Heaven… in the office at 3 p.m. = Girl Scout Samoas Cookies

They are so addicting, I’m about to order more to add to my 7-box collection hehe!

Buy them year-round here:  http://www.girlscoutcookies.org/

Subject: College Students – pretty funny!

Here’s a prime example of “Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus” offered by an English professor from the University of Colorado for an actual class assignment:

The professor told his class one day: “Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right.

As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story. You will e-mail your partner that paragraph and send another copy to me. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story and send it back, also sending another copy to me. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back-and-forth.

Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. There is to be absolutely NO talking outside of the e-mails and anything you wish to say must be written in the e-mail. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached.”

 The following was actually turned in by two of his English students:

Rebecca (PINK)

Bill (BLUE).

THE STORY:

(first paragraph by Rebecca)

At first, Laurie couldn’t decide which kind of tea she wanted. The

chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now

reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he

liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off

Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too

much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the

question.

(second paragraph by Bill )

Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now

in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the

neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had

spent one sweaty night over a  year ago. “A.S. Harris to Geostation 17,” he

said into his transgalactic communicator. ” Polar orbit established. No sign

of resistance so far…” But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam

flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship’s cargo bay. The

jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the

cockpit.

(Rebecca)

He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one

last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever

had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless

hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. “Congress Passes Law

Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel,” Laurie read in her newspaper

one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared

out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly

and carefree, with no newspaper to read, no television to distract her from

her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. “Why

must one lose one’s innocence to become a woman?” she pondered wistfully.

( Bill )

Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of

miles above the city, the Anu’udrian mothership launched the first of its

lithium fusion missiles. The dimwitted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the

Unilateral Aerospace disarmament Treaty through the congress had left Earth

a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to

destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the

Anu’udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to

pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly

initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the

atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine

headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam , felt the

inconceivably massive explosion,  which vaporized poor, stupid Laurie.

(Rebecca)

This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing

partner is a violent, chauvinistic semi-literate adolescent.

( Bill )

Yeah? Well, my writing partner is a self-centered tedious neurotic whose

attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. ” Oh, shall I

have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of F–KING TEA??? Oh no,

what am I to do? I’m such an air headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle

Steele novels!”

(Rebecca)

A$$h@le.

( Bill )

B*tch!

(Rebecca)

F*** YOU – YOU NEANDERTHAL!!

( Bill )

In your dreams, Ho. Go drink some tea.

(TEACHER)

A+ – I really liked this one.

Sent: March 17, 2009 to Angie’s Inbox

So I’ve been having dreams where my pets become superheroes and save my life. That or I’m in a hospital, bleedly profusely.

Last night, I had a dream where my mom, sister and I survived a deadly tsunami that wiped away our entire town… I just remember the waves pounding down on me and swimming up toward the light. I didn’t think I was going to make it. Then my stuffed polar bear, Pundee, came to life and I had to go save him from the bad pirates who kidnapped him.

Hospitals, blood, alpha pets and tsunamis have been a reoccurring theme lately. Hmmmmm…..

Faith is the “firm belief in something for which there is no proof,” according to Merriam-Webster’s Online Dictionary. Wikipedia defined it as “the confident belief or trust in the truth or trustworthiness of a person, idea, or thing.” I define it as unconditional love to an unseen, unheard, or untouched being and/or belief.

Faith is nonexistent to many people I know. It’s understandable, and logical. How can someone wholeheartedly trust something that’s invisible? It would be blind love to do so, and well, love makes people vulnerable. People have a hard time loving what’s sure and physically present – how can they love the unsure? And doing things blind? Well, that just has a bad stigma to it. Like going in blind in a hand of poker. How silly!

On the other side, believers may struggle holding on to their faith. I know I do (yes, I am a believer!). I am a devoted woman of faith, but at times, I can be led astray of what’s most important. Personally, I say that it’s unhealthier, and riskier, to be blinded by money, fame, success, material things, stepping on others to get ahead, etc., than it is to share a blind love with God. Before, when people claimed they “found” God, I had no idea what they were talking about. They sounded crazy! But then in high school, I “found” him too… but not in a way you normally find things under your bed or car seat or anything. It’s like, you find Him living inside you. The world isn’t hazy anymore. Things literally become clearer around you. It’s hard to explain. But your spirits are lifted and you don’t feel “blind” anymore, even though you never realized you were “blind” before.

