<?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-3314275913307516476</id><updated>2011-07-07T19:42:45.716-07:00</updated><category term='military'/><category term='travis air force base'/><category term='air show'/><title type='text'>Things That Are Ephemeral</title><subtitle type='html'>&amp;quot;I somehow see what&amp;#39;s beautiful 
      in things that are ephemeral...&amp;quot;
                - She &amp;amp; Him</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>37</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-8488536906252509237</id><published>2009-04-01T12:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T12:24:10.297-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Zooey</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SdO-hjkEmOI/AAAAAAAAANI/ZR2qg7EP7Lo/s1600-h/zooey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319805068546185442" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SdO-hjkEmOI/AAAAAAAAANI/ZR2qg7EP7Lo/s320/zooey.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is our new puppy, Zooey.  She's a miniature dappled Dachshund and she's freaking adorable!  This picture was taken her first night at home, and she is so tiny!  That little stuffed sheep was bigger than her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-8488536906252509237?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/8488536906252509237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=8488536906252509237' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/8488536906252509237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/8488536906252509237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2009/04/zooey.html' title='Zooey'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SdO-hjkEmOI/AAAAAAAAANI/ZR2qg7EP7Lo/s72-c/zooey.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-9108630219298195009</id><published>2009-03-08T20:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T20:03:03.870-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Divorce Agreement</title><content type='html'>This was forwarded to me, and I had to post this....it's fantastic!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear American liberals, leftists, social progressives, socialists, Marxists and Obama supporters, et al:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have stuck together since the late 1950's, but the whole of this latest election process has made me realize that I want a divorce. I know we tolerated each other for many years for the sake of future generations, but sadly, this relationship has run its course. Our two ideological sides of America cannot and will not ever agree on what is right so let's just end it on friendly terms. We can smile and chalk it up to irreconcilable differences and go our own way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a model separation agreement: Our two groups can equitably divide up the country by landmass each taking a portion. That will be the difficult part, but I am sure our two sides can come to a friendly agreement. After that, it should be relatively easy! Our respective representatives can effortlessly divide other assets since both sides have such distinct and disparate tastes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We don't like redistributive taxes so you can keep them. You are welcome to the liberal judges and the ACLU. Since you hate guns and war, we'll take our firearms, the cops, the NRA and the military. You can keep Oprah, Michael Moore and Rosie O'Donnell (You are, however, responsible for finding a bio-diesel vehicle big enough to move all three of them).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll keep the capitalism, greedy corporations, pharmaceutical companies, Wal-Mart and Wall Street. You can have your beloved homeless, homeboys, hippies and illegal aliens. We'll keep the hot Alaskan hockey moms, greedy CEO's and rednecks. We'll keep the Bibles and give you NBC and Hollywood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can make nice with Iran and Palestine and we'll retain the right to invade and hammer places that threaten us. You can have the peaceniks and war protesters. When our allies or our way of life are under assault, we'll help provide them security.We'll keep our Judeo-Christian values.. .You are welcome to Islam, Scientology, Humanism and Shirley McClain. You can also have the U.N.. but we will no longer be paying the bill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll keep the SUVs, pickup trucks and oversized luxury cars. You can take every Subaru station wagon you can find. You can give everyone healthcare if you can find any practicing doctors. We'll continue to believe healthcare is a luxury and not a right. We'll keep The Battle Hymn of the Republic and the National Anthem. I'm sure you'll be happy to substitute Imagine, I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing, Kum Ba Ya or We Are the World. We'll practice trickle down economics and you can give trickle up poverty your best shot. Since it often so offends you, we'll keep our history, our name and our flag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you agree to this? If so, please pass it along to other like minded liberal and conservative patriots and if you do not agree, just hit delete. In the spirit of friendly parting, I'll bet you ANWAR which one of us will need whose help in 15 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;John J. Wall&lt;br /&gt;Law Student and an American&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Also, please take Barbara Streisand &amp;amp; Jane Fonda with you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-9108630219298195009?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/9108630219298195009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=9108630219298195009' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/9108630219298195009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/9108630219298195009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2009/03/divorce-agreement.html' title='Divorce Agreement'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-2692224031089357618</id><published>2009-01-31T12:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T13:30:51.298-08:00</updated><title type='text'>January Books Read</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SYS2KPHcexI/AAAAAAAAAL4/D9Q0G_XbIRg/s1600-h/nakedindeath.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297559348667251474" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 174px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 280px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SYS2KPHcexI/AAAAAAAAAL4/D9Q0G_XbIRg/s320/nakedindeath.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (#1) &lt;strong&gt;Naked in Death &lt;/strong&gt;by J.D. Robb&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Detective? Check. Murder? Check. Sexy love interest? Check. This series was something I never would have picked up, had I not received it as a gift. Imagine my surprise when I finished it in one sitting! It has the same elements of all the favorite mystery reads and crime-solving TV shows, but takes place twenty years in the future, adding an entirely new element. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Final Say: An awesome surprise. Luckily for me, an entire shelf and a half of "In Death" books follow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297560304888281826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SYS3B5UTeuI/AAAAAAAAAMA/T0OKWuCGKgY/s320/a_long_way_gone.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(#2) &lt;strong&gt;Long Way Gone &lt;/strong&gt;by Ishmael Beah&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't write this off because it's about Africa. This is simply a story about a young music-loving boy caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. His painfully simple and honest stories about his part in one of the world's worst crimes against humanity is powerful, but it's his recovery and clear-headedness about the situation that is inspiring. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Final Say: It's no wonder that this book spent months on the bestseller lists. This is a book every household should own and read.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SYS4JmST_mI/AAAAAAAAAMI/oNm5mkw9r2M/s1600-h/livingdeadindallas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297561536730234466" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 198px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SYS4JmST_mI/AAAAAAAAAMI/oNm5mkw9r2M/s320/livingdeadindallas.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (#3) &lt;strong&gt;Living Dead in Dallas &lt;/strong&gt;by Charlaine Harris&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The second book in the Sookie Stackhouse series. The series has found unbelievable success since the premiere of the TV show "True Blood," and as all those &lt;em&gt;Twilight&lt;/em&gt;ers who aren't quite ready to come off the supernatural kick scramble for a new read. &lt;strong&gt;Living Dead in Dallas &lt;/strong&gt;was a satisfying sequel to the amazing original. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Final Say: Many of the customers to whom I hand-sold "Dead Until Dark" (the first in the series) have come back for the series boxed set. What can I say that beats that? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SYS5KkuQU5I/AAAAAAAAAMQ/Yke_SQTJNUI/s1600-h/cocktailsforthree.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297562653002060690" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 185px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 278px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SYS5KkuQU5I/AAAAAAAAAMQ/Yke_SQTJNUI/s320/cocktailsforthree.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(#4) &lt;strong&gt;Cocktails for Three &lt;/strong&gt;by Madeleina Wickham. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Finally, a girly book. Sophie Kinsella is one of my favorite authors, and the fact that she also writes as Madeleine Wickham is like double the fun. &lt;strong&gt;Cocktails for Three &lt;/strong&gt;is my second Madeleine Wickham book, and nearly as delightful as Kinsella's others. The story is about three co-workers who meet once a month in a London pub to drink cocktails and gossip. In a month's time, secrets are revealed about each woman that threatens to tear apart their bond and friendship. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Final Say: A good, lighthearted and entertaining read. But don't let this be your first Wickham/Kinsella read. "Can You Keep a Secret?" (by Kinsella), and "The Gatecrasher" (published by Wickham when she was 21) are far superior.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SYS6J7EIfhI/AAAAAAAAAMY/0bfs20SlPik/s1600-h/barebones.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297563741331160594" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 172px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 280px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SYS6J7EIfhI/AAAAAAAAAMY/0bfs20SlPik/s320/barebones.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(#5) &lt;strong&gt;Bare Bones &lt;/strong&gt;by Kathy Reichs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A series I always come back to, Reichs books are dramatic, accurate, and highly entertaining. In this installment, Dr. Temperance Brennan comes across mysterious hand bones while at a picnic at the home of her daughter's new boyfriend. If you are already unsure of your daughter's new bedmate, I can't imagine finding bones on his property will put your mind at ease. . .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Final Say: As always, a sure-thing from Reichs. This series gets better and better. If you are new to the series, pick up "Monday Mourning" or "Cross Bones," which are my favorites.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SYS7oic0CWI/AAAAAAAAAMg/qsr5PYRpaIY/s1600-h/nowaytotreatafirstlady.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297565366811363682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 301px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SYS7oic0CWI/AAAAAAAAAMg/qsr5PYRpaIY/s320/nowaytotreatafirstlady.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (#6) &lt;strong&gt;No Way to Treat a First Lady&lt;/strong&gt; by Christopher Buckley.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of this best, though not as good as "Boomsday." Things go awry when the president is found dead in his bed of an apparent whack on the head. The main suspect is, of course, his wife: the tolerated first lady. Buckley's political satires are hilarious, and this one's thinly-veiled spoof of the death of a Clinton-like president is no exception.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Final Say: I've reviewed his books before, and continue to hand-sell these at Barnes and Noble. Pick up "Boomsday" first, though this would be my second pick.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SYS842g3lcI/AAAAAAAAAMo/q1KoF4aM85c/s1600-h/facingthelion.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297566746586617282" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 185px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 277px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SYS842g3lcI/AAAAAAAAAMo/q1KoF4aM85c/s320/facingthelion.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(#7) &lt;strong&gt;Facing the Lion: Growing up Maasai on the African Savanna &lt;/strong&gt;by Joseph Lemasolai Lekuton&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is a book I stumbled across while shelving one day. It's a very simple, $7 children's book, but contains quite a punch. Everyone knows the Maasai: if not by name, by their trademark red clothing and ear gauges. This simple memoir was written by the youngest son of a respected Maasai family. Thanks to Kenyan law that required every family to send at least one of their children to school, Joseph recieved an education. The book discusses his desire to learn and grow as a person, while keeping his Maasai roots and traditions. He is now a teacher at an elite Washington D.C. school, and takes students and parents to Kenya once a year. The book includes quite a few lighthearted stories of his childhood and the meshing of western and tradition Maasai cultures. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Final Say: An easy and worth-while read. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SYS-YcjBRVI/AAAAAAAAAMw/VN8xRkW0rFo/s1600-h/thereader.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297568388883760466" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 217px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SYS-YcjBRVI/AAAAAAAAAMw/VN8xRkW0rFo/s320/thereader.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(#8) &lt;strong&gt;The Reader &lt;/strong&gt;by Bernhard Schlink&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not going to say much about this book, because it (along with the movie of the same name) deserves a post of its own. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Final Say: Whenever I talk about my favorite books, "Dr. Zhivago" and "Atonement", I always mention the fact that the endings are absolutely haunting. They are unbelievably powerful, and can't help but to stay with me. This book (and again, the film) are the same way. I may have put the book down and left the movie theater, but I sure haven't stopped thinking about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SYS_K0d2RbI/AAAAAAAAAM4/whiz_IViPXs/s1600-h/goosegirl.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297569254297978290" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 175px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SYS_K0d2RbI/AAAAAAAAAM4/whiz_IViPXs/s320/goosegirl.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(#9) &lt;strong&gt;The Goose Girl &lt;/strong&gt;by Shannon Hale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When a book is recommended to me multiple times, I figure I have to read it. It didn't occur to me until half way through reading this book that I got ice water for the author when she did a signing at my Walnut Creek store a few years ago. Then I felt bummed that I didn't read the book then. But better late than never, I guess, because this was a highly addictive read reminiscent of "Ella Enchanted," one of my childhood favorites. I even kept reading through a certain beheading....:( &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Final Say: Well, I loved it enough to rush out and buy every other book she's written. And I shared it in our morning meeting. Twice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SYTAQyIs7wI/AAAAAAAAANA/Ol6ZbzDAAwI/s1600-h/areyoutherevodka.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297570456263257858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SYTAQyIs7wI/AAAAAAAAANA/Ol6ZbzDAAwI/s320/areyoutherevodka.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(#10) &lt;strong&gt;Are You There, Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea &lt;/strong&gt;by Chelsea Handler&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh my gosh.  Chelsea Handler (author of one of my other recommends: "My Horizontal Life: A Collection of One Night Stands") is the only author who can make me literally laugh out loud.  This is the perfect book for someone with a busy life, which is why I strategically kept it for the first week of school (it brightened my life up a little bit, that's for sure.)  