If you've seen my sister's confessions of a 4th grade sociopath, then you'll realize that it's true that she is the "bad" sister. I can honestly say that I've never deliberately snapped a pencil in half. In fact, there's only been a few times that I EVER got in trouble in school (because I am the good child, and have a healthy respect for the rules). The only big time I ended up on the wrong side of the law was in first grade. Ms. Davis had a poster that had a picture of an apple on it for every student in the class. Everyone's name was printed neatly on their picture of a shining red apply with obligatory smiley face on it. Every week, you started out with a clean shiny apple. If you were bad, then Ms. Davis would glue a Styrofoam "worm" (aka packing peanut) onto your apple. (I'm guessing the point was that you were now a "bad apple"). If you made it through the whole week without a worm, then you got to get a prize out of the "treasure chest" (which consisted almost entirely of shiny new pencils). I had quite the new pencil collection because I am, of course, the good child. (It's a good thing that Steph hadn't gone through her pencil snapping phase then, because heads would have rolled!). Anyway, one day Ms. Davis had to run up to the office, so she assigned a class monitor to take names. (Ohhhh, the power of a name taker! No talking or you got your name written up on the board! Repeat offenders got a check mark! A check mark! I am still convinced to this day that a check mark by your name on the board practically guarantees that you are going to grow up to be a criminal). I, of course, never got my name on the board. (And was smugly superior about it too).
Anyway, the problem started when Ms. Davis left the room and the name taker announced that he did not care if anyone talked, he was not going to put anyone's name on the board! Can you imagine! A complete disregard for the rules! Not taking names AND allowing talking! (That never would have happened if Ms. Davis had put me in charge). The class in general, however, thought that this was a wonderful idea, and the noise level immediately skyrocketed. I knew that when Ms. Davis came back, she would be mad. And I wanted to make it very clear when she did that I was not part of this rule-breaking foolishness! So I left the class, and waited for Ms. Davis outside the room. Unfortunately, Ms. Davis neglected to mention on her list of class rules that leaving the classroom and loitering outside was also not allowed. And she was not at all pleased to come back and find me waiting by the door. Not. At. All. And then...SHE GLUED A WORM TO MY APPLE! My apple! My beautiful, shiny, clean apple! Marred by a worm! Worse, I was now a bad kid! Destined for a life of crime! Never to amount to anything! Forever going through life with a scarlet worm sewn to my chest. Oh the humiliation!
I couldn't even bear to look at my beautiful apple anymore. I was sick to my stomach the whole week about that worm. The worst was on Friday, when it was time for the "good apples" to go up to the treasure box to get their pencils. No pencil for me though. I would just sit in my seat and quietly die of shame. There is a happy ending though. Amazingly, Ms. Davis called my name to go up to the treasure box! I couldn't believe it! I was frozen in my seat! The kid behind me quickly (and loudly) pointed out that I couldn't go up; I had a worm, but Ms. Davis answered that because I was being very good now, she would let me get a pencil. Cheating, I know, but I believe that it was Ms. Davis's way of admitting that she may have come down a little hard on me for breaking a rule that technically wasn't ever made clear to us. What she just didn't understand though was that it was never about the pencils...it was about being proud of my apple, and that apple died a little bit the day I got the worm. Of course, as soon as I came in Monday morning, my apple was clean and fresh again along with everyone else's. But I never left my seat again without specifically being asked.
And to this day I still despise those little worm shaped packing peanuts.
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6/26/07
You like me! You really like me!
207 visitors! 207 real live visitors have made it to Quirky is a Compliment already for the month of June! (And June isn't even over yet!) 94 new people and 113 returning people have very thoughtfully fulfilled my goal of reaching at least 201 hits this month! Bless you, Quirky visitors! Whether you came here on purpose or you're that person who did a google search for "eye twitch+nutrisystem" and ended up here instead, (and if you are, I'm sorry, because it sounds like you're really having some issues) I'm glad you could make it. Of course, we'll have to beat June's total during July, so you'll have to keep coming back (and bring a friend!) but I'm sure that you're up for the challenge. (And pay no attention to the fact that this sounds like a pyramid scheme...your friends will thank you for introducing them to Quirky). Now, if you could just work on visiting AND leaving a comment...
Additional note: The final count for the end of June 2007 was 246 hits! Rock on wit'cho bad selves!
Additional note: The final count for the end of June 2007 was 246 hits! Rock on wit'cho bad selves!
6/26/07
Genes
There's an article in the New York Times (oooooh, be impressed that I'm so well read!) called The National Pastime by David Brooks. You can read the article here, but the gist is that people are now using sperm banks to shop for genetic superiority for their children. You can now custom build your offspring to be smart, beautiful, healthy, tall, and athletic. Does your family suffer from generations of pasty white skin? You can even shop profiles for "tannability", so your child will be able to bronze effortlessly. (I'm serious! Go read the article. Then read Huxley's Brave New World). Of course, with all this genetic shopping, you lose a lot of the diversity, like everyone under 5'9", or people with green eyes, or dark hair, or male pattern baldness. The good news is, your kid looks just like Brad Pitt. The bad news is, so does everybody else's. Sure, Brad looks good now, but he kinds loses his appeal when there's a million other Brads to choose from also. And according to these genetic ebays, there is quite the demand for blond haired, blue eyed, athletic people who are smart. (The Harvard newspaper runs ads for eggs from Harvard-attending females. The going sale price is $50,000). I have just one thing to say to that:
I've officially decided to put my sister up for sale.
