tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6670657184767680472024-03-13T20:11:12.482-07:00A Hermit's Ranting TantrumsDedicated to the pursuit of mediocrity since 1986.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger187125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-90320332043585273772013-12-21T08:35:00.001-08:002013-12-21T08:36:42.841-08:00Moving to a new internet location....Just in case any of you out there are still reading this, I just decided to start a new blog. Just because. <a href="http://thebookofjules.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"> So, travel over and have a look! </a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-10069449358661881202013-07-02T19:08:00.000-07:002013-07-03T10:49:06.870-07:00My Cure for Whining (May Involve Extinct Animals)Sometimes a person must return to her roots, and that's what today is all about--returning to the core values upon which A Hermit's Ranting Tantrum was built. So, let's get started with some good old-fashioned ranting. <br />
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Today's Rant: The Generation of Weaklings<br />
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Even though I like to call myself a hermit, I'm not a real one. I, unfortunately, have to exit my cave every day and associate with other members of the human race. I assume that you are like me. (If not, I'm impressed that you found a cave that can support an internet connection.) Since you, like me, are out there spending time among the general public, you may have noticed something: We belong to a species of whiners.<br />
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I wonder if the ancient creators of language would be proud of the way we use their invention. When Orgthag first decided to point at a rock and say, "UGG!"* I don't think he was aware that he had created a wonderful tool that would enable humans to communicate with each other and, most importantly, bitch about how slowly that cat video is loading on our iPhone. *<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">UGG may not have been the first word created. </span><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><br />
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But how could Orgthag have known about the sorts of things we would be dealing with in the 2000s? Sure, he had to hunt for his food, kill it, skin it, and eat it raw (if it were a good day). But come on! We have to wait in the drive-thru for FIFTEEN MINUTES sometimes, just to get a burger. Orgthag had to battle creatures and elements, just to maintain his base existence. That may have been slightly inconvenient, but did Orgthag ever have to get up off the couch and change the temperature on the thermostat? No. Did he ever have to call the power company or the cable company and sit on hold, just so he could see more characters get killed off on Game of Thrones? No! Orgthag had it easy.<br />
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Still, even though Orgthag didn't have to deal with the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_7Vhxm6Dsgk" target="_blank">Netflix disaster of 2011</a> and therefore doesn't understand the depths of suffering to which we modern humans are subjected, we can still commend him for his lack of whining.<i> </i>I'm sure Orgthag was a little too busy <i>not</i> getting killed in order to even form whiny sentences, and that is completely respectable. <br />
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As I have worked as a teacher, I have often wished for a saber-tooth tiger or woolly mammoth or, heck, even a caveman club to use as a defense against whiners. Oh, I'm sorry. You don't feel like you should have to write a one page, double-spaced report? Is that too hard for you? Well, let's see what Mr. Jaws of Death Prehistoric Cat has to say. (Sounds of roaring.) What did you just say? The report won't be a problem? That's what I thought. <br />
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Ah, wouldn't that be nice? Unfortunately, there are no saber tooths available at this moment in time (unless this whole <a href="http://dinosaurs.about.com/od/dinosaurcontroversies/a/De-Extinction.htm" target="_blank">de-extinction</a> thing actually works out). The whole caveman club option is out, seeing as how teachers can't even paddle kids any more. Heck, they can't even hurt kids' <a href="http://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=1356&dat=19920406&id=6XVSAAAAIBAJ&sjid=hAcEAAAAIBAJ&pg=5166,4798074" target="_blank">self esteem</a> any more! So, it's no wonder that whining, which used to be a trait most associated with small children, has now become just another communication tool for adults everywhere. <br />
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How do we combat this whining dilemma? I guess we could all start by putting on our big boy and big girl boots and just learning how to work hard. We could get rid of this whole entitled attitude and just deal with life. As my friend and fellow teacher used to say, "You get what you get and you don't throw a fit." Or we could just wait for the inevitable apocalypse, when we will get to live life just like Orgthag did--sans Google and drive-thru windows. Hopefully, most of the whiners will get killed, and everybody else will just learn how to be productive humans again. Here is an image of of what we might possibly look like, based on the research I've done (and by research, I mean watching post-apocalyptic movies and plays):<br />
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<img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hKkYZ9GWzKA/Sxo10gtIUbI/AAAAAAAAEUg/JSROCu5qAMg/s320/mad-max.jpg" width="256" /><br />
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Yep. I think we're going to be okay. </div>
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Let's stop the whining now, guys. Before I set a saber tooth tiger AND Mad Max on you. Deal? Deal. </div>
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Happy Hermiting</div>
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--Jules</div>
<a href="http://www.richonfilm.com/files/images/book_of_eli_kunis_washington_window_guns_2010_42267.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-54358135379224964422012-09-22T19:10:00.001-07:002012-09-22T19:10:11.901-07:00Proof That I Still LiveI still blog. I promise. I just don't do it here very often. What? You don't believe me? Well, fine. Click on <a href="http://echotheatre.wordpress.com/2012/09/22/the-sofa-saga-why-i-love-live-theatre/" target="_blank">this</a>, unbelievers.<br />
<br />