Her newest book is another collection of tales from her hilariously entertaining life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Final Say: If this isn't the type of book you can bring yourself to buy, at least grab it off the shelf at BN, find yourself a chair, and turn to page 173 (Chapter 9 titled "Re-Gift") and read.  And don't worry, it's totally clean. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SYS3B5UTeuI/AAAAAAAAAMA/T0OKWuCGKgY/s1600-h/a_long_way_gone.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/3314275913307516476-2692224031089357618?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/2692224031089357618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=2692224031089357618' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/2692224031089357618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/2692224031089357618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2009/01/january-books-read.html' title='January Books Read'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SYS2KPHcexI/AAAAAAAAAL4/D9Q0G_XbIRg/s72-c/nakedindeath.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-3576986282909352734</id><published>2009-01-14T20:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T20:14:33.353-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to School Blues</title><content type='html'>I post this on the eve of my first day back to school.  Tomorrow at 4 p.m. I will be sitting in room 101 of the art building starting the art history class I frantically registered for as recently as Monday.  I was filling out the second part of Berkeley's transfer application when one of the questions made me realize I had 56 transferable units - four less than the required 60 transferable units. &lt;br /&gt;This prompted some language I cannot repeat here...and some frantic class searching.  My ideal situation would be a 5-unit language class, but the only language class available was Chinese (uh...no) at a military base in Vallejo (uh...no). &lt;br /&gt;Scratch that. &lt;br /&gt;I spent three hours searching for classes I wanted to take (French 4...cultural anthropology...), classes I wouldn't mind taking (piano...United States government...), and classes I only looked at because I was desperate (History of Women in the United States....Philosophy from Plato to Rand...).  Everything was full or waitlisted.  Everything.  Bummer.&lt;br /&gt;This was supposed to be an easy last semester: my two required classes (Chemistry and Math), and one fun one (Russian 3) two days a week.  I have now added two more classes and two more days a week to that lineup (Art History and...ah crap, what's the other one?....Physical Geography....).  The bad part is that five classes makes everything harder.  The good part is that it puts me at 61 transferable units which means I won't get a surprising letter from Berkeley rejecting me for not following the transfer directions:) Now I just hope that Berkeley looks at these two totally random classes as an indication of my love of learning since they have absolutely nothing to do with either of my majors.  Bleh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-3576986282909352734?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/3576986282909352734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=3576986282909352734' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/3576986282909352734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/3576986282909352734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2009/01/back-to-school-blues.html' title='Back to School Blues'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-6056386135203611635</id><published>2009-01-06T17:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T18:52:29.254-08:00</updated><title type='text'>December Books Read</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SWQLyQlpTwI/AAAAAAAAAKo/SKBtSSQbKZI/s1600-h/grace.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288364820514033410" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 185px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 262px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SWQLyQlpTwI/AAAAAAAAAKo/SKBtSSQbKZI/s320/grace.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Grace&lt;/strong&gt; by Richard Paul Evans&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Religious fiction is not my genre. In this case, however, a friend lent it to me and upon opening it up and seeing that it is based loosely on Hans Christian Anderson's "The Little Match Girl" (first book I ever cried in by the way), I decided to give it a go. Also, it was too close to Christmas for me to spend money on myself and I was sad and bookless.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The story is about a boy growing up in Salt Lake City in the 1960s. New in town and friendless except for the company of his younger brother, he is shocked to find a girl climb out of the dumpster behind the diner he works at. Grace tells him that she has run away from her abusive step-father, and sympathy and love for the girl spurs the boy to hide her in his backyard clubhouse. The story is well-written, if not a wee bit sappy. I finished it in about two days, and my sister, upon finding it in my car, finished it in about three hours (all while sitting in my parked car). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Final Say: Recommended if this is your style or genre, but that may be because part of every purchase of this book goes to a fund to help abused children. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Curious Case of Benjamin Button &lt;/strong&gt;by F. Scott Fitzgerald&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SWQYCOPlfLI/AAAAAAAAALY/bMoK3XDB88k/s1600-h/benbutton.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288378288902077618" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 250px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 250px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SWQYCOPlfLI/AAAAAAAAALY/bMoK3XDB88k/s320/benbutton.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In high anticipation of this movie, I picked up &lt;em&gt;The Curious Case of Benjamin Button&lt;/em&gt; to help tide me over. Originally a short story published in a men's magazine, &lt;em&gt;Benjamin Button&lt;/em&gt; is a quick but delightful read. My favorite part of the book was simply the language: so reminiscent of an earlier decade that it adds an element of charm to the story that I don't even remember from&lt;em&gt; Gatsby&lt;/em&gt; (one of my favorites).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Final Say: A worthy, albeit short read.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As a side note, this movie is absolutely fantastic. I knew about two pages into the book that the film would be drastically different, and in fact the only similarities are his name and the fact that his father owns a button factory. I bawled through the entire movie, but it has such valuable lessons on life that I will be rushing back to experience it again (Marley and Me on the other hand....:/). Brad Pitt, not one of my favorites, does an excellent job as does Cate Blanchett, though that is only to be expected. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Queen's Fool&lt;/strong&gt; by Phillipa Gregory&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SWQPatYPuBI/AAAAAAAAAK4/G4T6Cg55nfY/s1600-h/queensfool.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288368813972109330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 92px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 140px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SWQPatYPuBI/AAAAAAAAAK4/G4T6Cg55nfY/s320/queensfool.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Picking up a book by Phillipa Gregory is like going on a journey; her stories are so incredibly detailed, amazing, and enthralling, it's easy to forget that they are all based on real people, places, and events. My latest Gregory read, &lt;em&gt;The Queen's Fool&lt;/em&gt;, tells the story of Hanna, a young Jewish girl who escapes the Inquisition in Spain and finds ephemeral peace in England. After a chance encounter with a certain Robert Dudley, Hanna finds herself at the Court of Queen Mary as the Holy Fool (Hanna is plagued by both visions of the future and false friends who wish to profit from her "gift"). Hanna continues to live in fear of the Inquisition and religious persecution as she lives on the daily front lines of England's religious revolution.  I can always expect her books to be amazing, and &lt;em&gt;The Queen's Fool&lt;/em&gt; is no exception.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Final Say: &lt;em&gt;The Other Boleyn Girl &lt;/em&gt;receives all the hype, but check out &lt;em&gt;The Queen's Fool&lt;/em&gt; and my other Gregory favorite, &lt;em&gt;The Constant Princess&lt;/em&gt; (Katherine of Aragon's story).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SWQRcO1tliI/AAAAAAAAALA/YmXGCPRpGx0/s1600-h/prodigalsummer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288371039157196322" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 203px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SWQRcO1tliI/AAAAAAAAALA/YmXGCPRpGx0/s320/prodigalsummer.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Prodigal Summer &lt;/strong&gt;by Barbara Kingsolver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;On page three, I almost set it down. By page twenty I was thinking this was going to take me the rest of the month to finish. And by page sixty I was thinking that this is the best book I've read in a long time. &lt;em&gt;Prodigal Summer&lt;/em&gt; tells three not-so-seperate stories of living in a farming valley in Appalachia. I found myself slowing down to really savor each and every sentence because oh so often I would find myself thinking how incredibly beautiful such an emotion or description was said. My diary, in which I write frequently record quotes from all kinds of sources, has become chock-full of &lt;em&gt;Prodigal Summer&lt;/em&gt; quotes only because I can only hope to notice and appreciate nature's understated miracles in the way Kingsolver obviously does. I find myself still scratching my head in both wonderment and jealousy at how brilliantly perceptive one person can be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Final Say: Definitely a book to pick up in one's lifetime, but read it when you have the time to fully enjoy and appreciate it. Would make a great vacation read if all you're doing is lazing around the beach. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dead Until Dark &lt;/strong&gt;by Charlaine Harris&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SWQVNekK1bI/AAAAAAAAALI/YG2Jz1lQoa0/s1600-h/deaduntildark.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288375183727056306" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 198px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SWQVNekK1bI/AAAAAAAAALI/YG2Jz1lQoa0/s320/deaduntildark.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Unusually unpopular mortal falls in love with decades-old vampire in a small town. Don't forget the seperate love-interest who happens to be a shape-shifter and you've got yourself a brow-raising (wow, hyphenate much?) trend. My first thought was "I don't do vampire books," but after enjoying &lt;em&gt;Twilight&lt;/em&gt; so much, and ever intrigued by the hundreds of requests I've gotten for this book, I decided to give it a try. Basically, if you liked &lt;em&gt;Twilight, &lt;/em&gt;you will like this series of seven books recently adapted into a new HBO show. As for the blatant similarities between &lt;em&gt;Dead Until Dark &lt;/em&gt;(published in 2001) and &lt;em&gt;Twilight &lt;/em&gt;(published in 2005), I will let you come to your own conclusions. I happened to fall in love with this addictive and charming book. I laughed out loud on multiple occasions and this book (while remaining appropriate) includes the sex that we all kept waiting for in &lt;em&gt;Twilight &lt;/em&gt;(just admit it ;))&lt;em&gt;. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Final Say&lt;em&gt;: &lt;/em&gt;I hear a lot of people say that they don't like vampire books, and I always nod my head in concurrence. However, like &lt;em&gt;Twilight&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;Dead Until Dark &lt;/em&gt;contains that something extra that goes way beyond the cheap thrill of so many vampire tales. Give it a try. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/3314275913307516476-6056386135203611635?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/6056386135203611635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=6056386135203611635' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/6056386135203611635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/6056386135203611635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2009/01/december-books-read.html' title='December Books Read'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SWQLyQlpTwI/AAAAAAAAAKo/SKBtSSQbKZI/s72-c/grace.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-7837035720699381752</id><published>2009-01-02T18:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T18:18:45.985-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Wow, 2008 has already come and gone. I'm not a big New Year's fan - I'm the type that drags my heels and balks at the idea of yet another year gone by (you should see me on birthdays!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year was the same - in fact, I just downed some sleep aids sometime around six and drifted to sleep, sleeping through the ball dropping and inevitable drunk driving (though earlier in the day I did happen to see the after effects of a car that had managed to wrap itself around a tree).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as much as I complain about the end of a year, 2008 did have some highlights... &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(sorry about the lack of pictures, I switched computers and don't have many on this current one :(...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I finished one more year of school and applied to universities in November. The best part is that all the schools I applied to were - up until recently - only dream schools.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SV7H2SMyM5I/AAAAAAAAAKg/RYAYjLgly08/s1600-h/sheandhim.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286882747991864210" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SV7H2SMyM5I/AAAAAAAAAKg/RYAYjLgly08/s320/sheandhim.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I went to some *awesome* concerts this year:   The Spice Girls Reunion tour in Las Vegas (one of my favorite places, I went back for my 21st birthday!); Panic at the Disco (a great concert at San Jose State which also featured The Cab, Plain White T's and Dashboard Confessional); and *two* She and Him concerts.  They are my favorite band, and I saw one of their shows at Bimbos in San Francisco, and a second show at the House of Blues in L.A. Hopefully, I'll see plenty more because they're awesome live!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I did some great travelling this year, including a month-long backpacking trip.  I stayed in hostels, met a bunch of awesome people (both new friends and friends I've known for almost seven years now who I see every time I am in London), and experienced all kinds of incredible things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I voted for John McCain and Sarah Palin!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;* I finished the first draft of my book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2009 is already shaping up to be eventful.  In April I will find out if the second half of 2009 will be spent in Berkeley or South Africa.  My horse and I will finally make it to another show by March, and hopefully a finished draft of my book by the end of the year.  Here's to a happy and prosperous 2009!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Year everyone!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-7837035720699381752?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/7837035720699381752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=7837035720699381752' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/7837035720699381752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/7837035720699381752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2009/01/wow-2008-has-already-come-and-gone.html' title=''/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SV7H2SMyM5I/AAAAAAAAAKg/RYAYjLgly08/s72-c/sheandhim.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-7483702096394934687</id><published>2008-12-22T16:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T16:26:06.829-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Very Funny Joke to Keep You Entertained While I Slack Off</title><content type='html'>A group of zoo-goers are surrounding the lion cage when the lion reaches out and grabs a little girl in its teeth.  Suddenly, a man dodges through the crowd, punches the lion square in the nose and gets the little girl to safety.  Standing nearby is a reporter who loudly declares that that act of heroism was the bravest thing he has ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;"I'm a journalist for the New York Times," he says to the hero, "and tomorrow I am going to put you on the front page of the newspaper!  