tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31868845342841401362024-03-13T13:05:26.782-03:00my happy place“Being happy doesn't mean that everything is perfect. It means that you've decided to look beyond the imperfections.”Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.comBlogger1191125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-53197276653865977202018-06-29T11:09:00.001-03:002018-06-29T11:09:56.729-03:00*knock knock*...anyone home?<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7fjXVryIdU4/WzY6P25SMpI/AAAAAAAADzY/jif4kT8dTUIH2HpBJ9EMYXHd96yTYyn5ACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_5831.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="319" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7fjXVryIdU4/WzY6P25SMpI/AAAAAAAADzY/jif4kT8dTUIH2HpBJ9EMYXHd96yTYyn5ACLcBGAs/s320/IMG_5831.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Life is all about a good balance.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
*waves* ....um....hello!? Is anyone still out there?<br />
<br />
Better question...does anyone even blog anymore?!?<br />
<br />
I used to spend so many hours pouring over this blog, and catching up with a very long list of other blogs. Admittedly, I haven't kept up with my blog list, so I'm doubtful there's anyone out there still coming to this one. If you read this, pop me a comment to say hello and let me know where you're from, and what brought you here. Maybe I'll dust this 'ol thing off and get back to posting. Maybe I'll send it to a cyber grave and leave well enough alone.<br />
<br />
****<br />
<br />
The picture I've included today is one I took myself last summer. I've been very much into collecting sea glass. The adventure of the hunt itself to find the sea treasures is one thing, but the peace and solitude that comes with digging my toes into the sand and hearing the sound of the roaring waves is the biggest part of why I do it. The idea of how something that once had razor-sharp edges eventually, with enough time and patience, gets smoothed over and softened is a true testament that if one is strong enough to withstand the waves, one will eventually come out better for it in the end. Wherever you are, I hope you're standing tall in your own waves.<br />
<br />
~ peace.<br />
<br />Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-78397327229187166972015-06-23T20:37:00.001-03:002015-06-23T20:37:59.747-03:00in dreamsRemember I posted a little while ago about signs from beyond? There are many people who believe that our loved ones return to periodically inhabit wild life such as birds or the like or to leave things like feathers or dimes in random places for us to find. I've seen a number of dimes around the house, but as dear Christopher is always leaving a little "trail" as he moves about the house, I can't be altogether sure that the dimes I'm finding are not just spare change that he's missed putting in his piggy bank. However, another 'sign' known to happen is for the loved one to speak in one's dreams, or even be the voice that you hear in your head when you're thinking of something or struggling with a decision. Prior to losing Dad, I was always more skeptical of any of these things, and I could easily find a more scientific explanation for 'unknown' happenings. I have to admit, however, that I am now a lot more open to other possibilities, and have caught myself asking him to leave me a sign.<br />
<br />
A few weeks ago I woke up crying. Crying from the dream that I had just had. It was one of those lazy Saturday mornings when you wake up, look at the time on the alarm clock, consider getting up but then roll over and go back to sleep again. A few times. And in between each perusal of the clock, dreaming in broken intervals. In my last broken dream, there were remote control aircraft <i>every</i>where. They were buzzing around my head, zooming in and out, back and forth. I was getting more and more irritated by the second. I walked down the hallway, glancing into a bedroom where I found Dad, sitting on the edge of the bed, manning every one of the aircraft controls. He had a controller in each hand, one balancing in the crook of his elbow, shoulder and one in his lap. He looked up at me, glasses down on his nose, with a great big smile on his face, and said, "<i>Hey babe! I'm just stopping in to let you know that I'm doing okay!"</i><br />
<br />
Thank you, Dad. I needed that. More than you know. Happy belated Father's Day in Heaven...xo. Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-5623073472009472852015-05-09T12:58:00.001-03:002015-05-09T19:45:14.446-03:00I want a change...<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sW_MehxQrdQ/VUUBUTwcWFI/AAAAAAAADsY/7Xlo1mS3qnc/s1600/change.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sW_MehxQrdQ/VUUBUTwcWFI/AAAAAAAADsY/7Xlo1mS3qnc/s1600/change.jpg" width="320" /></a>I graduated from university with a degree in English. I've always enjoyed writing, and I pride myself on having a keen eye for finding grammatical errors and spelling mistakes. I started this blog to help keep my writing skills up. To this day, I will sometimes read old posts and if I find an error I missed it makes me crazy and I fix it immediately - not that anyone else will likely see it. I was thrilled when Facebook came out with the 'edit' option for posts so errors there could be fixed, too. And yes, maaaaybe I'm slightly anal and on the verge of OCD, and ok, yeah, maybe a slight perfectionist. Surely to God I could put those qualities to work for me though, right?<br />
<br />
As of late, I've been really thinking hard about the path my life has taken. How I've stayed in a job that I feel doesn't allow me any type of personal growth whatsoever because it merely keeps a roof over our head and food on the table (but, at what cost?). As I age, I'm routinely being reminded of the fragility of life and how quickly it can be pulled out from underneath us and I have to wonder if I need some change - some big change - in my life. Change scares the shit out of me though. Sometimes the normal, mundane, boring routine is a comfort. Branching out into the unknown can lead to failure. But, it, too, could lead to the best life has to offer, right? So, what am I waiting for?<br />
<br />
Good question.<br />
<br />
The thing is, I'm not sure how to make a change. Where do I start? I would love to put my English degree to work for me. Hell, if I could get paid to blog, I'd be thrilled. Last night, I attended a writing workshop. It was hosted by a local
writing/editing duo who have celebrated many successes together doing
what they love - writing and editing. They're an inspiration. I went
away from that workshop with a smile on my face and a new hope that
maybe, just maybe, some day I'll be comfortable leaving the constraints
of the office world to freelance at what I love to do. If there are any
head hunters crawling through the interwebs searching for a sometimes
witty (?), grammar-friendly individual who wants to write, or even edit
or proofread, please, please, please get in touch :).<br />
<br />
A big, <b>huge</b> shout-out to <a href="http://jaimeleemann.com/blog/">Jaime</a> and <a href="http://christinegordonmanley.com/">Christine</a> at <a href="http://manleymannmedia.com/">Manley Mann Media</a> for pointing out to me that there IS more to life than a call center world. You have no idea how much you've helped me!Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-88193527383769842352015-03-09T22:00:00.002-03:002015-03-09T22:00:40.778-03:00You've gotta give me a sign...Up until we lost Dad I hadn't really given much thought to messages 'from beyond'. In fact, I'd likely have been one of the ones trying to find a scientific explanation for the 'signs'. Now, I want to believe - have to believe - that there's more to 'life' than our time here on Earth. I have to believe that someday, on some other plane or level, I will be reunited with Dad, and those others who have left this Earth too soon. I wish for 'signs'; I look for signs. Sometimes, I think I wish too hard and I push them away. I've had a few though...<br />
<ul>
<li>Back in 2002 I worked at Watts Communications (just another call center). During a back-shift rotation I had gone to bed to take a nap ahead of having to start a week of midnight to 8am shifts. I lived with Tanya at the time. I felt someone poking my leg to wake me up. Upon waking I heard Tanya in the other room, blow drying her hair. No one else was there. And I can say with one hundred percent certainty that it was not a part of a dream. I have always taken that as a sign from Dad that he was okay. </li>
<li>Just after Dad passed, I was over at Mom's, and we were going through some old home movies that he had converted to VHS. I was sitting on the floor by the TV. On the wall in the living room (above my head where I was sitting) is an old clock that Mom & Dad got when they lived in Europe. It has weighted brass balls (exactly like the one pictured here: <a href="http://www.ebay.com/itm/Vintage-Howard-Miller-funky-wall-clock-time-strike-1970s-brass-ball-weights-/311012621737?pt=LH_DefaultDomain_0&hash=item4869cbfda9">http://www.ebay.com/itm/Vintage-Howard-Miller-funky-wall-clock-time-strike-1970s-brass-ball-weights-/311012621737?pt=LH_DefaultDomain_0&hash=item4869cbfda9</a>). One of those balls shifted and I must have jumped two feet off the floor. Despite Mom insisting that the ball hadn't been on it's anchor properly from the last time the clock was wound, I'm certain it was Dad telling us that he's always "there" - and, always the jokester, he'd definitely have gotten a kick over giving me a scare.</li>
