<?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-7624966845258872455</id><updated>2012-02-16T12:25:26.385-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life, etc.</title><subtitle type='html'>Random, nonsense, exciting, buffoonery, ridiculous,completely irrelevant yet wonderful life in general.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>45</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-1047025778512820896</id><published>2009-06-26T21:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T21:12:22.074-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tumblr</title><content type='html'>I started an account over there, because it's better for the photos and other forms of non-writing posts I seem to enjoy.  You can find me at s-brooks.tumblr.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm not totally leaving here. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-1047025778512820896?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/1047025778512820896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=1047025778512820896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/1047025778512820896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/1047025778512820896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2009/06/tumblr.html' title='Tumblr'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-1438562635343751366</id><published>2009-06-03T20:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T20:40:31.686-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quote of the day</title><content type='html'>Today one of my sisters posted this to my Facebook wall because she said it reminded her of me:&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;"Writing is the only profession where no one considers you ridiculous if you earn no money."&lt;br /&gt;- Jules Renard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is good to know that even when I graduate and I'm starving because I can't find a job, I can tell people I'm a writer, and suddenly I gain some street cred.  Cheers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-1438562635343751366?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/1438562635343751366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=1438562635343751366' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/1438562635343751366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/1438562635343751366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2009/06/quote-of-day.html' title='Quote of the day'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-7032269319446168037</id><published>2009-05-20T09:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T09:37:46.926-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So cliche</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShQwKtd7BBI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/A5zfAWG4WDc/s1600-h/tulip.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337944418902803474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 351px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShQwKtd7BBI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/A5zfAWG4WDc/s400/tulip.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShQwKW0s-EI/AAAAAAAAAGI/6WypE7vCmAU/s1600-h/lilac.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337944412824336450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShQwKW0s-EI/AAAAAAAAAGI/6WypE7vCmAU/s400/lilac.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShQwKNst6ZI/AAAAAAAAAGA/bj4B3XDPciQ/s1600-h/leaves.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337944410374924690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShQwKNst6ZI/AAAAAAAAAGA/bj4B3XDPciQ/s400/leaves.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShQwJj5JlcI/AAAAAAAAAF4/w9O5FnZNcWQ/s1600-h/dandelion.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337944399152780738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 184px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShQwJj5JlcI/AAAAAAAAAF4/w9O5FnZNcWQ/s400/dandelion.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I took another wandering trip with my camera and my bike. Though I didn't end up photographing any of the places on my mental list, I did take some neat, albeit cliche photos of flowers and such.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-7032269319446168037?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/7032269319446168037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=7032269319446168037' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/7032269319446168037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/7032269319446168037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2009/05/so-cliche.html' title='So cliche'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShQwKtd7BBI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/A5zfAWG4WDc/s72-c/tulip.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-8698584725047787300</id><published>2009-05-11T12:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T08:47:38.237-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Remnants</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day last week, I found myself with some time to kill between classes, and nothing to accomplish because all of my major school work is done. Tired of hanging out on campus, I decided to aimlessly wander through the city with my camera, one of my favourite things to do when I have some free time. While in the area of Menominee Park, I noticed this sign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Years ago, there used to be a hospital across the street from the park(the same hospital in which I was born, back in '86), which has since been turned into some sort of nursing home/apartment hybrid, I do believe. Being the nerd that I am, I just had to stop and snap a photo. It was interesting to see this sign, as that hospital relocated across town something like 10 years ago. Yet the sign still remains, broken and falling apart, much like the cement in the former parking lot it directs you to.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334652282212518402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 260px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/Sgh9_ImBCgI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/eySaCV8MC3I/s400/old+hospital+sign+oshkosh+may+2009.jpg" 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/7624966845258872455-8698584725047787300?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/8698584725047787300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=8698584725047787300' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/8698584725047787300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/8698584725047787300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2009/05/remnants.html' title='Remnants'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/Sgh9_ImBCgI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/eySaCV8MC3I/s72-c/old+hospital+sign+oshkosh+may+2009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-7498226503065115343</id><published>2009-05-11T09:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T09:28:29.161-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Almost there...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/SghRRfwRjHI/AAAAAAAAAFI/W_k2BMym4hY/s1600-h/MKE+rainbow+7+May+09.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/SghRRfwRjHI/AAAAAAAAAFI/W_k2BMym4hY/s400/MKE+rainbow+7+May+09.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334603119643954290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past Thursday, I went down to Milwaukee to see a concert and spend some time with a friend that I haven't seen in quite some time.  It was grey, gloomy and rainy most of the time we were down there, but while we were eating dinner, a rainbow appeared.  She dragged me away from my food so I could step outside and see it too.  And since I nearly always have a camera on me, I took a picture.  Cheers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only one more week of school, then I finally have some time to myself!  Life is good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-7498226503065115343?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/7498226503065115343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=7498226503065115343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/7498226503065115343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/7498226503065115343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2009/05/almost-there.html' title='Almost there...'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/SghRRfwRjHI/AAAAAAAAAFI/W_k2BMym4hY/s72-c/MKE+rainbow+7+May+09.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-8408997838458965004</id><published>2009-04-27T09:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T09:55:31.614-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh distraction!</title><content type='html'>Right now, I'm supposed to be working on a very important essay due Thursday. Instead, I'm sitting at my favourite coffee shop drinking a large cup of peanut butter crunch coffee and surfing the internet. Yay distraction!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For whatever reason, it's nearly impossible for me to write at home, so I came to the coffee shop to work on my essay about what was the Pioneer Inn in Oshkosh. In my interpretive and persuasive writing (aka: editorials, reviews and investigative reporting) class, we're working on a class project about what to do with the waterfront in that city, with each of us choosing a different site. I chose the Pioneer because my mom worked there years ago, so I got to hear all of her stories about how wonderful it was, and the fact that it used to be so high-class and wonderful, and now it's just a vacant pile of nothing is pretty fascinating to me. I have all of my research done, and it is a story I'm excited to tell, but I'm in the middle of a major case of writer's block.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Normally, writing at this coffee shop comes very easy. There's just something about the atmosphere that puts me in the mood to write. Actually, I suppose it's working right now, but just not for the writing I NEED to do. Instead I'm wasting time with my piles of notes cluttering the table, with all of my highlited phrases taunting me while I write in my blog about how distracted I am and how I really need to stop procrastinating. I wrote a few words, but it's so hard to force myself to write papers when I'm just not feeling it. Grrrrr. Good thing there are only 2-1/2 weeks left in the semester.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also take comfort in the fact that next year, I only need electives.  And not that many of them either.  Only taking classes that I want to take makes the paper writing/endless readings/sitting in class/studying so much easier.  I have a good feeling about this fifth year of college.  Not being super-burdened with school also is allowing me to take on more at the paper.  Next semester, I'm still the copy chief and writer for every section except sports, but I also get to take on the additional role of assistant news editor.  I get to write the police blotter column, which is by far the most read of anything in the A-T.  Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's always these last few weeks when I'm constantly writing papers for political science classes, articles for the A-T and journalism classes and everything in between that force me to rethink my brilliant idea to become a writer when I grow up. Then the semester ends, and I develop amnesia about how much I've hated writing in the past few weeks. And I still want to be a writer when I grow up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-8408997838458965004?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/8408997838458965004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=8408997838458965004' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/8408997838458965004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/8408997838458965004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2009/04/oh-distraction.html' title='Oh distraction!'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-1844421528509166223</id><published>2009-04-16T07:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T07:59:23.013-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A summer job, complete with coffee mug!</title><content type='html'>Maybe my pursuit of journalism as a career choice isn't quite so useless.  You see, I somehow managed to score a summer job writing for a real paper that is not university-affiliated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks back, I had to participate in mock interviews for a class I'm taking.  Twice a year, the journalism program sets up these fake interviews presumably so we college students know how to write a resume, wear a business suit and appear competent when we graduate and look for that real job.  Though the jobs are fake, the interviewers are really in charge of hiring for various companies in the area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my interviews was for a small weekly in Kaukauna.  Apparently my energy and excitement about journalism made me look like a good potential employee, because he offered me a summer job.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, I went down to the office and met the rest of the staff and discussed details.  Apparently I'm going to be writing mostly features, and probably cover a few town hall meetings.  Since the paper is a small one, the staff does a lot more than they would at a bigger daily.  This means I'll probably get some experience in photography and layout, which would definately be beneficial to learn.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, there's pay!  It's not enough to quit my main job over, but most journalism internships and summer jobs are unpaid, especially in this economy, so I'm really just happy to get anything.  They also gave me my very own travel coffee mug with the company logo!  Score!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After this experience, I think I may actually be ready to graduate college next year.  Perhaps I will actually end up using my degree(s) after all.  Cheers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-1844421528509166223?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/1844421528509166223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=1844421528509166223' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/1844421528509166223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/1844421528509166223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2009/04/summer-job-complete-with-coffee-mug.html' title='A summer job, complete with coffee mug!'