I was starting to feel like a loser, so I decided to post this. It was one of my favorite songs in fourth grade. That's back when I used to fall hard for guys with hair like this. I used to sing it all the time and drive my mother nuts.
Saturday, March 3, 2007
Friday, March 2, 2007
Allowances
It's another snow day, and I've been spending some of my time reading different articles on the Internet. I read one claiming that experts say kids should get an allowance, and they should start getting one at age 3-5. Apparently this is supposed to teach them the value of money. The "experts" also say that the allowance should not be linked to chores since this teaches them that the only reason they should do chores is to get money. Once they get real jobs, why continue to do household chores? I can understand that. Children should learn that doing chores is part of helping out the family. But I don't think that kids should get money that they don't earn.
I never got an allowance. When I was about 7 or 8, my mother decided to teach my younger brother and I the value of a dollar by taking us blueberry raking. It worked. We were on a family owned lot and there were several other kids our age who raked as well. My mother's rule was that we had to rake at least one box of berries a day. After that, we could go play in the rows that had already been raked or read a book (which is what I usually did). There were great big boulders in the rows that were fun to play on. She let us keep all the money we earned, but that was all the spending money we got for the entire year. She bought all our school clothes for us, so we got to spend all of it on fun stuff like toys and books.
If you have never raked blueberries, you might not appreciate how difficult it is. You are on flat land with no shade, bending over a rake for hours at a time. When you are finished, everything aches. The berries stain your skin and clothes a dirty shade of blue, and when you try to fall asleep at night, all you can see when you close your eyes are rows of blueberries. I don't know how much you would get paid today, but when I raked I used to get $2.50 a box. The most I ever raked in one day was 11 boxes.
We did this for about 3 years. Mom got a job when my younger brother started going to school all day, and she had to work summers. She paid us a little money during the summer to do extra chores around the house, but it was still only during the summer so that we had to budget our money for a full year. I think that this system worked really well. She still paid for all of my school clothes so that she could very easily keep track of what I was wearing (of course anything extra that I bought and she didn't like she would conveniently "lose" in the wash). I am very responsible with money. I don't know if I would be as responsible with money today if I had learned from an early age that I deserved to get money each week. Maybe I am missing something, but this doesn't make sense to me.
I never got an allowance. When I was about 7 or 8, my mother decided to teach my younger brother and I the value of a dollar by taking us blueberry raking. It worked. We were on a family owned lot and there were several other kids our age who raked as well. My mother's rule was that we had to rake at least one box of berries a day. After that, we could go play in the rows that had already been raked or read a book (which is what I usually did). There were great big boulders in the rows that were fun to play on. She let us keep all the money we earned, but that was all the spending money we got for the entire year. She bought all our school clothes for us, so we got to spend all of it on fun stuff like toys and books.
If you have never raked blueberries, you might not appreciate how difficult it is. You are on flat land with no shade, bending over a rake for hours at a time. When you are finished, everything aches. The berries stain your skin and clothes a dirty shade of blue, and when you try to fall asleep at night, all you can see when you close your eyes are rows of blueberries. I don't know how much you would get paid today, but when I raked I used to get $2.50 a box. The most I ever raked in one day was 11 boxes.
We did this for about 3 years. Mom got a job when my younger brother started going to school all day, and she had to work summers. She paid us a little money during the summer to do extra chores around the house, but it was still only during the summer so that we had to budget our money for a full year. I think that this system worked really well. She still paid for all of my school clothes so that she could very easily keep track of what I was wearing (of course anything extra that I bought and she didn't like she would conveniently "lose" in the wash). I am very responsible with money. I don't know if I would be as responsible with money today if I had learned from an early age that I deserved to get money each week. Maybe I am missing something, but this doesn't make sense to me.
Friday, February 23, 2007
Ladies Workout Express
I sincerely dislike working out. Before college, my idea of working out was turning the pages in a book or walking down my driveway to get the mail. In my defense, my driveway was pretty long. All of that changed when I got to college. I started to get a little bit chubby and decided it was time to hit that dreadful place known as the gym.
