<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271</id><updated>2012-02-16T19:21:55.080-08:00</updated><category term='Scholarships'/><title type='text'>The Long and Short of it</title><subtitle type='html'>More acurately, the short of it. This is the blog of a short person, living in a tall person's world.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>36</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-1282344277389104179</id><published>2009-10-05T00:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T00:17:25.104-07:00</updated><title type='text'>College Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SsmdWTMwW2I/AAAAAAAAADY/Oj44OCTD72I/s1600-h/heartwhoogas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389011435561966434" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SsmdWTMwW2I/AAAAAAAAADY/Oj44OCTD72I/s320/heartwhoogas.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wow. College life. I'm so busy. I haven't been on this site in a while, but I plan on posting more regularly now that I'm getting settled. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, as a broke college student, I'd love to win a free pair of uggs. Which is why I'm posting this sticker thingie here.  Nice, huh? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alright. I'm gonna go write a paper now; but i'll be back. Do not fear. Till then, have a great night everyone!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-1282344277389104179?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/1282344277389104179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/10/college-life.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/1282344277389104179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/1282344277389104179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/10/college-life.html' title='College Life'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SsmdWTMwW2I/AAAAAAAAADY/Oj44OCTD72I/s72-c/heartwhoogas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-6272438335911406161</id><published>2009-05-21T23:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T23:48:29.195-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it a choice?</title><content type='html'>Is love a choice? I know a lot of people who would argue that love is an emotion. My dad has always told me that lust is an emotion, and love is a choice. I didn't always agree with him, but first hand experience has changed my mind.&lt;br /&gt;Emotions don't make me love him when he's feeling &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;depressed&lt;/span&gt;. Emotions don't make me love him when he's moody and upset. It's during those times that I choose to love him still, to listen and talk and help him work through it.&lt;br /&gt;Emotions don't make him love me when I'm in a bad mood. Emotions don't make him love me when I'm being irrational. Emotions don't make him love me when I've been too busy to talk for over a week, or when I'm going so fast that he doesn't even know what city I'm in. But he chooses to love me still. He chooses to let me rant. He chooses to let me cry and then tell me how much he loves me.&lt;br /&gt;If I let emotions dictate our relationship, I might have given up when people I trusted said that we would never last. When my friends turned away from me. Instead, when one of my friends told me I had to choose between him and her, I made my decision. I choose to love him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-6272438335911406161?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/6272438335911406161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/05/is-it-choice.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/6272438335911406161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/6272438335911406161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/05/is-it-choice.html' title='Is it a choice?'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-7796016334049870040</id><published>2009-05-13T23:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T23:53:55.897-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Ring</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/Sgu_74BWxWI/AAAAAAAAADQ/pjHGKixiKVk/s1600-h/DSCF0431.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335569218921743714" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 189px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/Sgu_74BWxWI/AAAAAAAAADQ/pjHGKixiKVk/s320/DSCF0431.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just had to put these up. I know they aren't great pictures, but I absolutely love the ring. We went for a walk today, just around the block. He stopped (right in the middle of the street) pulled out this ring, and asked me to marry him. He put the ring on my finger, and at that exact second a random black cat appeared out of nowhere. It was so funny. For some re&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/Sgu_IsgsjmI/AAAAAAAAADA/lrZu3iJVV9M/s1600-h/DSCF0431.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ason, it just seemed perfect, in an odd way.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/Sgu_iQcKVNI/AAAAAAAAADI/FsRvZrW_DQg/s1600-h/DSCF0422.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335568778800026834" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 233px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 175px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/Sgu_iQcKVNI/AAAAAAAAADI/FsRvZrW_DQg/s320/DSCF0422.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-7796016334049870040?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/7796016334049870040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/05/ring.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/7796016334049870040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/7796016334049870040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/05/ring.html' title='The Ring'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/Sgu_74BWxWI/AAAAAAAAADQ/pjHGKixiKVk/s72-c/DSCF0431.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-8103513083230120416</id><published>2009-05-13T18:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T18:24:55.467-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal</title><content type='html'>What happened to all men being created equal? Thomas Jefferson first stated that all men were equal in his drafting of the Declaration of Independence. Over the years, America has overcome many obstacles to become a country where all men are free, and all men have the same rights. People like Rosa Parks, Jackie Robison, and Martin Luther King Jr. struggled to make this country a safe place where all men could live together peacefully. Now, people like Maggie and John Anderson are undermining everything that we’ve worked so hard for.&lt;br /&gt;There is currently a “buy black” movement sweeping our nation. African Americans are being encouraged to only patronize businesses that are owned and run by other blacks. This is seen as not only a political statement, but also as a chance to support other blacks.&lt;br /&gt;What would happen if I let it be known that I only shopped at exclusively white establishments? Could I get 4,000 people to follow my progress on facebook? Would I be labeled a visionary? Would others praise me for taking a stand for my people? In all likelihood, no. I would be called racist. I would be accused of hating blacks. There would be public outrage at the fact that I was singling out other races and refusing to patronize their businesses. I would get emails calling me a “hater”. People like the Andersons would be crying out that laws be created to stop people from doing this type of thing.&lt;br /&gt;Maggie and John have a daughter, Cori. What is she learning from all of this? Is she learning that she lives in the land of the free? Is she learning about the men and women who have died for her freedom? Is she learning that, regardless of the tone of her skin and the tone of her neighbors, they are exactly the same? No. Her parents are, by example, teaching her that the color of her complexion does matter. That she is different, and perhaps even better, than others. Is this the equality Jefferson was referring to?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-8103513083230120416?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/8103513083230120416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/05/we-hold-these-truths-to-be-self-evident.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/8103513083230120416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/8103513083230120416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/05/we-hold-these-truths-to-be-self-evident.html' title='We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-7424840058268841283</id><published>2009-04-24T09:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T12:16:01.310-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who's Being Intolerant Now?</title><content type='html'>Perez Hilton, one of the judges for Miss America, asked Miss California how she feels about the gay marriage controversy. Miss California answered truthfully, replying that she did not, in fact, condone gay marriage. Now, it probably does not come as a surprise to you, but Miss California did not win the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pagent&lt;/span&gt;. Now Perez Hilton has posted &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;terribile&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;coments&lt;/span&gt; of the woman on his blog, calling her nasty names and saying that he is hurt and frustrated by her comments.&lt;br /&gt;What hurts and frustrates me is that this man, who claims that the rest of America should be "tolerant" of his lifestyle, is not tolerant of the lifestyle of a Christian woman. He, who "feels" like he loves other men, cannot let be a woman who is following the teachings of the man she believes is the Son of God.&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that the group that most often calls for tolerance of their beliefs is the least tolerant of others? Gays, lesbians, bisexuals, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;transgenders&lt;/span&gt; are always crying out the injustice of the world, in that no one is accepting of them. And yet they cannot accept that a person believes differently than they do. They cannot let it go that someones lifestyle is not the same as theirs. Why?&lt;br /&gt;One last thing I would like to point out is this. Miss California knew that she would likely lose the Miss America crown if she answered that question truthfully. She knows now that, if she had lied and said that she loved the idea of one man marrying another, she would probably be Miss America. She still answered the question, saying "I believe that a marriage should be between one man and one woman". I applaud her in her sticking to her beliefs. Not many women would these days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-7424840058268841283?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/7424840058268841283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/04/whos-being-intolerant-now.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/7424840058268841283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/7424840058268841283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/04/whos-being-intolerant-now.html' title='Who&apos;s Being Intolerant Now?'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-5222129919513007431</id><published>2009-04-21T17:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T19:26:12.904-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Obama's photo shoot</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/Se5_ef7ZktI/AAAAAAAAACw/MhnsG1MjLRE/s1600-h/obama.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327335571169317586" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 243px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/Se5_ef7ZktI/AAAAAAAAACw/MhnsG1MjLRE/s320/obama.