<li>A few years ago, just around Christmas I was sitting on the couch. Zoe was in my lap, and Bosco was on the loveseat. Chris was in his office. The heat wasn't on (ie, no forced air blowing up from the vent behind the couch), and it being December, there was no window open, of course. I sat watching tv, and felt the gentlest tug on my hair - as though someone was running their fingers through it. Some might have gotten chills or shivers. I felt the calmest, warmest feeling wash over me. He loved Christmas so much. I know it was my Christmas hug from him. No one can tell me different...</li>
</ul>
Have you gotten any "signs" from 'beyond'? Tell me about them! We are not alone - I came across this article today, and I absolutely love it: <a href="http://thechronicleherald.ca/novascotia/1273460-dimes-from-heaven-women-find-coins-after-loved-ones%E2%80%99-deaths">http://thechronicleherald.ca/novascotia/1273460-dimes-from-heaven-women-find-coins-after-loved-ones%E2%80%99-deaths</a>.<br />
<br />
I'm sure there have been a few random dimes that have crossed my path that I didn't think much of...from now on, I'm going to be paying careful attention. If he realized how grim the bank funds were he'd be tossing those suckers at me like a boss. C'mon already Dad, toss a few down. Love you, and miss you...xoxo.Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-14631946247644232882014-09-09T21:12:00.000-03:002014-09-09T21:12:30.861-03:00No I didn't. Yes you did.The other day Chris remarked to me, <i>"<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0478311/">Knocked Up </a>is on Netflix. I started watching it this morning. It's pretty good!" </i><br />
<br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-izYugwq1CSw/VA-VK3eNGII/AAAAAAAADpM/Ucu3CMWPGrQ/s1600/yes-you-did-yes-you-did.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-izYugwq1CSw/VA-VK3eNGII/AAAAAAAADpM/Ucu3CMWPGrQ/s1600/yes-you-did-yes-you-did.jpg" height="222" width="320" /></a>I remarked, <i>"You've seen it". </i><br />
<br />
<i>"No, I didn't"</i>, he replied.<br />
<br />
<i>"Yes, you did"</i>, I insisted. <br />
<br />
<i>"No"</i>.<br />
<br />
<i>"Yes".</i><br />
<br />
<i>"No"</i>.<br />
<br />
<i>"Yes. We went to the drive-in. I probably have the stub somewhere",</i> I said. <br />
<br />
Not long after, my Facebook notifier announced that Chris had updated his status: <i>"I'm watching Knocked Up on Netflix. I think it's a pretty funny movie - I'm pretty sure I haven't seen it before. <a class="profileLink" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=576840315" href="https://www.facebook.com/ambermanuel">Amber</a> says we saw it at the drive in but no part of this movie is familiar to me. I think she went with the girls to the theater. I think she's currently in the other room searching for the ticket stub
to prove me wrong. Did you see Knocked Up with Amber? Or am I destined
to be wrong?" </i><br />
<br />
A futile search later, I was left empty-handed. I know there's a stub somewhere. During my search he poked his head in the room. A cocky smirk on his face, wondering how I was getting along - certain I was looking for a stub that "didn't exist". A shout out to my friend and loyal blog follower, Jodi, who commented that perhaps I'd blogged it. Brilliant!! I start by using the handy-dandy "search" option on the blog. Nothing. Crap. I KNEW I saw it just after it was released to theatres. Being together so frickin' long of course it <i>had</i> to be with Chris, right? Then I thought, well, I suppose, maaaaybe it could have been another guy. So I google the year the movie was released. 2007. Ok, well it had to be Chris. Confirmed. I knew it was the drive-in, so I started in the month of July searching the archives, and lo and behold my boring mundane update post from July 22 had the key I was looking for: <b>http://amber-myhappyplace.blogspot.ca/2007/07/happy-sunny-finally-sunday-all-windows.html</b><br />
<br />
Saved by the blog! Do you know he had the audacity to suggest I might have typed that up and pretended it was written in 2007? :O Good thing he's cute! So in addition to proving my undoubted rightness, I've also come to the conclusion of a very important discovery: I should get back to blogging - it might help me win a few more arguments in the future!Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-90542656678845146832014-06-21T13:03:00.002-03:002014-06-21T13:03:57.225-03:00Cat Saturday<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="710" scrolling="no" src="//instagram.com/p/pgvACcIqo_/embed/" width="612"></iframe><br />
<br />
See? Watching Zoe clean herself is more exciting that watching this season of the Bachelorette.<br />
<br />
For my boring life in pictures, my IG profile is open.Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-61901348655318547872014-06-21T13:00:00.002-03:002014-06-21T13:00:22.177-03:00I just don't think I can do itTo anyone that might have happened upon my blog in search of Bachelor/Bachelorette highlights, albeit, late ones, I apologize. To those who read this blog for everything <i>but</i> Bachelor/Bachelorette highlights, come back, because I am going to try to post more often about my actual life.<br />
<br />
I still don't feel a bit guilty that Juan Pablo didn't get any blog time. He's still a douche. Upon a new season again, I started to give the rundown of the Andi season. I have a post started in drafts and I think we're now on episode 4? I just can't bring myself to do it. My heart's not in it. I don't have any pull by any of the guys, save one. And well, Andi... Andi clean drives me batshit crazy. I thought I liked her in JP's season. I'm guessing now that JP's over-the-top douchebaggery made anyone else look better? Now - having her be the 'star', I just wanna backhand her. Her overuse of <i>"Ya'll"</i> (told ya didn't I?), and <i>"Stop!!" </i>make me wanna punch things. And that Grumpy Cat look she gets on her face when she's concentrating on something someone is saying to her, with the quick and frequent, "<i>Mmm hmms"</i>... And don't get me STARTED on the whining and the hormonal crying spasms.<br />
<br />
Sorry. I just can't do it. I don't care who she ends up with. I hope she ends up happy, because I truly don't wish anyone any ill will. I'm just not sure I can give the show the attention it deserves to pop out a highlight reel on a weekly basis. Maybe this is a sign that I oughta dust off this blog for what I had originally intended it to be - an outlet to improve my writing skills; a journal of sorts to remember some of the important times in my life that is passing me by so quickly? <br />
<br />
Back to go try to finish off this episode. I've paused it and done so many things in between, including instagramming my cat, that I may never get through it.<br />
<br />
Happy Saturday :)Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-68555866968010113722014-06-10T23:03:00.002-03:002014-06-11T07:27:14.592-03:00A loss so profound...<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A7uNYhG5CYU/U5eZyiQ9zQI/AAAAAAAADnw/12Yg3OKb5Nc/s1600/rcmp2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A7uNYhG5CYU/U5eZyiQ9zQI/AAAAAAAADnw/12Yg3OKb5Nc/s1600/rcmp2.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a>Last Thursday morning, I walked toward my car to go to work and was suddenly filled with an overwhelming sadness as I thought about how easy it is to take for granted the freedom we have with the simplest of things such as being able to leave the house and go about daily life without fear, or looking over one's shoulder. I thought about my neighbors next door in Moncton who were, at the time, locked into their houses with strict instructions to stay inside, doors and windows locked, and retreat to their basements for safety. A manhunt was ongoing to locate, and capture, an individual who had opened fire in a residential area. His target was the police. And he succeeded in his quest - slaying 3 members, and injuring 2 more. The shooter managed to evade capture, and heighten fear, for nearly 30
hours until he was successfully and quietly detained by law enforcement without
further injury to anyone else. I'm not going to talk about the shooter. I'm not going to mention his name. I'm not going to glorify him in any way, shape, or form. Suffice it to say he will get his comeuppance. And it will be just. <br />
<br />
After 30 hours the fear that had gripped a community, a province, a region, was replaced by unimaginable grief and sadness felt by an entire country. Fallen, in the line of duty, were three members of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Three fathers. Three sons. Three husbands. Three friends. Three heroes...murdered at the exact moment they were running in to protect...<br />
<br />
I <i>will</i> name them: <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NLQUjKsuRCY/U5eVeOD0ZPI/AAAAAAAADno/IpzLtXssINQ/s1600/moncton-rcmp-larche-ross-gevaud.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NLQUjKsuRCY/U5eVeOD0ZPI/AAAAAAAADno/IpzLtXssINQ/s1600/moncton-rcmp-larche-ross-gevaud.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
(L-R)<br />
Cst. Douglas James Larche, 40, married, and father to 3 girls, ages 4, 8 & 9 years. <br />
