I remember the very first time I came across the word "photographer" in text. I'd heard the word, and I knew what a photographer was, but I had never seen it written down. I was in the third grade, and I was reading something aloud to my mom when I came across it. I pronounced it as "photo-graph-er" making it sound like the words that it is comprised of.
My mom said, "No, that's photographer, not photo-graph-er." I am not exactly sure why, but the pronunciation of this word made me irrevocably angry. (Well, actually, I was probably angry because I considered reading my forte and I didn't like to be wrong.)
"Well," I said, "it's the word photo and the word graph with 'er' at the end, it should be photo-graph-er."
She responded with, "You wouldn't say 'lack' for 'lake,' would you? That's just how it's pronounced." This only pissed me off more, because who would pronounce lake as lack? The logistics were totally different.
To this day, whenever I come across the word photographer in any text, I can't help but hold a grudge against it.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
The Ellie Wriggle
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Concerns for Old Lady Jackie
After recently slipping and falling out of the shower where I proceeded to hit my head on the toilet and thoroughly bang my knee up on the bathroom floor, I've given considerate thought to my future well-being as an elderly woman. The first thing that popped into my mind after this incident was: Good thing I'm not old, or else I would've been like one of those elderly people you see in those Life Call commercials where there's an old person lying on the floor saying "I've fallen and I can't get up." Don't know what I'm talking about? Check this out:
I've been thinking about the kind of old person I will most likely be, considering rapidly deteriorating bone mass and my history of falling down, my outcome looks bleak. Let's look over my long history of utter clumsiness and gracelessness:
It all begins with age 3, where my earliest memories revolve around moments of my lack of coordination. I fell into a pool, where I surely would've drowned, if some stranger hadn't jumped in to save me. Then there was the time I was at the park, and I climbed the ladder to the slide all the way to the top, only to somehow manage to topple down, face first into the sand below. Well, one might argue, I was three years old, of course there are going to be accidents like this. Let's proceed...
In middle school, during a relay race, I fell down on the track during the district finals. Now, in all fairness, this one wasn't really my fault. Anyone who has a knowledge of baton transferring knows there's an improper and a proper way to do it, and it just so happened that the girl behind me transferred the baton the improper way, leading to my fall in front of hundreds. I got back up and finished the race, but the second I crossed the finish line I broke down and started bawling from sheer embarrassment. Oh, poor middle school Jackie, how were you to know there were (are) so many more future public falls coming your way? This one, at least, wasn't my fault. I can't say that for the others.
Next, my very first day in high school, during Freshman orientation, I somehow managed to fall between the bleachers. To make it more embarrassing, this was right in front of the senior guys. One of them noticed my fall and asked, "Oh, man. Are you okay?" In which I meekly nodded my head and hid my face for the rest of the orientation.
Still freshman year in high school: One day after school got out, I was walking across the campus to where my brother would pick me up from school, when I tripped over a log that anyone could see a mile away (including me, but somehow my brain telling my foot to step over the log was lost somewhere in my synapses). I quickly scrambled back to an upright position, placed my hands on either side of my face to avoid the looks of the rest of the student body, and practically ran to my brother's truck. While heading to his truck (I would only look straight ahead of me) I could see right into my brother's windshield where he was pointing and laughing at me. Thanks, brother.
Sophomore year in high school: I participated in track during high school. Strange to think I would do this since running relies on good balance, but run I did. During regionals, I raced in the 100 meter dash. Who knows how I did this, but I managed to trip over nothing but my own two feet during the race. There, in front of the entire county, I fell down in a very public way. I got up and finished the race, where people gathered around me to ask if I was okay. I was embarrassed, but otherwise I thought I was fine. This was until I looked down at my leg, where the entire right side of my shin was skinned, leaving raw nerves exposed. This lead to my leg scabbing up in a very unattractive way, with tons of little leg hairs that I couldn't shave poking out of the scab for months. To this day, if you look closely enough, that part of my shin is a little discolored from the rest of my leg.
Senior year in high school: I told my parents I was going out for a run. I put on my Nike running pants and headed off to the soccer field where I planned on running some laps. It had rained a couple days before, so the field had some muddy parts. Wouldn't you know I slipped on the grass and slid right into a very muddy patch. Luckily, there wasn't anyone to witness this, but the most humiliating part was coming back home. I remember walking through the door, entirely covered in mud, hoping my parents wouldn't notice. My dad looked at me, took in my appearance, and asked what happened. I told him I slipped and fell at the field. He shook his head and laughed, and said something to the effect of "I should've known."
Still senior year in high school: I fell down some stairs at a party. It caused quite a commotion. I blamed it on the heels/drinks, but really, I just fell down the stairs. Plain as that.