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-4058307934811091172</id><published>2009-04-02T08:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T08:43:50.674-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Advertising aggravates asphalt degredation in modern context</title><content type='html'>by Shayla Brooks of the Advance Titan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As annoying as the ice and snow of winter is, the potholes it leaves behind are perhaps worse. With city and county government more strapped for cash than ever before, many of these obnoxious potholes won?t get filled before damaging numerous vehicles, if ever. In Chicago, one company has a solution. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The March 26 issue of the Chicago Sun-Times reported that KFC, as in the fried chicken franchise, is willing to fix the annoying holes in exchange for permission to stencil ?refreshed by KFC? in white lettering on the fresh asphalt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the surface, this story appears rather harmless, and perhaps even funny. The city gets much needed maintenance done on someone else?s dime, in addition to saving crucial tax dollars. KFC gets publicity not only from the stenciled letters, but also from the news articles that will inevitably cover this quirky approach to marketing. And the motorists receive an easier commute essentially for free, as their tax money wasn?t used, instead paid for with discretionary dollars spent on fried chicken, biscuits and mashed potatoes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are we, as citizens, willing to outsource public works projects to corporations and allow ourselves to be surrounded by even more advertisement? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every day we are bombarded by advertisements, and seldom do we pay much attention. The first things that come to mind are usually the standard television commercials we skip through when given the opportunity, glossy magazine pages, and the sports stadiums named for corporate sponsors, such as Time Warner Cable field in Appleton. Granted, all of these examples are relatively benign; these ads are focused around for-profit leisure activities that one can easily choose to avoid or ignore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem comes when advertising creeps out of the business realm and into the public sector. Things like roads and schools should not be turned into money making opportunities. In an environment like today?s, these types of public ventures do indeed need money now more than perhaps ever before, but allowing corporations to brand public works to get this money is not the answer. Advertising does not belong so deep in the public sphere. The notion of companies putting their wallets into cash-strapped public sectors in order to take advantage of extremely visible and practically unavoidable ad space is most prominent in schools. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the past decade, there has been much controversy surrounding the idea of advertising in schools. School administrators often say they cannot afford to turn down the advertising and corporate sponsorships and keep funding programs. The impressionable minds of children combined with the necessities of attending school create a goldmine for advertisers to take advantage of these factors and turn students into consumers in exchange for money to fund various programs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The National Institute on Media and the Family Web site [http://www.mediafamily.org/facts/facts_adsinschool.shtml] points out numerous ways in which companies directly advertise to students in schools. Some of the more shocking examples listed include ?educational? posters in hallways advertising candies such as Skittles, 3 Musketeers and Starburst; school events paid for or sponsored by corporations, such as Homecoming sponsored by Dr. Pepper; and reward programs such as Book It!, where students receive coupons for free Pizza Hut pizza in exchange for meeting reading goals. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most recently, there have been news stories about a teacher in a suburban San Diego high school who has been selling advertisement space on his exams. Though the USA Today article points out that most of these advertisements are fairly harmless inspirational messages paid for by parents of these students, it is scary that one of the most formative environments in a person?s life has to fall victim to advertising. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While putting advertisements on patched potholes is not exactly the same as putting those same ads on a high school math exam, both raise the question of boundaries. Tax-funded public institutions such as schools and roads should not become avenues for companies to attempt to make a potential profit. As citizens, we pay taxes to the government in exchange for certain necessary services, like the two previously mentioned. If companies are allowed to ?sponsor? such things, will there be any place people can have the freedom to be seen as humans and not dollar signs? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-4058307934811091172?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/4058307934811091172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=4058307934811091172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/4058307934811091172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/4058307934811091172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2009/04/advertising-aggravates-asphalt.html' title='Advertising aggravates asphalt degredation in modern context'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-5778999512135134234</id><published>2009-03-15T19:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T20:03:29.194-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Homecoming of Sorts</title><content type='html'>Today was a lovely, spring-like day here in Wisconsin.  I had the day off, so I went home to visit the family and mooch a free meal.  While I was there, my dad and I took a walk and brought along our cameras.  Here's what I came up with:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" width="400" height="500" id="soundslider"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="https://titanfiles.uwosh.edu/users/brooks19/Winneconne/soundslider.swf?size=1&amp;format=xml&amp;embed_width=400&amp;embed_height=500" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="quality" value="high" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;param name="menu" value="false" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed src="https://titanfiles.uwosh.edu/users/brooks19/Winneconne/soundslider.swf?size=1&amp;format=xml&amp;embed_width=400&amp;embed_height=500" quality="high" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" width="400" height="500" menu="false" allowScriptAccess="sameDomain" allowFullScreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-5778999512135134234?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/5778999512135134234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=5778999512135134234' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/5778999512135134234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/5778999512135134234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2009/03/visits-home.html' title='A Homecoming of Sorts'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-4070432767601300390</id><published>2009-03-06T13:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T13:31:42.529-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Of Light and Colour</title><content type='html'>Here are a few photos I took while I was messing around with a slow shutter speed and some christmas lights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" width="400" height="400" id="soundslider"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="https://titanfiles.uwosh.edu/users/brooks19/Of_Light_and_Colour/soundslider.swf?size=1&amp;format=xml&amp;embed_width=400&amp;embed_height=400" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="quality" value="high" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;param name="menu" value="false" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#333333" /&gt;&lt;embed src="https://titanfiles.uwosh.edu/users/brooks19/Of_Light_and_Colour/soundslider.swf?size=1&amp;format=xml&amp;embed_width=400&amp;embed_height=400" quality="high" bgcolor="#333333" width="400" height="400" menu="false" allowScriptAccess="sameDomain" allowFullScreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-4070432767601300390?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/4070432767601300390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=4070432767601300390' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/4070432767601300390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/4070432767601300390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2009/03/of-light-and-colour.html' title='Of Light and Colour'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-3688501608050594205</id><published>2009-03-02T13:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T14:00:05.926-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A month full of everything and nothing</title><content type='html'>I know it's been something like a month since I've written on here.  I haven't disappeared; I'm just back in school (which is virtually the same thing now that I think about it). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only writing I've been doing is either for a class or something for the paper, which is usually about people whose lives are more interesting than mine.  If my mother is lucky enough to have your e-mail, I'm sure you've read it all, as she sends anything I ever publish to the entire world.  I think it's funny; I know she does it because she's just proud of her favourite oldest daughter.  It just makes me wonder if anyone else cares.  Quite honestly, most of the articles I write are about boring things.  So far, I've written a lot about the Oshkosh Common Council race, a race I can't even vote in.  Important, yes.  Interesting, not really.  Hopefully my name in the byline is enough to convince my misc. relatives and such to read it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also been spending more time in the office of the paper, because I'm now the copy chief.  That basically means that I'm the "penultimate authority on commas and the like," as a co-worker put it.  Not only do I have to proofread the individual articles, but I also get to painstakingly scan proofs of the pages to make damn sure there are no errors in grammar, punctuation, or facts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This semester, I also joined the photo club here on campus as a way to force myself to take more pictures.  When I knew how much I would be getting for a tax return, I promptly blew all of that on a digital SLR camera to further this goal.  I'll probably be posting many of these photos as a means to update without taking much time =).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that about covers it.  Between school, work and the paper, I haven't much time for writing for my own enjoyment.  But I'm trying.  And I promise I'm still around!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-3688501608050594205?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/3688501608050594205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=3688501608050594205' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/3688501608050594205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/3688501608050594205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2009/03/month-full-of-everything-and-nothing.html' title='A month full of everything and nothing'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-7573121070484708501</id><published>2009-01-30T09:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T13:22:11.834-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Fake" IDs and the AARP</title><content type='html'>A few days ago, I went to get the mail expecting random junk and maybe some packages for me containing such awesome things as textbooks or Legos I bought from ebay. While I did indeed get some of those things, among the pieces of random junk mail was something I did not expect: a membership card to the AARP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, the AARP. As in the American Association of Retired Persons. The lobbying organization for people over 50. In fact, my mother got one of the same letters not too long after she turned 50.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was baffled. My name was spelled correctly, right down to the middle initial. The address was correct too, including the 1/2. I can only wonder where they got my info. You see, at the ripe young age of 22, I'm not even half way to the age of 50. I'm still in college. I don't even have a "real" job that I can think about retiring from. I live in an apartment with my boyfriend and no kids. My father still has yet to reach this magical age. My mother barely has. I am confused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrew says I should pay the membership dues, because they're not too expensive, and I can also get sweet deals on things such as hotels, and health insurance, as once I graduate or turn 24, whichever comes first (I'm betting on the latter), I won't be eligible for my dad's coverage OR Medicare. The only question I have is if you actually have to BE 50 or older to enjoy the fruits of this magic card. It says nowhere on the enclosed papers that you do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the challenge is whether or not anyone will accept that card from me. The bouncers atbars barely accept my drivers license as proof that I'm old enough to be there. If most of them wonder if my real ID is a fake, I don't know anyone that would believe I could possibly be a member of the AARP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is something to think about, though. And if nothing else, it gives me a new story to tell and something to laugh about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-7573121070484708501?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/7573121070484708501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=7573121070484708501' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/7573121070484708501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/7573121070484708501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-know-i-getting-old-but-this-is-taking.html' title='&quot;Fake&quot; IDs and the AARP'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-8351993351818012634</id><published>2009-01-28T08:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T21:11:34.600-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Everybody's doin' it (25 things)</title><content type='html'>I suppose it's my turn to do this. Here are my 25 random things about myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I constantly worry that I've made a huge and expensive mistake by going to college for journalism and political science instead of something that may actually get me a job after I graduate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. The idea of a future after college gives me giant anxiety attacks. I feel as though I'll never be able to find a "professional" job, and I'll have to work at least part time in a grocery store for the rest of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. When I'm driving around delivering pizzas, I always listen to the same 10 or so of my favourite songs of the moment all night long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. When I'm driving around in my car alone, I pretend I'm a singer in a band while I sing to the same 10 or so songs on my 7-hour shift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. When I see terrible grammatical errors on signs in public, I correct them with sharpies whenever possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up. I figure I'll spend my whole life in and out of school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I get bad seasonal depression, so someday I hope to move somewhere it doesn't snow so I don't have to deal with it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. When I'm really, really pissed or upset for any reason, I get super quiet.  