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I'm not sure what my reaction should be. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The President of the United States has pictures on magazine covers of him in his swim suit. Should I laugh, at the fact that Americans are raving about how "hot" Barack Obama is? Should I be appalled that this picture is of him in no more than &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;underwear&lt;/span&gt;? Should I be amazed that America even finds the fact that Obama wears swim shorts "news worthy"? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My only input here is that, if Hilary Clinton had been elected, rather than Barack Obama, wouldn't there be public outrage if there were pictures published of her in a bikini?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-5222129919513007431?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/5222129919513007431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/04/obamas-photo-shoot.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/5222129919513007431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/5222129919513007431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/04/obamas-photo-shoot.html' title='Obama&apos;s photo shoot'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/Se5_ef7ZktI/AAAAAAAAACw/MhnsG1MjLRE/s72-c/obama.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-5076223590025624726</id><published>2009-04-14T23:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T06:22:29.164-07:00</updated><title type='text'>His Dream Woman?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Seen on Britain's Got Talent&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-7ca65d3d0f773b6d" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v16.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D7ca65d3d0f773b6d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331608516%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D312D1ABD556DCF841438214DFBF71233AEC04FE5.3E5BDABDC204995C2F966C8CF3AB78F9A33444E3%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D7ca65d3d0f773b6d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DrejwSNNOUNjt8BcjH0e04wf3M6g&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v16.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D7ca65d3d0f773b6d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331608516%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D312D1ABD556DCF841438214DFBF71233AEC04FE5.3E5BDABDC204995C2F966C8CF3AB78F9A33444E3%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D7ca65d3d0f773b6d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DrejwSNNOUNjt8BcjH0e04wf3M6g&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have to admit, when I first saw this video I thought that Susan Boyle would be terrible. I thought that she was one of those people they show just to prove how horrible some contestants really are. Her apperance and her demeanor led me to doubt whether or not she was actually serious. No one appearing as she does could possibly have any hope of winning a contest such as this, I thought. Then she started singing.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I suppose this is a good time to reiterate that age old saying, &lt;em&gt;you can't judge a book by it's cover&lt;/em&gt;. Susan Boyle is not at all what she seems. Her voice is simply amazing to listen to. Assuming her appearence is all there is to her is a major mistake that could have cost the world the pleasure of hearing her sing. Fortunately, someone saw fit to take her seriously, actually listen to her audition, and put her on stage. Fortunately, Miss Boyle (who has never been kissed, let alone had a serious boyfriend) saw fit to grace the jeering crowd with her song. Fortunately, the idiots in the crowd had the good sense to know true wonder when they heard it, and they actually shut up. I expect that not too long from now, we will be hearing of a new single being released from Britain, from a previously unknown Susan Boyle.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I think that this is also a good time to point out Simon's facial expressions. At 2:23, 2:42, and especially at 4:23, he appears to be simply enraptured. Is it possible that Simon has found his dream woman? Could it be true love? Will he leave Paula's side for this British unkown? Who knows? With Simon, anything is possible!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-5076223590025624726?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=7ca65d3d0f773b6d&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/5076223590025624726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/04/his-dream-woman.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/5076223590025624726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/5076223590025624726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/04/his-dream-woman.html' title='His Dream Woman?'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-2935339574204544189</id><published>2009-04-12T17:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T17:41:29.027-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Easter Tradition</title><content type='html'>I have an Easter tradition. Yes, I, who have no traditions, actually do something consistently, every year. I watch Grote Kunst Voor Kleine Mensen: Chocolade haas. I love it. There is true art and beauty in this video. It is only 2 minutes and 36 seconds. And yet it is amazing. Pure genius.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T-SZYZLfZ7E"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T-SZYZLfZ7E&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is something beautiful in the rippeling chocolate. Something symbolic in the melting of the bunny. Do you not agree with me? Happy Easter everyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-2935339574204544189?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/2935339574204544189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-easter-tradition.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/2935339574204544189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/2935339574204544189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-easter-tradition.html' title='My Easter Tradition'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-1573794536245967529</id><published>2009-04-08T22:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T22:41:01.802-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Taking absurd too far</title><content type='html'>In the age of stupidity, we as a race have managed to take the absurd to a whole new level. Let's recap. In the last few weeks, the President of the United States gifted the Queen of England with an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;iPod&lt;/span&gt;, complete with uploads of his speeches. He did not, however, deem it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;necessary&lt;/span&gt; to grace her with a bow, as he did the King of Saudi Arabia. In America, it seems that multiple people have been struck with the sudden urge to go on killing rampages, decapitating their five year old sisters and shooting up nursing homes. In the United Kingdom, a 12 year old is a father, and then he is not. Schools across America are banning high fives. A 12 year old girl in Canada sued her father; and won.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, you read that right. No, she didn't sue him for abusing her. She didn't sue him for taking advantage of her, or treating her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;inappropriately&lt;/span&gt;. She sued him for grounding her from a school field trip.&lt;br /&gt;Her crime? Accessing chat sites online that had previously been banned in the household. Uploading "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;inappropriate&lt;/span&gt;" pictures of herself using a friends computer.&lt;br /&gt;Her punishment? Not being allowed to attend a school trip that her mother (who, at the time, lived &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;separate&lt;/span&gt; from her husband and child) said she could go on.&lt;br /&gt;Her response? Not screaming. Not crying. Not even sneaking out. She took her father to court. Suzanne &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Tessier&lt;/span&gt;, the judge presiding over the case, sided with the 12 year old. The court lifted her grounding. Of course, the father and his attorney are already working on an appeal, but what good is that going to do?&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, other children are going to hear about this case. They are going to say, "Hey. If she could do it, why can't I? I don't want to be restricted from TV because I wouldn't eat my green beans, so I'm going to sue my mother". Parents are going to be constantly on the look out for signs that their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;preteens&lt;/span&gt; have contacted an attorney.&lt;br /&gt;This girl's relationship with her father will never be the same. She's twelve years old! What is she going to do when she needs a father's guidance? "Hey Dad, I'm really sorry about suing you three years ago. But I've got this guy that I really like, and I was wondering if you could tell me if he likes me for me, or for my body"? Or maybe, "Look, I know I sued you and all, but will you walk me down the aisle next weekend? It's sort of my wedding..."? What about him? Will he ever be able to trust his sweet little girl again? Can he ever be around her without expecting her to stab him in the back?&lt;br /&gt;What's next people? Will two year olds actually get an end to nap time? Will four year olds sue for emotional damage? Will eight year olds begin demanding equal rights in their households? Where will it end?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-1573794536245967529?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/1573794536245967529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/04/taking-absurd-too-far.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/1573794536245967529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/1573794536245967529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/04/taking-absurd-too-far.html' title='Taking absurd too far'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-3818590859799237275</id><published>2009-04-08T17:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T17:52:47.455-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Tale of Two Bows</title><content type='html'>So. Here we have a video of Barack Obama, bowing. Twice. The first time to the Queen of England, and the second time to the king of Saudi Arabia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4gJtIss7xso&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4gJtIss7xso&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;...What do you think? The first bow is that expected of the President of the United States. A bit nondescript, and probably too small for political correctness sakes, but still good. The second, however, is that of a servant bowing to his master. Where is this man going to lead us? Who else will he bow down to? He is representing the American people. His little stunt proclaimed to the world that we bow down to another country. Whatever would George Washington have said about that? What would he have thought about the country he fought to free bowing down to Saudi Arabia?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-3818590859799237275?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/3818590859799237275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/04/tale-of-two-bows.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/3818590859799237275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/3818590859799237275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/04/tale-of-two-bows.html' title='A Tale of Two Bows'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-456629303950006330</id><published>2009-04-07T19:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T19:45:07.378-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Shiny!