Cst. Dave Ross, 32, married, father to 1 1/2 year old son, and another baby due at the end of the summer. <br />
Cst. Fabrice Georges Gevaudan, 45, married, stepfather to an 8 year old girl.<br />
<br />
... <br />
<br />
Words cannot convey the heaviness in my heart that I feel for the families and friends of these young men. These brave individuals paid the ultimate sacrifice. They volunteered their lives to serve and protect - to walk into the line of fire when the rest of the world runs away in fear. Their loss signifies that the people who do protect our streets, and our cities and towns are not superhuman. They are not invincible. And now, they are just a memory. Six children will grow up in a home without a father. Three wives will sleep beside an empty space where their husband used to lay. Countless friends and comrades will have a gap in their social circle that will never close again.<br />
<br />
To the brave men and women who protect our cities, thank you. To the family, friends, and comrades of the fallen officers, my deepest and most sincerest of condolences. In the words of, Asst Commissioner Roger Brown, "<i>Cst. Gevaudan; Cst. Ross; and, Cst. Larche, to your post. Dismissed."</i> <br />
<br />
Rest in peace.<br />
<br />
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Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-41155994044113974772014-05-27T21:05:00.002-03:002014-05-28T07:26:43.809-03:00Roses, strippers and drunken debachery: not my weekend, the Bacherlorette, of course<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rPUOih2xVOI/U4UhGgtha-I/AAAAAAAADm8/hE5R5hsGcb8/s1600/bachelorette.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rPUOih2xVOI/U4UhGgtha-I/AAAAAAAADm8/hE5R5hsGcb8/s1600/bachelorette.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a>A return to blogging....and the subject of which? Why, the <a href="http://abc.go.com/shows/the-bachelorette">Bachelorette</a>, of course ;). I didn't bother blogging about last season's Bachelor, because let's face it, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Juan_Pablo_Galavis">Juan Pablo</a> is a complete and utter douche. And, I just couldn't bring myself to commemorate a damn thing about that season, even if it was to make fun of him on a weekly basis. Eeee's ok, right? ;)<br />
<br />
So Andi Dorfman, the smart girl who caught on to JP's douche-baggery is our next Bachelorette. I liked her on JP's season, and look forward to what this season has in store. Having seen the first 2 episodes, her over-use of "ya'll" might be my biggest pick so far. And maybe her gown choice. Not that they're not beautiful (the first night's pale pink/silver bedazzled one was stunning) - but, she obviously feels uncomfortable in them the way she carries herself. Honey, if you don't want your boobs to fall out, choose one with a slightly higher neckline, perhaps? *shrug*. Oh, and perhaps her veer to the over-dramatic a few episodes in, too. So the guy had a little too much to drink. Kick him out if it offends you. Ask the producers to reduce the unending flow of available liquor. But, freak out, in tears, wondering,<i> "What's going on??"</i>, and accuse them all of not having the right intentions for being there? Really? I thought you were a smart, professional woman of class? Hmm. Maybe you'll have to keep trying to convince me. <br />
<br />
So it's still early, but so far, I took a liking to the firefighter (why is he gone already, Andi? <i>Why?</i>), the farmer, and I think that little Nick V. fella is just too cute for words. The ex-pro basketball player gives me the skeevies and I don't trust him; there's an inner snake just dying to get out. Cody, the beefy personal trainer reminds me of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CA572hAHuOY&feature=kp">Jeff Dunham's Bubba J</a>. And seriously, what the <i>eff</i> is a pantapreneur?? <a href="http://www.wetpaint.com/the-bachelorette/chris-bukowski">Chris Bukowski's attempt</a> to gain access to the house, and Andi's heart, was laughable. I'm glad he was ball-busted from the start. WTF, fella? Go get a life, already. You're a loser.<br />
<br />
And, I would be remiss if I didn't mention the person this season is dedicated to. <a href="http://gowitheric.com/world-travel-record/eric-jonathan-hill/">Eric Hill</a>, who sadly passed away shortly after filming of the season ceased, was an early favourite for women everywhere, no doubt. His untimely passing makes this season so heart-breaking. I think the show handled what happened in a tasteful fashion - but I cannot fathom what it must be like to those closest to him, watching the show. Rest in peace, Eric, your candle was snuffed all too early....<br />
<br />
So. Hi. Thanks for reading. Tell me - are you watching, too? Who's your favourite? Or your favourite to hate? <br />
<br />Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-89689521609985436202013-09-14T12:38:00.002-03:002013-09-14T12:38:28.225-03:00Along came the spiders...It started out like any other Friday. I was working the late shift that day, but despite the later start time, I, as usual, left it to the very last second to leave the house. Upon reaching the driver door I noticed a cluster of evil perched between the driverside mirror and the door itself. I was too panicked to take a photo with my phone so the googled image here will have to be enough of a descriptor for you:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uOpc4rCQlOA/UjR6pOdpc9I/AAAAAAAADig/JqqIIfrh9Wg/s1600/babyspidernest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"></a><br /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cluster of evil:</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uOpc4rCQlOA/UjR6pOdpc9I/AAAAAAAADik/Undaqcu92WY/s1600/babyspidernest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uOpc4rCQlOA/UjR6pOdpc9I/AAAAAAAADik/Undaqcu92WY/s320/babyspidernest.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
A baby spider, on its own isn't overly threatening. No. But when you get seventy-billion in a cluster like that, the threat grows exponentially. All I could think about was ridding the car of the threat. I quickly rummaged around in my purse for something to help...nothing. I carefully opened the door and grabbed a napkin. Working quickly, I separated the nest from the car, threw the napkin down to the pavement with excessive force, and stomped furiously on it. Some attempted to escape, as I could see little things moving all around the napkin and by my foot, and to my horror: ON MY PERSON. Yes, there was also a number of them walking up my pant leg!! Using the opposite foot I tried to dispose of the threat. I shimmied around and batted at my leg with my other foot. Upon nearly losing balance, I then opted to remove my sandal to actually beat them off me. Redneck Highland jig, several shrieks, and sandal-beating later, I felt satisfied that I ridded my person of the threat and then got in the car (of course my brain still felt them crawling; all over me, I could feel them all.over.me.). <br />
<br />
Secure in the safety of the vehicle, I noticed that my initial napkin scoop hadn't really finished the job. There were several all over the window. Now what I'm about to tell you is VERY IMPORTANT. Take heed. Learn my lesson. If you find yourself in the middle of a similar predicament, DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT, OPEN THE WINDOW! The fact that I'd just had a family of baby arachnids on my person no doubtedly hampered with all reason and sensibility because I opened it. I opened the god-damned window. Suddenly, a whole new crop of baby spiders were now crawling INSIDE MY CAR, down the window and down the door, trying to get back to my person! I shrieked, flew the door open and then grabbed my sandal to do my best at slamming and bamming them into smithereens. When the sandal stopped working, I grabbed a handful of napkins to finish the job (the only good thing about them being baby spiders is they were too small to be juicy. And, God bless the drive-thru staff at Dairy Queen for their heavy napkin hand).<br />
<br />
Fighting the urge to run back in the house to shower I had to go to work; time was ticking and I would be lucky at this point if I even made it there on time. Parked, I then enlist the help of another night shift arriver to give me a once-over. She said she didn't see any. I still felt them crawling. <br />
<br />