Can I have your name, occupation, and political affiliation please?"&lt;br /&gt;The Hero tells the reporter "My name is John Smith, I'm a proud United States Marine and a Republican."&lt;br /&gt;The next day, the Hero grabs a copy of the New York Times to see if the guy followed through.  There he was on the front page with the headline: "Man Suckerpunches African Immigrant and Steals His Lunch."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahahha....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-7483702096394934687?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/7483702096394934687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=7483702096394934687' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/7483702096394934687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/7483702096394934687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/12/very-funny-joke-to-keep-you-entertained.html' title='Very Funny Joke to Keep You Entertained While I Slack Off'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-6386827694676078498</id><published>2008-12-07T17:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T18:20:58.680-08:00</updated><title type='text'>November Books Read</title><content type='html'>It's so hard to keep up with all the books I have read over the last month. Since I wait all month to post this blog (not to mention being a Barnes and Noble bookseller), I'm thinking of starting a seperate blog that is all books all the time. Any thoughts, please let me know... &lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Supreme Courtship&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;by Christopher Buckley&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/STx51nSUZ4I/AAAAAAAAAJo/RLCmorTiajg/s1600-h/supremecourtship.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277226825357223810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 80px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 123px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/STx51nSUZ4I/AAAAAAAAAJo/RLCmorTiajg/s320/supremecourtship.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;You've seen other Christopher Buckley titles mentioned on this blog - he's one of my favorite authors - and this is the newest book from the hilarious political satirist. A very unpopular president, tired of having every eligible judge he nominates to the Supreme Court be ripped to shreds by the nomination committee, nominates Judge Pepper Cartwright, America's favorite television judge, to the Supreme Court of the United States. [Insert standard "hilarity ensues" comment.] &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Final Say: &lt;/strong&gt;A great book for anyone who just wants to see the lighter side of politics for awhile (especially after this last election). And after you enjoy this one, go pick up "Boomsday" (my favorite), or "Thankyou for Smoking."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The Nightingale&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;by Morgana Gallaway&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sorry, there isn't a picture yet for this book, as it is not yet released. One of my favorite things about working at a bookstore is the free advanced reader's copies. Usually, they aren't books expected to do well, and while I usually enjoy the free books I get, they usually aren't ones I will go out of my way to recommend to customers. "The Nightingale" is, however, an exception. In her first novel, Gallaway accomplishes the impossible: covering a controversial topic in a controversial setting while still remaining 'chick-lit.' The main character, Leila, is Iraqi and a translator at the American base, but she could easily be any girl in any culture and country. The story is about Leila falling in love with an American soldier, despite the fact that her father is one of the most wanted terrorists in the city of Mosul. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Final Say: &lt;/strong&gt;I usually hesitate to pick up books that take place in the current day Middle East; I find they tend to try too hard to make some amazing point that ends up falling flat, but I think this one worked well. Recommended if it's your type of genre.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Flying Changes&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;by Sara Gruen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/STyBMjQIEoI/AAAAAAAAAJw/I5lCr0r-R5M/s1600-h/flyingchanges.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277234915992670850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 132px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/STyBMjQIEoI/AAAAAAAAAJw/I5lCr0r-R5M/s320/flyingchanges.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last month, I raved about this book's predecessor, "Riding Lessons," this month I equally enjoyed the sequel, "Flying Changes." Sara Gruen, who also wrote "Water for Elephants," is an amazingly talented author. I can't usually relate so much to a middle-aged heroine, and yet Gruen's Annemarie is so entertaining, I can't help but find a way to relate to her insecurities with her boyfriend, the mother-daughter relationships (with both Annemarie and her purely Austrian mother, and Annemarie and her own daughter, Eva), and her love for her horse (who reminds me of my Joey). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Final Say: &lt;/strong&gt;Next month when I post my top ten favorite books of the year, Gruen's books will definitely be on there. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;People of the Book&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;by Geraldine Brooks&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/STyChP_VyjI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/-fT7r7CwhJY/s1600-h/peopleofthebook.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277236371110873650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 312px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/STyChP_VyjI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/-fT7r7CwhJY/s320/peopleofthebook.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This was my first Geradline Brooks novel, though definitely not my last.  She won the Pulitzer Prize for her other novel, "March" which tells the story of Little Women from the Father's perspective. It's hard to encapsulate a book as complex as "People of the Book," but here's my attempt.  The story starts in 1996, when Hanna, a conservator of books, is assigned to conserve what is known as the Serajevo Haggadah (a real book cherished for it's unusually vibrant images).  The conserving of the book goes as planned, except that Hanna finds three mysterious things embedded in the book: the wing of an insect, a small red stain, and a grain of what appears to be salt.  The story then weaves between the "people of the book" (those who have played a part in the history, and often the survival of the book), and present day where Hanna attempts to solve the mysteries of the book and the religous strifes of today's world.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Final Say: &lt;/strong&gt;An absolutely amazing novel.  This is what I have been recommending to all my customers lately, and I don't think anyone will be disappointed.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&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/3314275913307516476-6386827694676078498?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/6386827694676078498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=6386827694676078498' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/6386827694676078498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/6386827694676078498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/12/november-books-read.html' title='November Books Read'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/STx51nSUZ4I/AAAAAAAAAJo/RLCmorTiajg/s72-c/supremecourtship.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-3197834016093224892</id><published>2008-11-30T12:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T12:40:01.006-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Finished!</title><content type='html'>Well, after three long years of waiting, I have finally turned in my UC Berkeley and UCLA applications.  What a different feeling it is to turn in the applications knowing I actually have a chance!Though I think this is even worse...at least in high school when I applied, I knew I didn't have a snowball's chance in Hell at getting in, so there wasn't much stress or disappointment waiting for the rejection letter. This wait is going to drive me insane!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So from now until April, my fate is in the hands of the University of California admissions office.  Fingers crossed, and wish on a hay bale for me, please.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-3197834016093224892?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/3197834016093224892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=3197834016093224892' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/3197834016093224892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/3197834016093224892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/11/finished.html' title='Finished!'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-5517497375042492988</id><published>2008-11-24T18:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T18:24:26.448-08:00</updated><title type='text'>5 Things I Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SStf8SyvKbI/AAAAAAAAAJg/cme0IXYDsDI/s1600-h/bloggy__luv!.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272413278208731570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 160px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SStf8SyvKbI/AAAAAAAAAJg/cme0IXYDsDI/s320/bloggy__luv!.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenny very kindly passed along this thingie (I don't know how to post links, so please check out her blog from the link to the side....even though she is really my only reader:)) with directions to post five things I love.  I figured that was easy....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;1. I &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;love &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Joey for somehow always knowing when I need to be cheered up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;2. I &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;love &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;my family&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;3. I &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;love &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;the feeling of having all my homework done (I'm hoping to have this feeling soon...only three more essays to write!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;4. I &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;love &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;winter, and all the blankets and flannel sheets that go with it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;5. I &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;love &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;the new Christmas cookies I just bought...they are great for dunking in milk yum:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The hard part is finding five people to send this to.  I think most of my readers have already been tagged in this fun game, so I'm going to skip it for now.  Thanks again Jen!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-5517497375042492988?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/5517497375042492988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=5517497375042492988' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/5517497375042492988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/5517497375042492988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/11/5-things-i-love.html' title='5 Things I Love'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SStf8SyvKbI/AAAAAAAAAJg/cme0IXYDsDI/s72-c/bloggy__luv!.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-7257117834273047437</id><published>2008-11-08T18:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T19:22:55.687-08:00</updated><title type='text'>She and Him: Los Angeles</title><content type='html'>Being the obsessive fan that I am, one She and Him concert wasn't enough, so Amy and I went down to Southern California for yet another She and Him concert - this time at The House of Blues in Anaheim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, we were starving by the time we got there, and decided just to eat at the HOB. This ended up totally working out, because we were one of three groups who got to go in early for eating there. We ran to the front, and ended up being front row, center. The only bad part about getting there so early is that we were standing there over an hour waiting for it to start. I really was not happy about having to sit through Lavendar Diamond again (scroll down to see the post "She and Him: San Francisco"), but by the time they came on, Amy and I were just glad that something was happening. Not surprisingly, Amy thought she was as crazy as I had said she would be, and during the screaming song, Amy laughed so hard, Hippie-girl heard her and looked down at her. 'Twas hilarious though. And *everyone* was laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that She and Him was even *better* than in San Francisco. And even though I think Bimbos is a bigger venue, there was a lot more energy in L.A. The thing that I like about She and Him is that Zooey and M. Ward play all of the instruments themselves (with the exception of the drums. They were played by another drummer at the concert), and so M. Ward would be playing the guitar, then go over to the piano and play the piano. My favorite part of both concerts was when Zooey played my favorite song, "Sentimental Heart." The lights on the stage went down, and it was just a spotlight as she played the song on the piano and sang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They really put on a good show...I won't bore you with it any longer, even though I could probably go on and on. I'll just post pictures instead lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zooey does almost all of the vocals on the CD, and so I didn't really appreciate M. Ward until seeing him in concert. I have never been so amazed by someone playing the guitar - he is unbelievably amazing and talented.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SRZV1Ehqa6I/AAAAAAAAAJY/mnFrOXqqgyI/s1600-h/sheandhim7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266491184492735394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SRZV1Ehqa6I/AAAAAAAAAJY/mnFrOXqqgyI/s320/sheandhim7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zooey singing my favorite song, "Sentimental Heart"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SRZV0VbthKI/AAAAAAAAAJA/2xAqOg8JqGU/s1600-h/sheandhim2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266491171851306146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SRZV0VbthKI/AAAAAAAAAJA/2xAqOg8JqGU/s320/sheandhim2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SRZV08-u8UI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/zl86nNeNmaE/s1600-h/sheandhim6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266491182467182914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SRZV08-u8UI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/zl86nNeNmaE/s320/sheandhim6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were front row, center, and so we had an awesome view of Zooey standing right in front of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SRZV0g6ePlI/AAAAAAAAAJI/abWOJTH7cHk/s1600-h/sheandhim5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266491174933118546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SRZV0g6ePlI/AAAAAAAAAJI/abWOJTH7cHk/s320/sheandhim5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;M. Ward on the piano.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SRZVa61taNI/AAAAAAAAAI4/NYUdIFIWCNA/s1600-h/sheandhim4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266490735215864018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SRZVa61taNI/AAAAAAAAAI4/NYUdIFIWCNA/s320/sheandhim4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She &amp;amp; Him songs are made up of only a few instruments. Zooey's instrument of choice is the tamborine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SRZVZ-3dkpI/AAAAAAAAAIw/GTZhOzfWJCk/s1600-h/sheandhim3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266490719117087378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SRZVZ-3dkpI/AAAAAAAAAIw/GTZhOzfWJCk/s320/sheandhim3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She and Him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SRZVZt5OJqI/AAAAAAAAAIg/4OaTGXOs_CY/s1600-h/sheandhim.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266490714561062562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SRZVZt5OJqI/AAAAAAAAAIg/4OaTGXOs_CY/s320/sheandhim.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/3314275913307516476-7257117834273047437?