~There are 97,490 people in the U.S. with the name of Violet.
~Statistically, Violet is the 530th most popular first name. (tied with 6 other first names)
| HowManyOfMe.com | ||
|
11.04.2006
How many of me???
11.03.2006
11.01.2006
Life's Lessons from "The Price Is Right"***
"The Price is Right" has been on television longer than I've been alive. Bob Barker has been giving away cars and vacations, asking his beauties to bring out the next prize, and giving people the chance to 'come on down' since before my parents had even met each other.
And now, Bob Barker has made the announcement that he is going to retire. But he will be remembered long after his show is no longer airing.
All of our lives have been touched by Bob and "The Price is Right." We've grown up watching TPIR and have learned many lessons from it. My favorite thing about summer vacation and being sick during the school year was knowing that I could watch TPIR at 11:00 a.m. Here are some of the things that I learned over the years:
Age Four: The louder and more obnoxious you are, the more likely you are to get attention. While I was at my babysitter's house, I would watch the people scream and jump up and down - they were always the people whose names were called.
Age Seven: You should always help to control the pet population by having your pet spayed or neutered. This is also the age when my parents gave away our pet dog because he impregnated the neighbor's dog. Fido just couldn't keep it in his pants.
Age Ten: Math is actually a valuable skill in the real world. You never know when you're going to be asked to figure out multiples of the price of Metamucil to equal between $11.50 and $13.00.
Age Thirteen: The ideal life is to be a Barker Beauty. The Beauties always had beautifully manicured nails and perfectly poofed hair. What a great job to be paid to walk around holding watches and gesturing toward armoires. (Although, honestly, Vanna is the one who has it made. But, apparently, that bitch isn't going anywhere...)
Age Fifteen: Geography is also a valuable skill. It will help you to esimate the cost of your Showcase Showdown exotic vacations to Spain, Hawaii, and Calgary.
Age Sixteen: You have to have a sense of humor about yourself. Although this is not a lesson learned from TPIR directly, when Bob Barker made his appearance on Adam Sandler's "Happy Gilmore" it showed that he can laugh at himself. Very fun.
Age Seventeen: College is all about matching t-shirts.
Age Twenty: The winner is always the person who bids the closest without going over. This comes in handy when going to the casino (Blackjack) and making bets on sporting events (like the one I won last week). The person who goes over the top, loses. [This theory also applies to some dating: The person who bids the least for the relationship is in control.]
Age Twenty-five: Life is hard. And when you get old, you can't spin the wheel all the way around without help. That sucks.
Thank you, Bob, for your years of wisdom that you've shared. Many of us have been changed for good.
***Although Dave also posted about Bob Barker's retirement today, he did not even have the idea to bring it up in a blog until I mentioned it to him this morning as my blog topic for the day. That's the thing about men - you just can't trust them!
And now, Bob Barker has made the announcement that he is going to retire. But he will be remembered long after his show is no longer airing.
All of our lives have been touched by Bob and "The Price is Right." We've grown up watching TPIR and have learned many lessons from it. My favorite thing about summer vacation and being sick during the school year was knowing that I could watch TPIR at 11:00 a.m. Here are some of the things that I learned over the years:
Age Four: The louder and more obnoxious you are, the more likely you are to get attention. While I was at my babysitter's house, I would watch the people scream and jump up and down - they were always the people whose names were called.
Age Seven: You should always help to control the pet population by having your pet spayed or neutered. This is also the age when my parents gave away our pet dog because he impregnated the neighbor's dog. Fido just couldn't keep it in his pants.
Age Ten: Math is actually a valuable skill in the real world. You never know when you're going to be asked to figure out multiples of the price of Metamucil to equal between $11.50 and $13.00.
Age Thirteen: The ideal life is to be a Barker Beauty. The Beauties always had beautifully manicured nails and perfectly poofed hair. What a great job to be paid to walk around holding watches and gesturing toward armoires. (Although, honestly, Vanna is the one who has it made. But, apparently, that bitch isn't going anywhere...)
Age Fifteen: Geography is also a valuable skill. It will help you to esimate the cost of your Showcase Showdown exotic vacations to Spain, Hawaii, and Calgary.
Age Sixteen: You have to have a sense of humor about yourself. Although this is not a lesson learned from TPIR directly, when Bob Barker made his appearance on Adam Sandler's "Happy Gilmore" it showed that he can laugh at himself. Very fun.Age Seventeen: College is all about matching t-shirts.
Age Twenty: The winner is always the person who bids the closest without going over. This comes in handy when going to the casino (Blackjack) and making bets on sporting events (like the one I won last week). The person who goes over the top, loses. [This theory also applies to some dating: The person who bids the least for the relationship is in control.]
Age Twenty-five: Life is hard. And when you get old, you can't spin the wheel all the way around without help. That sucks.
Thank you, Bob, for your years of wisdom that you've shared. Many of us have been changed for good.
***Although Dave also posted about Bob Barker's retirement today, he did not even have the idea to bring it up in a blog until I mentioned it to him this morning as my blog topic for the day. That's the thing about men - you just can't trust them!
10.31.2006
Just in case...
