?" (she looked shocked, excited, and purple-due to the left overs on her face)<br /><br />I didn't really know what to say. Jell-o without the sugar would be so nasty. Part of me wanted her to keep eating it to see if she would turn into Violet from Willy Wonka (like a big blueberry-but in her case a big grape). But, becasue I'm the teacher and responsible for her well-being and because part of my job is to make sure that no one goes home looking like a big grape that someone could roll down the hallway, I had to say something. So I said the dumbest thing I could have said...<br /><br />"Really? I mean... of course it was gross. No one eat the paint."<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Introducing my life as a preschool teacher...</span><br /></div>anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-20323529124317648352008-05-22T08:53:00.000-07:002008-11-25T06:52:35.192-08:00I did it.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3BIEVt85V3OH0fAPJIUb9s85H1WGVD3uCTuiB1lGs14miNyDW7Yt4bGADBGFQN7Enh6AJiyS0JY8LNX8Ma-jJjdYoePSL5zQX2cYrYgZncFTSEMnJF9MKoAiYlHWlvD_RygHFkVNm6JWX/s1600-h/boring+brown+socks+jan+13+2007.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3BIEVt85V3OH0fAPJIUb9s85H1WGVD3uCTuiB1lGs14miNyDW7Yt4bGADBGFQN7Enh6AJiyS0JY8LNX8Ma-jJjdYoePSL5zQX2cYrYgZncFTSEMnJF9MKoAiYlHWlvD_RygHFkVNm6JWX/s200/boring+brown+socks+jan+13+2007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203236496817258642" border="0" /></a>Normally a title like this would be fitting if I did something great... maybe accomplished something that I never thought I would ever do like run a marathon, eat a hundred hot dogs, or train my cat to use the toilet. Unfortunately... what I did was just a matter of time and neglect.<br /><br />Today while I was doing the laundry one of Drew's dark brown socks accidentally got thrown in with a bunch of my whites... that I bleach. As much as I wish the story ended there, it doesn't. And, as much as I wish I could say that one little sock made it into the dryer happy and even more brown than before, I can't. I even wish that that I could say that one brown sock colored all my whites a nice beige color because I could just bleach them back again, but ... I can't.<br /><br />I pride myself on doing laundry. And, I know that sounds silly... but I do. I have a very specific way of doing it and until now it's gone just peachy...<br /><br />1. Let the water run<br />2. Put in soap while water is still running so that it gets mixed in equally<br />3. Put clothes in one by one to make sure that no darks go in with whites... and vise versa.<br /><br />Anyways... I noticed when I was putting everything into the dryer what had happened. I don't know how I noticed it coming out but not going in. It was like the sock was staring me right in the face saying, <span style="font-style: italic;">"Look. Just look at what you've done to me. What's you're plan now Laundry Woman?"</span><br /><br />Well... That one little brown sock is now a nice blend of brown, beige, and pink (not sure why pink...) tye-dyed (or should I say bleached) sock.<br /><br />Fancy that. If I were that sock I'd be stoked. Tye dye is awesome... but maybe not if your other half is still "normal" if you will.<br /><br />I hope that Drew can forgive me. We always have a hard time finding brown socks after I do the laundry... and now he's going to have one less pair. Unless, of course, he wants to try and start some kind of new trend. Which... I kind of doubt he will.<br /><br />** Disclaimer: The socks at the top of the page are not the actual socks before the accident. Drew would not wear funny socks like this. They look like elf socks.anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-63055590811699070332008-05-10T16:19:00.000-07:002008-05-10T16:52:35.435-07:00Dear Blake and Stephanie,<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1s7n1QynbgBqEWUaHTUA9cWdknLy0ZrNzNbUP623zow9WsC81GWQ0lzZrEqGXtdIhyphenhyphenxUXViKRENT1nLjZ04U2WdAWlzZPNWaFvSc8uiDCINgJjjU945iFfdwHyVxlCpKieuUOhjRWfQuL/s1600-h/IMG_4983.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1s7n1QynbgBqEWUaHTUA9cWdknLy0ZrNzNbUP623zow9WsC81GWQ0lzZrEqGXtdIhyphenhyphenxUXViKRENT1nLjZ04U2WdAWlzZPNWaFvSc8uiDCINgJjjU945iFfdwHyVxlCpKieuUOhjRWfQuL/s200/IMG_4983.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198901260535640178" border="0" /></a>Get excited. While we (Drew, Anna, Aubrey and I) were out tonight getting dinner, we stumbled across an incredible find. Dare I say the best new home gift anyone could ever hope to receive... seriously.<br /><br />In case you aren't convinced right now here are some excellent reasons why this gift should make you jump for joy, and why all of your friends that come over will be jealous of this amazing creation and ask you where you bought it.<br /><br />Reason #1: It's adorable<br />Reason #2: It reminded us of Blake<br />Reason #3: It's colorful so it could really go in any room of your house<br />Reason #4: It's very welcoming to new people who come into your home<br />Reason #5: It's an heirloom piece<br /><br />So there it is. We know that you are in suspense thinking "oh man... when am I going to get this? I am so excited." But I'm sorry... you will just have to wait until Friday.