Why settle for an egg when you could buy the entire sister? She's blond haired, blue eyed, athletic and at Harvard. (Of course, you'll also get her pasty white skin, and freakishly long toes, but buyer beware, ya know?) I'll even throw in her hubby, who also has blue eyes, is tall, and likes to cook. Both of them for one low price...that's a great package deal! Contact me with your bid price.
(I've gotta say though, as cool as The Stepher is, I wouldn't really want more than one of them around. Trust me on this one. I grew up with her once. Think twice before you want a house-full).
Another thing that bothers me about this whole genetic coding (other than it smacks of Hitler's whole "superior race" thing)? It totally takes the environment out of the equation. And personal drive and perseverance. There's nothing saying that your kid is going to Harvard if you went to Harvard. There's nothing saying that your kid will even want to finish the 4th grade. A whole lot of it is how you raise him, and the values that you as a parent instill in him, and his own personal dedication. And if those are the deciding factors to success, does it really matter what color his eyes are?
I say let nature make the choice. If you end up being, say, a blog writer with green eyes and dark hair and big feet, then so be it. Celebrate your quirkiness! Embrace it! It's important to be unique! That's why I've decided to take The Stepher officially off the market.
I've officially decided to put my sister up for sale.
Why settle for an egg when you could buy the entire sister? She's blond haired, blue eyed, athletic and at Harvard. (Of course, you'll also get her pasty white skin, and freakishly long toes, but buyer beware, ya know?) I'll even throw in her hubby, who also has blue eyes, is tall, and likes to cook. Both of them for one low price...that's a great package deal! Contact me with your bid price.
(I've gotta say though, as cool as The Stepher is, I wouldn't really want more than one of them around. Trust me on this one. I grew up with her once. Think twice before you want a house-full).
Another thing that bothers me about this whole genetic coding (other than it smacks of Hitler's whole "superior race" thing)? It totally takes the environment out of the equation. And personal drive and perseverance. There's nothing saying that your kid is going to Harvard if you went to Harvard. There's nothing saying that your kid will even want to finish the 4th grade. A whole lot of it is how you raise him, and the values that you as a parent instill in him, and his own personal dedication. And if those are the deciding factors to success, does it really matter what color his eyes are?
I say let nature make the choice. If you end up being, say, a blog writer with green eyes and dark hair and big feet, then so be it. Celebrate your quirkiness! Embrace it! It's important to be unique! That's why I've decided to take The Stepher officially off the market.
6/25/07
Baby Beavers!
Quirky here, coming to you once again with insider Knoxville Zoo information that you just won't find anywhere else!
At approximately 4pm on Saturday, Tony received a call that the new baby beavers in Kids Cove had been born! (Of course, he wasn't carrying his phone at the time, so he didn't actually listen to the message until Sunday morning, but as soon as we heard it we had to rush right over to see them).
Beatrice Beaver and Bevo Beaver are the proud new parents of 3 little baby beavers! The new additions effectively double the beaver population at the zoo. (You can snicker, but this is a family blog, so keep your beaver jokes to yourself please).
Anyway, the baby beavers are about the size of Beanie Babies, and kind of resemble small guinea pigs, except that their little fur sticks out all over, so think guinea pig with a 'fro. They are soooo cute! (As soon as I get pictures, I'll post them).
Currently, the entire Beaver family is locked in the den, which has been closed off to the public until the new arrivals have had a chance to settle in. (Zoo sources say that they expect the den door to be unlocked sometime this week to allow access to the water again. No word yet on when Beatrice Beaver will teach the new babies to swim).
Tony is very bummed now that he left the zoo. It's been a lifelong dream of his to perform a synchronized swimming beaver show. (Think of Shamu swimming in formation and leaping through hoops...now exchange Shamu with a family of beavers...now quit laughing at Tony's lifelong dreams). Alas, the zoo didn't find out that Bevo Beaver was really a boy beaver and that Beatrice really was a girl beaver until after Tony left the zoo, so the days of the Fantastic Tony's Traveling Beaver Show never materialized.
But you can still head by the zoo to see if you can spot the new babies learning to swim in a non-synchronized fashion.
At approximately 4pm on Saturday, Tony received a call that the new baby beavers in Kids Cove had been born! (Of course, he wasn't carrying his phone at the time, so he didn't actually listen to the message until Sunday morning, but as soon as we heard it we had to rush right over to see them).
Beatrice Beaver and Bevo Beaver are the proud new parents of 3 little baby beavers! The new additions effectively double the beaver population at the zoo. (You can snicker, but this is a family blog, so keep your beaver jokes to yourself please).
Anyway, the baby beavers are about the size of Beanie Babies, and kind of resemble small guinea pigs, except that their little fur sticks out all over, so think guinea pig with a 'fro. They are soooo cute! (As soon as I get pictures, I'll post them).