I'm ashamed of you. ASHAMED.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-54962654360546023522012-02-27T13:25:00.000-08:002012-02-27T13:25:49.033-08:00Somebody got a new haircut....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F61BDL-hGTo/T0v0oW_C_aI/AAAAAAAAASQ/L6LFGUdvjes/s1600/Photo+200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F61BDL-hGTo/T0v0oW_C_aI/AAAAAAAAASQ/L6LFGUdvjes/s320/Photo+200.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-19094347362290307102012-02-01T12:24:00.000-08:002012-02-01T12:24:29.513-08:00February First ResolutionsYou know something? New Year's Resolutions are entirely over-rated. I'm going to lobby for February First Resolutions!<div><br />
</div><div>Why, you ask? Well, it has nothing to do with the fact that December and January were a complete wash for me due to wedding planning and the generally mushy state of my brain caused by engagement-itis. (It's a real thing. Look it up on Wikipedia...after I have a chance to write a bogus page about it.) No, it has nothing to do with that! *Shifty eyes* The reasons for the needed change to February First Resolutions are endless:</div><div><br />
</div><div>1) Who wants to be making big decisions in January? Need I remind you that it is the worst month ever? It contains the most<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blue_Monday_(date)" target="_blank"> depressing day of the year</a>, folks. Now, I dont know about you, but I don't want to be trying to change my flaws or refraining from eating fried food during the most depressing day of the year. I want to be sitting in my footie pajamas or <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5S2p7AiNX9g" target="_blank">Forever Lazy</a>, watching <a href="http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/masterpiece/downtonabbey/" target="_blank">Downton Abbey</a> and crying into my brownie batter. Save the resolution-making for a different day. </div><div><br />
</div><div>...That's actually the only reason I have right now. </div><div><br />
</div><div>So! In honor of February First Resolution day, I'm going to list a couple:</div><div><br />
</div><div>1) Get married (check)</div><div>2) Blog (check)</div><div><br />
</div><div>Excellent! I'm just cruising through this! </div><div><br />
</div><div>Well, all that resolutioning tired me out. Time for some brownie batter.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Oh! And, just as an update, the wedding was a success and the honeymoon trip was excellent. Pictures and details will be upcoming...as will a new blog. Methinks.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Mwah!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-62771111651052032012-02-01T12:04:00.000-08:002012-02-01T12:04:48.778-08:00I Saw. I Learned. I Blogged.A few things I've learned over the last few months (in no particular order):<br />
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<ul><li>There are far too many shades of red. (Cranberry? Red delicious? Barn red? Antique red? Heirloom red? ARGH! Which one do I want?)</li>
<li> Postponing the inevitable is sometimes really lame. And prevents you from getting the Twitter name you want.</li>
<li>Even if the puppy has just barely peed, there is no guarantee that she will not pee all over your Sunday clothes the moment you pick her up. </li>
<li>The cure for depression may be this <a href="http://youtu.be/WxUulGkLu4I">clip</a> right here. </li>
<li>The DMV is the government's substitution for cruel and unusual punishment.</li>
<li>I do not like living out of a suitcase and therefore will never fulfill my dream of being a rock star. (I also don't drink or party, so I guess that dream was doomed from the get-go.)</li>
<li>Two people is the perfect number for Disneyland. You always know who to ride with, you always have someone to talk to, you don't have to worry about keeping a big group together. Perfect. The only thing that could improve it is if one of you is in a wheel chair. (Temporarily, of course.)</li>
<li>You can judge a bad fruit salad based on the number of honeydew melon and cantaloupe chunks inside said salad. And the lack of strawberries.</li>
<li>The Food Network is either my greatest friend or worst enemy. I can't decide.</li>
</ul><div>And, last but not least:</div><div>When planning a wedding, it helps to have a family full of wonderful people who are excited to help. And who know how to decorate. And, the best part about wedding planning is when everything is over and done with. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Mwah.</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-4768212223046203872011-10-14T09:03:00.000-07:002011-10-14T09:03:43.705-07:00Two SQUEE Worthy Bits of NewsI have two exciting pieces of news to deliver. We'll start with the most important.<br />
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<a href="http://blickenstaffs.com/2011/09/blue-bell-ice-cream-is-coming/">BLUE BELL IS NOW AVAILABLE IN UTAH!!!</a><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5YYq5Zvc8sA/S_wfYabT8rI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Y82mmRMYEvE/s1600/Blue+Bell+ice+cream.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5YYq5Zvc8sA/S_wfYabT8rI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Y82mmRMYEvE/s1600/Blue+Bell+ice+cream.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 387px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 401px;" /></a><br />
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*SQUEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!*<br />
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(Ironically enough, I was in Texas when this particular ice cream parlor had their "We now have Blue Bell yay yay yay!" celebration. So, I was going to be having Blue Bell either way. Score. Love you, Texas! And most of all, I love all the wonderful people who let me hang out with them last week. Mwah! Miss you guys!)<br />
<br />
<br />
And now for the second, slightly less important piece of news:<br />
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I'm engaged!<br />
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To this guy right here:<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2LCJuUu-FHU/TphbT5CJPMI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/C90gGyAIDqQ/s1600/Awkward%2Bhug.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663376928703855810" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2LCJuUu-FHU/TphbT5CJPMI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/C90gGyAIDqQ/s320/Awkward%2Bhug.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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Hmmmmmm. Maybe we should find a different pic....<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D2mG4l3-M6w/TphbUClwt7I/AAAAAAAAARI/8z51mBBO32U/s1600/YAY%2BRING.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663376931269162930" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D2mG4l3-M6w/TphbUClwt7I/AAAAAAAAARI/8z51mBBO32U/s320/YAY%2BRING.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 264px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<br />