If I'm provoked enough after that point, I will explode.  It's usually not a good idea to ask me what's wrong.  If it's worth talking about, I'll say something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. I usually have so much to do that I have no idea what to do with myself on the rare occasion I actually do have a day off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. I often find myself wondering just what is the point of anything/everything.   Most of the time I come up with nothing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. If I don't get lots of caffiene during the day, I get crippling headaches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. I often feel like a traitor to my gender because I don't want kids and I don't want a big, formal wedding should I ever get married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. I hate the idea of having to "grow up" and "be an adult"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Years of dealing with customers has led me to have a gigantic hatred toward nearly everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. I spent way too much time thinking about this list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. If I had it my way, I would spend my entire life travelling from one place to another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. I have had a job since I was 14.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. I've been spending a lot of time daydreaming about warm weather. So much so that I get distracted from whatever I'm supposed to be doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Staying on any kind of task is very difficult for me. I have the attention span of an acorn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. I hate organized religion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. When I was younger, I used to read encyclopedias when there was nothing else to read. To this day, I will read anything put in front of me--even if it's super boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. I hate internet speak. I don't understand what is so difficult about typing out those two extra letters to spell out the full word, "you" instead of U, "are" instead of just R, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. I've become a giant brat about my grades in college. I once dropped an English class because I got a B- on a writing assignment, and a poli sci class because I got a C on an exam. I did not feel I deserved either of those grades.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. I hate being depressed, because when I really think about it, my life really isn't bad at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. To sum it all up, I'm just insane.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-8351993351818012634?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/8351993351818012634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=8351993351818012634' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/8351993351818012634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/8351993351818012634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2009/01/everybodys-doin-it-25-things.html' title='Everybody&apos;s doin&apos; it (25 things)'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-416678041339597944</id><published>2009-01-23T09:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T09:33:05.091-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter blahs/cabin fever</title><content type='html'>I have definately had enough of this winter.  I can't deal with the snow and the cold any longer.  Every day I still see snow is another day I think about packing up and moving somewhere it doesn't snow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm finding myself daydreaming more and more about spring and summer, when I can ditch the 10,000 layers of clothing.  When I get bored during the times Andrew is at work I can hop on my bike and wander wherever the bike goes.  When I can play tennis with my youngest sis, and we spend more time laughing than playing because we're both terrible.  When I can go camping with the family and swim during the day and drink beer with my dad in front of a large fire at night.  When I can drive around with the windows down and my music loud.  When I can visit my friend in Milwaukee and walk around town all day.  When I can walk around all day with a camera in my hand and see everything I look at every day in a new way.  When I can have my own picnics in a park with nothing but good food and a good book.  When my friends can come over and have parties in my garage and play pool and darts until the sun comes up in the morning.  When I can swing on swings and jump on trampolines.  When the trees have leaves, the grass is green and the flowers are in bloom.  When the earth doesn't look so...dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of all I miss being able to leave my house without using my car to get from one indoor place to another.  Only three more months...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-416678041339597944?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/416678041339597944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=416678041339597944' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/416678041339597944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/416678041339597944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2009/01/winter-blahscabin-fever.html' title='Winter blahs/cabin fever'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-3429685846962911517</id><published>2009-01-21T08:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T08:39:46.116-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What You're Up Against</title><content type='html'>...because these are fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Put your iTunes/Ruckus/Napster/etc on shuffle. ...or zune..&lt;br /&gt;2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.&lt;br /&gt;3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY" YOU SAY?&lt;br /&gt;Clean Sheets - ALL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?&lt;br /&gt;Sea Anemone - Jets to Brazil&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY?&lt;br /&gt;June on the West Coast - Bright Eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?&lt;br /&gt;Off With Your Head - Sleater-Kinney&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?&lt;br /&gt;The Chandelier Swing - Braid&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?&lt;br /&gt;Flechette - No Knife&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?&lt;br /&gt;The Chimbley Sweep - The Decemberists&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR PARENTS?&lt;br /&gt;O'no - Q and not U&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?&lt;br /&gt;Dog and Pony Show - Descendents&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT IS 2+2?&lt;br /&gt;I Don't Want to Grow Up - Descendents&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?&lt;br /&gt;Every Night's Another Story - The Early November&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?&lt;br /&gt;B is for Bethlehem - The Promise Ring&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT IS THE STORY OF YOUR LIFE?&lt;br /&gt;Road Signs Always Look Better Looking Over Your Shoulder -Defiance, Ohio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?&lt;br /&gt;Wet Work - Q and not U&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT MAKES YOU LAUGH?&lt;br /&gt;The Next Day - Thrice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?&lt;br /&gt;Big Decision - Elliot Smith&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?&lt;br /&gt;Honey Peeps - ALL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?&lt;br /&gt;Little League - Cap'n Jazz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?&lt;br /&gt;This Modern Love - Bloc Party&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?&lt;br /&gt;Call, Call - The Faint&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?&lt;br /&gt;All My Best Friends Are Metalheads - Less Than Jake &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?&lt;br /&gt;The Last Song I Will Ever Write About A Girl - The Ataris&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT'S THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN?&lt;br /&gt;Metronome Arthritis - At The Drive-In&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT IS THE ONE THING YOU REGRET?&lt;br /&gt;Stuck In - Mock Orange&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT MAKES YOU CRY?&lt;br /&gt;Summer in the City - Regina Spektor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WILL YOU EVER GET MARRIED?&lt;br /&gt;Dot - ALL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT SCARES YOU THE MOST?&lt;br /&gt;See You in the Shallows - Thrice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOW WILL YOU DIE?&lt;br /&gt;Your X-Rays Have Just Come Back From the Lab and We Think We Know What Your Problem is - Jets to Brazil&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DOES ANYONE LIKE YOU?&lt;br /&gt;Stay Tuned - Ambulance LTD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME, WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE?&lt;br /&gt;Do You Know Who You Are - Texas is the Reason&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT HURTS RIGHT NOW?&lt;br /&gt;Aren't We All Found Out - Maritime&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?&lt;br /&gt;What You're Up Against - Hey Mercedes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-3429685846962911517?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/3429685846962911517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=3429685846962911517' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/3429685846962911517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/3429685846962911517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-you-up-against.html' title='What You&amp;#39;re Up Against'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-5527184252702154198</id><published>2009-01-05T14:56:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T15:36:49.049-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am not a hairstylist.</title><content type='html'>Boredom leads me to do some pretty stupid things. For instance, today I was bored with my hair and had nothing else to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I decided to cut my own hair. Yes, just like little children often do. The only difference was that I did not ruin my hair to the hillarious epic proportions children do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know anyone reading this is probably thinking that by the age of 22, most people would realize that it is not a good idea to cut their own hair; however, I used to cut my hair all of the time in high school and usually liked the result.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Granted, I'm not 16 anymore, and back then my hair was about six or seven inches shorter. My "look" was also a little more punk rock than it is now, so I would just keep cutting and use styling products to have that messy bed-head look all of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to give myself layers. One side turned out looking pretty good. Somehow on the other side of my part those layers ended up being blunt chunks of hair cut 3 inches shorter than the rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No big deal. I've been thinking about cutting my hair again for quite some time. It falls (fell) a few inches past my shoulders, which is far too long for me. Now I finally have the motivation to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I've finally learned my lesson that self haircuts are not a good idea. I doubt it, though. I'll probably try cutting my own hair again the next time that I'm bored with a haircut.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-5527184252702154198?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/5527184252702154198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=5527184252702154198' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/5527184252702154198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/5527184252702154198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-am-not-hairstylist.html' title='I am not a hairstylist.'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-7533316538553292691</id><published>2009-01-01T12:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T13:01:59.781-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year!</title><content type='html'>Maybe 2009 will bring better things than 2008.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrew and I rang in the New Year by eating dinner at Frank's Pizza Palace, then out for drinks to await midnight.  We shared a pitcher of raspberry margaritas and watched drunken revelers make fools of themselves at karaoke.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-7533316538553292691?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/7533316538553292691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=7533316538553292691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/7533316538553292691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/7533316538553292691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2009/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year!'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-7307237695544611558</id><published>2008-12-10T08:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:28:24.905-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The best-of</title><content type='html'>For my photo class, our final project is a portfolio of our best work.  Since my photography is great and wonderful and awesome, I decided to post it here.