<br /><br />Love and warm wishes,<br />The Petersen and Anderson Familiesanniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-66398451109282314382008-04-23T12:36:00.000-07:002008-04-23T14:14:57.704-07:00I have never liked paradesIt's true. Not even the ones that I was in when I was little for whatever we had parades for, or the rose parade. Maybe that makes me unpatriotic... but I hope not.<br /><br />Well today... as I was sweeping the kitchen I noticed my cat sniffing around next to the trash can. I figured that she just smelled the remains of last nights chicken so I shoo'd her away. A few minutes later she's back in the same spot... so I walk over and look down to what she's looking at.<br /><br />ANTS. I <span style="font-style: italic;">hate</span> ants. I think that they are SO annoying how they fit into everything... even the things I think are really well closed up and impossible to get into unless you have the fingers to open the baggie or whatever. And nothing grosses me out more than thinking about nasty little ants crawling into our food and using their dirty hands to take it back to more dirty little nasty ant hands to eat... sick.<br /><br />Anyways, I thanked Beans for being the little detective that she is (yes, I do talk to my cat) and cleaned up all the ants. An hour later, I walked into the kitchen and saw a whole ant parade! WHAT? And it even had a couple other little creepy crawly bugs in it.<br /><br />I don't understand. I killed their friends... why would they want to come back? There was NOTHING on the floor for them. I made SURE of that when I saw the other ones earlier.<br /><br />Maybe I just need to train my cat to lick up all the bugs that she sees. Then again... you never know what an ant has been eating, and I don't want to feed my cat just anything. Plus, teaching beans to do something usually means showing her how to do it... and I am not about to start licking up ants.<br /><br />Anyways... I have never liked parades... especially bug parades.anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-44050236321336896592008-04-22T11:39:00.000-07:002008-04-23T14:16:50.650-07:00First things first...I realize, that for those of you who read my blog it has been more than a little while since I have written anything. But, instead of apologizing... since having a blog in now way promises it's readers that there will be daily updates, I will simply tell you that all updates on wedding stuff, marriage, living in Kentucky, and my insane cat... will be coming soon.<br /><br />NOW. Since <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.johnandanna05.com">Anna</a> (my new sister) tagged me... I have to respond to that first... I just think it's polite.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">1. </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Ten years ago I was.</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">.. </span>just starting my first year as a 7th grader. I knew no one at my school, I was known for a hideous over-sized Eeyore sweatshirt that I wore everywhere, I was just told that I needed braces, and I thought about running away daily because of all of those things.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">2. </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Things on my to do list today</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">... </span>paint the guest room, do some laundry, clean out our walk in closet so we can turn it into an office, get dinner ready for Drew when he gets home, and anything else that pop's up between those things. <span style="font-style: italic;">I know... my life is pretty exciting. You don't have to tell me that.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">3. </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Things I would do if I was suddenly a billionaire</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">... </span><br />- Pay off our house<br />- Go clothes shopping<br />- Buy another house out in Kentucky (preferably one across the street from us) so that when friends and family came to see us they would have their own privacy and place to stay... or just buy a big house so that everyone we know could have their own room when they came to stay with us!<br />- Open a camp for children with Downs Syndrome, give a chunk of money to our church's building fund.<br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;">4. </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Bad Habits</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">...<br /></span>- I pop my knuckles... and my thumbs... and sometimes my toes. <span style="font-style: italic;">Don't judge me...</span><br />- I'm a snacker. I eat little things all throughout the day and then when it comes time to eat a meal... I can't finish it.<br />- I bite my nails. Every once and a while I'll stop cold turkey and grow out my nails, thinking that this time I'm really quitting... then two weeks later I'm back at it. <span style="font-style: italic;">They need to come out with a patch for nail biters. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">5. </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Places I have lived</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">...