Around the Way Girl

Dear Palmdale,

It's a roundabout, not rocket science. Let's all take a minute, stop painting our cars glittery green, and do some good old fashioned learning. Oh- and you in the leased Escalade rollin' on dubs...I'm talking to you too. I have faith that you can get it.

Notice, there are no stop signs, only yield signs. That's the entire point of a roundabout...keep people moving. Roundabout, not stop about, and certainly not stop at each street. Check to your left and if no one is coming, get in there. This might mean you need to re-adjust the gun rack in the back window of your truck, but that's okay. Safety first. And contrary to popular belief, Palmdale is not some third world country where whoever honks first gets the right of way. This is America. Land of the Free. Home of the Brave. We have rules and laws. Your mother wasn't lying, they are for your own good.

Then, when you get to your desired destination, simply break away to the right and move it along. Not hard. I know you can do it.

Here is a picture tutorial for those who are literacy challenged. Follow the red (or blue) arrow. I know that most things in this town are built on the grid system, so this newfandangled curvy business is new to most of us, but don't fight progress.


Come on, P-dale...you are my people. I believe in you. Let's show the world that we are not as backwards as they think we are. We can handle a roundabout. Oh-Yes, we can!

That is all.

Happy Trails,
Jill

Things That Peeve My Pet

This is my pet.

And these are the things that peeve him. I just thought that you should know...as peeving my pet will most certainly get you bit. I know he looks harmless, but stranger things have happened. In the spirit of full disclosure, here goes.


1. Leaving or entering the room without announcing your movements.
2. Running up the stairs.
3. People who ask questions at the end of meetings/class.
4. Wrestling/Raising your voice/Fighting.
5. Getting anywhere near my my bed while sleeping.

Okay- so some of these pertain to my pet, some of them pertain to me. Actually....some could go both ways. (I needed 5 though, talk to my therapist). If you plan to stop by my house, or climb in my bed, *gasp* consider yourself warned.

What are these people doing?

THEY'RE DANCING!


Where the Hell is Matt? (2008) from Matthew Harding on Vimeo.

Some of my favorite tidbits...

1)Tonga, where he gets nailed by a huge wave.
2)When dude cracks up at the kids in the Solomon Islands.
3)Kuwait with the dog running circles around him. I can only imagine what the dog is thinking, "I don't know what this fool is doing, but I'd like to get in on some of that," because dogs can totally think.

Happiness is contagious, indeed. And apparently...so is dancing.

Earth Shattering News!

You may want to make sure your food storage and safety preparedness kits are in order. I believe that this week has brought about one of the lesser known signs of the Apocalypse.

We've been back from Christmas break about a week and I have noticed a change. Small. Almost imperceptible to the untrained eye...but my sophomores...they are almost acting like normal humans. I'm pretty sure the lion and the lamb will be next.

Just a heads up. Repent if necessary. The time is coming soon. It's gotta be.

A Debacle in Diplomatic Relations

I talked to these guys this morning, and it didn't go very well. Even more upsetting? There was no dancing and nary a hint of singing. Honestly, I kind of hoped there would be.


Naomi decided that she needed to go somewhere sunny in celebration of her 30th birthday; since I am always in favor of celebraciones de cumpleaños en el sol...the planning for Puerto Rico began rather quickly.

One of the places where we decided to stay is a small Mom & Pop guesthouse in a quiet town on the southern most part of the island. I had the dubious honor of giving them a call this morning as there was no online reservation page. I've got to admit, the phone call could have gone better.

I try not to be the ugly American who expects the world to speak to me in my mother tongue. I geared myself up for what could possibly be a rough conversation and gave ol' Puerto Rico a ring. Heck, I minored in Spanish for heaven's sake. How poorly could it go? Funny thing, I'm still not convinced that what I heard on the other end of the line was Spanish...or anything like unto it.

There was a litany of noise and some sounds that were vaguely recognizable. Then from me there was stammering, panic, and then I just hung up. No words. No apologies. I choked. I froze. I just hung up. After my diplomatic belly flop, I went to a friend who is a Spanish speaker, and had her call and make reservations for me.

Later that day it occurred to me that it would probably be a good idea to have confirmation in writing about our reservation. Thus, my humiliation en Español continued. I drafted up a few of my best guesses as to how I should ask about a confirmation and sent them to the Spanish teacher at my school. I explained my predicament and asked her which sounded the least stupid. She made me feel much better. Apparently, Puerto Rican Spanish is pretty hard to understand. Turns out they speak unbelievably quickly, drop various consonants from their words and pronounce their R's like L's. They are the fast talking Asians of the Spanish speaking world.

This could prove an interesting trip for me and my gringo Spanish.

¡Aye Carumba!

Deeper Shade of Sole

These are the shoes that I have on right now.
I didn't bother to put socks on for a couple of reasons. The main reason was simply because I was running late and couldn't find a matching pair. (I am not proud) As luck would have it, today was much colder than I expected it to be. So of course, I spent a good portion of the morning complaining about my cold, sock-less feet.

To add insult to the injury of my poor, pasty white, little soles, my coworker/friend looked down at my feet and said, "Are you kidding me right now? You aren't wearing white socks?"

Winter, are you listening? I'm so over you.

Hey Sailor!

It's interesting growing up. I am down in San Diego today talking with my grandparents about their youth, their marriage, joining the church and nearly burning down the neighborhood. My dad is recording some stories and I am in the other room looking through pictures.

This is one of my personal favorites. My grandpa is on the left. He and his buddy are heading to get breakfast at the YMCA in Honolulu.

Probably says something about the type of granddaughter that I am, but all I want to know is who is that guy on the right? And does he have any grandsons? Seriously.

Anchors Away, indeed.