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" width="400" height="533" id="soundslider"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="https://titanfiles.uwosh.edu/users/brooks19/Portfolio/soundslider.swf?size=1&amp;format=xml&amp;embed_width=400&amp;embed_height=533" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="quality" value="high" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;param name="menu" value="false" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed src="https://titanfiles.uwosh.edu/users/brooks19/Portfolio/soundslider.swf?size=1&amp;format=xml&amp;embed_width=400&amp;embed_height=533" quality="high" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" width="400" height="533" menu="false" allowScriptAccess="sameDomain" allowFullScreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-7307237695544611558?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/7307237695544611558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=7307237695544611558' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/7307237695544611558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/7307237695544611558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2008/12/best-of.html' title='The best-of'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-3246472981120438840</id><published>2008-12-04T09:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T09:29:02.419-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Where has all the time gone?</title><content type='html'>Once again, I'm staring at the end of a semester.  All of my papers and most of my projects are done, and all I have left is my photography portfolio, one exam and one week of class.  As nerdy as I am and enjoy the learning part of school, it will be nice not to have to worry about papers, projects, getting my ass out of bed for my 8 a.m. class, balancing paper deadlines with other work, etc.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next "stressor" is the holidays.  It gets frustrating to run from here to there and everywhere else, but it is nice to have all kinds of family and friends to celebrate with.  There is nothing better than eating, drinking and being merry.  I'll take the stress of finding time to spend with each and every one of my loved ones over the stress of papers and exams any day of the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-3246472981120438840?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/3246472981120438840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=3246472981120438840' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/3246472981120438840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/3246472981120438840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2008/12/where-has-all-time-gone.html' title='Where has all the time gone?'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-6688455437788113751</id><published>2008-11-16T09:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T09:19:45.035-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>All of my majour projects are due this week and next, leaving me with less time to do the things I enjoy, like being lazy.  Of course if I could bring myself to plan ahead and not be a procrastinator, I wouldn't nearly be so stressed.  Oh well.  Such is life.  On the upside, after these two weeks, the rest of the semester will be relatively easy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, enjoy the pictures I took for my photo class during the photo 2 shootout.  During the shootout, we worked in pairs and had only had the class period to go out and take pictures of anything, edit them and upload them to the class blog.  My partner and I came in first place and gained extra credit!  Here are the photos I took that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/SSBUqvGRs7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/69d-Wv-Ny10/s1600-h/IMG_0940.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269304657197511602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 367px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/SSBUqvGRs7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/69d-Wv-Ny10/s400/IMG_0940.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/SSBUNxi5GVI/AAAAAAAAAEU/ZHf3kikm9pQ/s1600-h/IMG_0931.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269304159638198610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 184px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/SSBUNxi5GVI/AAAAAAAAAEU/ZHf3kikm9pQ/s400/IMG_0931.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/7624966845258872455-6688455437788113751?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/6688455437788113751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=6688455437788113751' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/6688455437788113751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/6688455437788113751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2008/11/all-of-my-majour-projects-are-due-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/SSBUqvGRs7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/69d-Wv-Ny10/s72-c/IMG_0940.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-2639793863388498358</id><published>2008-11-05T09:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T09:36:12.628-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The election has finally come to an end!</title><content type='html'>After nearly two years of continuous campaigns, the election is finally over.  I'm relieved.  The last couple of weeks were just ridiculous.  Very little new ideas came out of the campaign trail, and I, for one, was sick of hearing the same old same old.  I'm also relieved that nobody will be mobbing me asking if I'm registered to vote, if I know where to vote, or if I'm voting at all.  The entire thing was getting out of hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I did vote.  I voted third party, much to the dismay of just about everyone.  I know many people would say that I wasted my vote, but I felt that my vote should go to the candidate who I felt most represented my beliefs, not just the lesser of the two evils that make up the majour parties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, voting third party left me free to criticize whoever would win without someone trying to paint me as a hypocrite by saying, "Well, you voted for him,"  because I didn't.  Further, since I took the time to cast a ballot, I am also free to bitch, because I "participated in democracy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to believe that Obama will live up to his message of hope.  I sincerely want him to make good on his promise of healing the wounds of the last eight years.  But, I also know how politicians tend to deviate from campaign promises once elected. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next four years have already been written.  Fixing our economy and deciding which direction to go in our "War on Terror" are going to be the main focus.  These are not easy issues to deal with.  Obama's ideas sound great on the campaign trail, but who knows what implementing them will actually do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the very least, the next four years will indeed bring change to America.  I just hope it's positive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-2639793863388498358?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/2639793863388498358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=2639793863388498358' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/2639793863388498358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/2639793863388498358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2008/11/election-has-finally-come-to-end.html' title='The election has finally come to an end!'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-6362868419778584759</id><published>2008-10-20T13:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T13:32:59.721-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So Angry!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wGr8njEWjtI/SMmRVfLJmdI/AAAAAAAAAbs/IcyJOcx87tE/s400/Monique+R+sad+cookies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wGr8njEWjtI/SMmRVfLJmdI/AAAAAAAAAbs/IcyJOcx87tE/s400/Monique+R+sad+cookies.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I found this picture of the angry cookies on the hilarious blog, cakewrecks.com.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could definitely go for some of these pissed-off cookies.  They are the funniest thing I've seen all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/REFERE%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-6362868419778584759?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/6362868419778584759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=6362868419778584759' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/6362868419778584759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/6362868419778584759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2008/10/so-angry.html' title='So Angry!'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wGr8njEWjtI/SMmRVfLJmdI/AAAAAAAAAbs/IcyJOcx87tE/s72-c/Monique+R+sad+cookies.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-7148185072559234229</id><published>2008-10-16T11:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T12:01:41.879-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Adventures in Journalism</title><content type='html'>As soon as I receive my Social Security card in the mail to complete the paper work it will be official. I will be a paid journalist! I'm mostly getting paid to copy-edit, as that is my main job there, but I will also get "bonus" pay ever week I publish a story. It's not much money...I'm not quitting my main job over it, but I've been happy doing this work for free. Now i can officially call myself a journalist! Horray!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't had much time to write too many things that are going on in my life, as I've been researching and writing about things that are impacting other's lives. That combined with school and work leaves little time. Such is the life of a college student though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is an article I published back in September. It's not my absolute best work, in my opinion, but I wrote it and it made it to print. Enjoy! I have articles in the works to be published in both the Monday and Thursday issues of the paper next week, so I'll post them when they're published.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;McCain Focuses on Tax Breaks&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;by Shayla Brooks, of the Advance-Titan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When asked what the most important issue facing America in the upcoming elections, many will say that like the 1992 election that marked the end of George H.W. Bush‘s term, “it’s the economy, stupid.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrew Evenson, chair of the College Republicans, said in this election, the “things that hit the pocketbook” were going to determine the outcome of this election, specifically naming gas prices and job outlooks in addition to the economy in general.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natalie Whitman, a junior at UW-Oshkosh, also said, without hesitation, the economy is the most important issue she will consider when voting in November.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to Project Vote Smart, John McCain is the current senior senator from Arizona and the Republican nominee for President. Prior to first being elected to the Senate in 1986, McCain also served in the House of Representatives from 1982 through 1986.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evenson said Sen. John McCain has the advantage in this election because of his stance on the economy, despite the criticisms of those that say he doesn’t understand the economy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He understands that bureaucrats won’t fix things,” Evenson said. “You have to work with business, not try to take them over.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whitman disagreed and said not only does McCain not understand the economy, he even admitted to having little knowledge about how it works. She also said he changed his viewpoint on economic issues multiple times, proving that he is not the best candidate to help in these troubling times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to ontheissues.org, a non-partisan Web site focused on allowing voters to research voting records and positions of candidates, when it comes to the economy, McCain said despite current tough times, we are better off than we were eight years ago, specifically pointing to low unemployment and inflation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evenson said McCain would give businesses incentives, such as tax incentives, such as tax breaks, to make it easier for the businesses to further innovate and thus create jobs and boost the economy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Using cars as an example, Evenson said that with tax breaks and other incentives, the quality would get better and cars will be come more efficient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Creating jobs is important for college students because they need to look at the long-term, Evenson said. With reports of job losses becoming all too commonplace in the news, students need to wonder if there is going to be a college-level job for them after graduation, he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to factcheck.org, McCain voted against the first round of Bush’s tax cuts in 2001 and 2003, saying there was no cut in spending associated with the tax breaks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 2006, he voted to make these tax cuts permanent and said that government spending was out of control and raising taxes would only worsen the growing economic situation, according to ontheissues.org.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;McCain also said that raising taxes will eliminate jobs, and that producing more energy in the United States will create more jobs and help offset the cost of rising fuel prices, according to ontheissues.org.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In his years in the Senate, McCain has gained a reputation of being a political maverick, one who is able to reach across party lines to get things accomplished in Congress. He worked with Democratic Sens. Russ Feingold and Ted Kennedy on bills relating to campaign finance and immigration, respectively.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whitman said this image was false and that McCain wishes to appear bi-partisan, but ultimately he votes with whatever is popular instead of “fighting for what’s right.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 2007, voting records indicate that McCain voted with the Republican Party 90 percent of the time, according to factcheck.org.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Attack ads from the Obama campaign have brought this up and state that voting for McCain would be like voting for President Bush’s third term, a statement Whitman said she agrees with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite being on opposite sides of the political spectrum, both Evenson and Whitman agree that this election is one of huge importance, and the issues that Americans must deal with every day, like the economy, will be the issues that decide who will be the next in the White House.