I don’t have all the answers. Once again, I’m only 23. Ha ha. But a friend did forward me an email last night that reminded me why I continue to have faith in God, and the importance of holding onto that faith, no matter what difficulties I may be going through. I hope this helps some of you the way it helped me.

Fwd: The Foundation of Faith

Compiled by: David Wilkerson, Founding Pastor of Times Square Church in New York City

What foundation is your faith built upon? Scripture tells us faith comes by hearing, and that God’s Word gives us “spiritual ears,” enabling us to hear (see Romans 10:17). Well, here’s what the Bible says about the wilderness experiences in our lives:
 
·         “Let not the waterflood overflow me, neither let the deep swallow me up…Hear me, O Lord; for thy lovingkindness is good…hide not thy face from thy servant; for I am in trouble” (Psalm 69:15-17). Clearly waters of affliction flood the lives of the godly.
·         “For thou, O God, has proved us: thou hast tried us, as silver is tried. Thou broughtest us into the net; thou laidst affliction upon our loins…we went through fire and through water” (66:10-12). Who brings us into a net of afflictions? God himself does.
·         “Before I was afflicted I went astray: but now have I kept thy word…It is good for me that I have been afflicted; that I might learn thy statutes” (119:67, 71). These verses make it perfectly clear. It’s good for us—it even blesses us—to be afflicted.
 
Consider the Psalmist’s testimony: “I love the Lord, because he hath heard my voice and my supplications…. The sorrows of death compassed me, and the pains of hell gat hold upon me; I found trouble and sorrow. Then called I upon the name of the Lord; O Lord, I beseech thee, deliver my soul” (Psalm 116:1-4). Here was a faithful servant who loved God and had great faith. Yet he faced the sorrows of pain, trouble and death.
 
We find this theme throughout the Bible. God’s Word loudly declares that the path to faith is through the floods and fires: “Thy way is in the sea, and thy path in the great waters” (Psalm 77:19). “Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth…. I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert” (Isaiah 43:19). “When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee; when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee” (Isaiah 42:3). “For I the Lord thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, Fear not; I will help thee” (Isaiah 41:13).
 
This last verse holds an important key: In every wilderness we face, our Father is holding our hand. Yet only those who go through the wilderness get this hand of comfort. He outstretches it to those who are caught in raging rivers of trouble.

To subscribe to the devotional, please click the following link: Subscribe

You know how I know there’s a higher power at work?

The other morning, while I was packing up for work, I grabbed the usual from my kitchen counter: toasted bagel with vegetable cream cheese, peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch, an instant noodle cup for my mid-afternoon snack, and two Disney princess vitamin gummies (purple, preferably).

I packed a few unusual items that morning too – given the circumstances – which included the rest of my flu medicine, nasal spray (ew), and unopened carton of mango orange juice (!). But as I reached for the box of flu pills, out of nowhere, a band-aid fell out and landed on my counter. I looked around. There was no band-aid box or anything. Hmmm… Something told me I should pack this, too. I thought it through for just half a second and remembered, when I got these gut predictions in the past and never followed them, I would regret it. So, I packed the band-aid.

Later that morning, I was opening a rather large envelope… and BAM! The paper sliced through the skin beneath my middle finger nail. It was a pretty bad paper cut and (ding ding ding!) I remembered, I have that BAND-AID. Ha ha!

OK. Hear me out all the way. I never get paper cuts. It’s just one of those moments where you think, what the?? Kind of like déjà vu when you just know you dreamt a specific occurrence before, but you can’t explain it in words. And for all your logical people, try deciphering THAT one. Do you think I may be… psychic??

Hello reader,

I’ve neglected you! Consistency is going down as one of my 2010 resolutions. I’ve always had problems finishing stuff, or keeping stuff up. But I am pretty awesome at starting stuff  As a child, I started and quit tennis, piano, horseback riding, ice skating, softball, and probably other hobbies I can’t remember. I have five books I’m currently reading and have not finished. I learn piano pieces up to the chorus and don’t care for the rest. I rarely finish a song on my iPod from start to finish. Even my love life never seems to have a successful end.

Wow Ang. Typing all that up just made me realize: I am a quitter.