That's better.<br />
<br />
*SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!*<br />
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I sure do love this boy. Even more than Blue Bell. (Don't tell that to Blue Bell, though. I don't want to hurt its feelings.)<br />
<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-P-G-uHFnUmg/TphbUvRTd6I/AAAAAAAAARU/YIz9opy3lfc/s1600/Emmy%2527s%2BWedding.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663376943262955426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-P-G-uHFnUmg/TphbUvRTd6I/AAAAAAAAARU/YIz9opy3lfc/s320/Emmy%2527s%2BWedding.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 249px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_60670472"><br />
</a><br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/JeffreyLeeBlake#p/a/u/1/x9XMQSdEe8Q">And just for fun, here's a commercial we did together for BYU Broadcasting.</a> Enjoy.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-33425507320080640482011-09-08T07:28:00.000-07:002011-09-08T10:11:35.836-07:00Bucket List Kicked the BucketPrior to this summer, I had two items on my bucket list:<br /><br />1. Visit Hawaii.<br />2. Swim with dolphins.<br /><br />Obviously I'm a big dreamer.<br /><br />Well, I'm happy to announce that I have officially crossed off both items on said bucket list! *CONFETTI!!* And the cool thing is that I didn't even have to PAY to swim with dolphins. Because all I had to do was jump out of the kayak and swim with them. In the wild.<br /><br />I give you permission to be jealous.<br /><br />And while I could go on and on about how much fun I had with Taren and Michelle and Mike, I'd rather just post some pictures and call it good. Yes? Yes.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k8iWfJ4V4Ug/Tmjcx6ppZNI/AAAAAAAAAPY/LiloJU6R-Vo/s1600/Beach%2BBaby.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k8iWfJ4V4Ug/Tmjcx6ppZNI/AAAAAAAAAPY/LiloJU6R-Vo/s320/Beach%2BBaby.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650008482651923666" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-B1PYAyRwsIA/TmjgiVxXD_I/AAAAAAAAAQo/kUmAhgik3VE/s1600/Jumping%2Bon%2Bblack%2Bsand.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-B1PYAyRwsIA/TmjgiVxXD_I/AAAAAAAAAQo/kUmAhgik3VE/s320/Jumping%2Bon%2Bblack%2Bsand.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650012613100638194" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8cD1hC41qZU/TmjgiMimD_I/AAAAAAAAAQg/tr-Vj8O0STo/s1600/Waipio%2BValley.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8cD1hC41qZU/TmjgiMimD_I/AAAAAAAAAQg/tr-Vj8O0STo/s320/Waipio%2BValley.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650012610622787570" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OQN10BZhrn0/Tmjgh9N5JiI/AAAAAAAAAQY/WFTXuDGtz7A/s1600/Zipline%2BWaterfall.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OQN10BZhrn0/Tmjgh9N5JiI/AAAAAAAAAQY/WFTXuDGtz7A/s320/Zipline%2BWaterfall.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650012606509426210" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zSAvj6Nu060/TmjghjjH0UI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/Q50Ms4DkGgE/s1600/Jump%2Bon%2BBridge.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zSAvj6Nu060/TmjghjjH0UI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/Q50Ms4DkGgE/s320/Jump%2Bon%2BBridge.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650012599619146050" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AZBmg7iIdJc/TmjfRgnQ2II/AAAAAAAAAQI/3tJBldcEBJQ/s1600/Banyan.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AZBmg7iIdJc/TmjfRgnQ2II/AAAAAAAAAQI/3tJBldcEBJQ/s320/Banyan.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650011224441673858" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9TC-bqAiu0Q/TmjfRZQi_0I/AAAAAAAAAQA/EIrIVEGlBxc/s1600/Falling%2Binto%2Bthe%2BFalls.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9TC-bqAiu0Q/TmjfRZQi_0I/AAAAAAAAAQA/EIrIVEGlBxc/s320/Falling%2Binto%2Bthe%2BFalls.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650011222467346242" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_xuNOE8Trsc/TmjfRMmEtcI/AAAAAAAAAP4/X8H_67v4EsA/s1600/Akaka%2BFalls.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_xuNOE8Trsc/TmjfRMmEtcI/AAAAAAAAAP4/X8H_67v4EsA/s320/Akaka%2BFalls.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650011219067975106" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6dhwUy86k2g/TmjfQ19wgdI/AAAAAAAAAPw/Lz0WL1GICPI/s1600/Hammock%2BPic.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6dhwUy86k2g/TmjfQ19wgdI/AAAAAAAAAPw/Lz0WL1GICPI/s320/Hammock%2BPic.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650011212993298898" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8LcXGdHuvKU/TmjfQfgKiZI/AAAAAAAAAPo/L8f0JG9c2EQ/s1600/Heart%2BSunset.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8LcXGdHuvKU/TmjfQfgKiZI/AAAAAAAAAPo/L8f0JG9c2EQ/s320/Heart%2BSunset.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650011206963595666" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6vsRiYXaTzI/TmjdM-x6c3I/AAAAAAAAAPg/64Azap6tvjs/s1600/Girls%2Bat%2Bsunset.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6vsRiYXaTzI/TmjdM-x6c3I/AAAAAAAAAPg/64Azap6tvjs/s320/Girls%2Bat%2Bsunset.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650008947616805746" border="0" /></a><br />Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures of swimming with dolphins, so we'll just have to settle for this one with Taren and a turtle.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qSgYGNNcdDo/TmjhAN4DmXI/AAAAAAAAAQw/68U4VkW6FfI/s1600/Taren%2Band%2BTurtle.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qSgYGNNcdDo/TmjhAN4DmXI/AAAAAAAAAQw/68U4VkW6FfI/s320/Taren%2Band%2BTurtle.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650013126377314674" border="0" /></a>Totally awesome. Only someone with Taren's skill could manage to get her head and the turtle's into the frame of one of those cheap, disposable, underwater cameras.<br /><br />(Note: We realize that you're supposed to maintain a distance from sea turtles in Hawaii, so as not to harass them. For the record, this guy was harassing us. We just couldn't stay away, so why not take a photo? )<br /><br />Conclusions:<br /><br />1. I need to add some things to my Bucket List.<br />2. Hawaii is the best.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-24189044296134119042011-06-20T08:36:00.001-07:002011-06-20T08:42:13.494-07:00Freedom!!I just realized that I forgot to tell you all that I am now officially out of "Thank you for calling. How can I help you?" land. That's right, friends. I reached my 9 month customer service representative limit, and now I'm going back to music for a little while.<div><br /></div><div>Hooray!