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SdwPqLWGZcI/AAAAAAAAACo/cIAgdzaovAU/s1600-h/DSCF0155.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322146076919489986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SdwPqLWGZcI/AAAAAAAAACo/cIAgdzaovAU/s320/DSCF0155.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday I bought a new iPod. Not because I broke my last one in an utterly stupid fall, as most of my friends would first suppose, but because my last one has dissapeared. Not the "Oh no! I think I left my iPod in her car" dissapeared, but the "I know I left it sitting here in my cubby, and now it's gone" dissapeared. So, I bought a brand new, purple (yes, the picture looks blue, but it's just the lighting at my desk) nano.&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever noticed that having something new makes one feel very special? I have all of the same music I've had since forever on my new iPod, but for some reason, it feels special. I want to listen to the same tired, worn, and over heard songs that I had before, simply because they are being played on a shiny, dark purple, oh so slender, brand new iPod. I love that it feels so tiny in my hands. I love that the screen is not yet scratched. I just wish it could stay that way...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-456629303950006330?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/456629303950006330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/04/its-shiny.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/456629303950006330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/456629303950006330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/04/its-shiny.html' title='It&apos;s Shiny!'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SdwPqLWGZcI/AAAAAAAAACo/cIAgdzaovAU/s72-c/DSCF0155.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-263115042136502969</id><published>2009-04-01T17:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T23:09:01.297-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Equality?</title><content type='html'>Where is the justice in the system? I know a girl who's father has what, in today's economy, could be considered a decent job. She has several siblings, and her family is in no way considered "wealthy". I know another girl who has one sibling who is still living at home. Her father works a good job, but she also is not considered "wealthy". The first girl is very intelligent, very hard working, and would give anything to go to college. With the amount of children her family has, there is simply no way they can afford it however. The second is also smart, but doesn't put in nearly as much effort, and had other options besides college, if that didn't work out for her. Both girls applied for scholarships. One got a full ride and the other got nothing. The first girl now has no way to go to college, and the second has multiple schools to choose from. Why? Not because she deserves it more, but because of the color of her skin. The first girl has white parents, and the second has &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mexican&lt;/span&gt; parents. When these two were considered for scholarships, it wasn't their academic records that were scrutinized. It was the color of their skin. Weren't we supposed to be past this? What's completely unfair is that a hardworking, deserving girl, will not go to college simply because she is white, simply because she is not a minority. I don't have any hard feelings for the second girl; she didn't choose the color of the skin she was born with. She didn't say "I want to be a minority so I will be given special treatment". Just like the other girl didn't ask to be born white. So why is it our country rewards and punishes people for the color of their skin? For something they cannot control?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-263115042136502969?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/263115042136502969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/04/equality.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/263115042136502969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/263115042136502969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/04/equality.html' title='Equality?'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-2650910959684428217</id><published>2009-03-30T15:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T18:10:17.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rick Wagoner has left the building</title><content type='html'>Rick Wagoner has handed in his resignation.&lt;br /&gt;Now, I understand that this may not seem relevant to you; you may not even know who Mr. Wagoner is. It should be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;relevant&lt;/span&gt;, however.&lt;br /&gt;The Chairman and CEO of General Motors stepped down today, at the request of Barack Obama.&lt;br /&gt;After a 30 year career with the company, the President of the United States told Mr. Wagoner that unless he stepped down, GM would not be receiving any more money from the government. Rick did not HAVE to step down; he could have refused. I'm sure that would have made him very popular at the office Christmas party.&lt;br /&gt;It frightens me somewhat that our government has decided that they have to have control over private businesses as well as government run operations. It frightens me that the government has the power to do this. It frightens me that the one man in the position to cause this to happen is willing to take that step. What does President Obama hope to gain from this action?&lt;br /&gt;True, I don't know whether or not Rick Wagoner was a good CEO and I don't know if his leaving is going to be good for the company or not. I do know that, as far as I've heard, GM is still a private business, and the government should not be controlling it. Your thoughts on the matter? Was President Obama right in making his ultimatum? Should he have let things be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to read more about Rick Wagoner and his leaving, follow this link. &lt;a href="http://www.politico.com/news/stories/0309/20625.html"&gt;http://www.politico.com/news/stories/0309/20625.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-2650910959684428217?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/2650910959684428217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/03/rick-wagoner-has-handed-in-his.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/2650910959684428217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/2650910959684428217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/03/rick-wagoner-has-handed-in-his.html' title='Rick Wagoner has left the building'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-7007471910520916819</id><published>2009-03-29T23:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T23:58:45.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Twilight Zone</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;...I'll admit it. I was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few months ago, I went and saw the Twilight movie with some friends. I hated it. Thus, I never read the books. The movie was simply terrible, and I couldn't believe all the hype that surrounded it. Honestly people! He's not that cute! So I simply shoved the books aside at my local Borders, and tried to stay out of the way of the creepy fans who would beat up anyone who bad mouthed the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cullens&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;A few days ago, I was talking to a few of the girls at the restaurant. Our conversation was long, and involved many off topic tangents about who is dating whom, and who just bought a new house, and who didn't, and other such things that would make for very boring reading.&lt;br /&gt;The end result of the conversation was that I, apparently, have been quite stupid in my thinking that the books would be just as bad as the movie, and quite inconsiderate of Stephenie Meyer as an author. So, I took myself to Target (actually, I rode with my mother, who was already going to Target for something unrelated) and bought the first book.&lt;br /&gt;This brings us to present day. Three days later, I have had to make another trip to Target to buy the second book, simply because I could not stop at the end of the first. I read quickly, but these last few days, having time in the dressing room at the theater, have given me more than enough time to read and contemplate my quick judgement on the Twilight series.&lt;br /&gt;The writing, while not incredible by any means, is not to horrible. The plot, not coming close to shockingly original, has &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;surprisingly&lt;/span&gt; and refreshingly deviated from the norm. Nothing about an independent female showing her guy how she doesn't need him, and him groveling at her feet to take him back after he cheated on her with her best friends sister. Even the vampires are not the kind you normally hear about in pop culture.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, they're sexy. Yes, they have mad skills. These vampires, however, are not your average, human hunting, "Must-taste-your-blood" bad dudes. They have feelings. They have emotions. They have regrets. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;sparkly&lt;/span&gt; skin is an added bonus.&lt;br /&gt;All things considered,, I must regret that I was so superficial to pass these books by before. If you have not read them, and you're only reason for doing so is that you don't want to get caught up in the hype, or that the movie was too painful to even recall, than please, do yourself a favor, and read one. Just one. Give it an honest try. I would be willing to bet that they aren't half as bad as you think they will be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-7007471910520916819?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/7007471910520916819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/03/twilight-zone.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/7007471910520916819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/7007471910520916819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/03/twilight-zone.html' title='Twilight Zone'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-3027049251352455402</id><published>2009-03-15T21:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T21:59:09.986-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What about tomorrow?</title><content type='html'>I was thinking about what to write tonight, and I realized that all that is on my heart is the future. I know, I'm saying that that is all, and that seems a bit &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;inadequate&lt;/span&gt;; but when you've been thinking about the future for the last 8 or 9 months, it seems a little redundant to think about it again. It's beginning to feel like tomorrow is coming too soon, but it will never get here. Have you ever felt like that? Like you don't have enough time, but you wish you had less? Maybe I'm not making much sense. Or, maybe I've hit upon that great, unattainable theory that wakes us up in the middle of the night, but in the morning you can never remember what that thought was that pulled you out of you're &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Lunesta&lt;/span&gt; induced slumber. Then again, it might be the question itself that is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Lunesta&lt;/span&gt; induced...&lt;br /&gt;So. The future. It's yet to come. And yet it is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;coming&lt;/span&gt;. It scares me, and excites me. It motivates me, and it makes me want &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;to hide&lt;/span&gt; under the covers. Is their a way to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;successfully&lt;/span&gt; do both?