I made it to work on time, and I got through my shift despite ending it with a few less layers of skin from the scratching. And only 1 more baby spider had to be sacrificed from the inside of my car that night. I haven't yet quite figured out a new plan of attack if I'm faced with a future car nest. Other than never, ever opening the window again. Ever.Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-9191082426819633592013-09-14T11:59:00.001-03:002015-03-09T20:43:12.267-03:00...climbed up the waterspout...Might I just add that NOT long after the sink spider incident, I discovered the following ginormous creature in the bathtub!<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P-NbnC2I69E/UjR18pc72nI/AAAAAAAADiU/IhdaQshYw4g/s1600/sinkspider.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P-NbnC2I69E/UjR18pc72nI/AAAAAAAADiU/IhdaQshYw4g/s320/sinkspider.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Proof to my theory that those icky, disgusting things live in the deep, dark depths of the drain pipes. Chris wasn't home when it reared its girthy frame so I knew I was on my own. I DID, however, attempt to coerce Bosco to be the saviour of the day. He and Zoe both do enjoy playing with the odd creepy crawly. As Zoe's *ahem* stature isn't condusive to quick-play, Bosco won the choice in cat, and I thought I'd likely be home free. I grab him, coax him into the tub, asking him to,<i> "Get that spider for Mummy!! Get that spider!!"</i>. Bosco immediately made an extremely hasty retreat from the tub as fast as he left my arms. It was as if I'd introduced him to the devil himself. Not wanting to take the chance on another fail, I opted out of grabbing Zoe from her slumber, and instead grabbed the nearly-full 1.5L bottle of shampoo and went to work. The death was fairly quick, but I did mush a few extra heaves at it with the bottle. When I was convinced the spider could not reincarnate I then took an empty toilet paper tube and flicked him from the bottom of the shampoo bottle into the waiting toilet bowl and sent him a-flush. You can never be too sure, ya know.Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-31681875405951549312013-09-13T13:15:00.002-03:002013-09-13T18:56:01.563-03:00the itsy, bitsy...Though we're smack dab in the middle of Tropical Storm Gabrielle and the high humidity that's accompanying it, there's no question that summer has bid us it's untimely adieu. In retrospect I have a few tales to tell about one of the few unsavory things that come along with summer. Namely bugs. Nasty, creepy, crawly, icky, disgusting bugs!<br />
<br />
I sat on the living room couch one morning, sipping on my coffee and watching the news when Chris very calmly said, <i>"Amber? What would you say if I told you that I saw the biggest spider that I've ever seen in my life?"</i>. I returned that with a, "<i>I'd say KILL IT!</i>", followed by a narrowed-eyed,<i> "Where?!?!"</i>. A very calm, <i>"Right here. In the sink</i>", and he points, and actually steps back a little. I grow slightly more panicked at this point, adding a bit of a begging tone to my, <i>"Kiiiillll it!!</i>". Chris' suggestion to end the spider's existence in our kitchen sink? Running hot water and drowning him.<br />
<br />
Well no. That just will NOT DO. Number 1, there's no way you can get the hot water to reach temperatures high enough to cause life-ending scalds to the thing. Number 2, how do we NOT know that the little effer didn't climb up the drain hole in the first place, thus proving it's ability to withstand the hottest of our hot water temperatures, and also cementing the fact that they CAN SWIM. There was no way I could take the risk that he could simply be offered a flume ride down to its humble abode. NO! We had to ensure that there was no risk of the possibility that he could crawl back up there and make its way out of the sink. And there was only one solution. The man of the house had to nut up and be the one to do the killing. They only problem? He was convinced his idea was the winner. And I could have nothing to do with that. I had to be the bigger person and ensure there was no risk of that thing returning and crawling over my face at night or nesting in my ear (actually, he was too big to do such a thing; it never would have fit in my ear).<br />
<br />
So I push up my sleeves and approach the sink - only one goal in mind: to get that sink spider dead. He was so big there was no doubt in the world that he'd be juicy and go down with a fight, so I had to ensure that my hands didn't do the killing. I first enlisted a sufficient ream of paper toweling which I coated the spider with, then grabbed the dish soap bottle with the thought of smushing it to smithereens. Unfortunately the keen arachnid just hid in the small hollow between the middle of the bottle bottom and the sink. Chris laughed. A few seconds of panic followed before I realized that the best kill tool would be the sharp-bristled scrub brush. Yes! That would do. I took a bit of the paper towel cushion away and proceeded to jab and stab at it, forcing an albeit messy, but successful demise of the sink spider.<br />
<br />
An alternate description, in the words of Christopher, courtesy of Facebook:<br />
<br />
<span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][1]"></span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2]"><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0]"><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[0]">Me: Amber, there's a giant spider in the sink</span><br data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[1]" /><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[2]">Spider: DUDE! Help! I can't get the fuck out of here, I can't climb the walls!</span><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[4]"> </span></span></span><br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2]"><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0]"><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[4]">Me: that's bad dude, Amber doesn't like spiders</span><br data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[5]" /><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[6]">Spider: help help help help</span><br data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[7]" /><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[8]">Me: want a hot shower?</span><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[10]"> </span></span></span><br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2]"><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0]"><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[10]">Spider: no! that will kill me</span><br data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[11]" /><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[12]">Amber: don't wash it down the sink, it will come back!</span><br data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[13]" /><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[14]">Spider: come back and do what? I can't climb the fuck out of the sink!</span><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[16]"> </span></span></span><br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2]"><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0]"><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[16]">Me: I've selected the method of death for this spider, if I can't kill him this way, you'll have to do it.</span><br data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[17]" /><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[18]">Amber:
(grabs 18 feet of paper towel, throws it on the spider, and then hits
the four inches of cushion with the dish soap bottle)</span><br data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[19]" /><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[20]">Me: laughing</span><br data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[21]" /><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[22]">Spider: missed me, I'm going down the drain! YOU'LL NEVER CATCH ME!</span><br data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[23]" /><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[24]">Amber: No you're not. (grabs scrub brush, throws down less paper towel cushion) die die die</span><br data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[25]" /><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[26]">Spider: silence</span><br data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[27]" /><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[28]">Me: laughing still</span><br data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[29]" /><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[30]">Amber: wipes up spider goo with 18' of paper towel</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2]"><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0]"><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[30]">Moral of the story: Chivalry is dead. And spiders are gross. And don't belong in kitchens.</span></span></span><br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2]"><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0]"><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[30]"><br /></span></span></span>
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2]"><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0]"><span data-reactid=".r[1k5eo].[1][4][1]{comment10152790393665099_20061322}.[0].{right}.[0].{left}.[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[30]">Stay tuned, the bug tales are not over. </span></span></span>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-82045362629644446632013-07-24T09:59:00.002-03:002013-09-13T18:59:55.294-03:00...You greeted me every single time with an, <i>"Oh hello!!"</i>, like you were truly greeting an old friend. You always had a genuine smile on your face. Every single time I passed through the drive-thru to your greeting and smile you took the time to chat before I pulled away. I remember how excited you were when you found out I, too, had an affection for flavored coffee. I remember the look of anticipation on your face as you urged me to try the latest flavor, offering it to me free if I could guess. <br />
<br />
I barely knew you.<br />
<br />
You were the 'coffee guy'. The guy that was working every.single.time I went there. You knew me by my car and had my regular order on your tongue before I had a chance to give it.<br />
<br />
I didn't even know your name until I saw it on your obituary.<br />
<br />