Currently, the entire Beaver family is locked in the den, which has been closed off to the public until the new arrivals have had a chance to settle in. (Zoo sources say that they expect the den door to be unlocked sometime this week to allow access to the water again. No word yet on when Beatrice Beaver will teach the new babies to swim).
Tony is very bummed now that he left the zoo. It's been a lifelong dream of his to perform a synchronized swimming beaver show. (Think of Shamu swimming in formation and leaping through hoops...now exchange Shamu with a family of beavers...now quit laughing at Tony's lifelong dreams). Alas, the zoo didn't find out that Bevo Beaver was really a boy beaver and that Beatrice really was a girl beaver until after Tony left the zoo, so the days of the Fantastic Tony's Traveling Beaver Show never materialized.
But you can still head by the zoo to see if you can spot the new babies learning to swim in a non-synchronized fashion.
6/24/07
Midnight Hole
With all the deck building and traveling to Atlanta and birthday parties lately, I haven't been able to join my hiking group in a while. There's nothing in the world, however, that would make me miss the trip to Midnight Hole.
The trail is officially called Mouse Creek Trail. It's an awesome little trail just on the North Carolina side of Cherokee National Park (about an hour's drive from downtown Knoxville via I40 East). It's an easy trail that is absolutely covered in butterflies. Like, enchanted forest kind of covered. Like, if you 
stand still AT ALL, the butterflies will land in your hand kind of covered. (It's also a horse trail, and apparently butterflies have a real thing for horse poo. Don't ask me why). If you like butterflies even a tiny bit, this is the trail for you. It was really awesome. That was cool thing number 1.
Cool thing number 2 is the waterfall that is roughly 2 miles from the start of the trail. It's not the biggest waterfall around, but the conveniently placed large boulders easily allow for hopping from one to the other for total water fall close-ups. Here we have Amy, Hikemaster Greg and Rich leaping around in true mountain goat form, euphoric from all the negative ions.
Cool thing number 3 is that all the mountain rhododendrons are just beginning to bloom. In another few weeks, this entire trail will be under a canopy of flowers. I managed to get a picture of some of the early bloomers. They're a mixture of pink and white, and trust me, they are EVERYWHERE!
And now, saving the best for last: The Midnight Hole! (This is only about a mile and a half up the trail, so we bypassed it to hit the waterfall first and then hit it again on the way back down). 
Midnight Hole is a swimming hole with crystal clear water in the shallows with a gradient "2000 Flushes" blue color in the deeper parts. (Making it cool thing number 4). It is fed by a cute little waterfall which cascades between two large boulders of the perfect-for-jumping-off-of variety. (Photo right: Midnight Hole's waterfall and leaping boulders. Photo below: Looking in the opposite direction, down the creek. Notice how clear the water is? I'm taking this picture in over knee-deep water).
Here's Cool thing number 5: The trees along the bank grow right down into the water, so their roots are washed clean from the constant flow of the water. Pretty neat pictures, no?
The trail is officially called Mouse Creek Trail. It's an awesome little trail just on the North Carolina side of Cherokee National Park (about an hour's drive from downtown Knoxville via I40 East). It's an easy trail that is absolutely covered in butterflies. Like, enchanted forest kind of covered. Like, if you 
stand still AT ALL, the butterflies will land in your hand kind of covered. (It's also a horse trail, and apparently butterflies have a real thing for horse poo. Don't ask me why). If you like butterflies even a tiny bit, this is the trail for you. It was really awesome. That was cool thing number 1. (Photo above left: A view of Mouse Creek Trail. Photo above right: 3 blue and black butterflies hover around some leaves. Don't worry, it's not horse poop).
Cool thing number 2 is the waterfall that is roughly 2 miles from the start of the trail. It's not the biggest waterfall around, but the conveniently placed large boulders easily allow for hopping from one to the other for total water fall close-ups. Here we have Amy, Hikemaster Greg and Rich leaping around in true mountain goat form, euphoric from all the negative ions. Cool thing number 3 is that all the mountain rhododendrons are just beginning to bloom. In another few weeks, this entire trail will be under a canopy of flowers. I managed to get a picture of some of the early bloomers. They're a mixture of pink and white, and trust me, they are EVERYWHERE!
And now, saving the best for last: The Midnight Hole! (This is only about a mile and a half up the trail, so we bypassed it to hit the waterfall first and then hit it again on the way back down). 
Midnight Hole is a swimming hole with crystal clear water in the shallows with a gradient "2000 Flushes" blue color in the deeper parts. (Making it cool thing number 4). It is fed by a cute little waterfall which cascades between two large boulders of the perfect-for-jumping-off-of variety. (Photo right: Midnight Hole's waterfall and leaping boulders. Photo below: Looking in the opposite direction, down the creek. Notice how clear the water is? I'm taking this picture in over knee-deep water).Here's Cool thing number 5: The trees along the bank grow right down into the water, so their roots are washed clean from the constant flow of the water. Pretty neat pictures, no? 
