Fill this out about your YEARS of high school! The longer ago it was, the more fun the answers will be.
1. Who was your best friend?
Eh, I've always hated this question. I didn't really have a best friend in high school.
2. What sports did you play?
None, but I was the manager for basketball and volleyball. It was a way to get involved without actually having to have athletic talent.
3. What kind of car did you drive?
Silver 1983 Celica...still my favorite car.
4. It's Friday night, where were you?
Probably working.
5. Were you a party animal?
No.
6. Were you considered a flirt?
No
7. Ever skip school?
Yes
8. Were you a nerd?
I was not particularly socially well-adjusted, let's just say that.
9. Did you get suspended/expelled?
No
10. Can you sing the fight song?
Did we even have a fight song?
11. Who was your favorite teacher?
Mr. Gault. Or Mr. Shue.
12. Favorite class?
English or Social Studies, depending on the year.
13. What was your school's full name?
Spring Grove Area Senior High School
14. School mascot?
We were the Rockets. And the Rockettes.
15. Did you go to Prom?
Yes
16. If you could go back and do it over, would you?
I think if I did, I would have a much better time of it given the shifts in my personality. But really, no.
17. What do you remember most about graduation?
There was a beach ball that got confiscated.
18. Who was your high school sweetheart?
I only dated one guy in high school, and I wouldn't call him my sweetheart. Honestly, I don't think I even liked him all that much.
19. Where were you on senior skip day?
I don't remember. I probably just stayed in bed all day.
20. Did you have a job your Senior year?
I worked at a movie theater in Hanover, following a long family tradition.
21. Where did you go most often for lunch?
We weren't allowed to leave campus, so the cafeteria.
22. Have you gained weight since then?
Yes
23. What did you do after graduation?
Went to college. Got a degree. Got a job. Hate the job. Back in college.
24. When did you graduate?
1996
25. Who was your Senior prom date?
I went with a group of friends.
26. Are you going to your 10yr class reunion?
It was this past summer, and I missed it because I was in Ireland.
27. Who was your home room teacher?
Hmm. Freshman - Mr. Moore; Sophomore - the art teacher, whose name I can't remember--Mr. Waugh, maybe?; Junior - Mr. Gault; Senior - Mr. Black.
28. Who will repost this after you? Kristin, probably.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Friday, January 26, 2007
What century are we living in again?
Today's Carolyn Hax column quite frankly made me want to vomit. It is not her advice that I object to--in fact I think she answered the question correctly for once. It's the fact that the question was asked at all that makes me want to scream.
The topic is the "tradition" of asking a woman's father for permission to marry her. Don't get me wrong--I love my Dad, and I respect his opinion a great deal. But if any man is ever stupid enough to ask his permission to propose to me, my answer will be no. I have no idea what Dad would say in such a situation--my guess is that he would be fairly bewildered at being asked. I would hope he would be fairly bewildered at being asked, because both of my parents raised me to be an independent woman. And while I do seek their counsel on many occasions, in the end my life is my decision.
I don't take offense easily. People don't always have to be politically correct around me. But the fact that this does still happen does offend me, and the fact that some women like and expect this tradition makes me sad.
In closing, I will leave you with one of the most awesome exchanges on TV ever, from the very first episode of Alias:
The topic is the "tradition" of asking a woman's father for permission to marry her. Don't get me wrong--I love my Dad, and I respect his opinion a great deal. But if any man is ever stupid enough to ask his permission to propose to me, my answer will be no. I have no idea what Dad would say in such a situation--my guess is that he would be fairly bewildered at being asked. I would hope he would be fairly bewildered at being asked, because both of my parents raised me to be an independent woman. And while I do seek their counsel on many occasions, in the end my life is my decision.
I don't take offense easily. People don't always have to be politically correct around me. But the fact that this does still happen does offend me, and the fact that some women like and expect this tradition makes me sad.
In closing, I will leave you with one of the most awesome exchanges on TV ever, from the very first episode of Alias:
Danny: I'm calling because I'm planning on asking Sydney to marry me and... I was hoping to get your approval.
Jack: Danny, let me ask you a question.
Danny: Sure.
Jack: How well do you know my daughter?
Danny: Um, we've been dating for two years...
Jack: Because if you feel the need to ask me about this scenario, I have a sense you don't know Sydney at all.
Danny: Sir, I love your daughter and I want to marry her. That's why I'm calling.
Jack: First of all, Danny, the truth is this is just a courtesy call. Like when you say to your neighbor, "We're having a loud party on Saturday night if that's all right with you." What you really mean is, "We're having a loud party on Saturday night."
Danny: Mr. Bristow...
Jack: Sydney doesn't give a damn what my opinion is. What interests me is that you do.
Danny: It's just a custom to call the father, that's all this is...
Jack: Well, then, I'll tell you what. I may become your father-in-law, that's just fine. But I will not be used as part of a charming little anecdote you tell your friends at cocktail parties so they can see what a quaint, old-fashioned guy Danny really is. Are we clear?
Danny: Yes, sir...
Jack: Good. Then welcome to the family.