&lt;br /&gt;While I contemplate a way to make myself into two people so I can satisfy both personalities that seem to be warring inside of me at the moment, let me leave you with this. People in our current culture &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;will tell&lt;/span&gt; you to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;seize&lt;/span&gt; the day, and not worry about tomorrow. This brilliant &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;philosophy&lt;/span&gt; has contributed greatly to our current economic disaster. It's also been a major cause in the decline of America's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;morals&lt;/span&gt;. Please do worry about tomorrow. Think about the consequences of your actions. How will your decisions today affect you tomorrow? How will they influence me the day after that? And my children, the day after that?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-3027049251352455402?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/3027049251352455402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/03/what-about-tomorrow.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/3027049251352455402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/3027049251352455402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/03/what-about-tomorrow.html' title='What about tomorrow?'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-6774751805437661603</id><published>2009-02-28T23:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T23:13:31.221-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quails, Mullets, and Pig Tails</title><content type='html'>I was looking through some old pictures today that were taken when I was very young. Now, most girls mother's recognize that their job is to protect their young, innocent daughters from the cruelty of this world. My mother thrust me to the lions. Some of the oldest pictures of me show a little girl with her hair pulled tight to the top of her head, tied off with a hair tie, and then splayed out in all directions to make her look like a quail. As I got older, my father grew my hair out some. My mother wanted to cut it, but my dad wouldn't let her take any off the back. So she did what any reasonable (not) mother would do. She gave me a mullet. Yeah, I'm not joking. A mullet. Then they let it grow out some, and I had the worst pigtails you could ever imagine. Eventually, she cut it all off into a short, and what could have been cute, bob. Except for the fact that my father dressed me like a boy. The boys clothing, added to the short hair, made me look like the son he always wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some day, I will be sitting in a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;psychiatrists&lt;/span&gt; office, and we will come to the conclusion that the reason I am so messed up is that my parents gave me horrible haircuts when I was young.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-6774751805437661603?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/6774751805437661603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/02/quails-mullets-and-pig-tails.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/6774751805437661603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/6774751805437661603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/02/quails-mullets-and-pig-tails.html' title='Quails, Mullets, and Pig Tails'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-4381252925690152398</id><published>2009-02-27T12:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T14:18:35.362-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Have you heard the story about the railroad employee?</title><content type='html'>There was a man who had a job at a railroad working a draw bridge. He would leave the draw bridge up at all times, except for when a train was coming. Then, he would lower it until the train had safely passed. This man lived not far from the draw bridge; in fact, his daughter and son often walked to bring their father lunch. One day, the man was getting ready to let down the bridge for a quickly approaching train, when he spotted his four year old son walking across the tracks. As the father watched, the son's shoes slipped in between the ties and he became stuck. The moment that the father realized his son's predicament, he saw the train coming around the corner. It was then that the gravity of the situation struck him in full force. If he ran down to the tracks to save his son, the draw bridge would not be lowered in time, and dozens, possibly hundreds, of people would die. If he lowered the bridge, he would never have the time to save his son. So the man pulled the lever that lowered the draw bridge. As the train that had crushed his son flew by, all the man could do was stare through the windows as the tears streamed down his face. A man was reading the newspaper. Another was listening to his iPod. A woman read a book to her son. All of these people continued on with their lives, not knowing that a man had given his son so that they could have these privelages that so many took for granted. If any of them had known of the sacrifice, would they have even cared?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-4381252925690152398?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/4381252925690152398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/02/have-you-heard-story-about-railroad.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/4381252925690152398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/4381252925690152398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/02/have-you-heard-story-about-railroad.html' title='Have you heard the story about the railroad employee?'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-7685974076662307681</id><published>2009-02-26T09:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T09:35:53.310-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What makes a person a “real” grown-up?</title><content type='html'>Re: “Facebook Members are Aging Rapidly” Published in the Bee on Feb. 26, 2009. The writer says “(Facebook) is exploding in popularity among grown-ups. The real kind. The kind over 35.” Is that what defines a grown-up? Being over 35? What makes a forty year old man who plays video games and drinks all day any more responsible than a twenty-five year old with a wife and kids, working two jobs to get by? I don’t think that our society can afford to be so stereotypical that we classify adults as only someone over the age of 35. I know plenty of younger people who are more responsible than these so called grown-ups. I’m not saying these things to “bash” adults, but merely to point out that the number of years you have been on this earth does not, in any way, determine your maturity. What’s your opinion? What makes a person a “grown-up”?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-7685974076662307681?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/7685974076662307681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/02/what-makes-person-real-grown-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/7685974076662307681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/7685974076662307681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/02/what-makes-person-real-grown-up.html' title='What makes a person a “real” grown-up?'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-9090063261246123970</id><published>2009-02-25T11:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T11:53:51.846-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mark Twain said it best</title><content type='html'>I will not be reposting the comment on here, but if you wish to see what spurred this piece, read the third comment left on my blog about Tim Petras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anonymous (perhaps because you don't wish me to really know who you are) said that we "Christians" are messed up. To begin with, by generalizing us as "you Christians" you are becoming that which you rant against. You are discriminating against me because of my lifestyle, because of a choice I have made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, you ask "If Tim is not doing this because he really is a woman, than is he doing it just because he feels like it?" I stated that no 2 year old, let alone 12 year old, would believe he was a woman if left alone. The world has made it so that all children hear is that they can be different if they want to be. In other words, we want you to be different. Here is a list of all the ways you can be different. Pick one, any one! We won't stop you! I'm all for individuality, but let's not pour sin into our children's minds, because we want them to "express" themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will not "shut up". This is a blog. My blog. You have the option of not reading it. Just as I have the option of not reading your comment. Free speach is still allowed in America. Perhaps not for long, but it is allowed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not ignorant, as I spent time researching my topic before writing on it. Please do not state that I am, because in doing so you are proving your own ignorance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I am done replying to the comment made by "Anonymous". I actually love reading comments like that. Surprising? Not really, when you step back and look at the picture. Comments like that mean that I am making people think. Which is the purpose behind my writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like what Mark Twain said. When you find yourself on the side of the majority, it's time to take a step back and reflect. I think that the same concept applies when everyone is suddenly agreeing with everything you say, or write. At that time, it's prudent to reflect on what you are saying. Comments like the one left by Anonymous mean that my writing is not like everyone else's. I am not just repeating what the world says, but I am thinking for myself. A good thing, yes?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-9090063261246123970?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/9090063261246123970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/02/mark-twain-said-it-best.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/9090063261246123970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/9090063261246123970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/02/mark-twain-said-it-best.html' title='Mark Twain said it best'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-6790975723613011464</id><published>2009-02-17T22:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T22:52:18.602-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The hardest words I'll ever say</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SZuwDSpZxbI/AAAAAAAAACg/J1r2bO-Aw9s/s1600-h/untitled4.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304026556750480818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SZuwDSpZxbI/AAAAAAAAACg/J1r2bO-Aw9s/s320/untitled4.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes, the hardest thing a person ever has to do is say goodbye. It's such a simple word, but it hides a complexity that not many can guess. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It doesn't matter to whom the goodbyes must be said, they still carry a hidden emotional impact. The word itself is associated with leaving, endings, sadness, finality. Seldom is it considered to be a happy circumstance when one leaves. Even more so when one wants nothing more than to stay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have said goodbye to many people. Friends, family members, classmates. After a while, one would suppose that they would become easier, more routine. This is not the case. I would argue that they get harder each time they come, that every goodbye takes more effort than the last.