In case you aren't sure how to celebrate Halloween, here are a few ideas. This video is pretty short (only about a minute long) so check it out.
Happy Halloween!!!
Happy Halloween!!!
10.27.2006
10.26.2006
What's In Your Fridge?
Pretty sad, yeah?
TOTAL CONTENTS:
TOTAL CONTENTS:- Bottom level reserved for beer ~ Bud Light, Fat Tire, Amber Bock, Schlafly and maybe some other stuff that's been left from over the summer.
- Five Diet 7-Ups.
- About half a dozen of eggs - but I don't know if they are safe to eat. They've been in there for a while.
- The yellow bowl on the top shelf contains cereal that I poured for myself before I realized the milk was bad. I didn't want to throw away the cereal, so the bowl has been sitting there for a couple weeks now, waiting for me to buy more milk.
- One and a half Red Bulls. (From the last time I made "Shreks" at my place. Recipe: Equal parts Red Bull and UV Blue Vodka.)
- A lonely Yoplait Yogurt.
- Some butter.
- Left over Penne Pasta with Chicken from McGurk's last night.
It is a wonder that I'm not starving to death.
10.24.2006
Suicidal Squirrels
This morning a squirrel ran out in front of my car as I was on my way to work.
I clenched my eyes and waited to hear a thump or crunch but heard neither. I willed myself not to look in my review mirror, not wanting to know if the squirrel had gone to meet his maker.
I gave in and peeked timidly into the rearview. No squirrel! He had survived! I was not a squirrel murderer... today!
***********
Last spring, I was driving down a road. It was two lanes both ways and separated by an island of grass and shrubberies between.
As I drove, I saw a squirrel begin to cross the other two lanes of traffic.
"Poor little squirrel," I thought. "I hope he doesn't get hit!"
The squirrel sprinted across the two lanes of traffic and safely made it to the grassy area in the middle of the road.
Then, the squirrel, as if he had not had enough excitement for the day, decided to sprint across my lanes of traffic. I slowed down, watching him, not wanting to have guilt and squirrel guts smooshed all over my car.
He made it across my lane of traffic just as a car on the right side of me sped past...
The squirrel made a u-turn to try to escape back to the safety of the landscaped island...
And ran directly under the right front tire of my car.
I looked in the rearview mirror that time and saw the smashed squirrel on the road.
I had done it... I had made roadkill.
***************
I remember as a child, I was the oldest of two girls. My little brother was not born until I was nine years old, so my father used to try to get me involved in his interests since he didn't have a son.
My dad liked to go hunting.
He would take me down to Grandma and Grandpa's house, which sat on about sixty acres of woods, to go squirrel hunting. We would go down on a Friday night and wake up before the sun came up on Sunday morning.
Dad and I would walk through the woods, looking for little squirrels hopping from branch to branch, enjoying the brisk fall air. Dad carried his rifle and would expertly shoot the the squirrels.
Then he and I would tromp through the brush and leaves and look for the fallen creature. When we found him, I would pull out a plastic grocery bag. Dad would pick it up and put it in the bag. It was my job to carry the deceased until we were finished hunting and back at the house where Dad would skin the squirrels.
Dad might as well have brought a hound dog with him. At least the hound dog wouldn't have talked the whole time and scared the squirrels away.
******************
One time, Grandma made squirrel stew. It looked like it still had hairs in the meat. I refused to eat it.
******************
And while we're on the subject:
I clenched my eyes and waited to hear a thump or crunch but heard neither. I willed myself not to look in my review mirror, not wanting to know if the squirrel had gone to meet his maker.
I gave in and peeked timidly into the rearview. No squirrel! He had survived! I was not a squirrel murderer... today!
***********
Last spring, I was driving down a road. It was two lanes both ways and separated by an island of grass and shrubberies between.
As I drove, I saw a squirrel begin to cross the other two lanes of traffic.
"Poor little squirrel," I thought. "I hope he doesn't get hit!"
The squirrel sprinted across the two lanes of traffic and safely made it to the grassy area in the middle of the road.
Then, the squirrel, as if he had not had enough excitement for the day, decided to sprint across my lanes of traffic. I slowed down, watching him, not wanting to have guilt and squirrel guts smooshed all over my car.
He made it across my lane of traffic just as a car on the right side of me sped past...
The squirrel made a u-turn to try to escape back to the safety of the landscaped island...
And ran directly under the right front tire of my car.
I looked in the rearview mirror that time and saw the smashed squirrel on the road.
I had done it... I had made roadkill.
***************
I remember as a child, I was the oldest of two girls. My little brother was not born until I was nine years old, so my father used to try to get me involved in his interests since he didn't have a son.
My dad liked to go hunting.
He would take me down to Grandma and Grandpa's house, which sat on about sixty acres of woods, to go squirrel hunting. We would go down on a Friday night and wake up before the sun came up on Sunday morning.
Dad and I would walk through the woods, looking for little squirrels hopping from branch to branch, enjoying the brisk fall air. Dad carried his rifle and would expertly shoot the the squirrels.
Then he and I would tromp through the brush and leaves and look for the fallen creature. When we found him, I would pull out a plastic grocery bag. Dad would pick it up and put it in the bag. It was my job to carry the deceased until we were finished hunting and back at the house where Dad would skin the squirrels.
