Saturday, September 30, 2006

and so it begins

In about 4 more hours I will leave for the airport and take off for Albuquerque, NM. The 3 weeks of my life I have been dreading for nine months will finally start this afternoon. This week I will be off at the National Police Shooting Championships. My girlfriends all seem to think this means I will be surrounded by hot cops for a week. It actually means I will be selling tee shirts and talking guns while shouting to be heard over 25 guns unloading 10 rounds at a time every five minutes. It also means I will be taking a lot of Advil and wearing ear plugs all week. I'm sure I'll take a few pictures and share in the joy of the moment when I get a chance.

Everyone be good to Rae while I am gone. We don't want her to get lonely or bored or forget to go to work because she was reading all night!

Thursday, September 28, 2006

Pure Unadulterated Happiness





Gas prices in Fredericksburg, VA last night. Less than $2/gallon. Halle-freakin-lujah!

Monday, September 25, 2006

Leaving no questions...

For a while now I have been wondering if possibly I have a wheat or gluten allergy. I had heard of some of the allergic reactions to it, and, well, the shoe fit. I am deathly allergic to corn (including popcorn, cornbread, etc), so the idea that I would also be allergic to another natural product wasn't too far off in my mind. But my diet is rather naturally devoid of wheat products since I tend to be carb adverse and avoid breads for the most part. So it has always been a bit of a mystery for me to figure out.
Well, on Sunday that mystery was solved for me.
My ward (translation for the non-Mormons- my local church congregation) is really getting into home preparedness and food storage. This is actually the understatement of the century. My ward is absolutely obsessed with food storage. (Additional non-Mormon translation- Mormons try to have a 2 year supply of foods, often in the form of grains, stored in their homes in order to prepare for emergencies.) And this past Sunday they passed out bags, and by bags I mean brown paper bags with a plastic ziplock baggy, of wheat. About a hundred bags of these bags of raw wheat were passed around the room, a small enclosed room with little ventilation. I knew I'd never use the wheat and just passed the bags right along to the folks sitting next to me. I probably only handled 4 or 5 bags. For a few minutes there was a bit of commotion as a few dozen people inspected their bags, opening them, smelling them, etc. And suddenly I couldn't breathe. My throat was tightening up, I was sneezing and coughing, and I could feel my eyes swelling up. I put my head between my knees really fast (a feat in and of itself considering how tightly packed together the chairs are in that room), and tried to breathe. The lack of air getting to my lungs started to freak me out. My EMT skills only kicking in enough to remind me that I was on the verge of anaphylactic shock. So I quickly ran out of the room and went outside to the fresh air. By the time I made it outside I realized I was breaking out in hives. A few minutes to calm down and talk to a friend who had intercepted me outside, and I went home.
A big dose of Benadryl, a hit off the inhaler, and a 3 hour dead solid nap later, all symptoms disappeared.
Mystery solved: I am most definitely allergic to wheat.

Saturday, September 23, 2006

It didn't salvage the weekend

Before I go anywhere with this post, I have to thank Boo, Rae and Kim for being absolute lifesavers last night. Girls, you rock! I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I'd be nothing without my amazing girlfriends!

It's no secret that I have dabbled (okay maybe not dabbled but dove in head first) in online dating. A few months back I met a guy online who was slightly interesting. We im'ed a few times, and then, like most online guys, he disappeared. No big deal. Much to my surprise he surfaced again last week. In fact, we was the reason for the previous post about guys who call too much. Originally I had fun plans for this weekend that included a spontaneous trip to visit my sister in Utah for her birthday. But when that fell apart, I didn't mind the chance to salvage the weekend with a date when this guy asked. He may call too much, but hey, you can't fault a guy for trying to show he's interested, right? Especially when some guys just can't ever send you a clear enough signal.

Ugh, I wish I wasn't so freaking nice!