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Unfortunately, goodbyes are a part of life. Without goodbyes, we would have no need for hellos. We have no joyful reunions, nothing to look forward to. Everything has a purpose, even tearful farewells.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The realization that they are necessary does not make goodbyes any easier. Knowing that time apart will one day end does though. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;All this being said, I will wipe my eyes, refocus my mind, and know that this goodbye, at least, will only last for a short time. I will prepare myself for the longer goodbyes that are not too far off in the future, and I will savor the time I have with people now, because I know that this time will not last forever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Although we knew this time would come for me and you, don't say anything tonight, if you're gonna say goodbye"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-6790975723613011464?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/6790975723613011464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/02/hardest-words-ill-ever-say.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/6790975723613011464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/6790975723613011464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/02/hardest-words-ill-ever-say.html' title='The hardest words I&apos;ll ever say'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SZuwDSpZxbI/AAAAAAAAACg/J1r2bO-Aw9s/s72-c/untitled4.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-5627191807353452091</id><published>2009-02-15T21:09:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T21:09:46.414-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fried Pickles</title><content type='html'>I wrote this last year, directly after moving to Virginia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            This last week, my family and I had the opportunity to travel, by van, across country. Moving from California to Virginia, we have literally been from coast to coast. The experience was something totally new to us, something we had never done before.&lt;br /&gt;            Road trips are something of a foreign concept to my family. The farthest we usually go is to see my grandparents, a ninety minute drive. There was the occasional drive to the ocean, five hours or so. But that’s about it. So taking seven days to see America was a new and exciting adventure.&lt;br /&gt;            I must admit that I wasn’t too crazy about the idea. Seven days in the car with my siblings is not exactly my idea of fun. There was tension about the move, bickering over which movie to watch next, fighting over who got to sit where. The usual. And, of course, my sister and I joined forces and convinced our mom to outlaw the removal of my brother’s shoes while in the van. But the trip wasn’t all bad.&lt;br /&gt;            The scenery was simply beautiful. The different landscapes across the country are fascinating, from the plains of Arizona, to the hills of North Carolina. And the sightseeing was neat as well. We saw petrified wood in New Mexico, the Cadillac Ranch in Texas, and the Mississippi. And then, there were The Fried Pickles.&lt;br /&gt;            I wanted to try them as soon as I heard the waitress ask if we wanted some. After all, they’re pickles. Pickles are the most wonderful food ever, good in just about any was, shape or form. But then again, they were fried. Fried Pickles. Who eats fried pickles?&lt;br /&gt;            So, even though we were doubtful, we ordered The Fried Pickles. And yes, they were good. Very good. In fact, The Fried Pickles were amazing. I horded most of the plate, grudgingly allowing my dad and grandma a few. I ate so many of The Fried Pickles that I couldn’t finish my meal. But this delicious appetizer taught me something.&lt;br /&gt;            I tried something entirely new while on our trip. And, I realized that there are good things in every situation, even moving across country. I did find a new favorite dish, didn’t I? There are a lot of things that I don’t know about living in Virginia. Driving laws, hunting laws, even laws about the fences we put up. But I do know one thing. If I ever return to Amarillo Texas, I will be dining on Fried Pickles at the Hoffbrau Steaks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-5627191807353452091?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/5627191807353452091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/02/fried-pickles.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/5627191807353452091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/5627191807353452091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/02/fried-pickles.html' title='Fried Pickles'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-4345209367239244856</id><published>2009-02-05T20:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T20:41:00.262-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tim, I mean Kim, Petras</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SYu8490tsZI/AAAAAAAAABo/lyA4n2KqvcY/s1600-h/tim+petras.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299537073385877906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SYu8490tsZI/AAAAAAAAABo/lyA4n2KqvcY/s320/tim+petras.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299537073155418914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 206px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SYu8489xKyI/AAAAAAAAABw/KsARDrB_kr0/s320/kim+petras.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking at those two pictures, you would never guess that they are of the same person. No, I'm not kidding you. The first picture is of a young boy named Tim  Petras. When he was sixteen years Tim had an operation and became Kim. I cannot, in good conscience, call "Kim" a she. I'm sorry, but when he was born, Tim was very much a boy. That is how he was meant to be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When Tim was twelve, he began hormone treatments. Twelve! He says that he has "known" he was a woman since he was two. I do not believe that any young boy can know he is a woman, at two or at twelve! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The operation required to turn Tim's body into that of a female was illegal until he reached the age of sixteen. Now that he is of appropriate maturity, Tim can legally declare himself a female. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I was asked if I feel like a woman now, but the truth is I have always felt like a woman -- I just ended up in the wrong body" You cannot "end up" in the wrong body. That is implying that a mistake has been made. Sorry, but God does not make mistakes. One cannot simply decide that he, or she, is not satisfied with the gender that they are and change it to suite their desires! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Unfortunately, this is the world as we know it. Our society is slowly (or perhaps not so slowly) losing sight of what is good and right, and letting their morals fall by the side. It scares me to think of what will happen to our world in the hands of men such as this one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-4345209367239244856?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/4345209367239244856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/02/tim-i-mean-kim-petras.html#comment-form' title='47 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/4345209367239244856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/4345209367239244856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/02/tim-i-mean-kim-petras.html' title='Tim, I mean Kim, Petras'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SYu8490tsZI/AAAAAAAAABo/lyA4n2KqvcY/s72-c/tim+petras.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>47</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-8709336370324771946</id><published>2009-02-04T14:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T15:09:46.897-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let her be a kid!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SYoVBAIKzMI/AAAAAAAAABg/d7BoC2-UNyU/s1600-h/0202_miley_cyrus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299071018513124546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 205px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SYoVBAIKzMI/AAAAAAAAABg/d7BoC2-UNyU/s320/0202_miley_cyrus.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have you heard about Miley Cyrus' newest scandal? It seems that she is now racist for pretending to be asian. Now, I have almost no respect for Miley as a singer, and none for her as an actress. However, as a fellow teenage girl, I feel I must stick by her side on this one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have a friend who does an "angry southern black woman" impersonation. You know how a southern black woman sounds when she gets angry. This is not racial profiling, it's simply the truth. Everyone knows that when she starts shouting, "Get yo lazy butt in dis house raight naow!" Ya bette stop whadeva it is ya'll ah doin, an' get in dat house! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have another friend who pretends to be a "sassy lil white girl". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tDPPK1CfTbA"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tDPPK1CfTbA&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is just a portion of it, but it's one of the funniest things ever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We don't just pick on whites and blacks though. With my group of friends, there is an equal share of fat jokes, tall jokes, mexican jokes, asian jokes, and pleanty of jokes about the Irish. And shortness. (I don't have that much of a temper! And just because I'm short does not make me a leprechaun!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We don't make these jokes to be mean, or racist. We do it because it's funny, and because we're able to laugh about ourselves. We aren't targeting one specific group, in fact, we make fun of ourselves more than anything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why is it Miley is being picked on for this? Yeah, she's a role model for young kids. Yeah, she should watch what she does in front of those kids. Should she have stop being a kid herself for these same reasons? I don't think so. What's your opinion on the matter?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-8709336370324771946?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/8709336370324771946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/02/let-her-be-kid.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/8709336370324771946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/8709336370324771946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/02/let-her-be-kid.html' title='Let her be a kid!'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SYoVBAIKzMI/AAAAAAAAABg/d7BoC2-UNyU/s72-c/0202_miley_cyrus.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-5801830610770613632</id><published>2009-02-02T00:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T00:13:31.382-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Walking Out</title><content type='html'>Tonight at the restaurant, one of the servers, we'll call her "May", lost a table. They came in, sat down, ordered, ate, were given the bill, and then walked out. They even took the book with them!&lt;br /&gt;With today's economic hard times, walking out may seem like a great idea to any one whose wallet is not as full as they would like. Just come in, eat, and wait until the servers and hosts are otherwise occupied. Then, slip out the door and act like nothing ever happened.