I saw this number on my phone....
Naked
aristakawaik
This afternoon, I was sitting at home, just starting the mountain of work I brought with me from school, when the phone rang.  Some number I didn't recognize popped up on the caller ID.  So, I answered it.

Person:  "Is this Jennifer ***?"
Me:  "No, she doesn't live here.  Can I help you?"
Person:  "Well, this number showed up on my phone."
Me:  "I can't help you.  Bye"  <hangs up>

It's bad enough that after almost a year FairPoint hasn't changed my listing to my name.  I actually feel kind of bad for Jen (my old roommate) because people looking for her call me.  Actually, I feel worse for me but I digress.  But really?  You see a number you don't recognize and you just call it?  WHY?????

Obviously, in my opinion, the person who called you heard your voicemail message and realized they dialed a wrong number.  They didn't leave a message because, well, why would you leave a message when you get a wrong number?  If it had been important, don't you think they would have made the effort to tell you why they called?

In our society of instant gratification and constant contact, are we that bored and paranoid that we have to research EVERY single number that pops up?  I just don't get it.  Numbers I don't recognize show up on my phone.  If I'm home, I answer it, and 90% of the time it's someone with a wrong number.  I send them on their way.  But if I'm not home, and no one leaves a message, who cares?  I have better things to do with my time than chase ghosts.

I mean, does this happen to anyone else?  Or am I just profusely unlucky?

Late night creativity
Naked
aristakawaik

So as we leave this water’s edge
With starlit skies above our heads
May the Phoenix rise again.

Once all was green and thriving—
This world in which we dwell
Was safe, serene, and living,
Filled with dreams of Heaven;
And only nightmares of Hell. 

Running through the forests
Were trees, streams, creatures galore!
No time for fear or anger,
Hatred, sadness, and pain
Were no more.

‘Twas there we found each other
In this garden of light and love.
I saw you.  I ran to you.
I loved you.
While They watched from above. 

And as we danced along the water’s edge,
With sun-drenched skies above our heads
We watched the Angels soar again. 

They were creatures not like us—
Hundreds, thousands, away They’d go
Fly above us day and night
Keeping constant watch
For what?  We didn’t know. 

They saw the fire before we did.
They felt the burning heat and fled
Leaving you and I alone;
No one to save us.
Leaving us for dead. 

And as we ran along the water’s edge,
With flame-filled skies above out heads
We saw the Demons walk again.
 
But lo!  Above us in the trees
Salvation—safety in the leaves.
A place to hide?
To rest our heads?
Or simply a place to grieve? 

From our nest we could see it all:
Good and Evil; Right and Wrong;
Clashing, fighting,
Melding;
The battles raging on. 

For countless days and countless nights
We watched the plot unfold
Until we could no longer
Tell the difference—
Between the brass and the gold. 

So as we crept to the water’s edge,
With bloody skies above our heads
We prayed for peace to come again. 

The battle waned. 

The fires faded. 

The lines were blurred. 

We were alone. 

When all was turned to ash and stone
Our Paradise was gone—
We left our nest high in the trees
Found the river, cool and clean,
And sadly moved along. 

For we could ne’er rebuild our home
From the rubble and the dust
Left over from a battle
That had naught to do
With us. 

A burst of flame ahead of us;
A figure stands against the night:
One sole survivor still remains,
Good or Evil?
Wrong or Right? 

Watching his face we saw a spark
Of Peace and Joy and Love,
But behind it we saw something worse
Hate; Anger; Pain;
Could this be one from above? 

I shook my head; we left that place.
But as we reached the river’s end\
You turned your head and touched my hand;
I looked back—
There was no life left in that land.
 
So as we leave this water’s edge
With starlit skies above our heads
May the Phoenix rise again. 

May the Angels soar again. 

May the Glory live again.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don't really know where it came from; it's late at night and I'm nervous for tomorrow.  Feedback?


The Credit Card Gods Have Smiled on Me
Naked
aristakawaik
And I got my $ back from that scam in November.  Totally learned my lesson.  That is all.