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/7257117834273047437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=7257117834273047437' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/7257117834273047437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/7257117834273047437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/11/she-and-him-los-angeles.html' title='She and Him: Los Angeles'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SRZV1Ehqa6I/AAAAAAAAAJY/mnFrOXqqgyI/s72-c/sheandhim7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-7206312905634287191</id><published>2008-11-04T19:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T19:50:38.962-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Scary</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SREXV0JBBpI/AAAAAAAAAII/HwyCv-S55lA/s1600-h/bunneh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265015102913971858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SREXV0JBBpI/AAAAAAAAAII/HwyCv-S55lA/s320/bunneh.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the guy who does not like the National Anthem.&lt;br /&gt;This is the guy who did not feel the need to place the American flag on the side of his plane while campaigning.&lt;br /&gt;This is the guy who publicly stated he would take the side of Islam should "things get ugly."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Messiah?  Really?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-7206312905634287191?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/7206312905634287191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=7206312905634287191' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/7206312905634287191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/7206312905634287191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/11/scary.html' title='Scary'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SREXV0JBBpI/AAAAAAAAAII/HwyCv-S55lA/s72-c/bunneh.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-2065082421015248793</id><published>2008-11-04T12:30:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T12:33:04.923-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Voted</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SRCxC1Vqr7I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mmi070nla4M/s1600-h/ivotedsticker.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264902626631921586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 176px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SRCxC1Vqr7I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mmi070nla4M/s320/ivotedsticker.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dragged myself out of bed early this morning to drive to my polling place, and cast my vote for John McCain and Sarah Palin!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-2065082421015248793?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/2065082421015248793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=2065082421015248793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/2065082421015248793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/2065082421015248793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-voted.html' title='I Voted'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SRCxC1Vqr7I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mmi070nla4M/s72-c/ivotedsticker.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-7082214565595021351</id><published>2008-11-04T01:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T18:58:37.939-08:00</updated><title type='text'>She &amp; Him: San Francisco</title><content type='html'>This post is a little late coming, but on Monday night I went to the first of two She and Him concerts. OMG, it was everything I had hoped for. For those of you who don't know, She &amp;amp; Him is my &lt;strong&gt;favorite&lt;/strong&gt; band. Their CD is just amazing, and to be frank, I'm obsessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, T and I went to the concert.  We got to Bimbos 360 club in San Francisco about a half an hour before the opening band was about to go on, and somehow managed to end up in the front row. Lavander Diamond was the opening act, and they were....interesting... I love hippies, but this girl was a little out there. She kept saying these things like: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It is now this moment, and it will never be this moment again&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;and &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sometimes I like to put my hand over my heart and feel it beating.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;and my personal favorite:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Earth is the most beautiful planet in the world&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Their songs *sucked*, but none were as bad as their last song, which didn't have any lyrics, just screaming (which sounded vaguely Ariel-like). I didn't think I could laugh any harder, until T proved me wrong by asking where Ursula was when you need her. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;But then Zooey and M. Ward came out, and all was right in the world :) Sometimes I don't like hearing my favorite songs live, because the bands usually switch them up, and they don't sound as good, but these songs were even better live, even with the few changes made. We weren't able to take pictures, but I still managed to leave with a special souvenir. Zooey took a sip of her water bottle and then set it down right in front of my face. When the concert was over, she still hadn't come back for her water. I wasn't going to snag her water bottle until the guy next to me started eyeing it. That's when T jumped on the stage and grabbed it for me - so sweet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Here is said water bottle:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266484776971942562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SRZQAGpqOqI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/1-GkuvtJSm0/s320/zooeyswater.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-7082214565595021351?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/7082214565595021351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=7082214565595021351' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/7082214565595021351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/7082214565595021351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/11/she-him-san-francisco.html' title='She &amp; Him: San Francisco'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SRZQAGpqOqI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/1-GkuvtJSm0/s72-c/zooeyswater.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-8597687701358316107</id><published>2008-11-03T14:03:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T14:05:12.376-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Only a Few Hours...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SQ91imUPaRI/AAAAAAAAAHw/dxw17SZorZE/s1600-h/sheandhim.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264555726680844562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SQ91imUPaRI/AAAAAAAAAHw/dxw17SZorZE/s400/sheandhim.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...until the She &amp;amp; Him concert. Pictures and full descriptions of the magic that is M. Ward and Zooey Deschanel tomorrow!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/3314275913307516476-8597687701358316107?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/8597687701358316107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=8597687701358316107' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/8597687701358316107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/8597687701358316107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/11/only-few-hours.html' title='Only a Few Hours...'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SQ91imUPaRI/AAAAAAAAAHw/dxw17SZorZE/s72-c/sheandhim.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-8068747720631198197</id><published>2008-11-01T20:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T21:07:20.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>October Books Read</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I can't believe October is already over. I didn't read as much as I would have liked to, thanks mostly to my research paper being due. I will spare you all the economics books on China and Africa that I read bits and pieces of, and tell you about the chick lit I escaped to instead. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263896875560741682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SQ0eUaoWKzI/AAAAAAAAAHI/jFZTd9zB_Ag/s320/horizontal+life.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My Horizontal Life&lt;/span&gt;: A Collection of One-Night Stands &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;by Chelsea Handler. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I first picked up this book, I was a little sad that someone would have enough one-night stands to fill a book. A few hours later, when I finished this hilarious romp, I was sad that she didn't have more! Chelsea Handler (she is a stand-up comic, currently with her own show on E!) is unapologetic and just plain gutsy. I can't remember the last time I laughed this much when reading a book.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Final Say: Blush all you want, but read it and love it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SQ0hQ1mW3iI/AAAAAAAAAHY/n92ueARZBo4/s1600-h/twolittlegirlsinblue.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263900112615562786" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 198px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SQ0hQ1mW3iI/AAAAAAAAAHY/n92ueARZBo4/s320/twolittlegirlsinblue.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Two Little Girls in Blue&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;by Mary Higgins Clark &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Unfortunately, the hilarity that is Chelsea Handler was followed by this crap. I desperately needed something to read, but with my petite vacay that I am going on in a few days, I wasn't willing to shell out valuable dollars for one. Digging through my countless boxes of books actually produced this - one of the few I own that I haven't yet read. And apparently for good reason. Clark's supposed thriller is the story of twins who are kidnapped for ransom. One is returned, while the kidnapper decides to keep the other one. The result is less than thrilling. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Final Say: Don't bother.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SQ0imVaq4RI/AAAAAAAAAHg/1mrCwXiLiAo/s1600-h/remember+me.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263901581445357842" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 211px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SQ0imVaq4RI/AAAAAAAAAHg/1mrCwXiLiAo/s320/remember+me.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Remember Me&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;by Sophie Kinsella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't think of any other author who makes me happy the way Sophie Kinsella does. I first read her book &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Can You Keep a Secret &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;in a book club in high school and was hooked instantly. Young, witty, and British, Kinsella writes the way I only dream of writing. Her newest book is about Lexi, a run-0f-the-mill Londoner who wakes up one day in the hospital to learn she has amnesia. The last three years of her life are one big black hole in her brain, and she is left to wonder why she is married to one of the wealthiest (and gorgeous) men in Britain, why her best friends no longer speak to her, and why her teeth have been veneered. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Final say: Pick this one up along with &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Can You Keep a Secret &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;The Gatecrasher &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;(which she wrote as Madeleine Wickham). You will thank me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SQ0k0khTx0I/AAAAAAAAAHo/7sZTHVChUzA/s1600-h/ridinglessons.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263904025041160002" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 212px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SQ0k0khTx0I/AAAAAAAAAHo/7sZTHVChUzA/s320/ridinglessons.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Riding Lessons&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;by Sara Gruen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was the amazing debut novel of the author of &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Water for Elephants&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;.  I actually picked this up a while ago, before reading WFE, but hesitated to actually read it.  I thought like most horse-themed books it would be sappy and end with a horse dying, and so I was surprised and thrilled to find that once again, Gruen has created characters and a story that make it impossible to put her book down.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Final Say: Read and love &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Water for Elephants &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;first, then grab this title and its sequel &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Flying Changes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;.  Don't be deterred when you ask yourself what the heck a double oxer or a posting trot is - you'll quickly fall in love with Gruen's achingly real characters - both human and equine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&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/3314275913307516476-8068747720631198197?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/8068747720631198197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=8068747720631198197' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/8068747720631198197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/8068747720631198197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/11/october-books-read.html' title='October Books Read'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SQ0eUaoWKzI/AAAAAAAAAHI/jFZTd9zB_Ag/s72-c/horizontal+life.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-3659087899255597778</id><published>2008-10-30T20:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T20:29:38.938-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SQp7JT-ImtI/AAAAAAAAAHA/O9z0st-P_Y0/s1600-h/bunny.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263154514445769426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SQp7JT-ImtI/AAAAAAAAAHA/O9z0st-P_Y0/s400/bunny.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Happy Halloween!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:180%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;I'm not really into the scary part of Halloween (haha, I only just realized how stupid that sounds), so this little pirate bunny from my Grandma's garden will have to suffice in wishing you a happy (and safe) Halloween! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:180%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-3659087899255597778?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/3659087899255597778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=3659087899255597778' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/3659087899255597778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/3659087899255597778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/10/happy-halloween-im-not-really-into.html' title=''/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SQp7JT-ImtI/AAAAAAAAAHA/O9z0st-P_Y0/s72-c/bunny.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-2484196451158709334</id><published>2008-10-30T20:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T20:20:45.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Days Like This</title><content type='html'>I love days like this: the threat of rain, a cooler temperature, and the sweet smell of nature. Hot chocolate, Uggs, and sweatshirts are some of my all time favorite comforts, and today was the perfect day to enjoy all three. If I could only have spent the day curled up on the couch reading instead of going to school.... Tonight I can't wait to fall asleep to the sound of rain on the roof. But when I wake up tomorrow morning, that wonderful smell of fresh rain will be the last of my enjoyment. Every year I look forward to the rain and the coming of Fall, that is until I pull out my beloved Wellingtons and go out to the barn where Joey and Iggy will, inevitably, be caked in mud from rolling and playing in puddles. *Sigh* Filthy horses = happy horses = sad Kelsey.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-2484196451158709334?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/2484196451158709334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=2484196451158709334' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/2484196451158709334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/2484196451158709334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/10/days-like-this.html' title='Days Like This'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-2319836359966593680</id><published>2008-10-27T20:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T20:38:30.911-07:00</updated><title type='text'>7 Days....</title><content type='html'>....till this damn election is finally over (mmmvotemccainmmm)!  