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-7148185072559234229?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/7148185072559234229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=7148185072559234229' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/7148185072559234229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/7148185072559234229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2008/10/adventures-in-journalism.html' title='Adventures in Journalism'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-4750124094140956302</id><published>2008-10-07T21:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T22:10:47.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>St-st-st-studio! / I lied.</title><content type='html'>Another sweet photography project I did for my class was working in the school's photo studio.  It was actually kind of fun, and I produced some sweet pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/SOw8Grao1jI/AAAAAAAAAB4/GXaYDSSV-18/s1600-h/beverage+shot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/SOw8Grao1jI/AAAAAAAAAB4/GXaYDSSV-18/s320/beverage+shot.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254640950665860658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one is pretty self-explanatory.  I loved the colours.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/SOw8ZNXy4YI/AAAAAAAAACA/4XySkwnYR0g/s1600-h/still.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/SOw8ZNXy4YI/AAAAAAAAACA/4XySkwnYR0g/s320/still.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254641269018386818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's another still-life.  I had these metallic cups in my cupboard and used them just because they are colourful and this class has a focus on colour.  On both of these, I got positive comments from my professor on my great use of colour and how I made interesting photographs out of very simple subjects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/SOw83hOHw_I/AAAAAAAAACI/rXNbA6-r-68/s1600-h/Laughing+Sami.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/SOw83hOHw_I/AAAAAAAAACI/rXNbA6-r-68/s320/Laughing+Sami.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254641789742597106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third is a portrait of my sis. She hates this picture, but I like it better than the other ones I took of her.  She tried serious looks and class-picture smiles, but all of them looked fake.  We were joking around when she started laughing on the set, and I kept snapping the camera.  I think it works, especially if you know her, because she is pretty goofy and laughs a lot.  Those who know her also know that she probably would not be wearing those necklaces.  I made her wear them for the portrait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off topic, I was re-reading some of my old posts on this wonderful blog of mine, and I wrote one year ago that I didn't like writing as much as I thought I did at the time.  I take that back.  I started writing a little again for my campus newspaper this semester, in addition to the copy editing I have been doing since the prior, and I love it.  I want to be a journalist again, at least that's what I say today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-4750124094140956302?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/4750124094140956302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=4750124094140956302' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/4750124094140956302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/4750124094140956302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2008/10/st-st-st-studio.html' title='St-st-st-studio! / I lied.'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/SOw8Grao1jI/AAAAAAAAAB4/GXaYDSSV-18/s72-c/beverage+shot.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-2271062427884521273</id><published>2008-09-26T13:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T13:08:33.627-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Photo class fun!</title><content type='html'>I'm in another photo class, and one of the requirements of that class is to have a photo blog with our work. Mine is here: &lt;a href="http://shaylasphotoclass.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://shaylasphotoclass.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-2271062427884521273?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/2271062427884521273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=2271062427884521273' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/2271062427884521273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/2271062427884521273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2008/09/photo-class-fun.html' title='Photo class fun!'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-7264871214726696971</id><published>2008-05-02T21:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T22:04:39.054-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When Daddy Wins the Lottery, I'll Run for the Senate</title><content type='html'>The other day, I had a nice conversation about politics with my dear old Dad.  I told him that someday I would love to be a senator or congresswoman, as I think it would be a means for me to try to change things in a government that I believe is so fundamentally flawed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We talked about the idiocy of politics and elections today, especially about how everyone is bought and sold to the highest bidder.  I mentioned how I would love to be in the government, but I am neither a democrat nor a republican.  I would also not be willing to compromise my beliefs for the interest groups who would basically finance my campaign.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's when we came up with the brilliant idea.  My parents play the lottery every week.  As soon as they win, my father promised to finance my run for the Senate.  If they every do win, I have every intention to hold him to it. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-7264871214726696971?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/7264871214726696971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=7264871214726696971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/7264871214726696971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/7264871214726696971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2008/05/when-daddy-wins-lottery-ill-run-for.html' title='When Daddy Wins the Lottery, I&apos;ll Run for the Senate'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-1847211519373166742</id><published>2008-04-28T14:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T14:50:57.794-07:00</updated><title type='text'>People Over Profits!</title><content type='html'>Today in my Foreign Policy class, we approached the topic of outsourcing jobs. I have a lot to say on the subject, thus I left the class angry and with inspiration for this post. I personally believe that outsourcing jobs has everything to do with profits over people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These companies and corporations move overseas and to Mexico because they do not have to provide their workers with benefits--including a living wage. It is only in the interest of profit. Nothing more. It has nothing to do with the fact that these workers may be harder workers or that the foreign country has natural resources that are more equipped for that industry. It is so that the heads of the corporations can make more money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This comes at the expense of the middle class. Outsourcing destroys the middle class. Without these manufacturing jobs, Americans are stuck with two options: be wealthy or be a part of this service economy that serves the wealthy. And do not think for a moment that these people in the service economy can somehow become wealthy. Generally speaking, they cannot afford the education that will get them the jobs that could lead to wealth. Which should not be the case, but that is a subject for another time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my classmates argued the point that the issue is not all black and white. His point was that corporations do not have to be socially responsible, because profit is the motivation for business, and that a lot of upper-middle class individuals may own stocks in these corporations and they will benefit from moves overseas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corporations do not have to be socially responsible? This notion is completely reprehensible to me. I cannot comprehend how corporations should have the right to pay their employees the least possible wage and not provide benefits so they can make a profit. If the company's trade is really that great, it will make plenty of profit while allowing the workers a decent living. But, I suppose greed&lt;i&gt; is&lt;/i&gt; the American way.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as the stock issue goes, who will be hurt more by this? The people who do not make extra money on stocks because the company remains in America? Or the person who lost his job to someone in another country because the company and stock holders need to make more money? Both the stock holders and corporate heads will have a more than adequate living if the company stayed in this country. The worker will not have such a great living should his or her job be taken away so a rich person can get richer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admit that I am extremely biased. My father has one of these manufacturing jobs. While my family is far from wealthy, there is always food on our table, a roof over our heads that met building codes, insurance to allow us proper health care and every other basic necessity has been met.  There were never a lot of extra and extravangant things while I was growing up, but all of our basic needs were met. If his job were to get shipped overseas, my family would economically fall apart while the CEO could buy another mansion in Europe. I think food and shelter are much more important than another mansion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is the problem with America and the world today. It clearly favours profit and greed over people and cooperation. I wish people would just see that the opposite holds true. People over profits!&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-1847211519373166742?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/1847211519373166742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=1847211519373166742' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/1847211519373166742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/1847211519373166742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2008/04/people-over-profits.html' title='People Over Profits!'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-8650978831772455986</id><published>2008-04-26T22:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T22:37:12.802-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Celebrity twins?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a title="MyHeritage - free family trees, genealogy and face recognition" href="http://www.myheritage.com/collage" target="_blank" alt="MyHeritage - free family trees, genealogy and face recognition"&gt;&lt;img height="574" src="http://www.myheritagefiles.com/J/storage/site1/files/31/53/82/315382_47230757d041849mzo5u85.JPG" width="500" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.myheritage.com/collage" title="MyHeritage - free family trees, genealogy and face recognition" alt="MyHeritage - free family trees, genealogy and face recognition" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.myheritagefiles.com/I/storage/site1/files/31/66/52/316652_36585257f04184rshizw52.JPG" width="500" height="574" border="0" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-8650978831772455986?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/8650978831772455986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=8650978831772455986' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/8650978831772455986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/8650978831772455986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2008/04/celebrity-twins.html' title='Celebrity twins?'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-7992711996362347920</id><published>2008-04-18T14:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T14:42:33.194-07:00</updated><title type='text'>R.I.P. Hamtaro 2006-2008</title><content type='html'>My hamster died today. As sad as that is, I don't think anyone was surprised. She hadn't been running around her cage as much; she hadn't been running on her wheel as frantically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People were never her favourite. The day I got her, she chewed her way out of the cardboard box the petstore gave me just before I got home. I didn't know what else to do, so I put her in the glove compartment thinking that I would be home in five minutes, so she would be fine. Five minutes later, I opened in and she was gone. I didn't want her to freeze in the Wisconsin winter cold, so I put a dish of food on the floor of my car and went to look for her every few minutes. After a couple of hours, she finally made it out. I kept trying to grab her, but she skillfully evaded my moves for quite some time. I finally got her in a cage and in the warm house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hamtaro wasn't very nice, but damn she was adorable. I miss that silly hamster.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-7992711996362347920?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/7992711996362347920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=7992711996362347920' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/7992711996362347920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/7992711996362347920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2008/04/rip-hamtaro-2006-2008.html' title='R.I.P. Hamtaro 2006-2008'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-5854270805664193598</id><published>2008-03-21T22:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T09:10:31.584-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Car shopping</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;The people in my family are characters.  Chances are, if you are reading this, you know me personally.  If you know me, you likely know my family and can attest to that statement.  I don't mean this in a bad way at all.  I love my family dearly.  The fact that they are all interesting people makes anything I do with them that much more newsworthy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today I went car shopping with my folks.  I need a new car for a myriad of reasons I will discuss later.  My father is pretty much my personal mechanic, thus he knows a ton about cars. For this reason, I would never buy one without his blessing.  