</div><div><br /></div><div>Here's hoping that this time I can make some money. Yes? </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-69978861442028333652011-05-26T08:24:00.000-07:002011-06-07T12:54:20.497-07:00Ring Ring! PUNCH!As is the case with most brilliant discoveries, I didn't even realize I was conducting an experiment. I thought I was just going to work for the last 9 months. But no! As it turns out, through the wonder of classical conditioning, I have successfully trained myself to react negatively to the ringing of the telephone.<br /><br />I am a regular <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ivan_Pavlov">Ivan Pavlov</a>. It's true. Someone give me a Nobel Prize right now.<br />Through my experiments over the last 9 months, I have discovered that a normal person, when forced to listen to the telephone ringing for hours a day followed by an angry call from a customer, will turn into a miserable human being.<br /><br />Don't believe me? Well, feel free to try the experiment for yourself. I'm sure there are many call centers near you that would be happy to hire you on. Once at work, you will soon discover that every time the phone rings, you will have an almost uncontrollable urge to punch something in the face. <br /><br />Happy call centering!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-30767059252456876242011-05-18T07:42:00.000-07:002011-05-18T09:50:23.970-07:00What to do, what to do....Lately, I've been more of a hermit than normal. Shocking, I know. There are all sorts of reasons for the increase in hermitude, but I can pretty much sum up all of these reasons with the help of this lovely image from <a href="http://thisisindexed.com/">thisisindexed.com</a>:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://thisisindexed.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/card2883.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 545px; height: 341px;" src="http://thisisindexed.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/card2883.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I feel like it's time to move on. Anyone else feel the same way?<br /><br />There comes a point in life when winter has lasted far too long, and you're just ready for the sun to come out and stay a while. (Curse you, Utah springs. The month of May should not consist of 40 degree weather.)<br /><br />There comes a point in life when you cannot stand the thought of another work day filled with ringing phones and whining customers and people who don't know how to copy and paste.<br /><br />There comes a point when you just need to move on.<br /><br />So, I'm working toward that. It's time to jettison the things in my life that are weighing me down, and to stop choosing things simply because they're easy.<br /><br />Oh! And it's time to start crossing things off my bucket list--starting with Hawaii. Before this summer is over, I WILL go to Hawaii and I WILL swim with dolphins.<br /><br />Want to join me? Feel free. Hermits unite!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-41967110849269039302011-03-15T06:33:00.000-07:002011-03-18T11:17:44.742-07:00Take Your Daylight Saving Time and Stick It Where the Sun Don't Shine. Cause That's When I'm Driving To Work Now.(I realize I'm a little late posting about this, but I was too busy napping.)<br /><br />Ah, Daylight Saving: That magical time of year when all of us (Arizona not included) lose an hour of precious sleep. And, since few of us are <a href="http://www.gallup.com/poll/5314/eyes-wide-open-americans-sleep-stress.aspx">getting enough sleep to begin with</a>, this creates a lot of angry, zombie-like people, searching for someone to blame for cutting into our nap time. To whom does the <a href="http://www.tvacres.com/awards_booby_flying.htm">Flying Fickle Finger of Fate</a> usually end up pointing? The one and only Ben-jammin Franklin. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.ushistory.org/franklin/info/images/franklinwithkey.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 421px; height: 570px;" src="http://www.ushistory.org/franklin/info/images/franklinwithkey.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />(Am I the only one who thinks this is super creepy?)<br /><br />"Darn you, Benjamin!" we say. "Why didn't you keep your blasted opinions to yourself?! We're fine with you being on the 100 dollar bill and all, but COME ON!"<br /><br />Now, I love my sleep just as much as the next guy, and I hate Daylight Saving time MORE than the next guy, but I think we all need to take a step back and give poor Ben a break.<br /><br />Here's the deal: <a href="http://www.geek.com/articles/geek-cetera/dont-blame-ben-franklin-for-daylight-savings-it-was-kind-of-a-joke-20110314/">Benjamin Franklin's whole suggestion for this business was satirical in nature.</a> Just the writings of a brilliant guy who was probably bored sitting in a house in Paris. <a href="http://www.webexhibits.org/daylightsaving/franklin3.html">(Here's the whole letter, if you want to read it.)</a> So, should we really be blaming Ben? Or should we be blaming all of us (Arizona not included) for continuing to do this STUPID MOVE-THE-CLOCKS-FORWARD-AND-BACK THING?!<br /><br />*Jules gets so upset she falls into a deep sleep. Narcolepsy style.*<br /><br />Ahem. Excuse me.<br /><br />This is what I'm asking for, People of the World. I want to hear at least three good, solid reasons for why I lost an hour of sleep this week, and why I'm driving to work in the dark. If the reason includes something like, "It's great! It stays lighter longer," I don't want to hear it. Know why? BECAUSE THERE IS STILL THE SAME AMOUNT OF LIGHT!! Now, however, when I'm driving to work at 6:30 in the morning, IT'S DARK! Know why? BECAUSE I'M REALLY DRIVING TO WORK AT 5:30 IN THE MORNING!!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=92IkddsjtAA">*Angry Jules. "Flames. Flames on the side of my face...."*</a><br /><br />The other thing I don't want to hear is that it saves us all so much money. I hear this often, but I have yet to see any real proof of this supposed fact. Does anyone have some hardcore evidence of this? <a href="http://www.lmgtfy.com/?q=amount+of+money+saved+daylight+saving">(Or would you like to Google it for me?)</a> People keep telling me that it saves so much money, but I have yet to see the data. So, show it to me.<br /><br />And, even if you can prove that it saves money, I don't care. I'll just leave me lights on twice as long out of spite. Take THAT!<br /><br />Next year, I'm boycotting. This is the worst idea ever.<br /><br />That's enough. I'm going back to sleep.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-80244891258560416472011-03-10T06:38:00.000-08:002011-03-21T20:54:44.576-07:00Flife!My most loyal reader (Hi Dad!) has been dropping several hints lately about my lack of blogging.