A couple years ago, I was running around my house getting ready for work. I was wearing pantyhose and I hadn't put my shoes on yet, so my feet were slipping around on our hardwood floor. I was running down the hallway, when I lost control and slid across the floor right into the doorway. I hit my knee HARD. I remember writhing on the floor in pain, holding back tears. I was holding my knee and rocking back and forth while my boyfriend sleepily asked what the commotion was all about as my two dogs got right in my face, seeming to ask me if I was okay. I kid you not, I had a bruise on my knee for an entire year. I swear! I'm not making this up. To this date, it's the longest running bruise I've ever had. And I've had quite a few.
There's a decline in accidents, but that's more to the fact that I've become less and less active since high school. I'm sure there's been many more in my life, but these are the ones that stand out to me. As you can see, I think I need to worry for my older self. I should probably invest in Life Call.
I've been thinking about the kind of old person I will most likely be, considering rapidly deteriorating bone mass and my history of falling down, my outcome looks bleak. Let's look over my long history of utter clumsiness and gracelessness:
It all begins with age 3, where my earliest memories revolve around moments of my lack of coordination. I fell into a pool, where I surely would've drowned, if some stranger hadn't jumped in to save me. Then there was the time I was at the park, and I climbed the ladder to the slide all the way to the top, only to somehow manage to topple down, face first into the sand below. Well, one might argue, I was three years old, of course there are going to be accidents like this. Let's proceed...
In middle school, during a relay race, I fell down on the track during the district finals. Now, in all fairness, this one wasn't really my fault. Anyone who has a knowledge of baton transferring knows there's an improper and a proper way to do it, and it just so happened that the girl behind me transferred the baton the improper way, leading to my fall in front of hundreds. I got back up and finished the race, but the second I crossed the finish line I broke down and started bawling from sheer embarrassment. Oh, poor middle school Jackie, how were you to know there were (are) so many more future public falls coming your way? This one, at least, wasn't my fault. I can't say that for the others.
Next, my very first day in high school, during Freshman orientation, I somehow managed to fall between the bleachers. To make it more embarrassing, this was right in front of the senior guys. One of them noticed my fall and asked, "Oh, man. Are you okay?" In which I meekly nodded my head and hid my face for the rest of the orientation.
Still freshman year in high school: One day after school got out, I was walking across the campus to where my brother would pick me up from school, when I tripped over a log that anyone could see a mile away (including me, but somehow my brain telling my foot to step over the log was lost somewhere in my synapses). I quickly scrambled back to an upright position, placed my hands on either side of my face to avoid the looks of the rest of the student body, and practically ran to my brother's truck. While heading to his truck (I would only look straight ahead of me) I could see right into my brother's windshield where he was pointing and laughing at me. Thanks, brother.
Sophomore year in high school: I participated in track during high school. Strange to think I would do this since running relies on good balance, but run I did. During regionals, I raced in the 100 meter dash. Who knows how I did this, but I managed to trip over nothing but my own two feet during the race. There, in front of the entire county, I fell down in a very public way. I got up and finished the race, where people gathered around me to ask if I was okay. I was embarrassed, but otherwise I thought I was fine. This was until I looked down at my leg, where the entire right side of my shin was skinned, leaving raw nerves exposed. This lead to my leg scabbing up in a very unattractive way, with tons of little leg hairs that I couldn't shave poking out of the scab for months. To this day, if you look closely enough, that part of my shin is a little discolored from the rest of my leg.
Senior year in high school: I told my parents I was going out for a run. I put on my Nike running pants and headed off to the soccer field where I planned on running some laps. It had rained a couple days before, so the field had some muddy parts. Wouldn't you know I slipped on the grass and slid right into a very muddy patch. Luckily, there wasn't anyone to witness this, but the most humiliating part was coming back home. I remember walking through the door, entirely covered in mud, hoping my parents wouldn't notice. My dad looked at me, took in my appearance, and asked what happened. I told him I slipped and fell at the field. He shook his head and laughed, and said something to the effect of "I should've known."
Still senior year in high school: I fell down some stairs at a party. It caused quite a commotion. I blamed it on the heels/drinks, but really, I just fell down the stairs. Plain as that.
A couple years ago, I was running around my house getting ready for work. I was wearing pantyhose and I hadn't put my shoes on yet, so my feet were slipping around on our hardwood floor. I was running down the hallway, when I lost control and slid across the floor right into the doorway. I hit my knee HARD. I remember writhing on the floor in pain, holding back tears. I was holding my knee and rocking back and forth while my boyfriend sleepily asked what the commotion was all about as my two dogs got right in my face, seeming to ask me if I was okay. I kid you not, I had a bruise on my knee for an entire year. I swear! I'm not making this up. To this date, it's the longest running bruise I've ever had. And I've had quite a few.