My mother loves shopping for anything and everything, so she just had to come.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I saw an offer for a brand new 2008 car that I could actually reasonably afford.  I found it on a television commercial.  The car is fabulous.  I just needed the green light from my father, and all would be mine!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We went to the dealership today and talked with the salesman.  I basically knew what I wanted, but he went through his salespitch anyway.  My mother was insanely excited about every little feature.  A jack to plug my ipod into? Side air bags?  A cd player that was standard?  My mother was ooohing and ahhhing at all of it.  Her favourite part of the car is the little bar on the dash that works as an odometer and gas mileage, tire pressure and oil life information centre.  When the salesman went over that, she was insanely excited.  My father just nodded his head continuously in approval.  Don't get me wrong, I was excited about the car as well, but my mother just gets extremely excited over everything.  Anything good or somewhat exciting gets my mother acting like a child on Christmas.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After I was sold on the car and had my father's approval, then came the details part.  I got to decide on the colour.  I was fine with blue or black.  Both are equally wonderful, but my mother kept urging me to make a decision. The way she was talking, one would have thought it was a life or death decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ended up with the black one.  It's nice to drive a car that I don't have to worry about an imminent breakdown.  With my former car, it wasn't a matter of if.  It was a matter of when.&lt;br /&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/7624966845258872455-5854270805664193598?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/5854270805664193598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=5854270805664193598' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/5854270805664193598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/5854270805664193598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2008/03/car-shopping.html' title='Car shopping'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-6582344479696083929</id><published>2008-03-10T10:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T10:17:47.921-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Street-by-street pizza tracking?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.informationweek.com/software/showArticle.jhtml?articleID=206102079"&gt;http://www.informationweek.com/software/showArticle.jhtml?articleID=206102079&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this article, the author writes about how pizza delivery drives at Papa John's are required to carry a GPS-enabled handset that allows customers to track their pizza deliveries street-by-street, in real time.  This is an advancement of a similar pizza-tracking service offered by Domino's. The difference is that with Domino's system, it only shows where the pizza is in the store, or if the driver is on his/her way.  There is no GPS tracking device.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customers seem to be enjoying these developments.  The article pointed out that there was a surge in online ordering at Papa John's after they unveiled this service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a pizza delivery driver myself, this terrifies me.  I personally feel this is an invasion of privacy, pushed by big business in order to drive up profits.  Should this come to the company that I work for, my boss can expect my resignation.  The idea of allowing a customer to see exactly where I am at any particular moment from the time they order a pizza until said pizza arrives at the door is absurd.  I do not think it is fair that drivers should be tracked and followed in order to provide the "best service possible" to a customer.  What's next?  Surveilance cameras and sensors in my car to relay details about my driving on the job to my boss/corporate headquarters?  My car is my personal property, and I do not feel the company has any  business tracking me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would be funny, however, if a customer who is known to not tip should happen to stumble upon this service.  By not tipping, a customer basically demands the lowest level of service possible.  If I get one of those orders, I joyride for quite awhile.   Sometimes I stop at the drive-through for some food.  Other times I stop to fill up my gas tank and get coffee and candy.  Still other times, I just drive aimlessly.  I know quite a few other delivery drivers who do the same.  If you don't care enough to tip me, I don't care enough to make sure your food is hot.  Plain and simple.  The moral of the story?  Always tip the driver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tracking a pizza alone isn't all that intrusive, but this development lends itself to a slippery slope of further surveilance.  That is what terrifies me the most.  Should somebody at work need to know where I am at a specific time, I have a cell phone.  The number is posted on the bulletin board.  Should a customer wish to know when the pizza will arrive, he or she can call.  A manager can tell precisely what time I left and approximately when I will arrive.  Nobody needs to know what particular street I am on and which route I choose to take.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-6582344479696083929?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/6582344479696083929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=6582344479696083929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/6582344479696083929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/6582344479696083929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2008/03/street-by-street-pizza-tracking.html' title='Street-by-street pizza tracking?'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-7896081576685435287</id><published>2008-02-22T11:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T11:38:00.751-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Marriage, etc.</title><content type='html'>Marriage is a subject that has been on my mind a lot lately.  Not because of any changes or possible changes in my status, but it seems as though everyone in my age group is running to the altar.  A few former classmates, co-workers, even the boyfriend's little sister have either gotten married or announced engagments in the past year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This terrifies me.  It isn't because I'm anti-marriage or want to get married myself.  The thing that scares me is that most of these people aren't old enough to legally drink!  That said, I'm not judging anyone.  I don't know everything about each individual relationship.  Everyone has different reasons, circumstances, etc.  I just think it's a little too early.  I honestly and  sincerely hope that I am wrong, and that everyone/anyone I am currently thinking of never has to deal with a divorce in five years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of these couples have been together for less time than my boyfriend and me.  I don't know if we're just freaks of nature, but we've pretty much decided that after three years and a few months, a wedding is nowhere on the radar.  After one year or so, (which is how long most of these people have been together) , how can anyone, especially someone under the age of 21 know that he/she wants to be with this person forever?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Granted, none of these people are going to school at this point.  Perhaps that makes a difference.  Perhaps school is just a way of prolonging immaturity and delaying "true" adulthood.  I'm not sure; however, I think that regardless of any sort of advanced schooling, most people change immensely in their beliefs, ideas and ambitions in their late teens and 20's.  How many people were the same person at 26 that they were at 20?  If this significant other is really "the one", won't they still be there in a few years?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This sudden wave of marriage is also putting a lot of unwanted pressure on me.  I know that nobody who has ever made a comment really means anything bad by it, but it still annoys me.  A former co-worker recently announced her engagement, and I made the joking comment that it's been three years and I still don't have a ring.  She replied, "I was actually thinking about that.  You two have been together for a while longer than us.  When are you two finally going to get married?"  As I say to every other person, never.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I mentioned earlier, the boyfriend's little sister has a wedding coming up this spring.  This guy has only been in the picture for a little over a year or so.  I can only imagine the comments there will be following that day.  Granted, they have a son together (born just Tuesday!) so the circumstances are quite different from mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel as though in the past year there has been all of this pressure on me to get a ring and have a wedding and all of that other wonderful stuff little girls dream of.  Honestly, I think that I am still far too young and immature.  I've only been able to buy alcohol for three months.  I still have (at least) a full year left of school.  I have no idea where I will be in two years from now, much less the rest of my life. Although we have been living together for two years and are probably as close to marriage as people can be without ceremonies and children, I see no need to make things "official".  I do see this boyfriend in the long-term future, but I don't think I need a ring to keep him there.  If he really is "the one", he will still be around sometime in the distant future when marriage is on my mind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-7896081576685435287?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/7896081576685435287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=7896081576685435287' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/7896081576685435287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/7896081576685435287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2008/02/marriage-etc.html' title='Marriage, etc.'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-3286259103069991989</id><published>2008-01-22T21:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T21:54:30.335-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Personality Test</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.personaldna.com/report.php?k=GsbdIBXbrQHXaSY-DM-AADAC-0f84"&gt; My personalDNA Report&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently this is me.  I think it is pretty accurate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-3286259103069991989?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/3286259103069991989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=3286259103069991989' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/3286259103069991989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/3286259103069991989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2008/01/personality-test.html' title='The Personality Test'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-3958904531701915282</id><published>2008-01-16T07:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T09:31:48.218-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Notice</title><content type='html'>Well, I finally did it. I put in my notice at the company where I have worked for nearly three years. I spent two years at the Oshkosh store, where I worked the last month of high school and the first two years of college. Then the company opened up a store in Appleton, so I transferred there. In the past few months, I have only been working one day a week for the sole purpose of keeping a benefit where the company will help me out with school. I finally decided it was no longer worth it. That one day a week was one day too many. So, after much deliberation, I gave it up. I could make much more money taking up another day at my main job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I should clarify that technically I put in for a "leave of absence", citing my next semester at school as my reason. I wanted to keep my options open, in case I feel like working there over the summer for some extra cash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't miss the job at all, but there are a few people that I will miss a lot. I will also miss my boss. I know that sounds rather odd, as most people hate their bosses, but I actually liked mine. She was great about my very particular scheduling needs and giving me the jobs I hated least. If I decide to come back in the summer, I hope they are still there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a great almost three years, but it was definately time to move on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-3958904531701915282?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/3958904531701915282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=3958904531701915282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/3958904531701915282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/3958904531701915282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2008/01/notice.html' title='The Notice'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-4879716159546279730</id><published>2008-01-11T07:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T08:09:33.663-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The New Identification</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.cnn.com/2008/US/01/11/real.id.ap/index.html"&gt;http://www.cnn.com/2008/US/01/11/real.id.ap/index.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This terrifies me.  In short, the government is planning to create a new federal ID card as a way to help prevent terrorism.  To me, this just looks like another way to invade everyone's personal privacy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't believe that doing background checks and creating one official form of identification is going to do much to prevent terrorism.  I'm sure there are numerous people who are legal citizens with clean backgrounds that will pass all of the checkpoints, yet still be terrorists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, the thing that terrifies me the most about these identifications is the idea of a central database.  It starts out as just things such as my birthdate, criminal/driving records, address, etc.  That's not so scary.  Police have access to that any time they run my license plates or current drivers license.  But, I really don't think that will be the end of it. I believe that in time, this new identification card will collect data on my habits.  