&lt;br /&gt;What this couple failed to realize is this. May, who is a mother with an honest job, had to pick up the tab. She paid the bill out of her hard earned wages. These two got away with a free meal, and May had to PAY for the privelage of serving it to them. Is our society so depraved that this does not strike any one else as horribly unjust?!&lt;br /&gt;The only thing I can say is "May, honey, leave yourself a big tip."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-5801830610770613632?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/5801830610770613632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/02/walking-out.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/5801830610770613632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/5801830610770613632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/02/walking-out.html' title='Walking Out'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-1339680424053922259</id><published>2009-01-30T11:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T11:47:16.690-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just let me do my job!</title><content type='html'>Part of my job is holding the door open for guests who are entering or leaving the restaurant. It's what I get paid to do. If I don't do it, my boss will get upset at me. This is why I really hate it when I go to open the door for someone, and the person insists on holding the door open with one hand above my head, smiling that condescending smile.&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, do I look so small and helpless that I cannot hold that big door open on my own?! Not to mention, the door actually stays open on it's own, I just stand there and LOOK like I'm holding it. Really, I can do it.&lt;br /&gt;I also don't like the people who come in and say "You have the easiest job ever. This is all you do all day, and you get paid for it" and then walk out. Yeah, I get paid for it. But I also get paid to go and clean up that huge mess you just left for me at your table. Honestly, did you really have to spill the Equal all over the place?!&lt;br /&gt;I'm done ranting, but let me close with this. We don't work at a restaurant because we just love having kids throw french fries at our faces, and we don't do it because we honestly enjoy crawling under tables to get the napkins dropped down there. We do it because it is a job, and it pays. Jobs that pay aren't exactly easy to come by these days. So please, be respectful, at least, of the fact that we are working, and not sitting at home complaining about the economy. Don't make our job harder on us, or make dumb remarks. Just come in, enjoy your food, and for goodness sake, just thank your server!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-1339680424053922259?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/1339680424053922259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/01/just-let-me-do-my-job.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/1339680424053922259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/1339680424053922259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/01/just-let-me-do-my-job.html' title='Just let me do my job!'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-459557994808871543</id><published>2009-01-30T11:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T11:24:32.114-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My letter to the editor</title><content type='html'>Wednesday, January 28, 2009, saw the letter “Insourcing Solutions for the Economy” published in the Bee. The first point I would like to make is this. According to the Merriam-Webster online dictionary, the word “insourcing” does not even exist. This is not the fault of the writer of the letter, but it is the fault of the editor of the paper.&lt;br /&gt;My second point is this. The writer of the afore-mentioned letter believed that raising tariffs and stopping foreign trade would save our economy. Did this person ever read their history book? It just so happens that on the morning of the 28th, I was studying the Great Depression.&lt;br /&gt;After the stock market crashed, tariffs were raised and foreign imports and exports became non-existent. The Fordney-McCumber Tariff, passed in 1922, established a wall preventing trade between Europe and the United States. This did not stimulate the economy, but rather crippled it. There was no place for American made goods to go, and the goods produced in America were to highly priced for those citizens who were out of work.&lt;br /&gt;This may seem insignificant to most, but to me it points out a truth that should be glaringly obvious. Americans today are too wrapped up in their own world to take the time to review history. The saying goes, “history repeats itself”; and it does. How can we ever better our circumstances if we do not learn from the mistakes made by those who came before us?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-459557994808871543?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/459557994808871543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-letter-to-editor.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/459557994808871543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/459557994808871543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-letter-to-editor.html' title='My letter to the editor'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-2815450793431741696</id><published>2009-01-25T17:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T17:57:18.955-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramblings in an airport</title><content type='html'>Have you ever seen the move, The Terminal? If not, go watch it. Right now. Stop reading this blog, get the movie, put it in and watch it. Then come back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, now that you've watched the movie...I'm sitting in the airport staring at people. People in airports are really very interesting. It's like they turn into different creatures when they travel. People who are probably, in every day life, very nice people, are suddenly not nice at all. They push, shove, yell, curse, and are generally cruel to those around them. It's almost as if they believe that their fellow travelers are the direct cause of their discomfort!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise you, I have brought no discomfort to anyone intentionally today. I really just want to get home, just like the rest of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to my original intent, The Terminal. That poor man is stuck living in an airport. I'm starting to wonder if I'll ever get out. Perhaps, this is an elaborate scheme to trap me here, and I will never get home! Perhaps they are all out to get me! Somebody save me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, melt down is officially over. I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this airport is filled with hundreds of people. Where are they all going? Is that woman examining the books headed to an authors convention? What about that man sitting next to me, eating sushi? Where is he going? Maybe, he's a spy for Italy; or Germany. He's scouting out our airports, looking at our transportation. Or maybe he's just a weary traveler, looking for some food, quiet, and rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe, just maybe, I'm too tired to be thinking such large thoughts. Maybe I should keep my thoughts small, for the time being. Small thoughts, such as where the nearest trash can is. Or where I can plug my computer in. At least until I get some sleep. Small thoughts. That's it. Hey! That man looks like Tom Hanks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-2815450793431741696?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/2815450793431741696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/01/ramblings-in-airport.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/2815450793431741696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/2815450793431741696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/01/ramblings-in-airport.html' title='Ramblings in an airport'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-8016852172787358908</id><published>2009-01-24T20:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T20:08:08.997-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The other end</title><content type='html'>While visiting a college this past weekend, I had the opportunity to observe someone from the other side. By "Other side" I most definately mean those who happen to be vertically blessed. You know, the ones who, rather than hearing "you're short!" are always told "Wow! You're really tall!"&lt;br /&gt;It turns out that this person I observed is 6 feet and 10 inches tall. Which, consequently, happens to be a little over two feet taller than me. 24 1/2 inches, to be exact. Which, if you didn't know, is a lot. Yeah, he's tall.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure that this poor young man absolutely hates hearing people comment on his height. I think I might. It is heartening, however, to know that we short people aren't the only extremes out there. True, we probably hear more about it since no one is afraid that the little short girl is going to hit them, but at least I know that, as an abnormality, I am not alone. So I will continue being an abnormal girl just living her abnormal life; but I won't do it by myself. Join with me, and we will be weird together! Freaks of the world unite!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-8016852172787358908?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/8016852172787358908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/01/other-end.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/8016852172787358908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/8016852172787358908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/01/other-end.html' title='The other end'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-2249786090994891705</id><published>2009-01-21T17:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T17:23:57.344-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If It Was Only Me</title><content type='html'>As you hung on the cross&lt;br /&gt;Did you think of me&lt;br /&gt;And know that someday&lt;br /&gt;I would be one of the lost?&lt;br /&gt;Did you hear me as I prayed&lt;br /&gt;Hear my plea&lt;br /&gt;Did you know my plight&lt;br /&gt;And know that it was me you saved?&lt;br /&gt;If I was the only one&lt;br /&gt;Would you still have lived&lt;br /&gt;Would you still have died&lt;br /&gt;If it was only me, would you still have come?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That little baby&lt;br /&gt;Born one silent night&lt;br /&gt;Too pure for this world&lt;br /&gt;Peace among our fights&lt;br /&gt;That eve was so cold&lt;br /&gt;That stable so rough&lt;br /&gt;The gifts from the wise men&lt;br /&gt;Weren’t even enough&lt;br /&gt;Son of God&lt;br /&gt;The prince over all&lt;br /&gt;Still came to this earth&lt;br /&gt;To save those who fall&lt;br /&gt;As you lay in that hay&lt;br /&gt;Did you know&lt;br /&gt;That you would die&lt;br /&gt;For the world’s sins one day?&lt;br /&gt;When you were still so young&lt;br /&gt;Did you know&lt;br /&gt;That you would die&lt;br /&gt;That this was why you had come?&lt;br /&gt;Even then&lt;br /&gt;Did you know me&lt;br /&gt;Did you love me&lt;br /&gt;Way back when?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life is tainted with sin&lt;br /&gt;I’m covered in darkness&lt;br /&gt;I can’t be perfect&lt;br /&gt;Even if I try my best&lt;br /&gt;Why would he come&lt;br /&gt;For someone like me&lt;br /&gt;Worthless as I am&lt;br /&gt;Why would he want to set me free?&lt;br /&gt;In the eyes of the world&lt;br /&gt;I’m not good enough&lt;br /&gt;I’m not significant&lt;br /&gt;Not worth his love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you hung on the cross&lt;br /&gt;Did you think of me&lt;br /&gt;And know that someday&lt;br /&gt;I would be one of the lost?