My heart breaks for your family and friends. And I'm truly sorry I never got to know you better.<br />
<br />
Rest in peace, Andrew. Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-7888742876471471172013-06-18T11:38:00.000-03:002013-09-14T12:51:42.697-03:00I celebrate him in memory always...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KmNeQF9RJrY/Ub8yefzmgvI/AAAAAAAADgs/RVkPl_Rn4l4/s1600/remembermeinthestars.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KmNeQF9RJrY/Ub8yefzmgvI/AAAAAAAADgs/RVkPl_Rn4l4/s320/remembermeinthestars.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every single time. Every single star.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Sunday night I had a message from a friend - a simple, yet poignant,<i> "So....Father's Day kinda sucks!"</i>. She lost her father less than 3 months ago. I had no sugary 'make you feel better' comments to send back to her. Comiserate, yes, I could do that. Because it does suck. It's sucked for the past 11 years for me. 11 years have gone by since I've had a father to celebrate on the one day that is established to do just that. So for anyone out there who's estranged from their father, I <i>implore </i>you to mend your relationship before it's too late. Before he's no longer in the chair in front of you. Before you no longer have the opportunity to lay a kiss upon his forehead. Before the feel and strength of his hug is just a faded memory. Before the sound of his voice and his laugh get harder to remember. You don't know how lucky you are to still make a new memory on Father's Day - any day.<br />
<br />
When my father was in the hospital and I was in denial, I interrupted him. I interrupted his conversation with me on what he wanted to do with some video clips he'd been saving. I stopped him from explaining his intents for those clippings. I was scared to lose him. I didn't like to even fathom that he wouldn't get out of that hospital bed. My dad. My big teddy bear of a man. My hero. There was no way he'd not make it out of there to continue on with what he wanted to do himself with those clippings. I put my finger up to his lips and shushed him...<i> "I don't want to hear it, Dad"</i>, I said<i>,"because you're going to have an opportunity to do all that yourself when you get out of here"</i>. Even though it wasn't even a remote possibility at the time, I also reminded him that I needed him around to walk me down the aisle when I eventually got married. He looked me in the eye with a pained expression, simply agreeing with me to appease my mind, and said, <i>"Yeah"</i>. This conversation was even before we knew that it was cancer. Before we had known it had spread and that his outlook was dismal at best. Despite having no concrete proof, though, Dad had started that same conversation that day with, <i>"You know a man shouldn't have to spend his final days like this..."</i>.<br />
<br />
They say that you know when your time is nearing. Despite the others around you being in complete and utter denial, you know yourself. So you sometimes have that opportunity to express what your intents and wants are for any unfinished business you won't be able to take care of. To say what you need to say. I stifled it though. I could have finished up the clipping project if I'd taken the time to hear him out and let him fnish. I could have spent a longer time by his side that day and had a conversation with him when he still had his mind and his wits about him - before all the medication. I could have asked him so many questions about his thoughts, his childhood, his desire for how he wanted to be remembered. I had been given the opportunity but I'd strangled it off without a second thought because I was scared to think of the end. My final memory of my father talking to me was a simple, <i>"Good bye"</i>, before his eyes filled up with tears. Everything else he'd said that day was inaudible because the medication had burned his mouth so badly that it made it impossible to understand. I'd lost my chance. Then, I lost my father.<br />
<br />
Say whatever it is you want to say. Before it's too late. Call your father --- right now. Tell him you love him - before you no longer have the chance. <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ah0ih0aWKMk/UcBsF-eUANI/AAAAAAAADg8/rePPO5bLUZ0/s1600/letter+from+heaven.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ah0ih0aWKMk/UcBsF-eUANI/AAAAAAAADg8/rePPO5bLUZ0/s320/letter+from+heaven.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In my heart always, xoxoxo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
After Dad passed and we were going through some of his papers we'd come across a photocopy of the following verse. It helped, somewhat, and for any of you still struggling with your own losses out there, I can't say anything to make you feel better. It does suck. It will always suck on the 'special' days, and the anniversary days. Even the ordinary days when he's just more in mind and heart than usual. There will be tears. Let them flow. Perhaps these words might take a bit of the sting away, or at the very least, let you realize that the feelings you have right now are felt and understood by someone else out there: Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-35075116548887996002013-04-04T06:26:00.000-03:002013-04-04T06:26:13.635-03:00A Father's LoveFour of my friends have lost their father in the last week. One death was expected as he'd been quite ill for some time; two were having health issues but I don't know that the pending loss was clearly on the cusp; and, one passed very suddenly, without warning, and my friend was off-Island visiting his in-laws when it happened. Three of these men were under the age of 70 years old. My heart breaks for them all. And it's at times like these that I have a lot of difficulty believing that "everything happens for a reason", and it's all a "part of God's plan". Four families are now forever changed. In four homes, there are four empty chairs. In four homes, there are multiple broken hearts.<br />
<br />
We never know when our last, "I love you", will actually be our last. We often take for granted those that mean the most to us. When we're faced with the unfillable void, it proves to be the emptiest that we may ever feel...<br />
<br />
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11 years ago today, my hero lost his own fight. 11 years has passed us by but it might as well be 11 days today as I sit and hold back the tears, remembering the greatest man I will ever know. My first love. My father. I miss you, Dad....it's been 11 years, but it's never gotten any easier. I know you walk beside me. I know you're watching out for me. I just wish we'd had more time... Forever your little girl xoxoxo.<br />
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<b>A Father's Love</b><br />
A father is respected because<br />
he gives his children leadership...<br />
appreciated because<br />
he gives his children care...<br />
valued because<br />
he gives his children time...<br />
loved because<br />
he gives his children the one thing<br />
they treasure most - himself.<br />
~ unknown Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-87251161936806938272013-03-12T21:55:00.002-03:002013-03-12T22:11:16.921-03:00And so they rode off into the sunset together ... on an elephant...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Well it's over. And the *huge* announcement was that ABC will air their wedding to cement a relationship that began on a TV show. Shocker. I will miss seeing his beautiful chest every week, but I do wish them happiness. Maybe even Trista-and-Ryan-happiness. Because they both seem like good people. And let's be honest - Catherine Lowe sounds sooooo much better than Lindsay Lowe doesn't it? (Psst, Lindsay-the-bride, I do feel bad for you. I hope you're able to piece your heart together from the bajillion little pieces it's in since Thailand. Good on ya for taking off those heels so you could get yourself to the car faster).Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-29405318838970875002013-02-20T23:38:00.004-04:002013-02-20T23:38:47.848-04:00hmm...?I wonder how many regular readers I've lost by this blog becoming a Bachelor summary.<br />
<br />
Do people blog anymore?<br />
<br />
Do people read blogs anymore between Facebook and Pinterest?<br />
<br />
Are you still there? What keeps you here? Pop me a comment. I'm trying to decide whether it might be time to take My Happy Place to its cyber grave. Chris Harrison hasn't contacted me to blog for him, afterall.Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-23399211141102823272013-02-20T01:13:00.000-04:002013-02-20T01:16:01.778-04:00hometowns, schmotownsAnd then there were four....Hometown night, and we start in Houston, Texas and AshLee. AshLee's adoptive family reveal a layer of overprotectiveness, and her dad tells the story of his 'first date' with her when she was 4. Tell me there was a dry eye in the house, America - I dare you.<br />
<br />
Seattle, Washington, the sun (!) and Catherine await Sean's next meeting. Catherine's sisters express their doubt. I guess her mother gave her blessing; to be honest, I wasn't paying that much attention. The hometown show usually bores me. I also wonder why we're even in Catherine's hometown. She's cute and all but I didn't really ever notice a spark betwixt the two *shrug*.<br />