<br /><br />"Well, I don't know what's going on in Jules' life, since she never blogs anymore."<br /><br />"Dad, we live in the same house. I talk with you all the time."<br /><br />"It's not on the blog...."<br /><br />And, since I've moved to a new place (finally), I no longer have an excuse for my slacking. And, since it's my most loyal reader's birthday today (Happy Birthday, Dad!), I figure I owe it to him to at least blog a little bit.<div><br /></div><div>So, since I haven't written a haiku in a while, here are two:</div><div><br /></div><div>(For Padre)</div><div><br /></div><div>Throw some confetti.</div><div>Please party responsibly.</div><div>Happy Birthday, Dad.</div><div><br /></div><div>(On Julianna's Life As a Twenty-Something)</div><div><br /></div><div>Life is happening.</div><div>What more do you want to know?</div><div>I need to sleep more.</div><div><br /></div><div>I hope life is treating you all well! <a href="http://hotair.com/archives/2011/03/21/bully-body-slam-finale-the-internets-greatest-hero-speaks/">And if it's not, you should body slam it.</a> </div><div><br /></div><div>(And Happy Birthday, Dad!) </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-12583073677174326512011-01-21T12:00:00.000-08:002011-01-25T07:50:35.209-08:00Practice Safe Text<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://blog.pennlive.com/patriotnewssports/2007/09/hermit-guys.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 576px; height: 454px;" src="http://blog.pennlive.com/patriotnewssports/2007/09/hermit-guys.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />(I want one of these shirts--minus the unnecessary apostrophe.)<br /><br />Still not sure about this National Hermit Month thing? Still need reasons to stay in your house and never come out? Well, let me teach you about one woman who should have celebrated National Hermit Month with the rest of us.<br /><br />Meet <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZXYY_ep5Nh0&feature=fvst">Cathy Cruz Marrero</a>:, the woman who tripped into a fountain while texting, and was lucky enough to get caught on tape.<br /><br />(By the way, I'm sorry to say that this isn't the greatest video of the incident. Unfortunately, the good one was taken off of YouTube because of Cathy's whining, which I will discuss in a minute.)<br /><br />Now, there's an embarrassing moment worth sharing during getting-to-know-you conversations. You could pretty much "one up" anyone.<br /><br />"Cathy, what's your most embarrassing moment?"<br /><br />"Well, let me show you, man. It's epic. I got millions of hits on YouTube."<br /><br />I, for one, would be proud that such a hilarious moment was caught on film. In fact, the next time I do something idiotic like that in a public place, I'm going to find the security guards and ask if they caught it on tape.<br /><br />But, not Cathy. She had a completely different reaction to this whole situation, and decided to become angry. <a href="http://www.wfmz.com/video/26551471/index.html">Watch this.</a><br /><br />I have so many issues with this. SOOO many.<br /><br />First of all, if she would have just kept her mouth shut, NO ONE would have known that this was her. Honestly, if you watch the video, you can't even tell that it's a woman.<br /><br />Secondly, it drives me nuts that she says, "I usually don't walk and text. I don't do that. I wait til I go home and text." Lady, I don't believe you for one second. And who cares if you walk and text? Everyone does. Not everyone falls in a fountain while they're doing that, but to each her own.<br /><br />Thirdly, it's maddening that she's trying to sue mall security for not coming to check on her. "Sometimes there's not water in that fountain. I could have been really hurt." Obviously, there was water in that fountain because she was soaking wet. And, obviously, she wasn't hurt because she stood up and walked away. So, just shut up, lady. Laugh it off, lady! She's making it worse by trying to fight this. Now everyone just heartily dislikes her.<br /><br />Fourthly, she says she would never post a video like this. She would think of the person's feelings. BULL. I'm sure she's done her fair share of posting funny videos on her Facebook wall, or watching America's Funniest Home Videos back in the day. Let's face it: This kind of stuff is HILARIOUS when it's not happening to you!<br /><br />And, finally: "What would you like people to learn about texting?"<br /><br />"It's dangerous."<br /><br />*Blink.*<br /><br />Nope, being inattentive is dangerous.<br /><br />So, Cathy, I wish you the best, but you are not handling this in the right way. You should have just stayed at home. <a href="http://readingeagle.com/article.aspx?id=280672">And now you have way more problems than just an embarrassing YouTube video.</a><br /><br />Let that be a listen to you, hermits and shermits everywhere. Don't leave your house in January.<br /><br />You've still got a week left in Hermit Month. Make it count!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-75612095748459310342011-01-12T07:50:00.000-08:002011-01-17T14:42:55.063-08:00A (completely fabricated) History of Hermits<span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;">What is this National Hermit Month, you may be asking, and how did it all come about? Excellent questions, my friends. Excellent questions, indeed.<br /><br />The truth is that Hermits and Shermits (she hermits) have been around since the very first January decided to declare its presence with characteristic cold weather and general orneriness. Now, I wasn't there for the inception (<a href="http://inception.davepedu.com/">BWONG!</a>) of the hermits, but I imagine it happened like this:<br /><br />*DRAMATIZATION*<br /><br />Scene: MAN and WOMAN have finished their December holiday partying, and decide it's time to leave their cave for some fresh air. They take a deep breath and take one step out of their cave, when suddenly EVIL JANUARY runs out of the woods and uses his icicle club to bludgeon MAN and WOMAN repeatedly until they have no choice but to limp back into the safety of their cave. EVIL JANUARY laughs maniacally.<br /><br />The End.<br /><br />And that was the beginning of fairies. I mean hermits.<br /><br />So, really, we come by our hermithood naturally. It's perfectly normal for people to want to crawl inside a hole and do nothing but sit in a bubble bath and watch <a href="http://abc.go.com/watch/castle/SH559040?CID=google_sem_1">Castle</a> all day, because that's what our ancient ancestors did. (That's right. They had bubble baths and TV in the stone age. Don't let anyone tell you differently.) The next time someone tries to chastise you for being lazy in the month of January, feel free to chastise them for attempting to thwart Mother Nature.<br /><br />Take THAT, you ambitious, non-hermits.