Friday, January 19, 2007
Reading Recommendation
I had a huge crush on Wil Wheaton when I was a kid. I was addicted to Star Trek, and Wesley Crusher was the character I could relate to. Sure, 98% of Star Trek fans wanted him dead, but he was my age(ish) and he was kinda cute.
Flash forward a few years. Now older and wiser, I understand why most Star Trek fans hated Wesley. He was freaking annoying, and he often served as an incredibly obvious deus ex machina. Frankly, while Star Trek was (mostly) reasonably well written, you could tell that a bunch of middle-aged men (and women) were sitting around in a room trying to write a teenage character, and failing miserably.
However, it turns out that Wil Wheaton is still pretty freaking cool. I happened upon his blog a few years ago, and I'm quite impressed. He's a great writer, and he seems to be remarkably well adjusted for someone who spent his formative years on the Starship Enterprise. And of course, he writes things like this. It's that particular post that prompted me to post this blog. It captures my thoughts on the matter pretty exactly. In fact, I find myself agreeing with him fairly often. I highly recommend reading his blog.
Flash forward a few years. Now older and wiser, I understand why most Star Trek fans hated Wesley. He was freaking annoying, and he often served as an incredibly obvious deus ex machina. Frankly, while Star Trek was (mostly) reasonably well written, you could tell that a bunch of middle-aged men (and women) were sitting around in a room trying to write a teenage character, and failing miserably.
However, it turns out that Wil Wheaton is still pretty freaking cool. I happened upon his blog a few years ago, and I'm quite impressed. He's a great writer, and he seems to be remarkably well adjusted for someone who spent his formative years on the Starship Enterprise. And of course, he writes things like this. It's that particular post that prompted me to post this blog. It captures my thoughts on the matter pretty exactly. In fact, I find myself agreeing with him fairly often. I highly recommend reading his blog.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Navigation
I hate driving in Baltimore. As much as I love the city itself, driving there stresses me out.
Take last night, for example. My directions for getting to the Ottobar were simple. Get on Howard Street. Stay on Howard Street. Park. And since Howard Street is one of the few streets in Baltimore I can find without trouble, it should be a piece of cake, right? Well, sort of.
I didn't get lost. I'll give it that much. But I had forgotten (or more likely, blocked it out to preserve my sanity) that cars share Howard Street with the lightrail. I hate sharing the street with the fucking lightrail. On the one hand, I'm sure that the city's transportation department has all of the lights correctly timed and that it's perfectly safe. On the other hand, this is the same transportation department that's had a sign that says "Stairs to Charlers St." at the Charles Center Metro station for the past ten years, so maybe I'm right to be apprehensive.
Whatever. I made it to the Ottobar on time, the show was great, and I made it home with a minimum of difficulty--though I should note that Howard Street also becomes one way halfway down, which made my exit a bit more difficult, but I survived. Give me DC driving any day.
Take last night, for example. My directions for getting to the Ottobar were simple. Get on Howard Street. Stay on Howard Street. Park. And since Howard Street is one of the few streets in Baltimore I can find without trouble, it should be a piece of cake, right? Well, sort of.
I didn't get lost. I'll give it that much. But I had forgotten (or more likely, blocked it out to preserve my sanity) that cars share Howard Street with the lightrail. I hate sharing the street with the fucking lightrail. On the one hand, I'm sure that the city's transportation department has all of the lights correctly timed and that it's perfectly safe. On the other hand, this is the same transportation department that's had a sign that says "Stairs to Charlers St." at the Charles Center Metro station for the past ten years, so maybe I'm right to be apprehensive.
Whatever. I made it to the Ottobar on time, the show was great, and I made it home with a minimum of difficulty--though I should note that Howard Street also becomes one way halfway down, which made my exit a bit more difficult, but I survived. Give me DC driving any day.
Saturday, January 6, 2007
Things I have encountered this week that I would like to share. (Part II)
MI-5, aka Spooks
I love Netflix. It lets me get addicted to awesome shows that I never would have seen, and I don't have to pay for cable. This show popped up as a recommendation at some point, and I added it on a whim. Now I'm addicted. Matthew McFayden is hot. And so is his accent. And you have to love a show where you know from the very beginning that anyone can die or otherwise be removed. The last five minutes of the second episode of the first season was like a punch in the gut.
The Earth, My Butt, and Other Big Round Things, by Carolyn Mackler
Read this book. No, seriously. I don't care if the last young adult book you read was a Baby-Sitters Club book. Read this book, and marvel at the blunt honesty. See also, Tangerine, by Edward Bloor.
I love Netflix. It lets me get addicted to awesome shows that I never would have seen, and I don't have to pay for cable. This show popped up as a recommendation at some point, and I added it on a whim. Now I'm addicted. Matthew McFayden is hot. And so is his accent. And you have to love a show where you know from the very beginning that anyone can die or otherwise be removed. The last five minutes of the second episode of the first season was like a punch in the gut.
The Earth, My Butt, and Other Big Round Things, by Carolyn Mackler
Read this book. No, seriously. I don't care if the last young adult book you read was a Baby-Sitters Club book. Read this book, and marvel at the blunt honesty. See also, Tangerine, by Edward Bloor.
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