I'm turning into my mother...
Naked
aristakawaik
I realized this a few minutes ago whilst stumbling the "crafts" channel on StumbleUpon. Specifically, I came to this epiphany on this site:  sewmamasew.com/blog2/. Here's why:

My mother is known to many as "they puppet lady".  For years she ran her own business called "Joannimals", making lovely and fun stuffed toys.  She kept an album of all the softies she made and even had tags made for many of them (if my memory serves...I know she had business cards...).  In addition to softies, she also made puppets, and was/is a puppeteer of sorts.  I used to have so much fun as a kid doing puppet shows with her.  They were mainly fairy tales or Baha'i virtue stories, and often were performed at Green Acre or in Sunday School class.  But she also came up with many practical sewing ideas; ideas for portable placement/silverware sets, bags, pillows, blankets, etc.

My parents bought me a sewing machine for Christmas.  I have already made several kitchen rags (out of my old Subway shirts!) and an awesome cover for it.  Now I'm looking at how-tos for household handies.

Maybe I'll start a business called "Franimals"...  Nah, that sounds kind of awful.  Perhaps she'll lend me Joannimals?

;)

P.S. if anyone wants some kitchen rags made out of old T-shirts, let me know!  You supply the shirts, and I'll make the rags!

I Always Knew...
Naked
aristakawaik

I am nerdier than 86% of all people. Are you a nerd? Click here to take the Nerd Test, get nerdy images and jokes, and write on the nerd forum!

Ah, the good old days....
Naked
aristakawaik
I'm sitting at my computer, playing Frogger for SNES, when an old song stumbles into my head...my sister, my friend Beth, and I came up with this one:

Oh Fred the Toad, oh Fred the Toad,
Why are you lying in the road?
Did you not see that big, flat bed,
Coming by to squash your head?
Oh Fred the Toad, oh Fred the Toad,
Why are you lying in the road?

(Think Oh Christmas Tree)

We came up with this based on two things. One, we played Frogger on the Atari up at camp that summer. Two, we were at Green Acre for a picnic and there were tons of little squashed frogs all over the road. We were some twisted teenagers...

WARNING!
Naked
aristakawaik
Because I care about you all.

BEWARE: www.realgoldsoft.com is a scam site. It operates through several file download sites offering a $1.95 three day trial membership to download files. DO NOT APPLY! Two things will happen:

1. You will get a very nasty virus on your computer
2. Your credit/debit card will be charged a large sum, over $50.

Be careful. The internet is a wonderful place...but sometimes it can really suck.

Email Clean Out
Naked
aristakawaik
Ok, so my spam folder has suddenly become much more interesting as of late. Usually, it's just random singles' websites and prescription drugs. Occasionally I get a job offer. But, once again, the sex spam has arrived! Let's take a look at the highlights, shall we?

Not all appropriate....Collapse )

I am highly amused by the amount of crap out there on the internet....perhaps it's because I'm thinking about all the people that actually open these emails....oy!

Sounds about right....
Naked
aristakawaik
Everyone knows I'm a klutz. Especially when it comes to breaking things, like, for example, drinking glasses. I'm great at carelessly/accidentally smashing them to bits. Actually, anything made of glass, really. So, naturally, most of the items in my kitchen are made of glass, because I really like glass. Let's just say, I tend to break a glass or two here and there. However, what happened today DOESN'T exactly happen every day:

I'm washing dishes and I'm almost done. Seven glasses and a couple measuring cups left. So my slippery hands drop a glass and it's toast. At least it fell in the sink, so no sweeping. Of course, very next thing I do is pick up a PLASTIC measuring spoon and split that in half, too. Go me.

I quit.

Ew.
Naked
aristakawaik
I just found a rotting potato in my kitchen.  Now my kitchen smells.  And not the sickly-sweet smell of tomatoes and fruits rotting, but the warm, putrid smell that I'd normally associate with meat and rodents.  And it was drippy, too.  Ew.

I can't get the smell out of my head.

?

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