It's all well and good to see Midnight Hole, but you can't very well visit without going for a swim. The water was a hypothermia-inducing refreshing 50ish degrees, but once you lost feeling in your legs, you didn't notice the cold at all. Of course, the fastest way to get used to the cold is just to jump right in...from the top of one of the boulders that God obviously put there for just that purpose. Rich, Hikermaster Greg and I decided to take up the challenge. (Amy and Andrea opted to forgo the swimming expedition, but were more than happy to video the rest of us idiots adventurers as we conquered the boulders.)
For your viewing pleasure, we have video evidence of the excursion as recorded by Andrea and digitally remastered by Greg before uploading the whole deal on youtube for the world to witness. (You can't really tell it, but I am wearing a top). And just so you know, those rocks are a lot taller than what they look. If you watch closely, you see me standing on the top, looking over the edge. That prayer, by the way, was "Dear Lord, please don't let this be one of those times where an otherwise intelligent person ends up on the six o'clock news for doing something stupid, like jumping off a boulder into freezing water and cracking her skull open on submerged rocks below". Luckily for me though, that water is way way deep, so no one can touch the bottom even if they tried. (Even so, you'll notice that I brilliantly let Greg and Rich go first). Please also ignore the general doofus-ness that is me climbing the rope up the rock, and pinwheeling my arms, and holding my nose. (You know how I am about water up my nose!) Once you do it once however, the adrenaline warms you right up, and you can't wait to jump off again and again and again.
All in all, this hike is probably up in my top 3 favorite hikes. It's the perfect place to bring the whole family. Stop by the KFC at the exit before the one for Waterville Road (#451) and get a bucket of chicken to picnic with, bring your swimsuit and prepare to make a day of it. Mouse Creek Trail and Midnight Hole get two thumbs up in the Quirky Guide to Hiking.
6/23/07
More on Famous Dad...
Dad is in the news again! (I've written so many posts about his diving, I'm having to add a blog category to keep them all together).
Anyway, we found this in the local paper for last Sunday (he's the part after the soccer story):
News Sentinel Article
Yeah, that part that talks about an emailer calling him "a determined old geezer"? That's me. Am I the world's best publicity agent or what?
Over 30? For a fee, I am available to be your publicity agent too! Let the whole world know that you're a determined old geezer too!
Anyway, we found this in the local paper for last Sunday (he's the part after the soccer story):
News Sentinel Article
Yeah, that part that talks about an emailer calling him "a determined old geezer"? That's me. Am I the world's best publicity agent or what?
Over 30? For a fee, I am available to be your publicity agent too! Let the whole world know that you're a determined old geezer too!
6/22/07
Weedle Woes
I was eating a tube of raw cookie dough the other day (oh how I love you, cookie dough goodness!) when I remembered some old friends of my family that knew someone who died from Salmonella or Ebola or South African bird flu-itis from also eating some cookie dough raw. (You might think this might give me pause before eating more cookie dough, but you underestimate the power that the Pillsbury Dough Boy holds over me). Besides, you don't know the Weedles*.
The Weedles are a family that my family used to know before we moved here to good ol' K-town. I guess you could call them family friends. Anyway, no matter what you happened to be doing at any given time, the Weedles knew someone who suffered a tragic death from doing that very thing. Leaning back in your chair? The Weedles knew someone who did that and then fell over backwards, split their head open, and died! Petting a dog? The Weedles knew someone who leaned down to pet their dog and the dog bit them on the leg, and the leg got infected, and they died! Watching too much TV? The Weedles knew someone who was watching tv when their eyeballs melted right out of their sockets, and they died! And my personal favorite: Riding in the car with the window rolled down and your arm resting on the door? The Weedles knew someone whose arm got a little too far outside the door and when they ran a stop sign, their arm hit the sign and ripped right off! And then they bled to death, right there on the side of the road, and. They. Died! (I'm not sure if this was a warning against riding with your arm out of the open window, running a stop sign, or driving too close to the edge of the road, but the point is they died!) The Weedles knew people who died from everything from walking in a field (lightening strikes) to camping in the woods (bear attack) to chewing on ice (choked on it), to shopping in a grocery store (stock boy runs you over with line of shopping carts in the parking lot). Of course, the only thing that you can do while the Weedles are pronouncing your impending doom is to nod and say, "Yes, Ms. Weedle" and then look away while you roll your eyes (because the Weedles knew someone who died from rolling their eyes).
When you think about it though, the only deadly thing that all these people had in common was just being acquainted with the Weedles.
The Weedles are a family that my family used to know before we moved here to good ol' K-town. I guess you could call them family friends. Anyway, no matter what you happened to be doing at any given time, the Weedles knew someone who suffered a tragic death from doing that very thing. Leaning back in your chair? The Weedles knew someone who did that and then fell over backwards, split their head open, and died! Petting a dog? The Weedles knew someone who leaned down to pet their dog and the dog bit them on the leg, and the leg got infected, and they died! Watching too much TV? The Weedles knew someone who was watching tv when their eyeballs melted right out of their sockets, and they died! And my personal favorite: Riding in the car with the window rolled down and your arm resting on the door? The Weedles knew someone whose arm got a little too far outside the door and when they ran a stop sign, their arm hit the sign and ripped right off! And then they bled to death, right there on the side of the road, and. They. Died! (I'm not sure if this was a warning against riding with your arm out of the open window, running a stop sign, or driving too close to the edge of the road, but the point is they died!) The Weedles knew people who died from everything from walking in a field (lightening strikes) to camping in the woods (bear attack) to chewing on ice (choked on it), to shopping in a grocery store (stock boy runs you over with line of shopping carts in the parking lot). Of course, the only thing that you can do while the Weedles are pronouncing your impending doom is to nod and say, "Yes, Ms. Weedle" and then look away while you roll your eyes (because the Weedles knew someone who died from rolling their eyes).