In the meantime, a good joke:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two kids are trick-or-treating on Halloween and get to a house where a man dressed as a vampire opens the door. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look at all this candy you've collected!" cries the Vampire.  "Now &lt;em&gt;I'm&lt;/em&gt; going to collect it from &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; to hand out to all of the kids who were too lazy to come trick-or-treating themselves."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One kid turns to the other and says, "Oh great, a Democrat."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-2319836359966593680?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/2319836359966593680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=2319836359966593680' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/2319836359966593680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/2319836359966593680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/10/7-days.html' title='7 Days....'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-7010829259810156670</id><published>2008-10-20T18:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T18:58:41.373-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O HAI GUYZ</title><content type='html'>This is just a hey-I'm-still-alive post. I'm currently chipping away at my paper due on Wednesday (something about China's stake in Sudanese oil...:/).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the meantime, here's a shoutout to my Joshy who apparently has been reading my blog!! I miss you! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And here's something to put a smile on your face... (Ah, there's just something awesome about cats with bad grammar....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259420190698846546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="234" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SP02zD8fOVI/AAAAAAAAAGw/_L-8AJqVibQ/s320/kitteh.bmp" width="384" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, one more because I'm in a good mood:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259420585044219746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SP03KA_wF2I/AAAAAAAAAG4/vI4FiIkoaoI/s400/catz.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-7010829259810156670?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/7010829259810156670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=7010829259810156670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/7010829259810156670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/7010829259810156670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/10/o-hai-guyz.html' title='O HAI GUYZ'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SP02zD8fOVI/AAAAAAAAAGw/_L-8AJqVibQ/s72-c/kitteh.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-407688236192589256</id><published>2008-10-12T20:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T20:41:42.991-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Name is Kelsey and I Have an Addiction</title><content type='html'>I went to Starbucks three times today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't even like coffee. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I got a venti hot chocolate with a shot of rasberry.  No whip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went back before going out to the barn for a venti double chocolaty chip frappachino.  No whip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way back from the barn I got a venti Passion Iced tea.  I don't think it comes with whip.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-407688236192589256?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/407688236192589256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=407688236192589256' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/407688236192589256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/407688236192589256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-name-is-kelsey-and-i-have-addiction.html' title='My Name is Kelsey and I Have an Addiction'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-3799957161216288507</id><published>2008-10-12T20:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T20:38:28.544-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boyz in Bandz</title><content type='html'>My mom, Amy, and I went to Rockband Live at San Jose State last night. It was an awesome concert featuring four different bands: The Cab, Dashboard Confessional, Plain White T's, and Panic at the Disco. Amy and I had gone to a Panic concert on their original tour, and after raving about it for months, grabbed tickets for this concert as soon as we heard they were apart of it. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The concert was amazing, and the theme of the night ended up being the attraction to boys in bands. Here's a sampling ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The lead singer and guitarist for The Cab. Musically, they were okay ... mostly just fun to look at.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256474134035699986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SPK_X_o6GRI/AAAAAAAAAGA/Vfz0OAF-Sl0/s200/CONCERT+006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Next up were the Plain White T's. I was excited about hearing Delilah live, but really thought that they were a bit of a one-hit wonder. Turns out, I liked every song they played more than the last one. They have a new song that's even better than Delilah called "1234". Seriously, download it. Love it. You won't be sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256474609030857938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SPK_zpIlBNI/AAAAAAAAAGI/oNUAqC6kKZ0/s320/CONCERT+018.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is not a boy in a band (duh). This is Amy very excited about the lead singer of the Plain White T's. She said, and I quote, "He reminds me of Ray Charles." You'll have to ask her to explain that one....something about the way he danced.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256475373690231314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SPLAgJtlGhI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/-fMMKZ_oYyk/s320/CONCERT+019.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The lead singer of Dashboard Confessional. I didn't love their songs, but he told funny jokes in between. I would post one here, but I have underage readers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256476316268237026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SPLBXBFsEOI/AAAAAAAAAGY/gUnWzcBHZXM/s320/sexxxxxxy1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Panic at the Disco. He is probably one of the most talented people in the entertainment industry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SPLB5QI7PoI/AAAAAAAAAGg/inWi_toPpus/s1600-h/CONCERT+048.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256476904423898754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SPLB5QI7PoI/AAAAAAAAAGg/inWi_toPpus/s320/CONCERT+048.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SPLCTEAQTFI/AAAAAAAAAGo/MfGlySg4XwA/s1600-h/CONCERT+061.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256477347842903122" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SPLCTEAQTFI/AAAAAAAAAGo/MfGlySg4XwA/s320/CONCERT+061.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SPLB5QI7PoI/AAAAAAAAAGg/inWi_toPpus/s1600-h/CONCERT+048.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SPLB5QI7PoI/AAAAAAAAAGg/inWi_toPpus/s1600-h/CONCERT+048.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/3314275913307516476-3799957161216288507?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/3799957161216288507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=3799957161216288507' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/3799957161216288507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/3799957161216288507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/10/boyz-in-bandz.html' title='Boyz in Bandz'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SPK_X_o6GRI/AAAAAAAAAGA/Vfz0OAF-Sl0/s72-c/CONCERT+006.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-6991199090300219737</id><published>2008-10-12T19:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T20:18:52.935-07:00</updated><title type='text'>September Books Read</title><content type='html'>I know this is a little late, but for all of my fellow readers, here are my books read in September: &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SPK5-nun8BI/AAAAAAAAAFg/NUvTOyV5dRk/s1600-h/beer.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256468200562356242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SPK5-nun8BI/AAAAAAAAAFg/NUvTOyV5dRk/s200/beer.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell &lt;/strong&gt;by Tucker Max.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Soon to be a movie, this book is a collection of sexual escapades from a Duke-educated, self-proclaimed a**hole.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't read this book if you have any morals. I personally thought it was hilarious. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Condi: The Condoleeza Rice Story &lt;/strong&gt;by Antonia Felix&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SPK7SSxeAuI/AAAAAAAAAFo/O7rgjfshHtQ/s1600-h/condi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256469638046155490" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SPK7SSxeAuI/AAAAAAAAAFo/O7rgjfshHtQ/s200/condi.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;A quick paperback about our current Secretary of State, the brilliant Condoleeza Rice. I didn't know much about her before reading this book, and picked it up only because I was interested in her educational path. Turns out she has led an unbelievablely interesting life, and there can be no question as to her level of absolute brilliance. A well-researched book about an important person of our time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As for her educational path, I was pleased to see that she began learning Russian and soviet studies around the same time in her college career I did. That made me feel a lot better, as I have shed many a tear over Russian frustrations.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SPK8ZS4hSVI/AAAAAAAAAFw/J-MKw-kepwc/s1600-h/sarah.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256470857846442322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SPK8ZS4hSVI/AAAAAAAAAFw/J-MKw-kepwc/s200/sarah.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sarah: How a Hockey Mom Turned Alaska's Political Establishment Upside Down &lt;/strong&gt;by Kaylene Johnson (Wasilla resident:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Apparently, September was the month for reading about powerful political women. When I picked this book up, it happened to be the only one available on our future vice-president. I liked her before, but *love* her after reading this book. Sarah Palin is a woman who truly wants what is best for our country. Slammed by both Democrats and Republicans she has taken every opportunity to vote the way she feels is right, ignoring party lines. A nice change from her main competitor :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SPK9TCc_uKI/AAAAAAAAAF4/N7oKjurAXc0/s1600-h/africa+bio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256471849868441762" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SPK9TCc_uKI/AAAAAAAAAF4/N7oKjurAXc0/s200/africa+bio.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Africa: A Biography of the Continent &lt;/strong&gt;by John Reader&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I pride myself on the fact that I have read almost every single book in the Africa section at Barnes and Noble.  I didn't read many books this month, because the majority of the month was spent getting through this massive chunk of history.  The book is a fascinating read though, for people like me, who can't get enough of anything having to do with this amazing place.  I won't bore you with details, especially since most of my readers (hi Dad! hi Amy!) were bombarded with [what I think] awesome facts and trivia almost every day.  &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/3314275913307516476-6991199090300219737?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/6991199090300219737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=6991199090300219737' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/6991199090300219737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/6991199090300219737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/10/september-books-read.html' title='September Books Read'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SPK5-nun8BI/AAAAAAAAAFg/NUvTOyV5dRk/s72-c/beer.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-5061650336798294530</id><published>2008-10-01T14:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T14:26:37.322-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy</title><content type='html'>I spent my entire eight hours of school yesterday texting Mystery Man (mystery to you, not to me:)).  Usually on Tuesdays, I am so exhausted after such a long day of work and classes that I fall into bed asleep as soon as I get home.  But tonight I fell into bed with cell phone in hand, because I stayed up until two in the morning texting.  After four hours of sleep, I still managed to wake up feeling fresh and just a little bit giddy;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-5061650336798294530?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/5061650336798294530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=5061650336798294530' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/5061650336798294530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/5061650336798294530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/10/happy.html' title='Happy'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-907382449534614020</id><published>2008-09-27T18:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T18:54:16.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Half-Cent Muffin?</title><content type='html'>I was at a cafe today and noticed a bunch of a muffins on a plate near the cash register.  In front of the plate was a nicely decorated, color-coordinated sign that said "Muffins:  .50 cents"  &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(hmm...imagine there is a cents sign after the 50 as there doesn't seem to be one in the font list here...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;.  I really wanted to grab two, put down a penny, and say thankyou and walk away.  I know that they obviously did not mean that a muffin cost half of a cent, but I was very annoyed that they would make such a mistake.  Things like that bug me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-907382449534614020?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/907382449534614020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=907382449534614020' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/907382449534614020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/907382449534614020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/09/half-cent-muffin.html' title='Half-Cent Muffin?'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-1313656663961131017</id><published>2008-09-21T10:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T12:26:09.972-07:00</updated><title type='text'>100 Things About Me</title><content type='html'>I saw this on a couple other blogs, and thought it was a good idea. It's now 2 a.m. and in my insomniatic (insomniatic?) state, it's become a wonderful idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here you go, 100 things you may or may not have known about yours truly:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. My birthday is March 21. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(Only six months...I want a puppy...:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. My middle name is Ann, after my paternal grandmother. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. I work at Barnes and Noble Booksellers. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Believe it or not, I love it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. I have 1 younger sister, and 1 older brother. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. I was born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;No, I did not leave my heart in San Francisco.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;"&gt;6. I have thre&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SNaPEz7cqTI/AAAAAAAAAE4/6zVSnukhFws/s1600-h/murrcat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248539728568690994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SNaPEz7cqTI/AAAAAAAAAE4/6zVSnukhFws/s200/murrcat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;e cats: Murray, Cosmo, and Linus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;7. I have two horses: Joey and Amigo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8. I won my horse, Joey, in a 4-H essay contest when I was ten years old.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9. I am a total bibliophile. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I read over forty books last year, and am trying to beat my record this year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;10. I have an odd fondness for lima beans.