There's a decline in accidents, but that's more to the fact that I've become less and less active since high school. I'm sure there's been many more in my life, but these are the ones that stand out to me. As you can see, I think I need to worry for my older self. I should probably invest in Life Call.
Monday, April 19, 2010
A Doggie Makeover:
Before:
After:
Ellie had a grooming today, and it always surprises me how different she looks when all of her hair is chopped off. Boy, was she mad about being left at the groomers, though. When she got home two hours later, she sulked in the corner for a good 30 minutes before deciding to forgive us.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
My Beef with Colorado
I moved to Colorado a few months ago from California, and so far I don't really have any strong opinions about the state. I haven't exactly fallen in love with it here, but I don't dislike it, either. I've maintained a fairly neutral disposition, with the exception of a few grievances. Here is my short list of:
"The things about Colorado that kind of suck"
Numero uno: There's no In-N-Out. That is a pretty big mark against Colorado, right there. After having an In-N-Out restaurant literally a few blocks away from my house in California, I came to depend on my animal-style cheeseburger at least once a week. Imagine my horror when I settled into Colorado and discovered the closest In-N-Out was 534 miles away. (That is entirely accurate, I map-quested it.) What a giant burger bummer.
Numero dos: The state of Colorado makes recycling way too difficult. In California, the city provided me a bin to put my recycling in, and would come and pick it up along with my trash. If you did recycle, they would give a credit on your next trash bill. In Colorado, you have to pay for the city to come pick up your recycling and they don't provide a bin. I didn't want to do that, so I saved all of my recycling, hauled giant bags of glass, plastic, and aluminum into my car, located the closest recycling service, and drove there to do my good deed for the day. When I got there and I started unloading my giant bags of noisy, clinking, glassy goods, the worker informed me that they only accepted aluminum. When I asked what I was supposed to do with my glass and plastic, I received a shrug in response. So I headed back home with my unwanted bottles and did a search on the internet to find a recycling center that did accept glass and plastic. I found most of them don't, but I did find one in downtown Denver that did. So I headed off to downtown with my trusty bags in tow, only to find that this particular center required $20 just to park in their facility to unload your recycling. Well, forget that! I'm trying to do my part in keeping our Earth clean, and instead of the state making it easy to recycle, it's one giant pain in the ass. California 2 Colorado 0.
Numero tres (and the last one on the list): This is in regards to legislature in Colorado pertaining to meat. I watched the documentary Food Inc. a couple weeks ago, and it mentioned that Colorado has a law in which it is illegal to talk about the quality of meat here. Well, this made me curious, so I decided to do a little research into this matter. To be completely honest, I haven't been able to find out much. The law is called Colorado's Food Disparagement Law and it is a CRIMINAL statute. (I don't know much about the law, really, but the fact that Colorado makes this a criminal offense instead of a civil infraction is pretty crazy, I think.) This is the law written out:
COLO. REV. STAT. ANN. (Criminal) Sect. 35-31-101
sect. 35-31-101. Destruction of food prohibited
It is unlawful for any person, firm, partnership, association, or corporation or any servant, agent, employee, or officer thereof to destroy or cause to be destroyed, or to permit to decay or to become unfit for use or consumption, or to take, send, or cause to be transported out of this state so to be destroyed or permitted to decay, or knowingly to make any materially false statement, for the purpose of maintaining prices or establishing higher prices for the same, or for the purpose of limiting or diminishing the quantity thereof available for market, or for the purpose of procuring, or aiding in procuring, or establishing, or maintaining a monopoly in such articles or products, or for the purpose of in any manner restraining trade, any fruits, vegetables, grain, meats, or other articles or products ordinarily grown, raised, produced, or used in any manner or to any extent as food for human beings or for domestic animals.
Now, what this means, I'm not exactly sure. The term "materially false statement" in regards to your food seems fairly subjective, don't you think? According to the documentary I watched, criticizing the quality of your food (especially beef) or the way that cattle is raised or fed, or by saying anything that the beef industry doesn't like, you can face criminal charges. I have trouble deciphering whether or not that is the case when reading that legal jargon, but if I can really get in trouble with the law for criticizing or questioning the food that goes into my body, that is absolutely ridiculous. That's an infringement of my first amendment rights, and that law should be abolished. If anyone knows more about this, I would love to hear about it. Let me know!
And that is "The things about Colorado that kind of suck" list.
"The things about Colorado that kind of suck"
Numero uno: There's no In-N-Out. That is a pretty big mark against Colorado, right there. After having an In-N-Out restaurant literally a few blocks away from my house in California, I came to depend on my animal-style cheeseburger at least once a week. Imagine my horror when I settled into Colorado and discovered the closest In-N-Out was 534 miles away. (That is entirely accurate, I map-quested it.) What a giant burger bummer.