When you think about it though, the only deadly thing that all these people had in common was just being acquainted with the Weedles.
6/21/07
Connection Detection
So I was sitting in class last night, practicing my telekinesis by mentally pushing the hour hand of the clock forward so that the professor would let us out of there early (the telekinesis still needs a little work, by the way), when I remembered that I needed to renew some of my library books. And because the school is blessedly wireless, I pulled out the ol' pda to quickly sign on to the library website and renew them. (Yes, yes, I know I was supposed to be paying attention to the professor, but I usually only remember to renew library books about 2 weeks after they're due and I already owe the library a bazillion-jillion dollars in late fees, so when that particular thought pops into my head, I've got to run with it right away or risk losing it forever). So anyway, I clicked on my little Internet Explorer and...nothing happened. I got a little message that said that I couldn't make the connection. Very strange. I try again. Same message. I know it's not a problem with the school's wireless because I've been watching the girl next to me play internet poker all through class (and you thought I was bad for just trying to renew some library books). Obviously it's a pda problem. That doesn't shock me because computers in any shape, form, or fashion hate me, and I've just been waiting for this one to turn on me too. You're shocked to discover this, of course, because my blog is so tech suave, but it's true. Computers hate me and they're always plotting and scheming, ready to ambush me and make me look bad at any moment. The IT department at work has a file on me that's about 10 inches thick, filled with all my "maladies". I've been through 5 work computers in less than 3 years (although the last one doesn't count because I had NOTHING to do with it catching on fire. It did that all by itself. I'm serious. I was just working away when suddenly the monitor started smoking. Tell me how computer spontaneous combustion is my fault?!? The IT people didn't listen though. It went into my permanent record anyway).
Anyway, back to the story. I got out my trusty PDA owner's manual to see what the problem was. I went through all the trouble-shooting instructions. I checked my wireless card, I checked my connection details, I checked my automatic wireless finder configuration thingie (and yes, that is the technical term). All fine. I click on Internet Explorer...no connection. It's really frustrating me. Library books are DUE darnit! I was just working myself into a nice fit of rage before calling the Dell customer service people in India to complain about their crap pda when something caught my eye. It's the little button on the side of my pda with a picture of a wireless tower on it. Oh sure, I know what that is. That's the button you push when you...want to turn the wireless function on. Seems that if you don't turn the wireless function ON, then you don't get a connection. See how tricky these computer thingies are? They want you to turn it on before it will work! I could feel proud of myself for figuring out the problem before involving the IT people and looking like a total idiot, but I figure that the tattle-tail pda has already emailed them a note about it and they're laughing at me anyway...right after they added it to my permanent record.
Anyway, back to the story. I got out my trusty PDA owner's manual to see what the problem was. I went through all the trouble-shooting instructions. I checked my wireless card, I checked my connection details, I checked my automatic wireless finder configuration thingie (and yes, that is the technical term). All fine. I click on Internet Explorer...no connection. It's really frustrating me. Library books are DUE darnit! I was just working myself into a nice fit of rage before calling the Dell customer service people in India to complain about their crap pda when something caught my eye. It's the little button on the side of my pda with a picture of a wireless tower on it. Oh sure, I know what that is. That's the button you push when you...want to turn the wireless function on. Seems that if you don't turn the wireless function ON, then you don't get a connection. See how tricky these computer thingies are? They want you to turn it on before it will work! I could feel proud of myself for figuring out the problem before involving the IT people and looking like a total idiot, but I figure that the tattle-tail pda has already emailed them a note about it and they're laughing at me anyway...right after they added it to my permanent record.
6/20/07
Blogging Carnival
So I was surfing around for some new blogs to follow since I'm addicted to pointless events in other people's lives the people I already read just can't write fast enough to satisfy my bloggy cravings, and I came across Don't Try This At Home, which I must say, is awesome. Anyway, she's doing stuff on her blog that I've never even heard of before, so I was all like, "Hey I gotta get me some of this!". She's got this Carnival blogging thing with auto-links and it was just like, "Whoa!" so I jumped onto the carnival bandwagon, even though I'm 2 weeks late. I'm number 171 in line, and I'm supposed to answer these questions about why I started blogging (like you care...you're just addicted to the blog candy like me), but bear with me because I want to see if this carnival thing works.
How did you start blogging?
When Stepher (the sister) went off to law school in the Great White North (Boston), we would email back and forth every day. I would tell her little tidbits about my day, and she would share them with her law school buddies. It wasn't until then that I realized that people who are not directly related to me might still find my writing interesting (family is required to think you're interesting, but strangers? That means you have at least some talent). So the blog was born, and it just kind of grew from there.