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;11. Contrary to my list of favorite literary greats, my all-time favorite book is "The Puppy Who Wanted a Boy," a children's picture book I got in Kindergarten.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SNaH4NFXthI/AAAAAAAAAEY/g0xjbOSpe1U/s1600-h/bones.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248531815401502226" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SNaH4NFXthI/AAAAAAAAAEY/g0xjbOSpe1U/s200/bones.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;12. My favorite TV show is &lt;em&gt;Bones.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;13. My favorite movie is &lt;em&gt;The Illusionist&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;14. I &lt;em&gt;live&lt;/em&gt; to travel. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;15. My favorite country visited is Spain. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;16. I most want to visit Rwanda. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;19. I have an extremely addictive personality.&lt;br /&gt;20. Luckily, I don't drink regularly, or use drugs (I don't even take over-the-counter painkillers)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;21. I love going to the theater.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;22. I have seen &lt;em&gt;Phantom of the Opera &lt;/em&gt;seven times. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;once in San Francisco, four times in London, and twice in Las Vegas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;23. I made my own theattrical debut as an Oompa Loompa in &lt;em&gt;Charlie and the Chocolate Factory&lt;/em&gt; in third grade. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;24. I graduated high school with an embarrassing 3.0 GPA&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;25. I scored an everage 1140 on the SATs. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. After two years at a JC, I am applying for transfer to some of the nation's top universities.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;27. I am double majoring in African studies and International Relations. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;28. I haven't yet chosen my minor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;29. I want to work for the United States Department of State.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;30. I am fluent in French&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;31. I am almost at "research ability" level in Russian&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;32. I am easily stressed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;33. I made it to the final round of auditions for College Jeopardy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;34. Discovering my avid interest in Africa was like falling in love: &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I don't know why or how it happened, but it did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;35. I dispise ham.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;36. My room is a mess.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;37. The last book I read was "Condi: The Condoleeza Rice Story."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248536848832389762" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SNaMdMEz4oI/AAAAAAAAAEg/9stw5l1o5bE/s200/sheandhim.jpg" border="0" /&gt;38. I am a proud registered Republican.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;39. I live in Brentwood, California and love it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;"&gt;40. My favorite band is She &amp;amp; Him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;41. I am going to three of the four California She &amp;amp; Him concerts. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;42. I wrote my first completed manuscript in sixth grade. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It's some of my best work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;43. Nothing inspires me like a good song.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;44. I am just starting piano lessons.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;45. I went to Spice Girl concerts on the original tour and the reunion tour.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;46. I play a mean hand of Texas Hold 'Em&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;47. The best reminder I've ever been given is "high school is not the finish line." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48. I was editor-in-Chief of my high school newspaper.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;49. Of my four family lines, three of them come from Yorkshire in England.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248554800917635074" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SNacyIzd4AI/AAAAAAAAAFY/BmZFpymG0ww/s200/vegas.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;"&gt;50. My favorite weekend getaway is Vegas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;51. The gas tank of my car is empty right now - as usual &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;52. I drive a 2008 Toyota Corolla&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;53. I hate talking on the phone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;54. I have a crush on a co-worker&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;55. I never get dessert at restaurants&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;56. I have a weakness for Mexican food.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;57. No trip to L.A. is complete without eating at Kate Mantilini's&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SNaSBuMeihI/AAAAAAAAAFA/IDOL0tafURw/s1600-h/travie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248542974024780306" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SNaSBuMeihI/AAAAAAAAAFA/IDOL0tafURw/s200/travie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;58. I am oddly attracted to Travie, the lead singer of Gym Class Heroes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;59. The National Anthem makes me cry &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;every freakin' time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;60. I collect decks of playing cards from all over the world. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I have about eighty decks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;61. I have various lines of my family history traced back to the 500s&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;62. I am a direct descendent of Edward I of England&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;63. A have a red notebook that goes with me everywhere. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It holds all of my story ideas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;64. My current novel is about a group of people who start thinking for themselves. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;That's all you get...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;65. My sister is my best friend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;66. My sister is my biggest critic&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;67. I truly believe I will accomplish something great in my lifetime.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;68. Bad grammar is my biggest turn-off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;69. I compare every guy I meet to one particular guy I have had a crush on for five years and counting. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I used to hate him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;70. I see no need to ever get married &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SNaWwRXzyPI/AAAAAAAAAFI/ufAyC-IXYsg/s1600-h/uct.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248548171788044530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SNaWwRXzyPI/AAAAAAAAAFI/ufAyC-IXYsg/s200/uct.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;71. I am going to study abroad at the University of Cape Town in South Africa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;72. Sometimes I have to fight the urge to leave everything here and buy a one-way ticket to some third-world country.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;73. I have seen 16 Vermeer paintings&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;74. One of my life goals is to see all 35 Vermeers&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;75. I am told I look like my dad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;76. The only useful thing I can cook is paella&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;77. I drink multiple glasses of chocolate milk a day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;78. My favorite soda is Dr. Pepper&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;79. I am a total insomniac&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;80. I have good friends from all over the world&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;81. I am fiercely competitive&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;82. I feel like I am most relaxed and myself when I am at the barn and with my horses.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;83. My room is designed after a picture of a hotel room in Kenya.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;84. I want to name my son Rufus&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;85. I ate In-and-Out Burger three times last week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;86. If all else fails, I will join the military.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;87. My hair color is not natural.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;88. I am currently reading "Africa: a Biography of the Continent."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;89. The last movie I watched was "Cool Runnings."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;90. I went to three different high schools&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;"&gt;91. I know every word to every She &amp;amp; Him song.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SNabfpvuByI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/_uKHSW91yQE/s1600-h/shcd.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248553383831144226" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SNabfpvuByI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/_uKHSW91yQE/s200/shcd.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;92. My favorite store is Lacoste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;93. This is hard.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;94. I have over thirty first cousins.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;95. I spent my 21st birthday is Vegas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;96. I am spending my 22nd birthday in Spain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;97. I send my cat a postcard from every place I go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;98. I love college football&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;99. I have road rage.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;100. I collect children's books for my future kids. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-1313656663961131017?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/1313656663961131017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=1313656663961131017' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/1313656663961131017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/1313656663961131017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/09/100-things-about-me.html' title='100 Things About Me'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SNaPEz7cqTI/AAAAAAAAAE4/6zVSnukhFws/s72-c/murrcat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-8665327851618672421</id><published>2008-09-21T09:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T10:14:00.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Results of My Social Experiment</title><content type='html'>Like everyone around me, I'm addicted to everything related to the Presidential election.  Like everyone around me, I desperately want change to be had and America to reach it's potential as the great nation that it is.  Unlike seemingly everyone around me, I do not think Barack Obama is the one who can do that.  Unlike the few Republicans around me, I'm hoping to make that fact known. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, living in San Francisco (or California for that matter) and saying you are a Republican is like walking up to Hitler wearing Star of David pajamas &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(Wow, it took a rediculously long time to decide what my Hitler-defying example should be wearing.  For those who may be interested, earrings, t-shirt, and flag were also typed and subsequently deleted. Maybe he should be wearing all of them)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;. According to some, the term "Republican" has sunk to the same level as words like 'Nazi', 'terrorist', 'clansman', and any of the other insane groups of people. On a daily basis, I hear sickening examples of liberal righteousness.  My U.S. Government teacher, one of many examples I could bring up, likes to assume that all fifty-odd students in his class worship the Left the way he does.   My annoyance at this fact is what instigated the idea of my little social experiment.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad's girlfriend was in Minnesota on a business trip a few days after the Republican National Convention and brought back a t-shirt that says: "I went to Minnesota to vote for McCain and Palin." I decided to wear this shirt out in public to see the type of reactions I would get.&lt;br /&gt;I chose Tuesday because it's my longest day: I am on campus from 1p until 10p.  (For my readers not interested in my college: I am in the process of transferring to UC Berkeley and attend the number on feeder school to Berkeley.  On a daily basis, I am surrounded by Berkeley-wannabes.  &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Seriously, I've seen enough dredlocks to last me a lifetime.&lt;/span&gt;  If you can think of a more liberal school than Berkeley, I will give you a cookie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to lie I was a little nervous and shaky when I first walked onto campus.  I was headed into campus for my first class right as morning classes were letting out, so there were tons of people walking towards me.  I noticed stares at my shirt right away.  Luckily, no horrible names or death looks followed.  I couldn't tell if I was disappointed or relieved by this.  I was on campus roughly three minutes before I got my first comment, and quite frankly, it surprised me.  A girl walked by with two of her friends and, with eyebrows raised in genuine surprise, said, "Wow.  Good for you." I had expected comments like these drenched in sarcasm, so it took me a moment to find my words once I realized that she was being genuine.  I managed a stuttery "thankyou." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't get any more comments for the rest of the day, but got plenty of looks.  My art history teacher spent a long moment staring at it, and even smiled at me.  Most people who walked by me read my shirt, and after awhile I started having fun with them by making sure I was looking them in the eye by the time they looked from my shirt to my face.  I don't think my math teacher noticed, but he's a bit of a frazzled person, and doesn't notice a lot besides whether his pens are running out of ink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time I got to my government class, I was confident.  I'm sure it's not the big, ground-breaking deal I thought it was at the time, but I was proud of myself for going against the grain and (again, more dramatic than is probably necessary) standing up for my own beliefs.  Also, as I had quietly hypothecized, my government teacher would have a negative comment.  What I hadn't hypothecized was that his would be the *first* negative comment after almost seven hours of wearing the t-shirt.  About ten minutes into his snore-inducing lecture, he caught sight of my shirt, stared for a good four or five seconds, and then obviously lost his train of thought because he had to stop mid-sentence and find his stride again.  A few minutes later, once the customary Palin-bashing began, he acknowledged my shirt and said "oh no, please tell me that shirt is a joke."  Nope.  I would call him the horrible name I am thinking, but there are a couple of kids who have this blog address.  So use your imagination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, quite a success I think.  Unfortunately, it was a terrifying and exhausting experience, and I have only worn the shirt to bed since.  I'm thinking it's going to make the trip to Sonoma today though (yikes).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-8665327851618672421?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/8665327851618672421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=8665327851618672421' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/8665327851618672421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/8665327851618672421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/09/results-of-my-social-experiment.html' title='Results of My Social Experiment'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-2249282577388691662</id><published>2008-09-18T20:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T20:41:43.