I’ve always been a big believer in trying and experiencing as much as possible… which may explain the quitting pattern. You gotta let go of something to try something new, right? I look at this as, me having one very well-rounded life! I still want to become an investigative reporter working overseas, and publish a book, write a movie script, join the Peace Corps, start a restaurant, adopt a child from Africa, deal in Vegas (but only for a few months), start an NGO, drive a truck cross country, stand on my head for more than five seconds… you know, save the world. But what’s the use if you never take the time to really master anything? Sure, you become one versatile human being. But the result is, your chances of making an impact in this world get smaller and smaller with the more activities you take on.

At age 23, I’m finally coming to this realization. It’s sad, but I know many 20 somethings (and 30 somethings!) who are struggling to find their paths right now. We were all told we can take on the world after graduation. “Follow your dreams” was our high school and college mantras. And we believed stupid Nike and their “Just Do It” campaign. But the post-grad world’s a lot bigger — and uglier — than we all thought, isn’t it? There isn’t a planned semester coming up, or a grade report we can show off or hide that tracks our progress. And now people seem to be telling us to be more realistic and responsible, and to be less curious and more careful. Is this what growing up entails? Adults tell us to follow our dreams for 20 years, and now all of a sudden they tell us they’re just kidding and now we should just settle with any job that gives us money and status?

I don’t know about you, but I think security is way overrated. And boring.

Now if you know me, you know I was the epitome of an overachiever and people pleaser in college. I double-majored, worked three jobs, started campus organizations ground-up, and helped the university start it’s first Asian American Studies Program. My hard head never let me admit to people when I struggled. I also always had a smile on my face. And I was determined to make a positive difference wherever I went. Overachievers have it very rough when they leave their perfect little world of academia. Naturally, most of us have problems with authority, just because we’re so pig-headed at the core. And, we think we’re capable of doing it all faster and better than the older folks. We’re egotistical, annoying sons of bitches. Admit it.

Hence… why most 20 somethings I know right now are either depressed, going through therapy, have no job, hate their jobs, hate their lives, etc. Most 20 somethings are confused and overwhelmed. Trust me, I know. I play “therapist” for many of my friends. And, I’ve been going through my share of growing pains as well. They can be confusing as hell. They don’t call it your “terrible twenties” for no reason.

I’ve experimented quite a bit since graduating from Syracuse. I continued with my overachieving and people-pleasing personality, but realized this leads to a dead-end road, and will turn you into a bitter and lonely human being. Especially if you put success and other people before your own happiness. That’s mistake #1 right there.

I also learned the importance of balance. This one’s so important. Finding a balance between everything — from work and rest, talking and listening, giving and taking, and from feeding your curiosity and being responsible. For instance, giving and taking is human and a healthier, happier way to live. I know many women (and few men) who feel guilty when they take, myself included. Yet we give, give, give all the time. It’s been interesting to see why we people pleasers are the ones who struggle the most with identity and finding happiness. As the great Buddha said, “You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.”

But it’s also important to always be true to yourself. I also went through a phase of wanting to fit the mold of the corporate culture in the company I joined right after graduation. I watched others and tried to act like they did, so I can be “accepted” and “liked.” If you keep this act long enough, it will begin to fool you. You are also at risk of losing some of your best personality traits. Don’t fall into this trap, no matter how much you want to prove yourself in your job. You don’t need everyone to like you. Focus on what matters — doing your job well and helping your boss to his/her job. Then you clock out and HAVE A LIFE. Tons of articles out there will tell you to act a certain way to get ahead in your career, and get others to like you on your work floor. I say, to hell with them. Be true to who you are, whoever that might be. As crazy as you may think you are, your company probably could use some color in their department. How many dull ass robots do you meet working for big old Corporate America? Just think about that. (Not calling all of my colleagues dull or anything! Oh the dangers of social media ha ha). But again, this one needs a reasonable balance too. I’m not saying to walk in the office tomorrow with a tongue ring and tube top exposing your new chest tattoo, or to punch your colleague next time they make you angry just cuz you “felt” like it. Still be professional and respectful when expressing your opinions, and yourself. You get the gist.

Unfortunately, I don’t have a grand finale of answers to everything. I’m no genius, so sorry! I’m still figuring things out. I’m only 23. Jeez. I don’t even know when my psycho babble turned into a self-help article! I just figured, I haven’t written in a while! And I’m in the mood to write down my thoughts. I hoped this helped a few of you, or was at least of some interest to some of you!