<br /><br />Well, I've let slip some of my fav hermit activities. What are yours? Anyone?<br /><br />(If you say World of Warcraft, you shall be stricken from my blog. Also, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2g_U02Pz0P4">this is terrifying</a>. Completely unrelated, but terrifying.)<br /><br />Happy hermit-ing!<br /><br /><br /><br /></span><br /><br /><br /></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-65766203368213756612011-01-10T16:19:00.000-08:002011-01-10T16:33:34.638-08:00GASP!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EY21Q7khbuY/TSukd7vcEYI/AAAAAAAAAOA/Fs6df4od7es/s1600/Photo%2B147.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EY21Q7khbuY/TSukd7vcEYI/AAAAAAAAAOA/Fs6df4od7es/s320/Photo%2B147.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560718999078834562" /></a><br />Oh no! It's National Hermit Month (Julianna's made-up month) and I've missed nearly a third of it! <div><br /></div><div>I am a disgrace to all hermits. Or am I? *Raised eyebrow*</div><div><br /></div><div>I will have you know that I have been extremely hermitish so far this January--cranky, whiny, depressed, etc. Ha! I have been the best hermit ever!</div><div><br /></div><div>Actually, I've been distracted by a few things...mainly these adorable guys:</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EY21Q7khbuY/TSujqm4i21I/AAAAAAAAANo/4FHlCIJ3JK4/s1600/Jules%2Band%2BRyan.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EY21Q7khbuY/TSujqm4i21I/AAAAAAAAANo/4FHlCIJ3JK4/s320/Jules%2Band%2BRyan.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560718117306555218" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EY21Q7khbuY/TSulC7YhVdI/AAAAAAAAAOI/tGGi1T9vpjg/s1600/Photo%2B137.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EY21Q7khbuY/TSulC7YhVdI/AAAAAAAAAOI/tGGi1T9vpjg/s320/Photo%2B137.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560719634637870546" /></a><br /></div><div>So, maybe I've been a little distracted. BUT FEAR NOT! The hermit-ing will continue.</div><div><br /></div><div>Let the National Hermit Month Festivities begin!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-1390298294056669922010-12-08T06:44:00.000-08:002010-12-08T07:35:11.099-08:00Mornings. GAH.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kikolani.com/images/doitlater.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 402px; height: 337px;" src="http://kikolani.com/images/doitlater.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />I am not a morning person. Have I mentioned this before? Yes. Will I continue to mention it? As long as I have to wake up in the morning, yes.<br /><br />Are there any other non-morning people who feel my pain--the pain that comes from rolling out of bed before 6 am? I'm betting most of the people reading this feel the same way I do, as a matter of fact. So, here's my question:<br /><br />If the majority of us are NOT morning people, why is it that we allow morning people to dictate our work/school schedules, hmm? Is it because they get up before we do and beat us to all of the decision-making meetings?<br /><br />"All those in favor of starting the work day before 10 raise your hands. Hey! It looks like everyone here is in favor of this proposition. That's surprising! I thought for sure that the night people would vote against it."<br /><br />"Um, sir, we're holding this meeting at 7:30 am. None of the night people made it."<br /><br />"Ah."<br /><br />Well, let's not be bullied any longer. I say we decide to start the work day at 10:00 am. None of this starting at 7:00 am stuff. Night people, now is the time to unite. Here is my plan:<br /><br />First of all, we deprive the morning people of their caffeine. I'm sure they wouldn't be so happy about mornings without their coffee.<br /><br />Secondly...that's as far as I've gotten. I'll work more on the plan when it's not so early in the morning. And then we will conquer, and the world will be glorious. I mean, if all businesses decided to open at ten, it would be totally cool! We could all get a little more sleep or get a few things done around the house or whatever. Brilliant? Yes. I should rule the world. But only after 10 am.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-24235824418869394002010-12-02T06:13:00.000-08:002010-12-02T13:12:38.295-08:00NO, Katy. NO.Once upon a time, <a href="http://juliannaboulter.blogspot.com/2010/07/girl-i-mean-to-be.html">I mentioned a few people who need a "No Girl"</a>--someone to just say no to their bad ideas. Well, let me add Katy Perry to that list.<br /><br />There are many times a No Girl would have been helpful for Katy. ("I think I'm going to marry <a href="http://www.purplelabnyc.com/purpleblab/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/russel-brand.jpg">Russell Brand</a>." "No, Katy. No.") But I'm only going to address one.<br /><br />Have you heard Katy's song Firework? I like it. It's catchy and has a nice message. However, have you seen the Firework music video? No? Behold! (You only need to watch the first minute or so to catch the "No" moment, though the whole video is weird.)<br /><br /><object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QGJuMBdaqIw?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QGJuMBdaqIw?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br />Now, children, can any of you guess which moment requires a no? Choose from one of the following options:<br /><br />a) Shots of the city<br />b) Pool party<br />c) Family fight<br />d) <span style="font-weight: bold;">THAT ONE PART WHERE FIREWORKS START SHOOTING OUT OF HER BOOBS.</span><br /><br />Any guesses? D? Is that your final answer? <br /><br />*Dora the Explorer Voice* VERY GOOD! <br /><br />Honestly! What is going on? I get the concept--we're all special and have light within us. Yada yada. But is that really the best visual? Fireworks shooting out of our chests? Call me crazy, but I don't find that image very inspiring. To be honest, it reminds me of that scene from Austin Powers where the Go Go Girl Robots have machine guns in their chests....<br /><br />Sorry. We're getting a little graphic today. <br /><br />The point is that it's high time I make a business out of this No Girl thing. Everybody needs a No Girl (including me). I could be rich. RICH! <br /><br />So, who wants to be the first person to hire me? Anyone, anyone? <a href="http://i.huffpost.com/gen/172665/WILLOW-SMITH.jpg">Willow Smith</a>?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-89949958316205367682010-12-01T07:03:00.001-08:002010-12-01T07:43:16.502-08:00Well, Byron....I work in a very small call center. In fact, there are certain times during the day when only one person is on the phone. Today, I got chewed out by someone who was on hold for too long. As I was apologizing to him and explaining that I was the only one answering phone calls at the moment, I couldn't help but think of :26 of this clip:<br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/DFcIH2tK2iM?