I remember my first trip to the gym quite well, actually. I was scared to go by myself, so I enlisted the help of Matt, who was just a friend at the time. Since I always had 8 am classes in college, we decided to meet outside his room at 6. I ended up having to wake him up, but he was a good sport about it. He showed me where the gym was, how I should sign in and sign up for the different machines I wanted to use. I eagerly jumped on an exercise bike, and he went off to lift weights. I was on the bike for exactly 15 minutes when I decided that I had had enough. My heart rate was up, my mouth was dry, and I was sweating! I was more than a little embarrassed when I found him and told him I was leaving, but he was really nice about it. He just grinned and told me he'd walk me back.
After that first trip, my experiences at the gym improved slightly. I learned how to pace myself and drink lots of water so that I don't die. It's still not a party.
When I was first looking for a gym in the area, I sniffed at places like Curves or Ladies Workout Express. I wanted a real gym, one where I would be amongst men and women who were already fit. I researched different places and saw this great deal for Ladies Workout Express. I figured I'd go in, try the circuit once and then probably look somewhere else.
I went in, saw all of these older women going around the circuit and had to fight to roll my eyes. This was going to be pathetic. A woman showed me how to work all the machinery and then I was off. I was maybe halfway around the circuit when the sweat started pouring off my body and I started thinking, please make it stop, please make it stop! I felt like I was going to die, and these little old ladies were dancing and hopping around me like it was some Satanic ritual. The first few times were incredibly difficult, but then it quickly got easier. I feel like I get a good workout there, and they have a variety of exercise machinery in addition to the circuit. Sometimes they also offer aerobics classes.
The problem I have with Ladies Workout Express is that it's pretty small. This is a good thing when I'm working out and the lady working there says things like, "Get those arms up! You did way more reps two days ago!" I am always greeted by my first name, which is also nice. Whoever is working there will ask me stuff about the wedding, my job, and other things like that. It becomes a problem when I haven't gone for a couple of weeks and I'm greeted with, "Whoa! I never thought I'd see you again! Look everyone, she's back!" It makes me want to crawl into a little hole of shame. I went several times a week during the summer, but I've been dealing with sickness after sickness since school started. I went once in December and once in January. It's so frustrating!
Perhaps this spring will be better.
I remember my first trip to the gym quite well, actually. I was scared to go by myself, so I enlisted the help of Matt, who was just a friend at the time. Since I always had 8 am classes in college, we decided to meet outside his room at 6. I ended up having to wake him up, but he was a good sport about it. He showed me where the gym was, how I should sign in and sign up for the different machines I wanted to use. I eagerly jumped on an exercise bike, and he went off to lift weights. I was on the bike for exactly 15 minutes when I decided that I had had enough. My heart rate was up, my mouth was dry, and I was sweating! I was more than a little embarrassed when I found him and told him I was leaving, but he was really nice about it. He just grinned and told me he'd walk me back.
After that first trip, my experiences at the gym improved slightly. I learned how to pace myself and drink lots of water so that I don't die. It's still not a party.
When I was first looking for a gym in the area, I sniffed at places like Curves or Ladies Workout Express. I wanted a real gym, one where I would be amongst men and women who were already fit. I researched different places and saw this great deal for Ladies Workout Express. I figured I'd go in, try the circuit once and then probably look somewhere else.
I went in, saw all of these older women going around the circuit and had to fight to roll my eyes. This was going to be pathetic. A woman showed me how to work all the machinery and then I was off. I was maybe halfway around the circuit when the sweat started pouring off my body and I started thinking, please make it stop, please make it stop! I felt like I was going to die, and these little old ladies were dancing and hopping around me like it was some Satanic ritual. The first few times were incredibly difficult, but then it quickly got easier. I feel like I get a good workout there, and they have a variety of exercise machinery in addition to the circuit. Sometimes they also offer aerobics classes.