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Lindsay-the-bride-army-brat's Something-About-Wood, MO is our next destination. Lindsay throws Sean an army outfit and subjects him to a bit of an bootcamp which was actually kinda cute. Then it was on to the General's place, who, in a roundabout way gave Sean his blessing to marry his daughter if they so choose to take their relationship that far (well, heck, she's got the dress anyway, right?). It seemed like a positive date. The General even gave Sean a pair of his own dog tags. I still don't feel this union...we'll see.<br />
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Los Angeles is the backdrop of the drama and the union between Sean and Des' family... and before the drama with her family begins, there's a knock on the door and Desiree's ex-boyfriend appears confessing his undying love and affection for her (and I have to say it appeared completely scripted, and poor, POOR acting to boot). Immediately I'm wondering if Sean's being punk'd just like he punk'd us on Emily's season, and like he punk'd her on their first date, come to think of it....*end commercial break*...and I'll just say HA! Told ya so... The date continues, and the meet the parents went fine; they seemed wholesome and happy for Des. Then her brother calls him out as a playboy creating tension and awkwardness. Could this be the demise of Sean & Des....hmmm...<br />
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Despite a painful turmoil-filled delay (thank the baby Jesus for recorded TV and a fast forward button), he does opt to keep his life drama-free and sends Des and her nasty brother packin'....and I gotta say, I honestly didn't see that coming. I think he made a mistake, too. I'm actually out of wit. Guess we know who the next Bachelorette will be. And maybe brother Nate will get the stick out of his ass by then.Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-50283599458874967992013-02-19T23:25:00.001-04:002013-02-19T23:25:43.073-04:00"Once again, it's the Tierra show"*Our next episode begins with all 6 remaining girls flying into St. Croix in a sea plane. After tonight we'll know who Sean plans to take on the hometown dates. The only "date rose" that will be given out tonight is the group date, and three lucky ladies are treated to one-on-one time.<br />
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AshLee is given the first one-on-one date, leading Tierra to belt out, <i>"the cougar's back in town"</i>, in a fit of jealousy. Sean and AshLee frolic around in the ocean and lay on the beach. We are treated to a few lovely shots of his glorious chest, and AshLee opens up about the 'true' Tierra, and Sean seems receptive of her thoughts and feelings...least that's what we're led to believe... They have a romantic candlelit dinner on the beach, and AshLee reveals a deep dark secret - that she was a married high school junior. Sean of course goes all Ryan Gosling on her and says he thinks she's perfect the way she is, and she shouts her love for Sean into the night sky.<br />
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Meanwhile, Tierra is chosen for the second, and her first, one-on-one, though she is very concerned about bugs, sweatiness and her makeup dripping off when it's announced their date's theme is exploring the streets of St. Croix rather than relaxing boatside. They go shopping, eat snowcones, and despite the risk of sweating, dance with a street parade. There's some slight tension during their alone time but then Sean shakes it off to taking too much stock in what AshLee is saying, and Tierra then goes on to secure her spot by affirming that she's falling in love with him.<br />
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Lindsay-the-bride, Catherine & Des are surprised very early as Sean waltzes into their room awaking them from a snoozy slumber to announce that they are leaving on their date in 5 minutes. To add to the surprise he takes their picture because he wants to see them without makeup on. I'd punch him. The reason for the early wake-up is to watch the sunrise together (ok, I guess I'd forgive him for the camera thing). They travel the length of the island, stopping in various places and spaces to play tourist, ultimately ending at the other side of the island to see the sunset (ok so that really does sound like a <i>perfect </i>date). To America's (well, at least my) surprise, Des didn't get the group date rose, and instead the flower was handed to Lindsay-the-bride, and maybe it was the Universe giving Sean a sign for his decision with the rose...there was no sunset because the sun was hidden behind the clouds (*queue dramatic music*).<br />
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And finally, the last one-on-one date embarks with Lesley. The sun returns, in full force, and the couple share a picnic lunch under the trees. Sean does his best to pull our her feelings, but I gotta say, their 'alone time' was all shades of awkward. Methinks he shouldn't bother asking too much about her family...<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That bitch be ca-raaaayzay!!!!!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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Sean's sister Shay joins Sean in trying to make his final decision, where he mulls over the option to keep Tierra in the running, and inbetween musings, the camera pans to the best drama of the season and a confrontation between AshLee and Tierra (I actually rewound it to watch it all again, and I do want to commend the producers for an excellent drama flow). Sean enters the house with the intention of grabbing Tierra to meet Shay but instead of a smiling Tierra, he finds a post-drama meltdown Tierra, and he FINALLY sees the light and realizes it's time to send her ass HOME...pan to the taxi ride and an ugly cry, and it's a done deal.<br />
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Guinness record be damned, Lesley is also sent packing, and moving along to show us their hometowns are Lindsay-the-bride, Des, Catherine, and AshLee. After seeing the preview to the next episode I can hardly wait for the drama that ensues with Des' brother. And we thought we were through with the drama with the departure of Ms. Tierra. Oh that Bachelor! You just never can tell!<span id="goog_1635694590"></span><span id="goog_1635694591"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">*Alternate post title: "I cannot control my eyebrow"</span>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-12857742469759172812013-02-10T17:22:00.001-04:002013-02-10T18:51:40.453-04:00"Everybody, watch your back; we have a tierr-orist on our hands"The show begins with Sean's exclamation,<i> "I love Canada!"</i> -- aww, Sean...Canada loves you, too!! (again, no starting scenes of Sean's chest; wtf??).<br />
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The beautiful Canadian Rockies, Lake Louise and Banff & Jasper National Parks are the settings of this week's episode. Catherine is chosen for the first one-on-one and Sean picks her up in a giant snow bus in the middle of what looks like Blizzard Nemo. They go sledding and make snow angels, and go for a drive on a horse-drawn carriage to an ice castle. Catherine shares a personal story about a loss early in her life which secures the date rose; Sean's crazy about her. He's crazy about a lot them, though. <br />
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The group date starts off with a canoe ride; I guess Sean really didn't pay that much attention to the Montana Relay did he? They make it to their destination only to be told that they are going to take part in the Lake Louise Polar Bear Plunge (when in Canada, do as the Canadians do, eh?). An EMT is on stand-by and they are coached on the risks of hypothermia. At least we get to see another glimpse of his chest, right? Selma opts out of the 'challenge', but the others take the leap and all are giggles and jubilation for having done it. Tierra's cold heart must have gotten a shock, though, because she needed to be escorted away by the medics (is ANYONE surprised? If any of you were on the fence, her whiny pout, <i>"...but I miss time with him..."</i> should have cemented it. The attached photo is the pout if you need reminding). She's careful to reinsert her oxygen tube just as he walks into her room to see if she's ok, and suggests she stay at the hotel and rest instead of joining them later that night. To no one's surprise, she lands there anyway. To Tierra's surprise, Lesley gets the group rose, though. And, he sends Sarah home. I hope she doesn't think it's because she only has one arm.<br />
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Des gets the second one-on-one date, and they start at the highest point of Banff National Park where they repel down a 400ft mountain to a waiting picnic. They climb a tree and kiss between the branches, and end the date by the fire in a big teepee. She opens up about her childhood of humble beginnings and gets the date rose. They kiss some more. She could be Mrs. Sean. The date ends with her declaration of her own life metaphor of telling Sean how she grew up living in a tent, and now she's falling in love in a teepee. Is that not what country songs and soap operas are made of, or what?<br />