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/DFcIH2tK2iM?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br /><br />"Well, Byron, surprisingly, it's just me."<br /><br />Is it weird that I think this clip is hilarious? Maybe it's the lack of sleep. 7:00 am is way too early for me to be functioning... *Twitch.*Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-981292729495387722010-11-30T06:39:00.001-08:002010-11-30T06:44:38.573-08:00The Other Dark MeatOh! Just to give you a little glimpse of what I've been doing for the last little while, here's the Demon Chicken trailer. I've written all the music for the film (including what you hear in the trailer), and I may or may not be the blue girl in this.... Come see it, my friends! Tickets are just three bucks, and it should be lots of fun. (How often do you get to go to a red carpet premier, anyway?) I will see you there! <br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rWq-H2X9HOg?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rWq-H2X9HOg?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-26040926887516547682010-11-30T06:14:00.000-08:002010-11-30T06:38:55.004-08:00Bears Have It So Easy.I keep starting blog posts, attempting to make up for the hiatus I've taken from writing, but the perfectionist in me screams, "No! Not good enough! You have to do something epic to make up for your neglect!" That darn perfectionist. It's impossible for me to get anything done with her around. So, I've taken this moment to gag the perfectionist within and lock her in the closet, so to speak. Quick! Let's have a chat before she gets out!<br /><br />How have y'all been? (Please feel free to verbalize your answer.) Wonderful, wonderful. I've been cold and tired, but other than that I'm fantastic. You know what I've discovered? Scraping the ice off my car is one of my least favorite activities ever, and doing it at 6:30 in the morning is hell. Oh, if only there were a way to hibernate through the winter....<br /><br /><object width="512" height="288"><param name="movie" value="http://www.hulu.com/embed/uncMqnPbrYcqriOo_oHCqg"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.hulu.com/embed/uncMqnPbrYcqriOo_oHCqg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="512" height="288"></embed></object><br /><br />Somebody get me some Hibernol, STAT!<br /><br />Uh oh. Miss Perfectionist is starting to break out. I'll see you later.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-17985465610965960552010-10-21T13:29:00.000-07:002010-10-21T14:04:16.021-07:00Public Service Announcement #3This month, I want us to work on eliminating this phrase:<br /><br />"I like long walks on the beach."<br /><br />Example: My name's Julianna, and I like long walks on the beach. <br /><br />Why am I targeting this one, you may ask? BECAUSE I CAN'T LISTEN TO IT ANYMORE.<br /><br />Here's the weird thing about this phrase: I'm sure it started out as a sincere way to introduce oneself on...say...dating service videos. And then it was overused to the point that people started saying it as a joke. Oh, and what a funny joke it was for people to introduce themselves that way at work and school and church and such. Har har har. And then the joke got less funny over the years as people continued to introduce themselves that way at work and school and church and such. Har har. And now it's decidedly UNfunny when people introduce themselves this way at work and school and church and such, but we feel obligated to give out at least one "Har". <br /><br />No more. Let's do away with that final "Har". <br /><br />If you are one of those hundreds of people that STILL thinks this is a clever way to introduce yourself, let me enlighten you. IT'S NOT. You might as well stand up and say, "My name is ______, and I like being unoriginal." (Ironically enough, it would be more original for you to say you like being unoriginal, but whatever.) And, if you are one of those hundreds of people that STILL laughs when someone introduces himself with the beach phrase, I beg you to stop encouraging this.<br /><br />I submit that the next time someone tries to get a laugh by using this phrase, we all choose to stay completely silent. No laughter. If you can make a cricket chirping noise, do so. Feel free to glare at the person who uses the stale phrase. Make him feel so embarrassed that he will never say it or laugh at it ever again. <br /><br />I know it sounds harsh, but it must be done.<br /><br />Go forth, my people. Grab your literary pitchforks and slay the ogre that is "I like long walks on the beach"!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-14836341824219074962010-10-20T08:32:00.000-07:002010-10-20T09:37:40.921-07:00ERG!!!On Saturday, I was lucky enough to be able to take the <a href="http://juliannaboulter.blogspot.com/2010/06/what-masters-would-best-complement-my.html">GRE</a>. Ah, there's nothing like spending a gorgeous fall day trapped inside a small, dark testing center taking a mind-taxing test for four hours.<br /><br />Actually, the test itself wasn't TOO bad. Except for the math part. So help me, I will never be able to figure out how to find the area of one shape circumscribed about another shape.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://upload.vipulg.com/Maths/Book2/chapter11_files/chapter11-10.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 367px; height: 387px;" src="http://upload.vipulg.com/Maths/Book2/chapter11_files/chapter11-10.png" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />URG. I just about have an aneurysm when I look at those problems.<br /><br />Anyway, the worst part of the whole test was actually the hoops I had to jump through BEFORE the test started. They don't allow you to have food or water in there, and they monitor how many breaks you take. They also literally make you turn your pockets inside out before you go in. I understand the principles behind this, but it's sad to me that we have gotten to this point as a society. We can't just treat people like adults. We have to treat everyone like disobedient children, because there are too many dirty, rotten cheaters.<br /><br />Oh! But that wasn't the worst part. The test itself started with a tutorial about the computer. Literally, the first part of the tutorial said, "This is a mouse. This is how you use the mouse. Practice clicking the mouse." It then proceeded to teach you about all sorts of *difficult* skills like scrolling and other such complex computer functions.<br /><br />What the what?