First, he showed up 3 hours late. And although our plans had been for dinner and a movie, and he had mentioned a few dozen times wanting to cuddle as well, he wasn't hungry when he got there. Well, I had been waiting for 3 hours and was absolutely starving. One look at him, and five minutes in his presence, and I knew I was going to need to call in back up. He had been fine on the phone. He may call a lot, but the conversations were never bad. Through the magic of girlfriends it was only a few minutes before we found ourselves joining Rae, Boo and Kim for dinner.

Something fun happened next. We walked into the restaurant and unexpectedly ran into my cousin Tami and her family out for her birthday dinner. I haven't seen her 1 year old, Joey, (also out for his first birthday dinner), since last Thanksgiving, so I was excited to run into them. This was a completely unplanned run-in. Later on, the Date would say he could just "tell" I had planned it so that my family could check him out. Oh ugh. So not the case. I love Tami, but trust me, I don't rig meetings like that. I flat out say, "Pick me up at my sister's so she can check you out first." Or, "We're going on a double date with Juli and Bry, even though they live 1,000 miles away, so I can get a second opinion on you." And if you think I'm making that up, Juli and Natalie will vouch for me.

So then there's dinner... I didn't know this was possible. But there are people out there that can actually not make me laugh. I mean, really! I laugh at everything! I think everything is hilarious. It takes almost no talent to crack me up. If you know me, ask yourself if I have ever not described someone as, "the funniest person ever." But this guy was a piece of work! I didn't laugh. He's just not funny. But oh was he trying! He got up and went to the men's room, and (I do love her for this) Kim just blurts out, "He is really not funny, is he?"

And then there's the physical stuff. He had made it clear that he was hoping I'd be up for some affectionate contact. I'm not opposed to physical contact. In fact, like most people, I like it and enjoy it. I respect and appreciate that guys have to employ a few moves in order to instigate contact. But even when I was 16 my BS meter would go off when I saw a "move" coming. I'm more of a go with the flow kind of girl. Things should just naturally happen without a totally fake move getting played. But no, this guy's moves hadn't improved since he was 16 I think. (And then I think, "what if his moves were worse when he was 16???"") He tried the classic, "You have a magnetic personality," line, and then intentionally bumped right into me. Twice. And actually tried to slip his arm around me at the same time. Not only is this a bad move, and worse line, but he needed to work on the part where he doesn't trip the girl so she nearly hits the waitress while she's walking. And then there was the kicking under the table. Oy vey!

Everyone has their own rules for who pays on a date. I won't even bother mentioning that he didn't even try to offer to pay for my dinner, but then did later on offer to pay for half of the movie we got. (A whopping $1.50)

Unfortunately he's from out of town, and therefore I had volunteered to let him stay overnight. Note to self: you know better than this.

In spite of the fact that it was after 11 pm, and I had been up since 5, and he knew I was exhausted, he was rather pushy about wanting to watch a movie. Knowing that he was hoping this would lead to cuddling, I resisted, but caved, figuring I would be asleep in 5 minutes anyway. How bad was it? He wouldn't shut up. We start the movie, and he won't stop talking. After ten minutes I turned it off. He asked if he could show me his move for putting his arm around a girl. I actually said no, but he tried it anyway. And (just like he had planned) he hit me square in the eye. Great, so now I'm exhausted, my eye hurts, and this guy has a death grip on me that doesn't feel like cuddling at all.

If you are wondering why I didn't just tell him I wasn't interested, I did. Multiple times. The words, "I'm not feeling this," and "I'm just not digging you," came out several times. Blech.

I'm sitting there just sort of stuck. Now don't worry, he was too naive and innocent to do anything that would hurt me. He just couldn't figure out that I really wasn't crazy about him. He's spewing crap about how soft I am, and I'm literally pushing him off. So what can a girl do? Well, you know I'm pretty no-nonsense. I just stood up, practically dragging him along. He puts his arms around my waist in a very odd hug. And there I was with a guy sitting on the couch, his head now on my hip, arms around me, telling me I'm the softest and nicest girl he's ever met. Oh please. I was a rather rude human porcupine, and I know it! I took care of the situation, but it wasn't pretty. He asked if he could "walk me to my door." I told him no. He followed me anyway. Ugh. Needless to say, I slept with my bedroom door locked all night.