&lt;br /&gt;Did you hear me as I prayed&lt;br /&gt;Hear my plea&lt;br /&gt;Did you know my plight&lt;br /&gt;And know that it was me you saved?&lt;br /&gt;If I was the only one&lt;br /&gt;Would you still have lived&lt;br /&gt;Would you still have died&lt;br /&gt;If it was only me, would you still have come?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pray to you&lt;br /&gt;As I kneel tonight&lt;br /&gt;Confess my sins&lt;br /&gt;As out loud I cry&lt;br /&gt;You came and died&lt;br /&gt;My savior and king&lt;br /&gt;For someone as sinful&lt;br /&gt;And worthless as me&lt;br /&gt;You made me clean&lt;br /&gt;Made my hear pure&lt;br /&gt;And for evermore&lt;br /&gt;You know I’m yours&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you hung on the cross&lt;br /&gt;Did you think of me&lt;br /&gt;And know that someday&lt;br /&gt;I would be one of the lost?&lt;br /&gt;Did you hear me as I prayed&lt;br /&gt;Hear my plea&lt;br /&gt;Did you know my plight&lt;br /&gt;And know that it was me you saved?&lt;br /&gt;If I was the only one&lt;br /&gt;Would you still have lived&lt;br /&gt;Would you still have died&lt;br /&gt;If it was only me, would you still have come?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear your voice&lt;br /&gt;And I know it’s true&lt;br /&gt;You say “Child,&lt;br /&gt;I would have come, even if only for you.&lt;br /&gt;You are my daughter&lt;br /&gt;And you once were lost&lt;br /&gt;I would do anything for you&lt;br /&gt;No matter the cost&lt;br /&gt;I only want you&lt;br /&gt;Here in my arms&lt;br /&gt;Safe from the world&lt;br /&gt;And all of its harms&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a child&lt;br /&gt; I knew of you&lt;br /&gt;I knew your story&lt;br /&gt;I knew of your life&lt;br /&gt;As I died&lt;br /&gt;I thought of you&lt;br /&gt;I loved you even then&lt;br /&gt;And it was for you I gave my life&lt;br /&gt;If you were the only one&lt;br /&gt;I would have still lived&lt;br /&gt;I would have still died&lt;br /&gt;For you, I would have come&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-2249786090994891705?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/2249786090994891705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/01/if-it-was-only-me.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/2249786090994891705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/2249786090994891705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/01/if-it-was-only-me.html' title='If It Was Only Me'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-642606797330319569</id><published>2009-01-21T17:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T17:23:16.720-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Eidolon</title><content type='html'>You’re just a memory&lt;br /&gt;Or are you?&lt;br /&gt;Do memories cry&lt;br /&gt;Do they feel the pain&lt;br /&gt;That torments the nights?&lt;br /&gt;Can you feel a memory?&lt;br /&gt;Can you wipe away its tears?&lt;br /&gt; Do memories smile&lt;br /&gt;And reach out&lt;br /&gt;In a loving embrace?&lt;br /&gt;Do they whisper&lt;br /&gt;Soft words,&lt;br /&gt;Reassurances?&lt;br /&gt;Do they hold you when you cry,&lt;br /&gt;Hold your hand in the night?&lt;br /&gt;Can a memory make everything all right?&lt;br /&gt;Are you a memory?&lt;br /&gt;Or are you real?&lt;br /&gt;But I reach out to touch your hand&lt;br /&gt;And you fade away&lt;br /&gt;I guess you were&lt;br /&gt;Just a memory&lt;br /&gt;After all&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-642606797330319569?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/642606797330319569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/01/eidolon.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/642606797330319569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/642606797330319569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/01/eidolon.html' title='An Eidolon'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-6824057329085574355</id><published>2009-01-21T17:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T17:18:27.723-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To A Friend</title><content type='html'>Hold my hand in yours&lt;br /&gt;Close your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Don’t let go&lt;br /&gt;Can we fly?&lt;br /&gt;Standing on the edge&lt;br /&gt;We’re ready to leap&lt;br /&gt;A step of faith&lt;br /&gt;Straight into the deep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember when&lt;br /&gt;You were my only friend&lt;br /&gt;Just two little kids&lt;br /&gt;Always willing to take that risk&lt;br /&gt;Willing to push a little harder&lt;br /&gt;Going to walk just a little bit farther&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hold my hand in yours&lt;br /&gt;Close your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Don’t let go&lt;br /&gt;Can we fly?&lt;br /&gt;Standing on the edge&lt;br /&gt;We’re ready to leap&lt;br /&gt;A step of faith&lt;br /&gt;Straight into the deep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through the years&lt;br /&gt;We shared our fears&lt;br /&gt;Slain our dragons&lt;br /&gt;Hid our skeletons&lt;br /&gt;We’ve fought our battles and won our wars&lt;br /&gt;We’ve done all this and even more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hold my hand in yours&lt;br /&gt;Close your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Don’t let go&lt;br /&gt;Can we fly?&lt;br /&gt;Standing on the edge&lt;br /&gt;We’re ready to leap&lt;br /&gt;A step of faith&lt;br /&gt;Straight into the deep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you’ll be there&lt;br /&gt;Through weather rough and fair&lt;br /&gt;We’ll walk through it all&lt;br /&gt;Whether we stand or fall&lt;br /&gt;Even when we’re running scared&lt;br /&gt;I know you’ll be where&lt;br /&gt;I am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hold my hand in yours&lt;br /&gt;Close your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Don’t let go&lt;br /&gt;Can we fly?&lt;br /&gt;Standing on the edge&lt;br /&gt;We’re ready to leap&lt;br /&gt;A step of faith&lt;br /&gt;Straight into the deep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Run with me&lt;br /&gt;We’re breaking free&lt;br /&gt; Open your eyes and see&lt;br /&gt;Open your mouth and scream&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-6824057329085574355?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/6824057329085574355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/01/to-friend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/6824057329085574355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/6824057329085574355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/01/to-friend.html' title='To A Friend'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-10238031915016514</id><published>2009-01-19T17:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T17:37:57.153-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What does the election of Barack Obama mean to me and my family?</title><content type='html'>This is an essay I wrote for a scholarship contest. I'm posting for reviews on writing style, not really on content. I tried to stay true to my values, and not be a sell out; but it's hard when one is fighting for money to determine the next few years of their future...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      In 1832, a thirty year old black man was jailed for sitting in the “white car” of a train. On September 22, 1862, the slaves of America were freed. 1868 saw the passing of the fourteenth amendment, which gave blacks the right to vote. In 1870, Mississippi became the first state to elect an African American senator. In 1914, Kentucky passed a law allowing residential segregation. In 1915, Oklahoma segregated telephone booths. In 1920, Mississippi passed a law making it a criminal offense to advocate interracial marriages. In 1920, all states had segregated schools. In 1921, all voters were required to be able to read and write in English, which many blacks could not do. In 1953, segregation in the National Guard was banned, school segregation was banned, and residential segregation was banned. In 1961, transportation segregation was banned. By this point, nearly all of the country was desegregated, and where it wasn’t, efforts were underway to stop the segregation. For several years, it seemed as though African Americans had come as far as they could in the fight for equality. Most of America was desegregated, they had most of the same rights that whites had, and they even held positions of power. It seemed to many that the fight for equality was over, and African Americans could ask for no more. Some wanted more though. In 1901, Booker T. Washington became the first man to ever dine in the White House, and in 2009, the Obama family will become the first African American family elected to live in the White House.&lt;br /&gt;                On Tuesday January 20th, 2009, Barack Obama will be sworn in as America’s 44th president. The inauguration of any president is an important occasion, but this one is especially so. This one is special because Barack Obama is half African American. Many in America would like to say that this is meaningless, that America has been equal for both blacks and whites for many years now. Some would argue that the racial orientation of Barack Obama has no relevance in our country today. They would say that he is a good man, and the color of his skin is irrelevant. I know, however, that this is not true.&lt;br /&gt;                My family lived in southern Virginia for eleven months. First hand, we witnessed what racial discrimination can do to a community. We saw how neighbors fought against each other, classmates distrusted one another, and coworkers were blatantly racist. Store clerks ignored customers because of their color, and some of the store patrons were horribly rude to the employees. Not everyone was racially prejudiced, but many people were. It seemed that these people were unable to see past the mindsets of their ancestors, and could only judge a person based on his or her skin color.&lt;br /&gt;                For several generations, the line between second class and equal was very obvious to the African Americans in America. Prejudice didn’t stop there, however. Many African Americans are prejudiced against the Caucasians in America. There is a strong “victim’s” mentality in the descendents of slaves, and even in those whose ancestors were not slaves. Many behave as though they believe that the white citizens of our country owe them, whether the debt be monetary, in servitude, or even in attitude. Across the southern states, these thoughts and attitudes are rampant. This, I believe, is just as detrimental to America’s fight for equality as the racism against African Americans is.&lt;br /&gt;                In order for our country to achieve complete equality, racism must be wholly eradicated from our society. The people of America need to accept that, beneath the skin, every person is exactly the same as the person next to him. When a body has decayed, the bones left behind are the same, regardless of the color of skin the owner of said bones had. Regardless of a person’s heritage, every man is his neighbor’s equal. Not until all of America realizes this and accepts this will we be a truly united nation. A nation united cannot fall.&lt;br /&gt;                In the election of a man who is fifty per cent white and fifty per cent black, America has reached a pivotal point in her growth. The acceptance of someone not exactly like ourselves is showing a maturity far beyond what has been seen in recent years. President-elect Obama’s election is not simply the election of another president, it is proof that American’s can overcome racial boundaries and put aside their personal prejudices.