Maybe I should add “Write Memphis and Blue Ridge Parkway Entries” to my 2010 Resolutions, too. What do you think?

Angie

Sorry folks! I owe everyone a finale entry and a Day 7 entry on Memphis! I started the new job this week and am moving into my new place in Arlington, VA. Exciting stuff, huh? Hah… to be honest I just need a day or two to rest up. Life has been nuts lately, as you can probably tell.

I promise all of you a great post to come… please stay tuned. Just wanted to let everyone know I arrived in Reston, VA and am alive and well. FYI people are super weird at the Hyatt Suites here too!! Ah, I’ll save it for my next posting.

Be in touch,

Ang

I’m in a Holiday Inn in Roanoke, Virginia now, three hours from my final destination. (whoohoo!!!)

So I’ll share something interesting with you today. Now I am the last person to use a blog as a venting tool, but I think you’ll find this story worth reading. My apologies for the lack of visuals! I didn’t take any photos of the events as they occurred. But please try to read it all the way through!

Here goes!

I was at the height of all frustrations last night. For some reason, one by one, EVERY little thing started going wrong. This series of unfortunate events began as soon as I walked into this Holiday Inn.

First off, it took forever to check in. And I mean FOREVER. There was a family ahead of me complaining about something or other about some wedding and  some room to the clerk, and only one clerk was supposedly on duty. That clerk also moved slower than a freakin snail. The kids were adorable, though.

Meanwhile, dangling from my shoulders were my purse; my laptop bag filled with my work laptop, my macbook pro, all my chargers for laptops, phones, camera batteries, etc.; my clothes and toiletries bag; and my Nikon d40 camera.

All after another 7 hour drive. Yes, my patience was wearing thin.

I end up standing there for a good five minutes (which is long in hotel check-in world) and then retreated for the couch, while keeping an eye on the front desk. Finally after lots of feet tapping and pondering whether or not I should walk to the Marriott next door, the family moved on and it was my turn.

(FYI, the moral of this story is to never, ever go to this Holiday Inn. You’ll see why.)

“What are your rates? Do you offer corporate and/or AAA discounts?” This is the line I rehearsed at every hotel check–in desk on my trip.

“It’s $109/night,” she replied.

Impossible, I thought. For a Holiday Inn in Roanoke, VA? SO I repeat myself. “That’s with a AAA discount?”

“Oh. AAA. I can get you a room for $97.”

My brain pauses and just tells myself the woman is probably just really tired like me. Or just incompetent. Who knows. I agree to the new price. Now all I can do is give her my credit card and ID, and stand and wait.

“The system appears to be down,” she said in a slow, monotone voice. I scrunch my forehead signaling for elaboration. What do you mean the system is down?

“Um. You seeee….. the systems is dowwwwn….. so I can’t sign you in. Um. (looks around) Here, I’ll give you the key. Someone will be up to your room soon so you can sign stuff.”

Someone will be up in my room? Lady, I just drove for seven hours. I don’t want anyone coming into my room unless it’s room service with a three-course meal, chocolate cake and a glass of Pinot Noir. Of course I don’t say any of this. My sweet self just smiles, nods and thanks her for the keys and for her help. I know, I need to work on embracing my inner bitch, as Robin Meade puts it. Who knows, one day when I’m ready, I’ll go public with that other me.

“Can I have my credit card back?” I ask the clerk.

“Oh. Um. Wow. Here,” she hands me back my card, shaking her head.

So I get to my room. Of course, she put me RIGHT next to the elevator on the 5th floor. I don’t mean just one or two doors across. I mean, you can hear people ringing and dinging all day and night. I sigh and just pray it’ll be a quiet night.

Fifteen minutes later, hotel staff came to my room so I can sign my check-in papers. I know, GHE-TTO. Anyway, I greet him with a warm smile as he hands me a sheet of paper marked with X’s on where I need to sign. I look up for a pen. He’s slouching, looking around the hallway with this annoying smirk on his face, and can’t seem to keep his feet still. Maybe he suffers from ADD like me, although mine is self-diagnosed.

“Do you have a pen?” I ask.

“There should be a pen in your room,” he says rudely, as if it were that obvious I should have grabbed the pen before opening the door for this dodohead.

By this point I’m still patient, sweet little Angie. I say, “Oh OK!” and run to grab my hotel-provided pen and run back to sign the paper that I should have been given at check-in which should have happened faster than it should. It gets better.