If I buy something or go somewhere that I will need an ID, such as entering a bar, buying alcohol, tobacco, even taking some exams, this could be entered in a permanent record, so to speak.  I don't want the government knowing when I buy alcohol and what kind it is.  I don't want people knowing when I go to specific bars. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This ID is just another step in our march towards a total surveilance society.  I personally believe that I should not have to give up my civil liberties and right to privacy in another half-assed scheme to "prevent terrorism".  I believe Benjamin Franklin said it best when he said, "&lt;strong&gt;Those who would give up Essential Liberty to purchase a little Temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety&lt;/strong&gt;. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only our current administration could understand that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-4879716159546279730?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/4879716159546279730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=4879716159546279730' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/4879716159546279730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/4879716159546279730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2008/01/new-identification.html' title='The New Identification'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-8199495058282861546</id><published>2007-12-26T19:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-26T20:20:48.875-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Holiday Season</title><content type='html'>I'm finally back, after an incredibly long hiatus. In these past few weeks, I have been insanely busy. I finished out the semester with a strong 3.4 GPA, which is my best ever, I might add =). I also finished the Christmas season with my sanity intact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worst part about the season is the shopping, by far. There is nothing worse than trying to shove your way through mobs of soccer moms trying to get their children the best of everything, only to wait in endless lines. And after repeating this over and over and over, it's time to attempt to leave. Instead of leaving, there are only long lines of traffic that go on for infinity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when all of that stupidity is over, it's time for the fun parts. I had more than my share of family, friends and booze this week. It gets frustrating to run from here to there to everywhere else, but I'm glad I have so many people in my life to spend the holidays with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My holiday visiting fun began last Saturday, when I celebrated the holiday with all of my relatives from my dad's side of the family. I saw my cousin's new baby for the first time and remembered that I'm really not too fond of children, especially babies. However, I did get to see one of the few children I actually like -- my only other cousin under the age of ten . He's hillarious. The kid never stops, and he gives more hugs than anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that celebration, I went over to an aunt and uncle's house for some home-made egg nog and wine. As usual, it was a fun time. These relatives are always good for an interesting conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas Eve started with hectic packing after my best friend called and told me she was on her way up from Milwaukee, and that we should get together for lunch/coffee. I had a half-hour to gather all of my presents, clothes and supplies for the next few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't seen this friend since my birthday, so it was quite the pleasant call. We met up at a local 24-hour breakfast place in Oshkosh and exchanged gifts. Part of my present was a hillarious reminder of my birthday-- a crisp, new, un-torn Milwaukee phonebook. How it remained untouched from my birthday is far beyond me. But we both had a great laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was off to burn a few hours before I would eventually end up the night at my parents'. I stopped by to visit assorted relatives in Oshkosh that I had yet to visit. I lost track of time visiting my Aunt Kathy and cousin Robin, and stayed there for much longer than I had intended. My parents called quite a few times telling me they wanted me over there ASAP, as my sisters were getting anxious to open presents and they wouldn't be allowed until I showed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As is tradition on Christmas Eve, my sisters and I exchanged our gifts with each other and opened one from our parents. I opened the one and only thing I wanted this year - season 9 of Seinfeld. I spent the rest of the night watching dvd's, drinking beer and wine, and engaging in general merriment with my immediate family. A few hours later, I fell asleep on Katelyn's bed while watching Full House and drinking too much wine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katelyn woke me up at 7:45 a.m. to open the rest of our gifts. My one large gift from my parents was to end Andrew's and my month-long dishes strike. They bought me a counter-top dishwasher. We won't have to eat off of paper plates any longer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was off to the in-laws for more eating, drinking and being merry.   Luckily, my in-laws are all pretty cool, so it was a pleasant experience. I don't think I have ever had as much to drink without being drunk as I did those two days. I spent the night in Ripon with the in-laws and returned to work and business as usual this evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My holidays were far from unusual, but it was a good time. As much as I love all of themerriment, it is nice to be in my own apartment, by myself, with absolutely nothing to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-8199495058282861546?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/8199495058282861546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=8199495058282861546' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/8199495058282861546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/8199495058282861546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2007/12/holiday-season.html' title='The Holiday Season'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-5674897345303889933</id><published>2007-12-07T10:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-07T10:39:49.234-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The next week or so</title><content type='html'>I haven't had much time to update, so my apologies to the (maybe) three people that read this.  It is the final two weeks of the semester, so I have been rediculously busy.  My grades are awesome this semester, and I'd like to keep it that way.  I'll write more once my last final has been finished and my last project turned in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-5674897345303889933?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/5674897345303889933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=5674897345303889933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/5674897345303889933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/5674897345303889933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2007/12/next-week-or-so.html' title='The next week or so'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-3865179177690650341</id><published>2007-12-01T21:19:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-01T22:01:07.174-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Winter Storm Warning</title><content type='html'>Today marked the first big snow storm of the season. The entire state, and most of the surrounding states were under a winter storm warning all day. I was lucky enough to be required to drive through most of it. My job is such that requires me to drive for most of my shift. I must drive in rain or shine, snow or not snow. We only stop on majour holidays. It is kind of like being a post(wo)man, except we must drive on Sundays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.elcheaporides.com/cars/big/20060929123449.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.elcheaporides.com/cars/big/20060929123449.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have the pleasure of driving the car pictured here, except mine is purple and therefore better. One can only imagine the adventure I had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could not stop for a second without nearly getting stuck. At every stop sign, red light and delivery, I had to shove my car back and forth before I would move again. It was a headache, literally and figuratively.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After my intital frustration, it became kind of fun to drive on the deserted roads. Rarely would there be another car in sight, so it didn't matter where I was on the road. I felt free to stop directly in the road, mostly because I did not want to get stuck in a stranger's driveway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, the highlight of my night was when the snow began to taper off and the work of the plows started to truly show. This was also when people stopped wanting our products delivered to their homes, which meant that I could go home. It was wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes me sad to know that this is the first of many snow storms in the next 6 months. This IS Wisconsin, so that is not an exaggeration. I'm sure there have been many years where there has been snow on the ground on 1 May. I should be used to it by now. I have lived in Wisconsin all of my life, but still I cry a little on the first snow storm of every year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no denying that it is officially winter. There is snow on the ground and it is December. I can't lie to myself anymore. The next few months will be rough. I hope this ends sooner than later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what the local newspaper had to report on this event:&lt;a href="http://http//postcrescent.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20071201/APC0101/712010455"&gt;http://http://postcrescent.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20071201/APC0101/712010455&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-3865179177690650341?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/3865179177690650341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=3865179177690650341' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/3865179177690650341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/3865179177690650341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2007/12/winter-storm-warning.html' title='The Winter Storm Warning'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-5008306973223533987</id><published>2007-11-27T11:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T13:35:43.391-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Phonebooks</title><content type='html'>Over the weekend, I celebrated my 21st birthday. I spent the evening in the city with my best friend and a few of her friends. It was a great time. Instead of going from bar to bar, we spent our night at an Irish pub. There was even a band playing live music. As fun as that was, the real shenanigans didn't begin until after bar close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As anyone who has been with Alicia and I after we have been drinking, we pretty much turn into Beavis and Butthead. It is always "dumbest idea wins", and it is always the best time. We were walking back to her apartment, and in the enterance, there was a pile of phonebooks. We decided that we needed to take them all. It took us at least three trips to haul them all up to the third floor. It didn't help that we had difficulties walking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the apartment, we listened to all of the songs we loved years ago, and talked about people we were friends with in those times. I, of course, needed to call and text these people and tell them that I missed them. We designated the song "How Soon is Now" by the Smiths, as the theme song for the evening. It had nothing to do with anything we did, but it is one of my favourite songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point in the evening, we decided that we needed confetti. So, we ripped pages from the phonebooks and threw them in the air. This is how things looked the next morning:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/R0xw17cv2eI/AAAAAAAAAA4/uB5_LWpGC5Y/s1600-h/aftermath.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137605346716539362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/R0xw17cv2eI/AAAAAAAAAA4/uB5_LWpGC5Y/s400/aftermath.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why we decided this was a great idea, I do not know. But it was a great time. In most of the pictures taken that evening, we were on the floor. standing was far too great of a task for us. I realise that this is one of those instances where you had to be there to really appreciate the rediculinity of the night, but it was a wonderful time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surprisingly, the mess wasn't too terrible to clean up. It was clean before we all went out to brunch at Beans and Barley. Everyone else had breakfast, but I had a gigantic burrito. What I really craved was the food that would clog my arteries and give me a heart attack. We went to the wrong restaurant for that. The burrito was among the most unhealthy things on the menu. It was delicious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing Alicia and I do ever makes much sense, especially after drinks, but it is always the best time ever. I don't think I could have had a more fun birthday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-5008306973223533987?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/5008306973223533987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=5008306973223533987' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/5008306973223533987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/5008306973223533987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2007/11/phonebooks.html' title='The Phonebooks'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/R0xw17cv2eI/AAAAAAAAAA4/uB5_LWpGC5Y/s72-c/aftermath.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-6653503353068932987</id><published>2007-11-23T12:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T12:29:23.867-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No more Black Fridays</title><content type='html'>I hate Black Friday.  This year, I waited outside of Best Buy in the freezing cold for over ten hours with Andrew, Thompson and Thompson's little cousin.  It may have been the dumbest thing that I have ever done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were laptops normally priced at $1100 for $400.  Our computer is in the process of taking a gigantic shit, so Andrew and I were there for a new computer.  Thompson's cousin wanted an X-Box, and Thompson didn't know what he wanted.  