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The rose ceremony takes a rather saucy turn as Selma goes against her religious beliefs to plant a kiss on Sean's lips (SELMA! What will your mother say??!), Lindsay admits to sleeping naked, and LeeAnn gets Sean to blindfold her. Between all that and Tierra's constant manipulation and girl crying wolf stuff, it's apparent that the remaining girls will do just about anything to secure their mitts with a rose, and should ultimately make Sean's pending decisions for who gets what rose a lot more trying. In the end, Daniella, shirked from any and all one-on-one opportunities, and Selma, despite having gone against her religion and risking breaking her mother's heart, are sent to find love somewhere else this week, as Sean gives the final rose to Tierra. Next episode looks full of Tierra drama, and just from the preview alone, I already have my post title for the next summary post. Happy Sunday, folks :)<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">*Lesley, who I like more and more each week.</span><i><br /></i>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-74108874559865602852013-02-10T15:23:00.002-04:002013-02-10T19:20:50.016-04:00"If I want to go get engaged I can easily go get engaged; there are plenty of #%*ing guys in the world"*Ok so since this blog has now resurfaced as a "Bachelor blog", and since I'm storm-stayed inside on account of "Blizzard Nemo" it seems as good a time as any to get caught up on this past week's shows. Yes, shows, plural. I have 4 hrs to plow through (pardon the blizzard pun). Thank GOODNESS I chose to just let the PVR do its work so I didn't actually have to commit an entire 4 hrs of my life on the show this week.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thank you inTouch; thank you.</td></tr>
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The dreaded two-on-one date approaches the house, and as Chris Harrison claims, things are getting serious and the eleven remaining girls head to Montana to join Sean<span style="font-size: x-small;"> {Holy CRAP....is the water REALLY that blue??}</span>. I'm very disappointed as I'm already 6 mins into the show and I've not seen Sean's chest or boxer-briefed buttocks. <span style="font-size: x-small;"> {I've taken the liberty of posting a photo courtesy of the interwebs and inTouch magazine to make up for this episode's slack. You're welcome}.</span><br />
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Lindsay-the-bride is the winner of the one-on-one date. No pressure, just fun. And they begin their date on, you guessed it, a helicopter, and they head to Glacier National Park, and then sit fireside after the sun goes down. Sean gets to know her a little more as they talk about her past and her Daddy issues from being an Army brat during the war. They kiss. She gets the date rose. Sean seems into her, but then again, doesn't he seem that way with every single girl when they have some alone time? Her voice drives me. The little town hosts a concert with some upcoming country artist I have no idea about, and the two join the party and dance among the entire population of Whitefish, Montana.<br />
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The group date begins, and the girls embark on the "Bachelor's Montana Wilderness Relay Race", including a canoe race, a hay drag, log sawing, and milking goats (oh, and then drinking the goat milk). The girls are split into two teams of 4, and they compete to win more time with Sean. The looks on their manicured faces when they were advised of the tasks ahead of them were a little priceless. The athleticism was amazing, too, by the way. Selma, Sarah, Des, and Robyn hailed as champions, but in true Sean fashion, Sean bends the rules to have the losers join the winners after all, so he didn't lose out on some important one-on-one time with the losers. Des is very perturbed that she chugged back goat's milk for nothing. Tierra, who wasn't even a part of the group date decides she needs to manipulate even MORE of Sean's time to make up for him choosing her to be one of the two on the upcoming two-on-one date, and surprises Sean by interrupting the group date to assure him of her presence in the house (man oh man, he better watch his back if he ends up sending her home). Daniella has a meltdown on Sean's shoulder and softie-Sean ends up assuring her that she has nothing to worry about by giving her the date rose.<br />
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The two-on-one is between Jackie & Tierra; Tierra thinks her little visit on the group date nabs her rose so she embarks on the date with renewed confidence (ie, cockiness - there really is a very, very fine line, and if you ask me, I don't see much of a difference). They ride horses and stop for lunch, where Sean splits up his time between the two girls. Jackie seals her fate as she 'enlightens' Sean about a nasty side of Tierra (that never, ever bodes well on this show; hasn't she watched ANY previous seasons?). Tierra eats up some more 'alone' time with Sean, opening up about a previous relationship that she had where the guy had passed away, further manipulating her spot in the house, and Jackie is sent home in the limo as Tierra and Sean sit underneath a sky of fireworks.<br />
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The cocktail party stirs up some drama where some of the girls approach Tierra and she gets her stinger poised and ready to strike out, and Sean walks past as she threatens to sting them all. Sean pulls Tierra aside, and Tierra claims all the girls are attacking her. Sean wants to address the concerns, and for a brief moment, the audience is led to believe he might be starting to think that Tierra isn't there for the right reasons. For a moment, we wonder if he might take the rose <i>away </i>from Tierra. Of course not. Ultimately, Robyn is sent home, and luckily for her, Sean walks her out so she doesn't risk falling down on the way out of the house like she did on the way in. I didn't like her much anyway.<br />
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I'll post this now to give ya'll something to read - off to hit play on part 2 of the week... I can barely contain myself.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">*Tierra, in response to the girls' questioning her sincerity; seems like it sums her up, no<span style="font-size: x-small;">?</span></span> Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-45968909305195349642013-02-03T20:55:00.001-04:002013-02-10T19:23:02.609-04:00"Tierra-ble"It seems like every show begins on a high note, doesn't it? One tip, however, the clips from the walk-in closet were too quick, producers! Work on that for the next one, would ya? <span style="font-size: x-small;">{#Seanhasthecutestbum}</span><br />
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Selma gets the first one-on-one date and they get the red-carpet treatnent as they take off in a private jet in their sneakers and Lululemons, landing in the desert. They rock climb in Joshua Tree National Park, and after conquering her fear of heights and sweat, Selma gets to trade in her hiking sneakers for her 6 inch heels as they have dinner at a quaint little trailer park (??). Sean's eager lips go unrequited, though, as Selma explains her strict religious Arabic background. He'll be some horny if he keeps her around til the end, eh wha?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fEWJT1YGo5g/UQ8CO2mYbMI/AAAAAAAADd8/U3BpngNknUc/s1600/tierra.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fEWJT1YGo5g/UQ8CO2mYbMI/AAAAAAAADd8/U3BpngNknUc/s1600/tierra.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A huge thank you to whomever doctored up this pic ;)</td></tr>
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A skating rink is the setting of the group date and the girls suit up for an old fashioned battle of roller derby. Sarah has a melt-down because she only has one arm. Amanda lies to them all about having had previous derby experience, and then, in her over-confidence bites it so bad she fractures her jaw. Since the medics had to be called in, Sean decides that instead of having an actual ass-kickin' bout, they should just opt to have a free skate around the rink. <span style="font-size: x-small;">{And, as I see them all glide aroun<span style="font-size: x-small;">d</span> to the sound of Journey I'm feeling very melancholy as I remember the fun times I had at Skate Country. Man, I still miss that place. I bet I wouldn't be a fat girl if that place still existed. Thanks Dave Beaton; you made me fat.}</span> Tierra has a hissy fit (complete with a snorty ugly cry, that is), threatens to leave the house entirely, and Sean coddles her with the group rose. Classic manipulation 1, innocent Sean, 0.<br />
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Leslie H is awarded the second one-on-one date. To prepare Leslie for her evening out Sean sends her diamond earrings, and they go shopping Pretty Woman-style on Rodeo Drive to find an outfit to match her new bling <span style="font-size: x-small;">{She looks no more like Julia Roberts than I do; if anything, I think she resembles a giraffe}</span>. Dressed to the nines, the two share dinner, and although Sean teasingly holds the rose in his hand in front of her, he simply explains why he can't give it to her because he has no romantic feelings, and sends her to ride off into the sunset. Least she has a pair of pretty earrings to take back home with her, though, right?<br />
<br />