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Little Girl Who Wants To Be President</title><content type='html'>I'm sorry to everyone who has taken the time to check in on my blog - it's been a bit of a hectic week.  I've been researching Africa's natural resources as they relate to genocide on the continent for a speech I have to do in my PoliSci class.  Needless to say, that hasn't left much time to share my brilliant life experiences (hah!) with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But because I want to blog &lt;em&gt;something&lt;/em&gt;, this cute little story was forwarded to me by e-mail, and I will post it here to share with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Little Girl Who Wants to be President&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was talking to a friend of mine's little girl, and she said she wanted to be President some day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both of her parents, liberal Democrats, were standing there, so I asked her,'If you were President what would be the first thing you would do?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She replied, 'I'd give food and houses to all the homeless people.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Wow - what a worthy goal.' I told her, 'You don't have to wait until you're President to do that. You can come over to my house and mow, pull weeds, andsweep my yard, and I'll pay you $50.  Then I'll take you over to the grocery store where the homeless guy hangs out, and you can give him the $50 to use toward food or a new house.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She thought that over for a few seconds 'cause she's only 6. And while herMom glared at me, she looked me straight in the eye and asked, 'Why doesn't the homeless guy come over and do the work, and you can just pay him the$50?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I said, &lt;strong&gt;'Welcome to the Republican Party .'&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her folks still aren't talking to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-2249282577388691662?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/2249282577388691662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=2249282577388691662' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/2249282577388691662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/2249282577388691662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/09/little-girl-who-wants-to-be-president.html' title='The Little Girl Who Wants To Be President'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-900932204343693778</id><published>2008-09-13T20:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T21:23:43.053-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lazy Saturday</title><content type='html'>I had a laid-back, but somewhat productive Saturday today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Amigo is ready to go back to work, which means I can finally ride again tomorrow. I was at the barn today and polished my tack in preparation. This probably marks the only time I have willingly polished my tack...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Amy and I played about a hundred games of gin. She beat me almost every time. Badly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We decided that if the cats dressed up for Halloween, this is what they would be: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Murray, my beloved fat cat: a go-go dancer. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Linus, who will hilariously roll and take off running at completely random times: a ninja (haha...this thought had me rolling in laughter)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cosmo (I don't know how to describe Cosmo. I guess the picture below can say more than I can. I walked into this closet about eight times before seeing him there): a ghost.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245727223952042162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SMyRHfxB6LI/AAAAAAAAAEA/rKF-U6KZ6kY/s320/cozzi.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now I am watching &lt;em&gt;Evita&lt;/em&gt; and bored out of my mind. She was interesting when we read about her in my English class, but now I'm a little bummed that I moved this ahead of &lt;em&gt;Cool Runnings&lt;/em&gt; on Netflix qeue.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-900932204343693778?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/900932204343693778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=900932204343693778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/900932204343693778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/900932204343693778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/09/lazy-saturday.html' title='Lazy Saturday'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SMyRHfxB6LI/AAAAAAAAAEA/rKF-U6KZ6kY/s72-c/cozzi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-3068073827258266800</id><published>2008-09-12T23:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T21:11:32.984-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Knight Lights</title><content type='html'>I was back with My Boys last tonight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first year my sister was a cheerleader, I skipped the games due to the fact that I despised football. Well, at that point, I despised most sports that didn't include horses. But when she made the Varsity cheerleading team, they got to travel to Paradise (some hick town a few hours away), and I decided to tag along for the novelty. I learned at that game that football isn't so bad, it's fun when they win, and my sister's cheerleading team was actually pretty good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the season progressed, I fell more and more in love with the team, getting to know the boys and learning that once I understood the game, football was actually quite entertaining (though I have since concluded that this does not apply to NFL football, where the players are all jerks and different rules apply. College football I seem to love just as much. Go Bears!!) I went to every game, and was even crying when we scored the winning touchdown with 23 seconds left to go to the championships. I learned more from that game, I think, than most of my own high school experiences. We finished the season 12-1, only losing the championship game (had we won, we would have been Northern California champions, and gone on to state).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SMyNDyC4IeI/AAAAAAAAAD4/GzKdtm57fYM/s1600-h/laslomas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245722762092749282" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SMyNDyC4IeI/AAAAAAAAAD4/GzKdtm57fYM/s320/laslomas.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the guys graduated last year and went on to college. Though they were all an integral part of our winning team, none of them are playing in college, though a couple of them should be: Paclebar, Shapiro (omg, what a kick), and Yago to name a few. The only guys back for their senior year are Sean Delfani and Diante Jackson. Jackson is our star, the one that makes amazing one-handed catches great plays. Apparently, he attended the USC training camp as a mere sophomore. I guess if he plays for them next year, I'll just have to set aside my pride and go to a USC game (blah Go Bears). That's Jackson on the right. Number One!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thrilled to go back for the first game last night. Even though we've moved and Amy isn't a Knight anymore, they're still My Boys!! It was nice sitting back up in those bleachers. Leave it to San Francisco to cool off so dramatically so quickly. A few nights ago, it was 95 degrees and dark, but I'd say fall has definitely come in along with football season. Though I was shivering uncontrollably, I wouldn't have it any other way! Nothing says football season more than sitting in the aluminum bleachers wrapped up in my scarf, gloves, and Knights sweatshirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too bad they suck this year. We played California High from San Ramon (my aunt and uncle both attended Cal High) and they slaughtered us. The final score was 22-9 Cal. What a difference a year makes. I didn't recognize any of the names on the sidelines, which was wierd. Luckily USC already knows Jackson is a hell of a player, because he didn't get much opportunity to shine last night. Yago had some off games as QB last year, but at least he could get the ball to his players.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Sigh*. Oh well, I'll be back next week. Go Knights!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-3068073827258266800?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/3068073827258266800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=3068073827258266800' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/3068073827258266800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/3068073827258266800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/09/friday-knight-lights.html' title='Friday Knight Lights'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SMyNDyC4IeI/AAAAAAAAAD4/GzKdtm57fYM/s72-c/laslomas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-6597956121134562950</id><published>2008-09-10T20:41:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T21:09:11.049-07:00</updated><title type='text'>9/11</title><content type='html'>Today, I was a little disappointed in America.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As most of you know, today is the seventh anniversary of 9/11. I can still remember waking up to the news of a plane crashing into the buildings, and the desperate days afterward. I know I wasn't the only one who couldn't watch enough television coverage, or read enough articles (or hear enough survivor stories for that matter). I will never forget September 11, 2001.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many times did we promise ourselves and those around us that we would never forget? Only seven years later, it seems that much of my country has already broken that promise. I have memorial issues of every major newspaper since 2001. This morning, however, I didn't bother buying a newspaper - the anniversary of the worst attack ever on American soil was apparently not a headliner. I listened to the radio without hearing one mention of what day it was. No one at school mentioned it, I conducted my own moment of silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time I was on my way home, I felt only sadness and a little bit of disgust at the idea that we have so quickly forgotten. What good can possibly come of such a short memory?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I saw them: a group of about five or six teenagers - they looked to be about fifteen or sixteen. They stood along Brentwood's busy street, Balfour Road, waving American flags and signs that said: "We will never forget 9/11." These teens were merely children in 2001, and yet they had organized themselves to remind the world that they will never forget the horror of 9/11. Then I saw a big rig. There were American flags all around the truck, so that they waved as he drove. On the back of the truck was painted, "In memory of all of those who were killed on September 11, 2001..." These two sights made me smile, and I felt a little bit better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So please don't forget what happened on September 11, 2001. I haven't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-6597956121134562950?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/6597956121134562950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=6597956121134562950' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/6597956121134562950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/6597956121134562950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/09/911.html' title='9/11'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-7648296560158850616</id><published>2008-09-10T20:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T21:01:06.889-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What a Week</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SMiT-D1ghnI/AAAAAAAAADw/dk0Nc_e_sGU/s1600-h/CIMG4166.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244604460463851122" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SMiT-D1ghnI/AAAAAAAAADw/dk0Nc_e_sGU/s320/CIMG4166.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This has been quite a busy week. I can't seem to stay caught up with everything that needs to be done. Just to give you an idea of my daily schedule:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am at the barn by &lt;strong&gt;6a &lt;/strong&gt;to feed the horses (there's one of them there on the right - Amigo), at work by 7:30a.  Work, work, work, then at school by &lt;strong&gt;2p&lt;/strong&gt;.  Most nights I am in class until &lt;strong&gt;10p &lt;/strong&gt;(except for Wednesdays when I am home to watch &lt;em&gt;Bones). ...&lt;/em&gt;yeah, I'm busy.   Any spare time that I'm not doing homework, I'm riding, or writing, or reading.  Sometimes I sleep too:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a lot to keep track of, so it's no wonder that sometimes I forget something.  In today's case, I FORGOT I HAD MY POLITICS TEST!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, I almost ditched today (it was just one of those days), but I'm really not much of a ditcher, so I ended up dragging myself to school.  My stomach sank as soon as I walked in the door and saw the scantrons on everyone's desk.  Luckily, I hadn't dawdled any longer leaving the house, because I had about four minutes - just enough time - to run to the student store and buy a scantron. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had taken reasonably awesome notes on the lectures, and had done the reading, but did not study for a test, and seriously hadn't looked at the book since finishing the assigned reading a week ago.  Not good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got the test and waited for a reason to cringe.  There were only 12 multiple choice questions which I managed to get through, hesitating only once (I can never remember if it's the independant or dependant variable that is affected during an experiment.  If you happen to know, feel free to comment me the answer).  And then I saw the essay question.  More or less word for word: "Describe Macchiavelli's views on the role of government as compared to James Madison's."  Freakin' bingo.  In last night's U.S. Government class, we discussed James Madison's part in the writing of the Constitution.  He was weary of a powerful central government and wanted to diffuse the power - hence the three branches of our federal system.  As for Macchiavelli, I luckily know enought about Macchiavellian control (control of the population through fear - thankyou Michael Crichton ) to bullshit my way through a rather fantastic essay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I got really lucky.  I think I need to go study now....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. &lt;em&gt;Bones&lt;/em&gt; was way awesome tonight.  I need to get myself a Booth....ya know, someone Conservative, works for the government, looks a bit like that guy who used to play Angel on &lt;em&gt;Buffy&lt;/em&gt;...:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-7648296560158850616?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/7648296560158850616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=7648296560158850616' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/7648296560158850616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/7648296560158850616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/09/what-week.html' title='What a Week'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SMiT-D1ghnI/AAAAAAAAADw/dk0Nc_e_sGU/s72-c/CIMG4166.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-2744302811576138650</id><published>2008-09-08T15:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T15:39:56.064-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blah</title><content type='html'>I came on here to post, and then saw that yesterday's post, 'Lazy Sunday" somehow is now not showing up. And in my drafts log, there is only a partial, messed-up version of it. So disappointing. Anyways, now I am too disappointed and frustrated to post now. (There was a really cute picture of Murray on there...) *Sigh* Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will post later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-2744302811576138650?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/2744302811576138650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=2744302811576138650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/2744302811576138650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/2744302811576138650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/09/blah.html' title='Blah'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-1083463809674200972</id><published>2008-09-03T22:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T22:57:25.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What's the Difference Between a Hockey Mom and a Pitbull?