None of us had any idea just how bad it would be to camp outside of a store overnight in the cold Wisconsin winter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got there at 6:30 p.m. There were already a bunch of people in front of us.  We had to wait until 3 a.m. for the employees to hand out reservation tickets for certain limited sales, like our computers.  That wait was one of the longest of my life.  I used to think insanely long car rides, like the one to Kansas City, were bad, but at least a car is warm and I could sleep if I wanted to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to be prepared for the cold.  I put on six shirts, a sweatshirt, two winter jackets, four pairs of pants, three pairs of socks, two pairs of gloves, a scarf and a hat.  That wasn't good enough.  I was still frozen after spending the night outside. We had thick, heavy blankets, but they were basically useless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After seemingly endless waiting, 3 a.m. finally came.  The laptop reservation tickets didn't even get anywhere near us.  A bunch of fat, smelly, useless assholes at the front took them all, in addition to one of every other computer that was on reserve.  Had they allowed more than one per person, I'll bet they would have taken them all.  I can't imagine how much that much have cost, which raised the question of how they got the money to pay for it.  These people didn't look rich by any means. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They ended up in front of us in the endless line in the store.  I could hear them talking about how they got there at 10:30 a.m. on Thanksgiving day.  Who does that?  I thought getting there at 6:30 was really bad. There was another laptop on reservation that was almost as cool as the one that we originally wanted. We ended up getting those, so I have a new computer.  Yay!  That's my birthday and Christmas present to myself for this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doors opened at 5. That was another terrible wait.  As soon as the doors opened, it was actually as large of a mob scene that I had envisioned.  There were no fights or stampedes.  The line inside was also endless, but at least it was warm.  We finally left the store at about 6 a.m. I was never so glad to be home and sleep in my soft bed under warm blankets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although I got something pretty cool, I don't think that I will ever do the Black Friday shopping thing again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-6653503353068932987?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/6653503353068932987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=6653503353068932987' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/6653503353068932987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/6653503353068932987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2007/11/no-more-black-fridays.html' title='No more Black Fridays'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-2251738512548499406</id><published>2007-11-21T23:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-21T23:23:23.482-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kansas City and other nouns I dislike</title><content type='html'>So, the trip to Kansas City was quite uneventful.  It was nice to not have to go to school and work and all that other fun stuff, but I wish the city would have been more exciting.  The highlight of the trip was all of the food that I ate, but I could have done that here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Andrew and Amanda were at their concert, Thompson and I drove around for an hour or two looking for a mall, movie theatre, or something else to pass the time.  Our search proved fruitless, so we went back to the hotel to watch crappy cable sitcoms and take naps.  The pattern of looking for something, finding nothing and hanging out at the hotel pretty much described our time in KC. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was the day that A-town saw it's first snow.  It wasn't much snow, but it was enough to make the roads slippery and me depressed.  The only time snow is appropriate is for the few days surrounding Christmas.  Other than that, I hate it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's official that winter is here.  Yuck.  The holidays are nice, but after January 2nd, it is time for the snow to melt and the temperatures to warm up.  Sadly, this is Wisconsin, so there is no snow-free warm weather till about June.  After I graduate, I'm moving somewhere warm.  I don't care if I don't have a white Christmas.  I can't deal with this winter business.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-2251738512548499406?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/2251738512548499406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=2251738512548499406' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/2251738512548499406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/2251738512548499406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2007/11/kansas-city-and-other-nouns-i-dislike.html' title='Kansas City and other nouns I dislike'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-2854375706900710352</id><published>2007-11-12T10:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T10:08:00.093-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Portraits are not my strong point</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/RziVQQqNYbI/AAAAAAAAAAk/wrNKZjjnCyE/s1600-h/Andrew.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/RziVQQqNYbI/AAAAAAAAAAk/wrNKZjjnCyE/s400/Andrew.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132015881971130802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is another photo class picture I'm particularily proud of.  We had to take a portrait of someone.  The assignment was due the next day and I was getting quite desperate.  I made Andrew play guitar while I took pictures.  Sometimes desperation makes for great photos.  I hate taking portraits.  They always seem so posed and fake.  I would much rather sneak up on someone and take a picture when they aren't paying attention.  I ended up with a B for a grade, but I'm pretty sure that was because my photo-editing skills were lacking.  This version is a re-edited one.  I'm sure if I turned it in again, my grade would improve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love photography.  I'm excited to see what photos my Kansas City trip will create.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-2854375706900710352?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/2854375706900710352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=2854375706900710352' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/2854375706900710352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/2854375706900710352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2007/11/this-is-another-photo-class-picture-im.html' title='Portraits are not my strong point'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/RziVQQqNYbI/AAAAAAAAAAk/wrNKZjjnCyE/s72-c/Andrew.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-5915702352577476503</id><published>2007-11-12T09:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T09:54:02.181-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No mas escuela!</title><content type='html'>I really should have been an English major.  The subject comes so easily to me.  I can get an A with minimal effort.  Oh well.  Instead, I chose the subjects that I thought I enjoyed: journalism and political science.  I've grown to detest both of them now.  Then again, everyone I've ever spoken to who has graduated from college says that there's something wrong if I don't hate my major by the time I'm a junior/senior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also reached the conclusion that college is nothing but a 4+ year anxiety attack.  I get panicked so easily when it comes to tests, papers, etc.  I never used to be like that.  As long as I got at least a B, I was fine.  Now, I feel like I need to get that A, and if I don't, I might as well drop out of school, because I've basically failed.  I have only a year and a half until I (hopefully!) graduate, and I'm really starting to panic.  I feel as though my grades aren't good enough, and I'll never be able to bring them up, regardless of how hard I try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's also the question of what I'm going to do after I graduate.  Honestly, I really don't know.  I don't really want to work for a newspaper, there isn't much to do with political science, unless I go to grad school.  The idea of the future scares the hell out of me.  I like to joke that I will just continue to go to school for the rest of my life, just because I don't know what else to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also think that I don't like writing as much as I thought that I did.  I would much rather take pictures to tell the story of whatever I feel like saying or doing.  When it comes to the things that happen in my life, it's easier to show someone than it is to tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I leave for Kansas City.  I'm not really sure what I'm going to do there, but it will be nice to take a break from the insanity that is my life.  I'm going with Andrew, his sister Amanda, and Thompson. The purpose of the trip is for a country music concert, but I'm not going to that. It should be interesting.  I'll post photos when I get back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-5915702352577476503?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/5915702352577476503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=5915702352577476503' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/5915702352577476503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/5915702352577476503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2007/11/no-mas-escuela.html' title='No mas escuela!'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-3445353619288936706</id><published>2007-10-31T09:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-31T09:45:18.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Action, distraction</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This semester, I'm taking a photo class.  The class itself is a lot harder than I thought it would be, but I'm learning a lot.  I feel my photography has improved immensely over the course of this class.  I love knowing how to manipulate my camera to take really awesome and different pictures.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The assignment: Action and shutter speed.&lt;br /&gt;What I had to do was use a slow shutter speed to show motion happening and a fast shutter speed to stop action.  I thought the best place for this &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;would be at a playground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The slow shutter speed was really difficult.  Thankfully my subject, my wonderful sister Katelyn, shares my love of photography so we could put our heads together and come up with something great.  My original idea was to take a picture of her sliding down a slide.  However, that didn't work out quite as great as it seemed in my head.  After trying a few different things, she came up with the idea of doing something with her running.  I made her run over that bridge about a thousand times.  I think she was happy to be fin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ished after that one.&lt;br /&gt;This is what we came up with:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/RyivDMj82iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/mZJwuYLgPM8/s1600-h/Slow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/RyivDMj82iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/mZJwuYLgPM8/s320/Slow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127540645207792162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It also looked pretty neat in colour, but for the class, we're learning how to use edit in black and white, so this is what I turned in.  The grade: A-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the stop-motion photo, the concept was easy, but getting the right shot was hard.  I made her jump off that swing 923843470329 times, and I think she was starting to get annoyed with me.  I was also getting annoyed with the crowd of children that were gathered around asking, "What are you doing?"  I really hate children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/RyiwSMj82jI/AAAAAAAAAAU/0WcH00WwGGA/s1600-h/Fast+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/RyiwSMj82jI/AAAAAAAAAAU/0WcH00WwGGA/s320/Fast+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127542002417457714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to lie on the ground to get that shot.  I really like this one, except for the lighting.  It made my sister into a dark blob.  But, that lighting is the sun, and there was nothing that I could do about it.  Oh well.  The grade: B+&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-3445353619288936706?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/3445353619288936706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=3445353619288936706' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/3445353619288936706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/3445353619288936706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2007/10/action-distraction.html' title='Action, distraction'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/RyivDMj82iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/mZJwuYLgPM8/s72-c/Slow.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7624966845258872455.post-2750026897574505855</id><published>2006-11-28T11:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-10-31T09:56:33.301-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amateur Journalism</title><content type='html'>I attempted to write something awhile ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://http://advancetitan.com/story.aspx?s=5397"&gt;http://advancetitan.com/story.aspx?s=5397&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://advancetitan.com/story.asp?issue=11311&amp;amp;story=5397"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7624966845258872455-2750026897574505855?l=lemonpez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/feeds/2750026897574505855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7624966845258872455&amp;postID=2750026897574505855' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/2750026897574505855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7624966845258872455/posts/default/2750026897574505855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lemonpez.blogspot.com/2006/11/amateur-journalism.html' title='Amateur Journalism'/><author><name>Shayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09636008472301879416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c6crC_QOiFU/ShMe30DSMnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cw1bkwDIQRg/S220/paparazzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