The problem I have with Ladies Workout Express is that it's pretty small. This is a good thing when I'm working out and the lady working there says things like, "Get those arms up! You did way more reps two days ago!" I am always greeted by my first name, which is also nice. Whoever is working there will ask me stuff about the wedding, my job, and other things like that. It becomes a problem when I haven't gone for a couple of weeks and I'm greeted with, "Whoa! I never thought I'd see you again! Look everyone, she's back!" It makes me want to crawl into a little hole of shame. I went several times a week during the summer, but I've been dealing with sickness after sickness since school started. I went once in December and once in January. It's so frustrating!
Perhaps this spring will be better.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Lyndsy
This may surprise and shock you, but I'm not all that popular. It's not that I'm unpopular, exactly. It's more that I find very few people who share my weird sense of humor and don't make fun of me (too much) for my strange little quirks. Lyndsy is one of those people.
I met Lyndsy in college. She lived in a room across the hall from mine, and we shared an honors class together our first semester. We did all sorts of crazy (legal!) things our first two years of college, and when a new honors dorm opened up our junior year, we decided to room together. We had a beautiful dorm room. It was huge and had a wooden floor. We had an entertainment center and a really comfy chair to sit in. We both got single dorm rooms for our senior year, but my junior year was probably the most exciting year of college for me. Lyndsy also edited the introduction to my thesis, acted as a volunteer during my defense, and is mentioned in my acknowledgments in the published copy at the honors center. She was also present at my coronation and insisted that I wear my tiara at most outings.
I was trying to think of a good story about Lyndsy that I could tell, but I don't think that most little adventures we had make much sense unless you were actually there. Lyndsy, you're a better writer than I am, so if you can think of anything, please share!
I've heard that some women have a hard time picking their bridesmaids, but I didn't have to think about it at all. I have four bridesmaids who are all incredibly special to me and whom I love very much.
I met Lyndsy in college. She lived in a room across the hall from mine, and we shared an honors class together our first semester. We did all sorts of crazy (legal!) things our first two years of college, and when a new honors dorm opened up our junior year, we decided to room together. We had a beautiful dorm room. It was huge and had a wooden floor. We had an entertainment center and a really comfy chair to sit in. We both got single dorm rooms for our senior year, but my junior year was probably the most exciting year of college for me. Lyndsy also edited the introduction to my thesis, acted as a volunteer during my defense, and is mentioned in my acknowledgments in the published copy at the honors center. She was also present at my coronation and insisted that I wear my tiara at most outings.
I was trying to think of a good story about Lyndsy that I could tell, but I don't think that most little adventures we had make much sense unless you were actually there. Lyndsy, you're a better writer than I am, so if you can think of anything, please share!
I've heard that some women have a hard time picking their bridesmaids, but I didn't have to think about it at all. I have four bridesmaids who are all incredibly special to me and whom I love very much.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Fifth Finger Jealousy
I realize that probably not all of you love classical music as much as I do, but the brilliance of Glenn Gould cannot be denied. Not only does he have perfectly shaped pinkies, but he breathes new life into Bach. Bach is fantastic anyway, but no one plays him like Gould. This is a clip of Gould and Bernstein performing Bach's Concerto for Piano in D minor, BWV 1052. It gives me goosebumps!
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Happy Valentine's Day!
I had the day off today due to a snow day, which is why I had the time to figure out how to post a video of myself onto my blog. Pretty neat stuff. Don't judge me too harshly though - it was meant to be more funny than anything else!
There is some importance to today, and not because it's Valentine's Day. In exactly two months, I will marry the man of my dreams. I don't want to be too gushy or sappy, and I certainly don't want to embarrass him. I do want to somehow mark this occasion, so this is for him:
There is some importance to today, and not because it's Valentine's Day. In exactly two months, I will marry the man of my dreams. I don't want to be too gushy or sappy, and I certainly don't want to embarrass him. I do want to somehow mark this occasion, so this is for him:
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