Numero dos: The state of Colorado makes recycling way too difficult. In California, the city provided me a bin to put my recycling in, and would come and pick it up along with my trash. If you did recycle, they would give a credit on your next trash bill. In Colorado, you have to pay for the city to come pick up your recycling and they don't provide a bin. I didn't want to do that, so I saved all of my recycling, hauled giant bags of glass, plastic, and aluminum into my car, located the closest recycling service, and drove there to do my good deed for the day. When I got there and I started unloading my giant bags of noisy, clinking, glassy goods, the worker informed me that they only accepted aluminum. When I asked what I was supposed to do with my glass and plastic, I received a shrug in response. So I headed back home with my unwanted bottles and did a search on the internet to find a recycling center that did accept glass and plastic. I found most of them don't, but I did find one in downtown Denver that did. So I headed off to downtown with my trusty bags in tow, only to find that this particular center required $20 just to park in their facility to unload your recycling. Well, forget that! I'm trying to do my part in keeping our Earth clean, and instead of the state making it easy to recycle, it's one giant pain in the ass. California 2 Colorado 0.
Numero tres (and the last one on the list): This is in regards to legislature in Colorado pertaining to meat. I watched the documentary Food Inc. a couple weeks ago, and it mentioned that Colorado has a law in which it is illegal to talk about the quality of meat here. Well, this made me curious, so I decided to do a little research into this matter. To be completely honest, I haven't been able to find out much. The law is called Colorado's Food Disparagement Law and it is a CRIMINAL statute. (I don't know much about the law, really, but the fact that Colorado makes this a criminal offense instead of a civil infraction is pretty crazy, I think.) This is the law written out:
COLO. REV. STAT. ANN. (Criminal) Sect. 35-31-101
sect. 35-31-101. Destruction of food prohibited
It is unlawful for any person, firm, partnership, association, or corporation or any servant, agent, employee, or officer thereof to destroy or cause to be destroyed, or to permit to decay or to become unfit for use or consumption, or to take, send, or cause to be transported out of this state so to be destroyed or permitted to decay, or knowingly to make any materially false statement, for the purpose of maintaining prices or establishing higher prices for the same, or for the purpose of limiting or diminishing the quantity thereof available for market, or for the purpose of procuring, or aiding in procuring, or establishing, or maintaining a monopoly in such articles or products, or for the purpose of in any manner restraining trade, any fruits, vegetables, grain, meats, or other articles or products ordinarily grown, raised, produced, or used in any manner or to any extent as food for human beings or for domestic animals.
Now, what this means, I'm not exactly sure. The term "materially false statement" in regards to your food seems fairly subjective, don't you think? According to the documentary I watched, criticizing the quality of your food (especially beef) or the way that cattle is raised or fed, or by saying anything that the beef industry doesn't like, you can face criminal charges. I have trouble deciphering whether or not that is the case when reading that legal jargon, but if I can really get in trouble with the law for criticizing or questioning the food that goes into my body, that is absolutely ridiculous. That's an infringement of my first amendment rights, and that law should be abolished. If anyone knows more about this, I would love to hear about it. Let me know!
And that is "The things about Colorado that kind of suck" list.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Breaking the Ice
This being my first blog post, I feel a need to provide an explanation of what I will be blogging about. When browsing through other blogs, I’ve come to notice that many of them have a theme - whether it be about knitting creations, vegan lifestyles, fashion moguls, etc. I will have no such theme. Most of this content will be trivial, day-to-day observations. Think Seinfeld, but I wouldn’t dare say I am anywhere close to being that funny. However, every once in a while I might feel the need to argue the case of a serious matter I find important, but mostly, I stick with the comically mundane. And now a little snippet that I found amusing:
A few days ago, I was told this little anecdote I would like to share. Someone I know works in retail, and their store has a gazebo on display with a net surrounding it, hoping to create a certain ambiance to entice customers into a spending spree, I'm sure. An older gentleman asked them to help him find the gazebo in the store, and he was led to the appropriate aisle where they handed the gentleman the box. The older customer looked at the box and asked if the net came with it. They told him he would have to purchase that separately, and the gentleman got really annoyed and said: “Damn it! They’re always making me choose between a shit and a fart!”
What this means, I’m not exactly sure, but I couldn’t help but laugh when I heard it.
A few days ago, I was told this little anecdote I would like to share. Someone I know works in retail, and their store has a gazebo on display with a net surrounding it, hoping to create a certain ambiance to entice customers into a spending spree, I'm sure. An older gentleman asked them to help him find the gazebo in the store, and he was led to the appropriate aisle where they handed the gentleman the box. The older customer looked at the box and asked if the net came with it. They told him he would have to purchase that separately, and the gentleman got really annoyed and said: “Damn it! They’re always making me choose between a shit and a fart!”
What this means, I’m not exactly sure, but I couldn’t help but laugh when I heard it.
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