</span><br />- Laguna Niguel, California (with my parents)<br />- Laguna Niguel, California (with Becky and Elizabeth- I know I really branched out huh?)<br />- Louisville, Kentucky (with my new husband. Hi Drew, I like you.)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">6. Jobs I have now or have had...</span><br />- Build-a-Bear Workshop: My first job ever... and my most embarrassing too.<br />- Blue Sky's Salon and Studio: I was a party manager for children's birthday parties. I loved it... until the management started getting shady... then I peaced out.<br />- Pottery Barn Kids: I was a floor set design manager. I worked crazy hours, but I <span style="font-style: italic;">loved</span> that job, and the discount wasn't bad either!<br />- J Crew: I was just a regular sales associate, but everyone I worked with was so much fun. The discount was amazing... but I never saw a paycheck becasue I spent it on clothes... it's a weakness.<br />- Being a wife: Not to copy Anna, but it's true. Being a wife is my favorite job yet! And... one day I will be a mommy... <span style="font-style: italic;">one day far Far FAR away from now. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">7. </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Things people don't know about me (quirky things about me)</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">... </span><br />- I can't sleep without my body pillow<br />- I'm deathly afraid of bugs... all shapes and sizes. ESPECIALLY grasshoppers <span style="font-style: italic;">(which, don't worry... we only have about a billion out here in Kentucky)<br />- </span>I can't stand a top sheet on my bed because I get tangled in it and then freak out... so I only use a duvet. Maybe that's gross... but I like it.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">8. </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Things that make my life superfabulous right now...</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span><br />- Being married<br />- Getting to move away from home and make a bunch of new friends<br />- Being able to decorate a whole new house<br />- Having family come out in a few weeks!!<br />- That I get to see Drew everyday. <span style="font-style: italic;">If that's too mushy for you... I'm sorry... grow up. </span><br /><br />I'm tagging my husband... because I'm pretty sure that he's the only one that still checks my blog. But, in case you're not my husband and you did just read this super long post... consider yourself tagged.anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-20775819741516732932008-03-02T21:45:00.000-08:002008-03-02T21:46:37.960-08:00a week from today...My name will be Annie <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Petersen</span>! <div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I'm so excited!</span></span></div>anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-29441987255670667662008-03-01T21:54:00.000-08:002008-03-02T08:27:22.744-08:00My cat Beans...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggHjg5leP_SD6sTNAEFag4VM9WhVp7AJkLx4mk3-hQqHofkHnqUHnGDE59iHo4H_nnDca6FvRYeaRCXJ38IHz3Qjr3Mhow1AgON09heJ_StbLGuYU0XP3gZHAVotiDwOTTdOJZQyMIYBKp/s1600-h/Photo+361.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggHjg5leP_SD6sTNAEFag4VM9WhVp7AJkLx4mk3-hQqHofkHnqUHnGDE59iHo4H_nnDca6FvRYeaRCXJ38IHz3Qjr3Mhow1AgON09heJ_StbLGuYU0XP3gZHAVotiDwOTTdOJZQyMIYBKp/s400/Photo+361.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173018920694814914" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">So... I just got a new kitten. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Her name is Beans (named after my best friend Becky-who I call Beans). And, she's the CUTEST. She's the easiest cat ever and is just so So SO cute. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I just love her. </div>anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-63317371526662262062008-03-01T21:49:00.000-08:002008-03-02T20:30:24.318-08:00No thank you.<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Last night Elizabeth and I went to get a test run of my hair and make-up for the wedding. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> The lady that was doing my make-up was a teacher at an estitition school, so I was sitting in front of a class while she explained everything that she did to her students. The girls in her class were watching very intently and every time the teacher would say, "Wow... that looks so great" they would all echo and say, "Oh yeah... totally." So of course I'm getting super excited to see what it looks like. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Then they let me look in the mirror. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">OH. MY. GOSH… AWFUL. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "> </span></span></i></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Thank </span></span><span style=""><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">goodness </span></i></span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">it wasn’t the day of the wedding.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Here's what started going through my head, in no particular order...