<br /><br />Let's think about this for a minute. The GRE is designed to assess the competency level of people who are getting ready to attend grad school. So, here I am, ready to be tested on whether or not I know the antonym of words like cosset and misanthropic, and whether or not I can solve 48 math questions in 45 minutes. Somehow, these skills are supposed to inform admissions officials about my ability to perform well in school. But the test-makers are assuming that there's a possibility that I won't know how to operate a mouse. AND THIS IS ACCEPTABLE??!<br /><br />Call me crazy, but I think it's a lot more important for a potential grad school student to know how to perform basic computer functions, than it is for a potential grad school student to know what <a href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/pulchritudinous">pulchritudinous</a> means. (Frankly, if anyone ever uses that word in my presence, I will punch him in the face. "IT MEANS BEAUTIFUL!! JUST SAY BEAUTIFUL!!") If you don't know how to click a mouse, you are going to have a hard time anywhere, frankly.<br /><br />This is just one more thing that bothers me about the whole world of academics. We are all tested on skills that aren't entirely applicable in real world situations, while USEFUL skills are neglected. I don't care if you can quote all of the words in the dictionary or do wonders with imaginary numbers. If you can't figure out how to navigate around a computer or carry on a conversation with human beings, you have some work to do.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://dickard.files.wordpress.com/2008/04/schoolforthegifted.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 307px; height: 400px;" src="http://dickard.files.wordpress.com/2008/04/schoolforthegifted.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Common sense, my dears. It's worth a lot more than that GRE. Or, it should be worth more, anyway. <br /><br />Well, at least that part of my grad school prep is out of the way! Now it's on to other things. I'm on my way to Chicago this weekend to check out Columbia College, so I hope that all goes well. <br /><br />And when I say "I hope that all goes well", I really mean, "I hope I don't get raped". (Thanks, Dad, for giving me a complex by telling me about the muggings that happen in Chicago. I love you.) <br /><br />Wish me luck, my dears! And if I don't make it back, carry on the Hermit blogging without me. <br /><br />Love you, mean it.<br /><br />JulesUnknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-72722692158796837682010-09-29T10:19:00.000-07:002010-09-29T13:36:25.557-07:00Eureka!I love small town people.<br /><br />When I say that, I actually mean people who live in small towns...as opposed to town people who are small. (Though I'm sure the small people are just as love-able.)<br /><br />Why do I love the citizens of small towns? They're so gosh-darn easy going. That is why I want to take some time today to commend <a href="http://www.ghosttowns.com/states/ut/eureka.html">Eureka </a>for its complete and total awesomeness.<br /><br />We took a large group of people to Eureka last week to do some filming for Demon Chicken (premiering Dec. 9 in Pleasant Grove, peeps). Now, most people in "normal" cities would have a hernia if a drove of college-aged kids showed up in full make up to film a low budget movie, but not the good people of Eureka. No sir. They were excited about letting us use their town. Like, wanted to take pictures with us, excited. Like, wanted to help film, excited.<br /><br />I'd especially like to take a moment to give a shout out to two very special Eurekans.<br /><br />To Billy, the nice elderly gentleman who let us film in his buildings, you totally rock. And I think your idea of making a "topless bar" out of your roofless building is fantastic. Perhaps a little inappropriate and too progressive for a sleepy town, but fantastic nonetheless.<br /><br />And to Craig, you might be the coolest sheriff I've ever met. Everyone, I want you to picture this in your head: Imagine that you are a sheriff. Yes, you. You are driving down the road in your sheriffy car, when you see some people running around dressed as zombies. "Huh," you think. "That's strange." Then you look across the street and see a girl (that would be me, Jules) dressed in nothing but a towel, being airbrushed blue. Now, you might be tempted to take some sort of disciplinary action against these hooligans, right? Well, not Craig! He drove his truck right up to me and said, "Hey. This looked like fun, so I thought I'd come over and see what you're doing."<br /><br />Here's to you, Craig. And Billy. And Eureka.<br /><br />Cheers.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667065718476768047.post-6478857390618328382010-09-17T09:16:00.000-07:002010-09-17T10:10:05.887-07:00Public Service Announcement #2<a href="http://juliannaboulter.blogspot.com/2010/08/public-service-announcement.html">Good job with refraining from using "git er done</a>", my minions. Statistics show* that "git er done" usage is down by 36%. (Of course, it just went up since I used it twice. Blast.)<br /><br />Even though we've cut back on one annoying phrase, though, there are many more out there. We've got work to do.<br /><br />*Inspiring music begins to play in the background. You may all turn on the Braveheart soundtrack now.*<br /><br />The fight may be long. The fight may be hard. There may be days when we feel like we are going to be overrun by the vast amount of people who don't know how speak correctly. BUT WE WILL NOT GIVE UP! We will not falter! Together we will show the world that <span style="font-style: italic;">they</span> can continue to speak like idiots, but they can never make <span style="font-style: italic;">us</span> speak like idiots!<br /><br />*Music reaches a climactic point, and Jules raises her sword into the air.*<br /><br />PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT NUMBER 2!!!!!<br /><br />*Cheers fill the air.*<br /><br />Ahem.<br /><br />All right, here's the phrase we need to boycott this week:<br /><br />"I could care less."<br /><br />Example: "I don't want to hear your opinion. I could care less about what you think."<br /><br />Hmmm. Think about it. If you COULD care less about what I think, why don't you go ahead and care less? What you <span style="font-style: italic;">mean</span> to say is, "I COULDN'T care less about what you think."<br /><br />There you go.<br /><br />Go forth, my friends. Rid the world of "could care less".<br /><br />I'm going to go off and help Scotland win its freedom.<br /><br />(For the "Sons of Scotland" speech, skip to 4:28.)<br /><br /><object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6CNUm2Pmjoo?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6CNUm2Pmjoo?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br />Oh, Braveheart. I love you.<br /><br />*All statistics are made up on the spot by me.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5