> There is a lot of truth in this
>
> Happiness....
>
> The first day of school our professor introduced himself
> and challenged us to get to know someone we didn't
> already know. I stood up to look around when a gentle hand
> touched my shoulder.
>
> I turned around to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming
> up at me with a smile that lit up her entire being.
>
> She said, 'Hi handsome. My name is Rose. I'm
> eighty-seven years old. Can I give you a hug?'
>
> I laughed and enthusiastically responded, 'Of course
> you may!' and she gave me a giant squeeze.
>
> 'Why are you in college at such a young, innocent
> age?' I asked.
>
>
> She jokingly replied, 'I'm here to meet a rich
> husband, get married, and have a couple of kids...'
>
> 'No seriously,' I asked. I was curious what may
> have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her
> age.
>
> 'I always dreamed of having a college education and now
> I'm getting one!' she told me.
>
> After class we walked to the student union building and
> shared a chocolate milkshake.
>
> We became instant friends. Every day for the next three
> months we would leave class together and talk nonstop. I
> was always mesmerized listening to this 'time
> machine' as she shared her wisdom and experience with
> me.
>
> Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and
> she easily made friends wherever she went. She loved to
> dress up and she reveled in the attention bestowed upon her
> from the other students. She was living it up.
>
> At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our
> football banquet. I'll never forget what she taught us.
> She was introduced and stepped up to the podium. As she
> began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her three
> by five cards on the floor.
>
> Frustrated and a little embarrassed she leaned into the
> microphone and simply said, 'I'm sorry I'm so
> jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and this whiskey is
> killing me! I'll never get my speech back in order so
> let me just tell you what I know.'
>
>
> As we laughed she cleared her throat and began, 'We do
> not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we
> stop playing.
>
> There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy,
> and achieving success. You have to laugh and find humor
> every day. You've got to have a dream. When you lose
> your dreams, you die.
>
> We have so many people walking around w ho are dead and
> don't even know it!
>
> There is a huge difference between growing older and
> growing up.
>
> If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full
> year and don't do one productive thing, you will turn
> twenty years old. If I am eighty-seven years old and stay
> in bed for a year and never do anything I will turn
> eighty-eight.
>
> Anybody can grow older. That doesn't take any talent or
> ability. The idea is to grow up by always finding
> opportunity in change. Have no regrets.
>
> The elderly usually don't have regrets for what we did,
> but rather for things we did not do. The only people who
> fear death are those with regrets.'
>
> She concluded her speech by courageously singing 'The
> Rose.'
>
>
> She challenged each of us to study the lyrics and live them
> out in our daily lives. At the year's end Rose finished
> the college degree she had begun all those years ago.
>
> One week after graduation Rose died peacefully in her
> sleep.
>
> Over two thousand college students attended her funeral in
> tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that
> it's never too late to be all you can possibly be.
>
|
For those of you who wax, you will understand fully and those who don't will never make this mistake. Better go pee before you read this.
Hair Removal...
(I don't have a clue as to who wrote this, but....WHAT A RIOT!)
All hair removal methods have tricked women with their promises of easy, painless removal - The Epilady, scissors, razors, Nair and now...the wax. Read on.........
My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours:
'Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet.' So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom.
It was one of those 'cold wax' kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off.
No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out. (YA THINK!?!)
So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees.
('Cold wax,' yeah...right!) I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull. It works!
OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire
With my next wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I apply the wax strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my hoo-ha and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek (it *was* a long strip) I inhale deeply and brace myself....RRRRIIIPPP!!!!
I'm blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!!....OH MY GAWD!!!!!!!!!
Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the strip. CRAP! Another deep breath and RIPP! Everything is spinning and spotted. I think I may pass out...must stay conscious...must stay conscious.
Do I hear crashing drums??? Breathe, breathe...OK, back to normal.
I want to see my trophy - a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold up the strip. There's no hair on it. Where is the hair??? WHERE IS THE WAX???
Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip...it's not! I touch. I am touching wax.