The rose ceremony ends with a bruised Amanda walking to the waiting limo. You'd think he'd at least have given her a pity rose til her bruised jaw healed a little, wouldn't you? Oh that Sean, he's just full of surprises, though, isn't he?<br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">*A rather fitting title; thanks to one of the girls for a delightful play-on- words. She is NOT the cute little innocent I thought she was on night one. The drama is fun though :)</span><br />
<br />Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-6515345330504560932013-01-21T23:06:00.000-04:002013-01-21T23:06:12.492-04:00"I feel like such a hot mess"*So another show begins with a shot of his delicious chest. It's like the producers read my blog or something. And there's no messin' around tonight, as the first one-on-one date quickly embarks between Sean (whoops! have I been misspelling his name all this time? Must've been that chest) and Lesley (she coulda stood a root job herself), and the two play tourist at the Guinness Museum. After viewing the world's smallest woman, the world's tallest man, and Sean's own father's personal world record, Sean brings Lesley out amongst an anxious crowd to cheer them on a challenge of their own - to beat the world record of the longest on-screen kiss (someone pass the chapstick)... Apparently, the record had been set for 10 years, but lo and behold, the two <i>did</i> surpass the marker of 3mins 15 secs, and what better way to start a budding romance? Their date is sealed with a chapped-lip kiss and a rose for Lesley. Shocker. She just lip-locked with him for nearly the length of a pop song<i> </i>how could he <i>not </i>give her the rose??<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jc6Wo0RqtiI/UP363618JkI/AAAAAAAADds/XlV03E_Hwzo/s1600/bachelorsean.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jc6Wo0RqtiI/UP363618JkI/AAAAAAAADds/XlV03E_Hwzo/s320/bachelorsean.jpg" width="320" /></a>The group date is a competitive beach volleyball game with 2 groups of 6 ladies. The prize for the winning team? Quality time with the Bachelor, of course. The losing team had to ship back out to the mansion, and they were as sore as sore could be, complete with a few ugly tears (seriously? I could be in bed now). The 'winners' were KacieB, Amanda, Taryn, Des, Leslie and Lindsay-the-bride. Last episode Amanda showed her moodiness as she stared off into a different dimension when she was among the girls, and then was Joe Smiley when Sean came near. KacieB feels there's something "sinister" about her and approaches Sean, who calls her a crazy person...and then ultimately gives Lindsay-the-bride the group date rose.<br />
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AshLee is the final girl to get a one-on-one date, and just as she is about to ride off with Sean a loud crash is heard in the distance, and all of a sudden we see Tierra crumpled up in a heap at the bottom of the stairwell. Sean insists they call a medic, and as she is strapped to the board by about a dozen medics she begins to cry and insists they let her go because it was unnecessary....and then snuggles on the back deck with Sean, all smiles. The girls have their suspicion that she's playing it up like the boy who cried wolf, and I gotta say, it does look fairly plausible...she <i>was </i>on the losing volleyball team, so before this, she virtually had no time with him this week... Sean finally pulls himself away from the patient and he and AshLee jump in Sean's jeep and off they go to Six Flags Amusement Park (the entire park to themselves, and two chronically ill children (handsome and a heart of gold...yes, that noise you hear in the distance is all of America swooning)). They spend the day together riding coasters and end the date with a private country concert. The two share some intimate time getting to know one another, and she opens up about a bit of a rough childhood, which brings Sean to tears (jeeeeeeeze, he's handsome, has a heart of gold, AND isn't afraid to show emotion), and AshLee gets the date rose (ok, waaaaitaminute....she admits she's opened up more to him than she's 'ever opened up to anyone before'...really?? You've known him for...two weeks??).<br />
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The cocktail party was a proverbial tug of war and jealousy with one girl pulling on Sean's arm just as he sat with another one, and none of them could complete a sentence. Before the rose ceremony even begins, with rose in hand, mind you, Sean then pulls KacieB aside to let her go. How not waiting for him to give out his batch of roses would have made it any easier on her, I'm not sure, but maybe it was the principle of the matter? Joining her on the road home were Taryn and the Ford model. I shan't miss either.<br />
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2 catty comments to end the night:<br />
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One - Sarah's voice DRIVES ME BATTY!<br />
Two - Ford model chick is NOT PRETTY! <br />
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Night ya'll!<br />
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P.S. ooooh next week looks good...roller derby, eh? I wonder if Tierra's old stairwell injury will be back to haunt her?<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">*Sarah, after Sean arranged for her to reunite with her dog, since he didn't have any one-on-one time with her this week.</span>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-92042081103609504042013-01-20T22:17:00.002-04:002013-01-20T22:17:56.808-04:00"I'm vegan but I love the beef"In case any of us forgot just how awesome his chest is, the episode begins with a close-up of the chest mid-workout and post-workout-wet-shower-goodness. Mmmm, mmm, mmm....where was I again? Oh yes, episode two. Yeah. The lucky lady on the very first one-on-one date was Sarah, and I mean no disrespect, really, I swear, but if she does NOT stop going on about only having one arm I'm going to SCREAM! Yes, you're different, and yes, I'm certain you are just as capable as anyone with two good arms...but honey, you're the ONLY ONE making anything of it...shut UP already. They strapped up and free fell down the side of a skyscraper and onward to a champagne toast. We heard her bemoan her 'disability' just a little bit more. That's it, though, right? She's got it all out, right?<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">{Oh my God, he's cute}</span><br />
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The group date takes place in a big castle where they got spackled and fluffed to the max for a photoshoot for future Harlequin romance novels. Of COURSE the Ford model was one of the 13 girls. Tierra was as well, and we're witness to the very first inklings of her jealous streak and the distaste the other girls feel toward her (hello drama! loves it!).<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">{Yoga instructor needs some VO5 treatment....and PRONTO, and Kacie really should have had her roots done before the show started, don't you think?}</span><br />
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Yogi sends herself home (and hopefully onto the drugstore for that VO5) and KacieB gets the group rose, and smugly rubs it in the noses of the other girls as she 'toasts' their date.<br />
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The next one-on-one date is given to Desiree, and a pactical joke at an art gallery, and as a result of her being such a good sport through it all, she is rewarded with a homecooked meal at Shawn's hand, in his place (I don't believe for a minute that he made it). They appear to share some good chemistry. I think she's adorable. And they'd make gorgeous babies! (Oh, and I love how he's nicknamed her "Des").<br />
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Brooke (who??), and Diana get the boot, and the next episode looks much more exciting than this was. Did ya watch?<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Alternate post title:"Tacky hoes are a dime a dozen"</span>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3186884534284140136.post-32551668946237229982013-01-14T17:32:00.001-04:002013-01-14T17:32:35.262-04:00MerlinName one of the most comforting sounds you can think of. I have a few, but a cat's purr is definitely high on the list. There's just something snuggly about a little purry kitty, in a little ball in your lap, like there's nowhere else he or she would rather be than to chill with you. Zoe's a big purring machine. Bosco was when he was just a kitten, but as he aged, I thought he lost his ability to purr. Turns out it's there, it's just infrequent, and usually only comes out when Chris is the one scratchin' him. On the way home from work, the DJ on the radio played a sound, followed by a commercial break and his promise of letting the audience know what the sound was. I thought it resembled a cat, but wasn't 100% sure. Turns out yes, it was a cat. Not a lion. Not a tiger. Not a cheetah. But a housecat. Merlin, to be exact. Apparently most domestic house cats purr at a decibel of about 25. Merlin caps out at a whopping <i>100 </i>decibels. His owner is attempting to get him into the Guiness Book of World Records. Every time I hear him peak out at 100dB, I giggle:<br />
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And, truth be told, as cute as a short video is, I'm sorta glad my Zoe is probably more in the "normal" dB range. Happy Monday!Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06495773343145257293noreply@blogger.com0