&lt;br /&gt;                Regardless of one’s personal opinion of Barack Obama, his morals, and his policies, it is impossible to ignore the significance of his election. He has been chosen by the people of America to lead our country for the next four years. Being of mixed race, Obama is defining what America should strive for. His mother is Caucasian and his father was African American. Barack Obama is equal parts of both races, just as our country is.&lt;br /&gt;                For four years, the entire Obama family will live in the White House. For years, even decades afterward, they will be remembered as the first African American family to be the first family. Barack Obama will always be the first black president, and Michelle Obama will always be the first black first lady. They will go down in the history of America as pioneers, along with Martin Luther King Jr., Rosa Parks, and hundreds of others who have stepped out and moved forward.&lt;br /&gt;                What does the election of Barack Obama mean to me and my family? It means that our country is moving forward. It means that we have reached a milestone in the fight against racial prejudices. It means that America is headed in a new direction morally, into unchartered territory. It means that we are one step closer to a nation where who a person is is not dependent on the color of their skin, but rather their personality, morals, and personal beliefs. Obama ran his campaign on the idea of “change”. Our country is changing; there is no denying this fact. The election of Barack Obama means that America is one step closer to equality.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-10238031915016514?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/10238031915016514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-does-election-of-barack-obama-mean.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/10238031915016514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/10238031915016514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-does-election-of-barack-obama-mean.html' title='What does the election of Barack Obama mean to me and my family?'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-3649968478351797654</id><published>2009-01-16T09:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T13:28:14.059-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Host's Christmas Eve</title><content type='html'>I know it's no longer Christmas, but I wanted to put this out there. I had the pleasure of working on Christmas Eve. This is the result of a few hours of boredom followed by a rush of people wanting to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Twas the night before Christmas&lt;br /&gt;And all through the house&lt;br /&gt;Every creature was stirring&lt;br /&gt;Every creature was out&lt;br /&gt;They’d all come for dinner&lt;br /&gt;Every single one&lt;br /&gt;And they weren’t going to leave&lt;br /&gt;Until all dinner’s were done&lt;br /&gt;Some came in happy&lt;br /&gt;All filled with good cheer&lt;br /&gt;And some came quite snappy&lt;br /&gt;And some came with tears&lt;br /&gt;Some came with their families&lt;br /&gt;All lined up in tow&lt;br /&gt;Some came with no one&lt;br /&gt;And ate dinner alone&lt;br /&gt;They came with their friends&lt;br /&gt;With their spouses too&lt;br /&gt;They came with their presents&lt;br /&gt;Gifts red, green, and blue&lt;br /&gt;They came after school&lt;br /&gt;And they came after work&lt;br /&gt;They came after parties&lt;br /&gt;And they came after church&lt;br /&gt;They brought with them laughter&lt;br /&gt;Smiles all around&lt;br /&gt;The room filled with warmth&lt;br /&gt;As rain fell to the ground&lt;br /&gt;Although it was dreary&lt;br /&gt;And cold outside&lt;br /&gt;Those inside were happy&lt;br /&gt;And filled with life&lt;br /&gt;As the hour grew late&lt;br /&gt;The servers began to lag&lt;br /&gt;They’d been there all day&lt;br /&gt;And they’d had all they could have&lt;br /&gt;But the restaurant was full&lt;br /&gt;And the bar overflowing&lt;br /&gt;We’d sat all our booths&lt;br /&gt;And the people were still coming&lt;br /&gt;So we locked all the doors&lt;br /&gt;Though ten minutes early&lt;br /&gt;And we closed all the tables&lt;br /&gt;And rolled the mats in a hurry&lt;br /&gt;It was Christmas Eve&lt;br /&gt;And all wanted to go&lt;br /&gt;Some wanted to party&lt;br /&gt;And some wanted to be home&lt;br /&gt;We waved our farewells&lt;br /&gt;As we walked to our cars&lt;br /&gt;The lights were all out&lt;br /&gt;And morning was not too far&lt;br /&gt;Now I’ll put down my pen&lt;br /&gt;And I’ll say my goodbyes&lt;br /&gt;I’ll sit with my family&lt;br /&gt;And watch It’s a Wonderful Life&lt;br /&gt;May your day be happy&lt;br /&gt;And your memories light&lt;br /&gt;So Merry Christmas to all&lt;br /&gt;And to all a good night&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-3649968478351797654?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/3649968478351797654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/01/hosts-christmas-eve.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/3649968478351797654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/3649968478351797654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/01/hosts-christmas-eve.html' title='A Host&apos;s Christmas Eve'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-2158486798509956589</id><published>2009-01-14T15:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T17:07:41.525-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 11</title><content type='html'>Our economy isn't doing so well, in case you didn't know. Several businesses are filing bankruptcy, and people are losing their jobs. Gottschalks just filed Chapter 11. Gottschalks is now going the way of Mervyn's and many other businesses that just couldn't make it in today's market. Unfortunately, this has implications far worse than me losing a place to shop on Saturdays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my best friend's father has worked for Gottschalks as a photographer for several years. I fear now that her life, and the lives of her family members, will drastically change. Her father currently has 3 months garunteed, but after that, who knows?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is my personal (and maybe not so professional) oppinion that something drastic must be done. Unfortunately, President-elect Obama isn't offering any promising suggestions. In fact, his thoughts on the subject scare me half to death. I'm very afraid that I will be paying for the debts of our country long after I am unable to work. The next generation will likely be paying for our debts. And there is nothing any of us can do about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the sake of everyone I know, and future generations whom I don't know, I hope that my grim outlook on the future is wrong. I hope that all of Obama's plans work out for the best, and that he manages to turn our country around. I fear, however, that this will not be the case. Our country's situation will get worse before it gets better. The good news is that, eventually, it will get better. Yes, it is possible that this won't happen until after the Lord returns, but it will get better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-2158486798509956589?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/2158486798509956589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/01/chapter-11.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/2158486798509956589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/2158486798509956589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/01/chapter-11.html' title='Chapter 11'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-2102549758820416761</id><published>2009-01-14T14:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T17:27:30.195-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Short Story</title><content type='html'>"I just HAVE to ask...How tall are you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know how many times a day I here that? Especially at work. People come in, take a couple of what they think are discreet looks at me, and then make the above statement. It's not that I mind people asking how tall I am, really I don't. I mean, my height, or lack thereof, is part of who I am. And yes, I really am 4'9". No, I'm not kidding. What I really don't like is when people stand there and make a huge issue over the fact. Because that's all it is, a fact. And nothing they say will change the fact. Now, you may or may not believe me. You may or may not think that the entire situation is completely hilarious. You may or may not have a cousin whose hairdresser's sister's nephew's girlfriend is the exact same height as me. In any case, my height is what it is, and it will not change. So ask if you must, and make jokes if you so desire; but let's leave it at that, shall we? If you really must state the obvious, do so. Go on, say it. Yes, I'm SHORT. As long as we're stating the obvious: The earth is round, large groups of children are always loud, and I'm short.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-2102549758820416761?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/2102549758820416761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/01/short-story.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/2102549758820416761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/2102549758820416761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/01/short-story.html' title='The Short Story'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236416639619215271.post-798892186392717759</id><published>2009-01-13T16:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T16:24:50.790-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scholarships'/><title type='text'>I am more than a test score</title><content type='html'>The above title is true. I am not just a number on a piece of paper, regardless of how large or small that number may be. I am not just a ranking, one among many. I am a person, with goals, dreams, and ambitions. My goals are the reason I applied to colleges across the country. They are the reason I continued to push to get those applications finished, even though it was, and still is, tough. Those goals are the reasons I was accepted. And they are why I am now scouring the internet in search of scholarships, that I may pay for the extension and expansion of my education. They are the reasons I am filling out countless questionaires about myself, answering the same redundant questions over and over. My goals are beginning to annoy me. Below, the lucky person who clicks the image will be taken to a site where I have filled out a questionaire. This person will be alllowed to fill one out also. Then they can find scholarships. It's not easy, and it's not fun. But when we have no other options, we take what we can get. So go! Answer their questions and win their money! Personally, I am more than willing to take what I can get. Every little bit helps!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.zinch.com/Anonymous/StudentRegister.aspx?affid=561861"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.zinch.com/images/tools/150x150-1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/236416639619215271-798892186392717759?l=fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/feeds/798892186392717759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-am-more-than-test-score.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/798892186392717759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/236416639619215271/posts/default/798892186392717759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fairyfeet-thelongandshortofit.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-am-more-than-test-score.html' title='I am more than a test score'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02621733032305419128</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9sgezJlUlow/SXUtqQLQssI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U7JPccLAYBU/S220/DSCF0146+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