</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">- EW.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">- Don't cry... don't cry...</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">- This is hideous</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">- I don't even recognize my face… I look like make-over Barbie… </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">from the 80’s</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">- If this happened on my wedding day Elizabeth would have to distract people by tap dancing on stage while I try to redo my make up… </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">- I'm never coming back here</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:16px;"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:13px;">Somehow the "professional" doing my make-up managed to make me look worse </span></span><span style=""><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:13px;">in</span></i></span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:13px;"> make up than when I walked into the room with no make up on at all. Not sure how that happens...</span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:16px;"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:13px;">One of the girls in the class saw my reaction of pure horror and says, “Oh, I know that you’re not used to a lot of make up… but it looks great and the first time that your fiancé sees you step out into the isle, you’ll see that tear roll out of his eye and fall down his face because he’s going to think you look so great.” I smiled to be polite and also because I didn’t have anything nice to say in response. In my head I’m thinking, “No, if Drew were to see me like this he wouldn’t cry. Oh no… he would run in the other direction as fast as he could to get away from the circus clown who killed his fiancé and then put on her wedding dress.”</span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:16px;"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:13px;">It was really… SO bad. I have lost all faith in people who do make up for a living. I’m just going to do it myself, and I’m </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:13px;">so</span></i></span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:13px;"> fine with that.</span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"> So, lessons learned...</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"> </span></span></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">- Don't always believe that the person doing your make-up has any clear understanding of what “looking great” is.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">- Don't ever wear a neon shade of lipstick with matching eye shadow</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:13px;">- Don't ever just have a "make-up artist" show up on the day of your wedding without a trial run… EVER!</span><br /></p> <!--EndFragment-->anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-28738586167455849142008-02-20T18:45:00.000-08:002008-02-20T19:08:32.402-08:00The Good, the bad, and the Kentucky.If you're still reading my blog... you deserve a hug. If the dates weren't posted on the blogs when I wrote them... I wouldn't even remember the last time that I blogged.<br /><br />Therefore... Maggie... you're awesome. Thanks for still checking my blog. Sorry I don't have time to blog more frequently.<br /><br />Anyways... as many of you know I'm moving to Kentucky. The day after the wedding Drew and I are packing up and headin' out. At first, I'm not going to lie, I was not excited about moving out to Kentucky. But, the more I think about it the more excited I get.<br /><br />Obviously I'm incredibly sad to be leaving a place that I have lived all 22 years of my life, and all of my friends and family that live here. But, i figure that since I am moving I need to be thinking about all the good things out there in Kentucky.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"> Here are some great things about Kentucky:</span><br /><br />- I get actual seasons! <span style="font-style: italic;">INCLUDING SNOW!</span><br />- I get to make more friends<br />- I get to explore a part of the country I really have never been before<br />- I will be stretching myself instead of staying comfortable in my little bubble<br />- I am going to be teaching summer school at an elementary school... and I am SO excited!<br /><br />and last but not least...<br /><br />- Drew lives there<br /><br />I'm really hoping that one day Drew and I will move closer to family and I have always wanted to live in Washington or Oregon... but right now that's a ways off in the future. So right now I'm just focusing on the good things in Kentucky, and packing my bags (and boxes!)anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-91109498043529562372008-01-15T22:01:00.000-08:002008-01-16T08:14:07.268-08:00Oh American Idol...I am <span style="font-style: italic;">convinced</span>, one hundred percent, that half the people who audition for American Idol are just randomly walking by, see a line, and decide to stand in it.... and the other half are just crazy. <span style="font-style: italic;">Seriously</span>.