Did you intend to be a blog w/a big following? If so, how did you go about it?
Hahahaha! Oh girlfriend, I'm not a big blog. I only reached 200 hits last month. I'm small potatoes compared to some of these blogs. But it did get bigger than what I ever thought it would, so I guess that's something. I was so excited when I got my first international hit that I almost wet myself.
What do you hope to achieve or accomplish with your blog? Have you been successful? If not, do you have a plan to achieve those goals?
Goals? We don't need no stinkin' goals! This is just my little personal blog. The goal was to give me a place to write and keep my buddies informed about my daily hijinks. (Double word score for using the word hijinks!) Although now that you mention it, I have decided that it would be nice if each month the hit count grew a little higher than the month before. So far, that's happened. This month's goal: 201 people! Some comments might be nice too.
Has the focus of your blog changed since you started blogging? How?
At first it was to keep my sister informed about what was going on. Then a childhood buddy and I traded blog addresses so that we could keep up with each other's lives. It was really just for a handful of people that I knew. Kinda like those family newsletters that people include with their Christmas cards...just my way of keeping in touch. Then, people I didn't know started showing up to read, and I changed the focus to include them also. I don't know who they are, but we're all one big happy Internet family now.
What do you know now that you wish you'd known when you started?
I probably would have left out identifying marks like Tony's name and where I work. I haven't been stalked by the crazies or anything, but you never know. I would have at least used aliases. Yeah, that's it...Tony's real name isn't Tony. It has been changed to protect the innocent.
Do you make money with your blog?
You can do that? Why would anybody pay for a blog that they could read for free? I don't understand that, but if ya'll are willing to pay for these witty witty installments, then sign me up!
Does your immediate or extended family know about your blog? If so, do they read it? If not, why?
Some of them do, some of them don't. I'm not really sure because I just recently found out that more family knew about it than I thought.
It started with my sister, who reads it every day. (Or is supposed to!)
Then I told Tony about it, who read a little bit of it, but then quit. (Everybody's a critic!) I don't think he follows it now.
Mom and Dad will pop on every few months or so and read all the posts at once until they are caught up.
Granny and Pap-paw don't get on the Internet, but Mom printed out all 188 posts so that they could read them in hard copy. (That's family devotion right there!)
I have various aunts and uncles and cousins who read, but I'm not sure how often. They'll just mention a post every now and then to let me know that they read it.
I don't think any of the in-laws know about it. I haven't told them in case I want to use them as comic fodder some day. (I'd use them as comic fodder even if they did know about it...just ask my mom).
What two pieces of advice would you give to a new blogger?
Write every day. If you can't write every day, write at least every 2 or 3 days. The more you write, the more people will come back to read. I check the blogs I read every single day, hoping something new has been posted. If you let the blog go a month or two between posts, people will lose interest. The other piece of advice is just to have fun with it. You can have any personality you want on a blog. I'm not nearly this brilliant (or modest!) in person. It's like having a secret identity.
How did you start blogging?
When Stepher (the sister) went off to law school in the Great White North (Boston), we would email back and forth every day. I would tell her little tidbits about my day, and she would share them with her law school buddies. It wasn't until then that I realized that people who are not directly related to me might still find my writing interesting (family is required to think you're interesting, but strangers? That means you have at least some talent). So the blog was born, and it just kind of grew from there.
Did you intend to be a blog w/a big following? If so, how did you go about it?
Hahahaha! Oh girlfriend, I'm not a big blog. I only reached 200 hits last month. I'm small potatoes compared to some of these blogs. But it did get bigger than what I ever thought it would, so I guess that's something. I was so excited when I got my first international hit that I almost wet myself.
What do you hope to achieve or accomplish with your blog? Have you been successful? If not, do you have a plan to achieve those goals?
Goals? We don't need no stinkin' goals! This is just my little personal blog. The goal was to give me a place to write and keep my buddies informed about my daily hijinks. (Double word score for using the word hijinks!) Although now that you mention it, I have decided that it would be nice if each month the hit count grew a little higher than the month before. So far, that's happened. This month's goal: 201 people! Some comments might be nice too.
Has the focus of your blog changed since you started blogging? How?
At first it was to keep my sister informed about what was going on. Then a childhood buddy and I traded blog addresses so that we could keep up with each other's lives. It was really just for a handful of people that I knew. Kinda like those family newsletters that people include with their Christmas cards...just my way of keeping in touch. Then, people I didn't know started showing up to read, and I changed the focus to include them also. I don't know who they are, but we're all one big happy Internet family now.
What do you know now that you wish you'd known when you started?
I probably would have left out identifying marks like Tony's name and where I work. I haven't been stalked by the crazies or anything, but you never know. I would have at least used aliases. Yeah, that's it...Tony's real name isn't Tony. It has been changed to protect the innocent.
Do you make money with your blog?
You can do that? Why would anybody pay for a blog that they could read for free? I don't understand that, but if ya'll are willing to pay for these witty witty installments, then sign me up!
Does your immediate or extended family know about your blog? If so, do they read it? If not, why?
Some of them do, some of them don't. I'm not really sure because I just recently found out that more family knew about it than I thought.