Dad might as well have brought a hound dog with him. At least the hound dog wouldn't have talked the whole time and scared the squirrels away.
******************
One time, Grandma made squirrel stew. It looked like it still had hairs in the meat. I refused to eat it.
******************
And while we're on the subject:
10.22.2006
Extended Family
My mother has eight brothers and sisters. Almost all of them live on the East Coast and while I was growing up, we would travel out to visit for three weeks or so every summer. My cousin, Amy, and I were inseparable during those visits and we are still close, however, neither of us has made the trek to visit the other in several years.
My dad has three siblings and I have fifteen cousins on that side of the family. One of my aunts lives in the area; the other two live in Denver and Ann Arbor. We get together for Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter and sometimes Fourth of July.
Even though I have a large family in numbers, while I was growing up, our family was pretty isolated. We didn't really ever have neighbors over for barbecues during the summer, no friends came over to play cards and hang out on the weekends. I remember my best friend from school was always going over to this other family's house for all sorts of events. They even went on vacations together.
Our family was pretty quiet, I guess. My parents had a lot of marital problems, although they didn't end up getting divorced until after I had graduated from college. My dad was involved in city politics and knew a lot of people, but it was almost like our family didn't want to let too many people in close to see what really went on inside our home. My mom kept herself isolated and only confided her problems in long distance phone calls to her sister.
A few years ago, I was invited over to a friend of a friend's garage to play cards and drink some beer. There I met the beginning of what I consider my extended family. They themselves are an extended family: siblings, cousins, old friends from high school, and random connections that somehow tie this eclectic group together. Their children are growing up together like family. We see each other almost every week. We go on vacations together. There is a closeness between us that reminds me of what a family should be.
Today, I am going to the baptism of the newest addition to this family. How lucky am I to be invited to be a part of this beautiful baby girl's life? When I was growing up, this would have been an event for "real" family only... that is, if they were in town at the time.
I am grateful to have these wonderful people in my life. I hope that as we continue in our lives, we can continue to experience life with each other. Joys and successes, sorrows and frustrations. Because that's what family is for...
(But if anyone else moves to freakin' Foley, I'll be pissed right off!)
My dad has three siblings and I have fifteen cousins on that side of the family. One of my aunts lives in the area; the other two live in Denver and Ann Arbor. We get together for Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter and sometimes Fourth of July.
Even though I have a large family in numbers, while I was growing up, our family was pretty isolated. We didn't really ever have neighbors over for barbecues during the summer, no friends came over to play cards and hang out on the weekends. I remember my best friend from school was always going over to this other family's house for all sorts of events. They even went on vacations together.
Our family was pretty quiet, I guess. My parents had a lot of marital problems, although they didn't end up getting divorced until after I had graduated from college. My dad was involved in city politics and knew a lot of people, but it was almost like our family didn't want to let too many people in close to see what really went on inside our home. My mom kept herself isolated and only confided her problems in long distance phone calls to her sister.
A few years ago, I was invited over to a friend of a friend's garage to play cards and drink some beer. There I met the beginning of what I consider my extended family. They themselves are an extended family: siblings, cousins, old friends from high school, and random connections that somehow tie this eclectic group together. Their children are growing up together like family. We see each other almost every week. We go on vacations together. There is a closeness between us that reminds me of what a family should be.
Today, I am going to the baptism of the newest addition to this family. How lucky am I to be invited to be a part of this beautiful baby girl's life? When I was growing up, this would have been an event for "real" family only... that is, if they were in town at the time.
I am grateful to have these wonderful people in my life. I hope that as we continue in our lives, we can continue to experience life with each other. Joys and successes, sorrows and frustrations. Because that's what family is for...
(But if anyone else moves to freakin' Foley, I'll be pissed right off!)
10.20.2006
Sports Corner 3
(To the tune of The Fray's "Over My Head")
Over their heads
Over their heads
Eight innings of tied game
Ninth’s not the same
It’s not the same
I always knew
I always knew the Cardinals would come through
That all the fans would be waiting on a queue
For tickets to the Series in the Lou
That’s how its gonna be
Suppan’s fastball and then a strike three
The homerun hammered over the wall by Yadi
Then Shea stadium goes silent and
Everyone thought they were in
Over their heads
Over their heads
Eight innings of tied game
Ninth’s not the same
It’s not the same
Let’s rearrange
The batting order and maybe make a pitching change
Tony puts in Wainwright for the last exchange
The Redbirds are finally on center stage
Predictions that the Mets will beat the Cards
Have faith in Eckstein and Belliard
Then the Mets are beaten in their own backyard
Over their heads
Over their heads
Eight innings of tied game
Ninth’s not the same
It’s not the same
And suddenly, the Mets are part of our past
The predictions just don’t seem to last
And we’re winning and it seems effortless
With a crack of the bat, the Cardinals will never look back
Head to Detroit and unpack
Never thought that we'd make it this far
Won't let it go we win four more
Over their heads
Over their heads
Eight innings of tied game
Ninth’s not the same
It’s not the same
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