<br /><br />Every year I think to myself, "How can these people get more out of control?" and yet <span style="font-style: italic;">every year</span> the people who are auditioning out-do the weirdness of the year before.anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-3581610694494369102007-12-17T11:44:00.000-08:002007-12-17T12:05:16.761-08:00Roommate Christmas #3<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnNIZ3NW7R8RF0w9Ybb8tbTLhgbqoi51P13pY9tccVrOYisJWk_YjSMz98QDdO_gZf7dDNCnOiNQ0KeCpKeU_8ufqw2Ma2hWcfFzPyYj4QQA4ybAmwwjkdeZ_V8q3KFkDhfLF-Ysaj2fRJ/s1600-h/IMG_0825.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnNIZ3NW7R8RF0w9Ybb8tbTLhgbqoi51P13pY9tccVrOYisJWk_YjSMz98QDdO_gZf7dDNCnOiNQ0KeCpKeU_8ufqw2Ma2hWcfFzPyYj4QQA4ybAmwwjkdeZ_V8q3KFkDhfLF-Ysaj2fRJ/s400/IMG_0825.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145031115512544322" border="0" /></a><br />Pictures are worth a thousand words, typically, if it's just your average photo. This picture however, I would say is worth about a hundred thousand words.<br /><br />We bought some pretty Christmas dresses from the Salvation Army to take Christmas pictures in. Then, we were going to put them on a Christmas card to send out to our friends... this was put in the reject pile... but I just thought it was to good to not share.<br /><br />This picture is incredible because none of us had any idea what the others were doing. I love that Elizabeth is licking an ornament, I'm totally not even looking at the camera, and Becky looks mad.<br /><br />Pretty good. Pretty dang good.<br /><br />I'm so excited to be getting married, but on the same token so, SO sad that I won't be able to live with Becky and Elizabeth anymore. They are the best roommates ever!anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-79713401815246293452007-12-10T16:50:00.001-08:002007-12-10T17:08:18.443-08:00Monday's are my favorite<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSK47dpbXuYeGQ866THgomHbs2dEqMDLDvJ8b5m1pQnyaGTDOQKgn-TbU48HQJU9XYRs0rViUIKrAoZtsTzv_xE7PnNK44fw4mWvROPUlzuV7Qq_2_kqXaBBoO9yQWkujaH6qzPYV2_doR/s1600-h/IMG_4377.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSK47dpbXuYeGQ866THgomHbs2dEqMDLDvJ8b5m1pQnyaGTDOQKgn-TbU48HQJU9XYRs0rViUIKrAoZtsTzv_xE7PnNK44fw4mWvROPUlzuV7Qq_2_kqXaBBoO9yQWkujaH6qzPYV2_doR/s320/IMG_4377.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142515729968851634" border="0" /></a><br />Most people hate Mondays... I <span style="font-style: italic;">love</span> them. Not only is it my day off I also get to go to Disneyland with Becky, make dinner with the roommates and then either play a game or watch a movie with them... sometimes both! How could it get any better than that?<br /><br />I am so So SO blessed to live with two of my best friends!anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-17247939503802849722007-12-06T17:12:00.000-08:002007-12-10T16:49:14.208-08:00It makes me happy when skies are grey...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOlbRuH8OqG1ICUEnNKhg3v_PNqH0C3HPCQiBYYisUgtOuyHqFPXO5QT9dc1uEMFeingCiQrI5YYzhJ9d7gyDedu1cAniL41yaMJMdVx9Zg6FG4MI2rGuu5utZeMIIYzj-J3o_C8gMJaEm/s1600-h/cute+jacket.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOlbRuH8OqG1ICUEnNKhg3v_PNqH0C3HPCQiBYYisUgtOuyHqFPXO5QT9dc1uEMFeingCiQrI5YYzhJ9d7gyDedu1cAniL41yaMJMdVx9Zg6FG4MI2rGuu5utZeMIIYzj-J3o_C8gMJaEm/s200/cute+jacket.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142510949670251170" border="0" /></a><br />Becky and I did some Christmas shopping last night and every year when I am doing my Christmas shopping I always end up buying something for myself. I know that's not the point of Christmas shopping... but I felt like I could justify it.<br /><br />Since I will be moving to Kentucky (where they had snow flurries yesterday-something unheard of in Southern California) and I do not have a lot of warm jackets. And more importantly, I do not have a lot of <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">CUTE</span> warm jackets (something that will be ABSOLUTELY unnecessary when I live in Kentucky) I felt like the jacket I saw should come home with me, and then one day move out to Kentucky with me... <span style="font-style: italic;">so I bought it. </span><br /><br />Then today I woke up and put on my brand new jacket! Not very often when I wake up and put on a jacket do I get to wear it all day long... and today I did! I'm even still wearing it!<br /><br />I love cloudy cold days! And I am going to love Kentucky!anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079742057806377970.post-12122110211483269792007-12-04T17:05:00.000-08:002007-12-04T17:12:19.571-08:00Dear Kentucky,I like you.<br /><br />I don't know if I love you (yet), but I sure like you. I like that you actually have seasons, and I like that you are cold during December- it makes me feel like it really is about to be Christmas time. I like you you are so green, and I like that sometimes you snow. I like that everyone is so nice, and I really like the amazing people watching that you provide.<br /><br />Thanks for the nice stay and I'll see you again at the end of this month.<br /><br />Your friend,<br />Annieanniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08807108331615179128noreply@blogger.com1