Then I realize, I’m REALLY hungry. I didn’t eat since lunch! And lunch was only french fries because Burger King gave me a chicken sandwich with rotten cheese (or something was rotting in there) and I got a stomachache from taking one bite of it. So obviously I couldn’t eat that!

I pick up the phone for room service. But the phone’s room service button doesn’t work. So I call the universal front desk number, “0″, and get connected to who else but my favorite lady of the night.

“Hello. What’s the number to room service?” I ask again in my sweet voice which even began to annoy me by that point.

“Um. Room service’s number is Room Service?” she says super rudely.

I imagined myself running down the stairs and strangling her (sorry Mom! I didn’t mean that. I’m just venting!) How could hotel staff me this rude! So I ask to be connected to Room Service, and again I am still nice to this b. She does one thing right and connects me.

Then I reach their voicemail. Room service has a voicemail? They say they will call me right back. So I leave a message with my name and room number, and hang up.

I then log onto Hotels.com to book my hotel for the next week. But for some reason, the site wasn’t working and it wasn’t letting me book my hotel. Then facebook’s site stopped loading too. Can this hotel do anything right?

Then I get a call from room service. Thank THE LORD.

I tell her what I want. I want the chicken pasta and a glass of tap water.

“I’m so sorry ma’am,” she says. ”That will take a very long time because I just received an order of $160 from another room and our grill is full.”

“Is there ANYTHING you can make for me that won’t take 45 minutes to prepare?” I plead. I’m starved. I’m desperate. I’ll even eat blocks of cheese at this point and I’m lactose intolerant.

“I’m really sorry ma’am.” She sounded frazzled. I felt bad. I thought back to my old restaurant days when I screwed up a large delivery order and had to deal with unhappy customers on the phone. It’s not pleasant.

So I didn’t place the order and called a local Chinese restaurant instead. It was located several blocks away from the hotel. And again! The worker there was rude also! Maybe it’s just Roanoke, VA people? anyway, after placing the order he told me it would take 45 minutes to deliver. I tell him that’s a very long time and wonder why it will take 45 minutes to delivery fast-food, probably already pre-made Chinese food to hotel a few blocks away.

So I cancel my order and just decide to go on a vending machine search. I couldn’t find one and had to go back to my lady at the front desk who then directed me to the 2nd or 4th floors.

My mouth was disgustingly parched by this point and I stared into the chocolate bars and bags of chips in the machine and frowned. I don’t want any of that. I need protein. I need real food. I need… WATER.

So I turn around and slide my dollars into the beverage machine. But it wouldn’t take my dollars. Then I realize the stupid machine needed exact change to work, and all I had were dollars. Lucky for me, there was another beverage machine right behind it. But the red light was on that too. It was broken! Again I asked myself, does anything in this hotel work??

I go back to my room and by now it’s 10: 20 p.m. I’m dizzy with hunger and just gave up. I called room service back and placed an order for mushroom soup, pasta marinara with chicken, and most importantly — a glass of tap water.

I ran to my door when I heard a knock. Ah. There was my gourmet meal of the night. Finally.

Then I tasted the soup. Believe me when I say it was the worst soup I ever had in my life. It tasted like you were just drinking heavy cream straight out of the carton.

Then I tasted my pasta. The spaghetti was so overcooked I didn’t even need to bite it before swallowing. It just went straight down.

And they forgot my tap water.

I shook my head and just forced myself to breathe before I really lost it. Then I got up to go to the bathroom and tripped over all the wires of my chargers and almost fell flat on my face.

That was when all hell broke loose. That was also when my inner bitch started revealing herself. I actually jumped up and down screaming (somewhat silently), waving my hands ridiculously in the air. Oh you would have loved it.

I ended up eating the rest of that horrible pasta. Yup, that’s how hungry I was. And there’s nothing worse than getting full off of terrible food!

So what did we learn today, class? Never. Ever. EVER. Go to this Holiday Inn.

-Angie

P.S. The only reason I wanted to go to a Holiday Inn was so I can say I went to a “Hotel Motel Holiday Inn!” I guess that wasn’t enough justification for God and he wanted me to have an ughwefrjwoifjaf kind of night. hahahha. Sigh, I can laugh about it the next morning but let me tell you, I was NOT laughing last night.

Food for thought:

Isn’t it strange how some nights, everything can go wrong at once?