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SL94s6h74VI/AAAAAAAAADY/RbSmB4utF4A/s1600-h/sarapalin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242041204303716690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SL94s6h74VI/AAAAAAAAADY/RbSmB4utF4A/s320/sarapalin.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Lipstick."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not that it was going to be a tough decision anyway - I would vote for a sea monkey before Barack Obama - but after watching Sara Palin's speech tonight at the Republican National Convention, my vote for the McCain/Palin team is pretty much set in stone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;While Obama sure can give a speech (when he's got a teleprompter handy), Palin impressed me in another way. She possesses the ability to speak to the country as if she were speaking to longtime friends, rather than down to us. Dotted with quips and jokes, nothing in her speech felt contrived or forced, and she's got the sort of smile that you see, and just can't help smiling back. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course, these aren't the only reasons she won me over. On the first day of my political science class, I wrote on my introduction paper that I thought our biggest political challenge is our country's dependence on foreign oil. Both Obama and Palin agree we need to sever our dependence and fend for ourselves. Unlike Obama, Palin actually laid out her plan for doing so. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And it was nice to see her family. Her youngest daughter, Piper, was holding her 5-month old little brother, Trig, throughout much of the speech. At one point when the camera was on her, she was combing over his hair with her hands. Totally oblivious, she licks the entire length of her hand to better glue it down. You can't tell a kid to do that, and it was a completely genuine moment between two totally normal siblings. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And for those people who quickly jab at her lack of international experience ('cuz what? Obama has all kinds of international experience....), I believe Sara Palin proved tonight that she isn't one to mess with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Here's a little news flash for all those reporters and commentators: I'm not going to Washington to seek their good opinion. I'm going to Washington to serve the people of this country," she said. As for Obama, she didn't hesitate to call him a tax-raising, terrorist-coddling, self-indulgent liberal. And people cheered. I shake in my boots everytime I enter my liberally-biased government class (and political science class, and history class, and math class, and are you seeing the pattern here?) I would have loved to be in the crowd in that cheering stadium. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chuck Gast, a delegate from Maryland said, "For too many times, we've brought knives to gun fights. " When asked if Palin brought a gun, he replied, "Yes, I think she brings a big gun, like a moose gun."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nope, you don't want to mess with Sara Palin. Hope you were listening Barack.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/3314275913307516476-1083463809674200972?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/1083463809674200972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=1083463809674200972' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/1083463809674200972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/1083463809674200972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/09/whats-difference-between-hockey-mom-and.html' title='What&apos;s the Difference Between a Hockey Mom and a Pitbull?'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SL94s6h74VI/AAAAAAAAADY/RbSmB4utF4A/s72-c/sarapalin.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-2757394670761197259</id><published>2008-09-02T21:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T21:27:04.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bones Season Premiere Tomorrow</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241644177772302290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SL4Pm7ccz9I/AAAAAAAAADA/1utbN9GQbyw/s320/bones.jpg" border="0" /&gt;I just sat through eight straight hours of classes so I am not posting anything other than what is getting me through this week: &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;BONES STARTS TOMORROW NIGHT! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Bones, my favorite show in the whole world. Watch it. FOX. 8p.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SL4PwCXzCJI/AAAAAAAAADI/by6bbH4MqPg/s1600-h/davidboreanez.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241644334250657938" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SL4PwCXzCJI/AAAAAAAAADI/by6bbH4MqPg/s320/davidboreanez.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seely Booth. I love him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He is my Edward Cullen. Yep, I said it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SL4QrZ5lunI/AAAAAAAAADQ/2s0_dHGewwE/s1600-h/emilydeschanel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241645354178689650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SL4QrZ5lunI/AAAAAAAAADQ/2s0_dHGewwE/s320/emilydeschanel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Temperance Brennan. My firstborn will be named after this character, who I think is the best on TV. It's not often you get a female character who is not only gorgeous, but amazingly brilliant.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OMG, I'm so excited....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&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/3314275913307516476-2757394670761197259?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/2757394670761197259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=2757394670761197259' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/2757394670761197259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/2757394670761197259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/09/bones-season-premiere-tomorrow.html' title='Bones Season Premiere Tomorrow'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SL4Pm7ccz9I/AAAAAAAAADA/1utbN9GQbyw/s72-c/bones.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-4537508738311333858</id><published>2008-09-01T20:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T21:41:44.921-07:00</updated><title type='text'>August Books Read</title><content type='html'>I'm trying to keep track of all of the books I read, so where better to keep track of them than right here on this blog! For those of you who don't know, I work at Barnes and Noble and can recommend books all day long. If anyone reads anything that they see on here (or has already read something they see on here) let me know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLy8SEm92iI/AAAAAAAAABw/AKXFqjpuSV4/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241271085013260834" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLy8SEm92iI/AAAAAAAAABw/AKXFqjpuSV4/s200/images.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Twilight&lt;/strong&gt; by Stephenie Meyer. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, I tried not to get addicted, I really did. But I was in Europe, and it was on sale, and I desperately needed something to read having read both books I brought during my freakishly long layover in Chicago. So I tried it and I will say this about it: when I finished it, my thought was &lt;em&gt;What the hell was that? &lt;/em&gt;The writing is not particularly wonderful, and thinking back, I couldn't think of any major plot points really. And yet, I finished in less than a day and couldn't put it down. Which meant heading back out to Waterstone's and picking up:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241277703761725682" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLzCTVXkiPI/AAAAAAAAACg/gszO-7H3jZA/s200/newmoon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;New Moon&lt;/strong&gt; by Stephenie Meyer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, see above. Read in my hotel room in Dumfries and finished by the end of the day. Looking back, this is probably my favorite book in the Twilight saga.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLy9UUbAEZI/AAAAAAAAACA/tW44NghXUjI/s1600-h/eclipse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241272223129407890" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLy9UUbAEZI/AAAAAAAAACA/tW44NghXUjI/s200/eclipse.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Eclipse&lt;/strong&gt; by Stephenie Meyer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Again, see above. Though I had to make this one last a little more than a day. By now, I am officially addicted to all things Twilight.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLy951o9LvI/AAAAAAAAACI/MMa4q1uTNC0/s1600-h/breakingdawn.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLy951o9LvI/AAAAAAAAACI/MMa4q1uTNC0/s1600-h/breakingdawn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241272867701468914" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLy951o9LvI/AAAAAAAAACI/MMa4q1uTNC0/s200/breakingdawn.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Breaking Dawn &lt;/strong&gt;by Stephenie Meyer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Currently the last book in the saga, as bummed as that makes me. I really hope she continues the series, because after finishing it, I realized that I was a tad disappointed with the way it all ended. A certain plot point makes Bella go from very real and relatable, to not so much. And what kind of name is Renesmee? Okay, that's all I'll say....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall for the Twilight sage: 3 stars for quality of writing, five stars for addictiveness&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLy-x48mmmI/AAAAAAAAACQ/xMgTSQL_tJM/s1600-h/thehost.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241273830661855842" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLy-x48mmmI/AAAAAAAAACQ/xMgTSQL_tJM/s200/thehost.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;The Host&lt;/strong&gt; by Stephenie Meyer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Having enjoyed the Twilight books so much, I decided to check out her only other novel. The only type of book that I love more than those that are futuristic and apocolyptic are those that comment on society or humanity. Two of my favorite books are Brave New World and The Handmaiden's Tale for goodness sake. The Host fits into that format in that it makes an observation of humanity that I totally &lt;em&gt;just got&lt;/em&gt;. Worm-like aliens, called souls, have practically harvested earth's human population. The main character, a soul called Wanderer, can't quite make the voice of her host-body disappear. I hate to give it all away, but I will say that they become friends and it somehow manages to have a happy ending. This book really made me step back and take a look at Stephenie Meyer. She proves with this book that she can write more than just the sappy romance (though The Host doesn't lack in the I-wish-he-was-my-boyfriend department.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Four stars.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Deadline&lt;/strong&gt; by Chris Crutcher.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLzAhZ35uqI/AAAAAAAAACY/hSr1Pyhq2kk/s1600-h/deadline.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241275746465987234" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLzAhZ35uqI/AAAAAAAAACY/hSr1Pyhq2kk/s200/deadline.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I finished out the month with a quick read of a teen novel called Deadline. I had picked this up almost a year ago as an advanced reader's copy. I am trying to read a teen novel here and there to get the language down for my own book. Anyways, Deadline is about a senior in high school who, upon getting the required sports physical as a cross-country runner, he finds out that he has an aggressive case of leukemia. Instead of undergoing treatment that would make his last days miserable, he instead opts to keep his disease a secret. Going out for the football team, asking out the hottest girl in school, and questioning the politics of his small town are all ways that he tries to make the most of his final year. This book is witty and sensitive, though a bit preachy at times, but had me bawling at the end.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Three stars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&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/3314275913307516476-4537508738311333858?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/4537508738311333858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=4537508738311333858' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/4537508738311333858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/4537508738311333858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/09/august-books-read.html' title='August Books Read'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLy8SEm92iI/AAAAAAAAABw/AKXFqjpuSV4/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314275913307516476.post-5298668938568968557</id><published>2008-08-31T20:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T21:03:59.517-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='military'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travis air force base'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='air show'/><title type='text'>The Air Show</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLy6DdqxvII/AAAAAAAAABQ/IO5khnU2gP8/s1600-h/0831081012a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241268635018837122" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLy6DdqxvII/AAAAAAAAABQ/IO5khnU2gP8/s320/0831081012a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I wasn't going to blog about this as my very first blog, but since it was the first time I actually figured out how to send pictures from my camera phone (my digital camera was tragically injured in London), I decided that I might as well say a little something about it. I mean, there are pictures and everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Myself, my dad, my dad's girlfriend Lisa, and my sister and I headed out to Travis Air Force base for the air show. I love the military, and I love airplanes, so I had a lot of fun. It's so funny to see my dad at things like this: he's like a kid. Though I am interested in the planes, I can't name them all, and I definitely can't tell you anything remotely interesting about them. I was at least kept from yawning by the fact that my dad knew the names of every single plane, and went on and on telling us (I can admit it) interesting stories about most of the planes we saw. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We didn't stay for the whole show, but saw a few of the "performances" (for lack of better term). The coolest one was when they raced a plane against a jet-car. The flame coming off the back of the car was about twice the length of the car itself and though it started out slower than the plane, took over the lead with no problem by the end. Insane. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, here are some pictures....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLy6DZQPDxI/AAAAAAAAABI/90lLy3wySm4/s1600-h/0831081011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241268633833770770" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLy6DZQPDxI/AAAAAAAAABI/90lLy3wySm4/s320/0831081011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLy6D_IfxwI/AAAAAAAAABg/G0FkiEABQ8k/s1600-h/0831081123.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241268644001859330" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLy6D_IfxwI/AAAAAAAAABg/G0FkiEABQ8k/s320/0831081123.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLy6D3gMR6I/AAAAAAAAABo/8fukxFdHJRc/s1600-h/0831081122.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241268641953761186" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLy6D3gMR6I/AAAAAAAAABo/8fukxFdHJRc/s320/0831081122.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLy6DtSzOpI/AAAAAAAAABY/f_U1svKq5V4/s1600-h/0831081025.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241268639213238930" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLy6DtSzOpI/AAAAAAAAABY/f_U1svKq5V4/s320/0831081025.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3314275913307516476-5298668938568968557?l=thingsephemeral.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/feeds/5298668938568968557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3314275913307516476&amp;postID=5298668938568968557' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/5298668938568968557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3314275913307516476/posts/default/5298668938568968557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsephemeral.blogspot.com/2008/08/air-show.html' title='The Air Show'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03155116899549331247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLokpTFE5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YiDWb9bZ9gA/S220/Kelsey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDZh5BIa0Io/SLy6DdqxvII/AAAAAAAAABQ/IO5khnU2gP8/s72-c/0831081012a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