I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair. Then I make the next BIG mistake...remember my foot is still propped upon the toilet? I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down.
Sealed shut! My butt is sealed shut. Sealed shut!
I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself 'Please don't let me get the urge to poop. My head may pop off!' What can I do to melt the wax?
Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!! I'll run the hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right??? *WRONG!!!!!!!*
I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit.
Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together, is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub...in scalding hot water. Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax.
So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cemented myself to the porcelain!! God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!!
I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone. It's a very good conversation starter 'So, my butt and hoo-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!'
There is a slight pause. She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, 'Are we talking cheeks or hole or hoo-ha?'
She's laughing out loud by now...I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of the box.
YEAH!!!!! Right!! I should be the joke of someone else's night.
While we go through various solutions. I resort to trying to scrape the wax off with a razor . Nothing feels better than to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!!
By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event.
My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace....the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax. What do I really have to lose at this point? I rub some on and OH MY GOD!!!!!!!
The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my friend. It's sooo painful, but I really don't care. 'IT WORKS!! It works !!'
I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up. I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair....THE HAIR IS STILL THERE.......ALL OF IT
So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I'm numb by now. Nothing hurts. I could have amputated my own leg at this point.
Next week I'm going to try hair color...
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Wow, that was quick!!! I am glad I got to read your blog before it was gone!!! I guess you used too many names and stuff. But thanks for the info.
I have been blogging on here off and on for the past couple of years. During this time I have read a lot of things about the TN, some good, a lot bad. I just wanted to step up and share my story of my experience with them today.
My mother died 3 weeks ago. My father wanted to run her obituary in the TN and the Antelope Valley Press. We found out that the mortuary had to do this so we set it up. Her obit had ran in the AVP a week ago, but I have been checking on this site and haven't seen anything. So I decided to contact the TN via email but wasn't sure who to speak to about this. I sent my email explaining all this and to please direct me to whom I need talk to. So on Monday I sent it to the General Manager. Then I started thinking and sent the same email to other staff, the editor, the Production Manager, the classified/legal person, and I think someone else, on Tuesday. I got an response back from yahoo saying that one of the addresses I sent to couldn't go through. It was one that I had sent a CC to. So, not knowing too much about how it works I just left it alone thinking the other emails had been sent. Well, I woke up this morning a little irritated because I hadn't received a response yet. I decided to re-send but without the bad email address. Within half an hour I received a response from the editors account saying that she was on leave to send to another address that was provided. So I did, but was still a little irritated and was going to post a not so friendly blog or make a not so friendly phone call. But within minutes of sending it to the address that was provided to me, I received two emails, one from the General Manager and one from an Ed Gordon. Mr. Gordon asked if he could contact my phone so I emailed back and provided my number plus the mortuary's in case he needed it. I expected maybe a phone this afternoon stating that I had to call the mortuary myself and so forth. I got a phone call from Mr. Gordon not even 30 minutes later, apologizing for the mix up. He had already called the mortuary and settled the problem--the mortuary had only sent it to the AVP--and then called me personally to let me know. He is just waiting to received it from the mortuary and then he'll run it.
So, my point being in all this is that as soon as Mr. Gordon was alerted to the problem he contacted me via email, called the mortuary, and then me all in less than 45 min. And some of that time was me contacting him giving him the info through the email. So it could have easily been taken care sooner but I don't have an alert when I get a new email. I just go and look. So I just want to give a big ole thanks to Ed Gordon for his professionalism and apology that frankly wasn't really his responsibility to give. There are good people working at the paper, and yes no one is going to be happy 100% of the time with any paper or business. I just want to say THANK YOU ED!!
This is why I stopped coming on this darn blog!!!!! I was chatting away with a few different people, not being mean, or vulgar or cussing or anything. The blog was "The depot and my relationship to Stan Be.....". Now it is gone. The things I said. I mean I know it veered off to "catching up" with an old friend, but why did it disappear? Does anyone know or have an idea?
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