It started with my sister, who reads it every day. (Or is supposed to!)
Then I told Tony about it, who read a little bit of it, but then quit. (Everybody's a critic!) I don't think he follows it now.
Mom and Dad will pop on every few months or so and read all the posts at once until they are caught up.
Granny and Pap-paw don't get on the Internet, but Mom printed out all 188 posts so that they could read them in hard copy. (That's family devotion right there!)
I have various aunts and uncles and cousins who read, but I'm not sure how often. They'll just mention a post every now and then to let me know that they read it.
I don't think any of the in-laws know about it. I haven't told them in case I want to use them as comic fodder some day. (I'd use them as comic fodder even if they did know about it...just ask my mom).
What two pieces of advice would you give to a new blogger?
Write every day. If you can't write every day, write at least every 2 or 3 days. The more you write, the more people will come back to read. I check the blogs I read every single day, hoping something new has been posted. If you let the blog go a month or two between posts, people will lose interest. The other piece of advice is just to have fun with it. You can have any personality you want on a blog. I'm not nearly this brilliant (or modest!) in person. It's like having a secret identity.
6/19/07
Tennessee Living
Since my little visitor map indicated that I have several out of state visitors, and even some international visits (howdy international visitors!) I wanted to take a moment to welcome you all (even if only virtually) to the great state of Tennessee. I have compiled a quick guide to Tennesseans (and the south in general) based on commonly asked questions.
"Do you live on a farm?"
I do not live on a farm. Yes, there are farms in Tennessee, but not nearly as many as you would think. I live in a subdivision. I have neighbors on either side of me. Sometimes while driving, I will pass a field of cows, but I think they belong to the University of Tennessee Ag campus, so they do not count. (UT keeps all kinds of animals, most of them under the heading, "students").
"No farm? Where do you keep your sheep and goats then?"
I do not have stock animals. (See "I do not live on a farm" above). I do not own chickens, or cows, or goats, or horses. I get my eggs from Kroger's, and the only goat I've been close to was in a petting zoo (and he was leering at the hem of my shirt with malice in his eyes, so I didn't hang around long). Not really overly fond of things with hooves.
"What's with the 'Bless your heart' thing?"
I am a fan of bless (your/their/his/her/etc) heart. Contrary to what anyone above the Mason-Dixon line will tell you though, this is not meant as a slight. This is said to express sympathy, even if you're just expressing sympathy that the person you are blessing is an irreversible idiot. (The difference between the North and the South is that Yankees will just tell you that you're an idiot. Southerners will tell you that you're an idiot, but we'll also pity you for it). Need to express sympathy? Try bless your heart. "His dad is in the hospital again, bless his heart" works just as well as "She's got the brains of a turnip, bless her heart". In cases of extreme or heartfelt sympathy, use "Bless your pea-pickin' heart". Pea-picking hearts always convey more sympathy. Not sure why.
"Do you have an outhouse?"
Um, no. You have no doubt gotten this impression from that tv show, The Beverly Hillbillies". May I just say that that is a grossly exaggerated stereo-type. We've had indoor plumbing for some time now. At least 2 years.
"Why aren't you wearing overalls and running around barefoot?"
The Beverly Hillbillies obviously did a number on you, bless your heart. Look around you. Whatever the people passing you are wearing, chances are that someone in Tennessee is wearing the same thing. Shoes included. Unless of course, we're at home, or in the yard, or at the beach. Shoes are optional then.
"Why do you talk so slowly"?
Yes, we probably talk a little slower than everybody else, but that doesn't mean that we think slowly too. We do this deliberately to make you drop your guard before we dazzle you with our brilliance and wit. We also tend to have what is often described as a drawl, and we also extend single word syllables into much longer words to express dismay. (My grandmother is the best at this. My grandfather's name is Ed, but when she says it, it comes out as "Ey-yy-yy-yy-d!" Never less than 5 syllables. The longer it is, the more shocked she is at whatever he did).
"What's with the word Howdy"?
It's just friendly. Think, did you ever see a movie where the bad guy jumped out and said "howdy" before blowing someone away? No they did not. (And if you know of a movie where they did, then just keep it to yourself because I'm trying to make a point here). Howdy is just a casual, friendly greeting. Howdy has no ulterior motives. Howdy is not snide or snooty. Howdy is genuine. Try it sometime. You'll make lots of friends.
"What is sweet tea?"
Oh. My. Goodness. Sweet tea is just the nectar of the gods! All you northerners don't know a thing about how tea is supposed to be. It's a drink and a dessert all in one. And it doesn't count if the tea is unsweet and you just dump some sugar packets into it. Nonononono. You have to add the sugar when the water is boiling so that it all dissolves. I find that a cup to a cup and a half of sugar per gallon of water works well. Then you add your tea bags and let it seep for a while. Then you pour the tea over ice cubes so that it's good and cold. (All tea is iced tea...if your tea is still hot, you haven't waited long enough before drinking it. The coldness really brings the sugar taste out). Tea is for hot summer days and parties and church socials and after mowing the lawn. You'd think you'd died and gone to heaven.
"What is UT?"
UT does NOT stand for Utah, or worse, the University of Texas (Even though they pretend to be us, right down to the orange). UT is the University of Tennessee. Period. The main campus is right here in Knoxville, but they've got other campuses like UT Chattanooga (UTC) or UT Martin (UTM) and a space institute somewhere, but first and foremost, UT means Knoxville. The colors are orange and white, and mascot is the Volunteer, and the favorite pastimes are football and women's basketball.
So there you go, a crash course in East Tennessean. For homework, repeat the following phrase:
Howdy! Would you like some sweet tea while we watch UT destroy Florida (bless their hearts)?
With enough practice, you'll be ready to visit the great state of Tennessee. And we'll welcome you, because we're decent folk, and you can't help the fact that you weren't born here in the first place. Bless your heart.
"Do you live on a farm?"
I do not live on a farm. Yes, there are farms in Tennessee, but not nearly as many as you would think. I live in a subdivision. I have neighbors on either side of me. Sometimes while driving, I will pass a field of cows, but I think they belong to the University of Tennessee Ag campus, so they do not count. (UT keeps all kinds of animals, most of them under the heading, "students").
"No farm? Where do you keep your sheep and goats then?"
I do not have stock animals. (See "I do not live on a farm" above). I do not own chickens, or cows, or goats, or horses. I get my eggs from Kroger's, and the only goat I've been close to was in a petting zoo (and he was leering at the hem of my shirt with malice in his eyes, so I didn't hang around long). Not really overly fond of things with hooves.
"What's with the 'Bless your heart' thing?"
I am a fan of bless (your/their/his/her/etc) heart. Contrary to what anyone above the Mason-Dixon line will tell you though, this is not meant as a slight. This is said to express sympathy, even if you're just expressing sympathy that the person you are blessing is an irreversible idiot. (The difference between the North and the South is that Yankees will just tell you that you're an idiot. Southerners will tell you that you're an idiot, but we'll also pity you for it). Need to express sympathy? Try bless your heart. "His dad is in the hospital again, bless his heart" works just as well as "She's got the brains of a turnip, bless her heart". In cases of extreme or heartfelt sympathy, use "Bless your pea-pickin' heart". Pea-picking hearts always convey more sympathy. Not sure why.
"Do you have an outhouse?"
Um, no. You have no doubt gotten this impression from that tv show, The Beverly Hillbillies". May I just say that that is a grossly exaggerated stereo-type. We've had indoor plumbing for some time now. At least 2 years.
"Why aren't you wearing overalls and running around barefoot?"
The Beverly Hillbillies obviously did a number on you, bless your heart. Look around you. Whatever the people passing you are wearing, chances are that someone in Tennessee is wearing the same thing. Shoes included. Unless of course, we're at home, or in the yard, or at the beach. Shoes are optional then.
"Why do you talk so slowly"?
Yes, we probably talk a little slower than everybody else, but that doesn't mean that we think slowly too. We do this deliberately to make you drop your guard before we dazzle you with our brilliance and wit. We also tend to have what is often described as a drawl, and we also extend single word syllables into much longer words to express dismay. (My grandmother is the best at this. My grandfather's name is Ed, but when she says it, it comes out as "Ey-yy-yy-yy-d!" Never less than 5 syllables. The longer it is, the more shocked she is at whatever he did).
"What's with the word Howdy"?
It's just friendly. Think, did you ever see a movie where the bad guy jumped out and said "howdy" before blowing someone away? No they did not. (And if you know of a movie where they did, then just keep it to yourself because I'm trying to make a point here). Howdy is just a casual, friendly greeting. Howdy has no ulterior motives. Howdy is not snide or snooty. Howdy is genuine. Try it sometime. You'll make lots of friends.
"What is sweet tea?"
Oh. My. Goodness. Sweet tea is just the nectar of the gods! All you northerners don't know a thing about how tea is supposed to be. It's a drink and a dessert all in one. And it doesn't count if the tea is unsweet and you just dump some sugar packets into it. Nonononono. You have to add the sugar when the water is boiling so that it all dissolves. I find that a cup to a cup and a half of sugar per gallon of water works well. Then you add your tea bags and let it seep for a while. Then you pour the tea over ice cubes so that it's good and cold. (All tea is iced tea...if your tea is still hot, you haven't waited long enough before drinking it. The coldness really brings the sugar taste out). Tea is for hot summer days and parties and church socials and after mowing the lawn. You'd think you'd died and gone to heaven.
"What is UT?"
UT does NOT stand for Utah, or worse, the University of Texas (Even though they pretend to be us, right down to the orange). UT is the University of Tennessee. Period. The main campus is right here in Knoxville, but they've got other campuses like UT Chattanooga (UTC) or UT Martin (UTM) and a space institute somewhere, but first and foremost, UT means Knoxville. The colors are orange and white, and mascot is the Volunteer, and the favorite pastimes are football and women's basketball.
So there you go, a crash course in East Tennessean. For homework, repeat the following phrase:
Howdy! Would you like some sweet tea while we watch UT destroy Florida (bless their hearts)?
With enough practice, you'll be ready to visit the great state of Tennessee. And we'll welcome you, because we're decent folk, and you can't help the fact that you weren't born here in the first place. Bless your heart.