Without getting into too many more details, do you remember the "Friends"episode where Chandler breaks up with Janice, but she just won't accept it, so he tells her he's moving to Yemen? Well, let's just say the excuse I had to use to get out of subsequent dates and/or the next day came close to moving to Yemen. Oh, and if anyone asks, I've joined a ridge runners club.

I feel a break from men coming on. I'm reaching that point again where I can't trust my instincts. The guys that I believe in all end up leading me on. And sometimes it's as much my fault as their own. It doesn't matter much. The dating pool around here is about as dry as a bone. I really don't feel like having another date like that. And unfortunately, a lot of my dates do end up feeling like that. I think I'd just rather not date. I'm doing fine on my own. Who needs a man to mess that up?

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Go Nats!

Over the last several years when *everyone* kept talking about bringing major league baseball to DC I really couldn't have cared less. Big deal, who cares about baseball anyway? But when Mayor Williams did finally score us a team, I did a little excited over the idea of a home town team. But I still didn't care at all for baseball, so again, big deal! And then the Red Sox made it to the Series, and I worked for a guy who was more than just a little Sox fan. Therefore, I learned a LOT about the National Pasttime in a very short period of time (most of it on one business trip to California). So when the Nats finally came to DC, and suddenly everyone and their brother started scoring free tickets, I actually went to the games and even knew enough to follow along. But now... now that has all changed. Now I actually like baseball. I like Soriano, tolerate Lopez (he hasn't won me over yet), and LOVE Zimmerman. In fact, here's a picture of Zimmerman at bat. Oh, and I should mention that after Vidro's beautiful home run last night, I'm becoming a fan of him as well. So the Nats beat the Braves last night 9-2, and the new guy Perez had a decent showing.
But even after all my new Nats love, I still have a lot to learn about baseball. For instance, would someone please explain the difference in pants to me? Why do some guys have the traditional knicker length pants, and some guys have what appear to just be running pants on? And, for the love of Pete would someone please explain to me why on Saturday night when Soriano stole second he got a freaking standing ovation, and a big deal was made about taking the base off the field and giving it to him? But then last night when pinch hitter Lombard stole both second and third no one really cared? I'm so confused.
And much love and thanks for a fun evening to Steph for scoring the tickets, and Rae, Boo, and Hugh for the excellent company.

Monday, September 18, 2006

2 Types of Men and 2 Types of Analogies

There are 2 types of men in this world. The type that calls and the type that doesn't.
Why is it that a guy who asks for your number, you give him the big green light, and he has plenty of reasons to call, will never do it? But the guy that just "finds" your number and has very little to talk to you about, will call, in spite of your best efforts to dodge him?

Maybe the better analogy is a traffic light? There are guys who sit in traffic and will drive a distance to get to you, just to have their engine stall out at the green light across from your house. And then there are guys who drive over unannounced, run red lights to get there, and park in front of your house, in spite of the personalized "No Parking Zone" sign you put out just for them.

Guys, learn to read the signs, because eventually that green light is going to turn red. A girl can't sit in neutral and wait forever. She'll run out of gas before you know it.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Happy 29th Birthday to My Little Sisty Ugler

Happy 29th Birthday to Natalie, my lifelong partner in crime. You may have outgrown me years ago, be married, and have 3 children, but you'll always be my little sister who thinks breaking her gum into little pieces gives you more than me, and says, "callapitters and mazagines." (Dang it, now I can't say it right either.) I forgive you for moving to Utah, but only because I think your kids are cute. Now please be sensible and come home so we can go shopping.
Love, the Big Sisty Ugler

Not a beautiful sabbath morn

It is 10:30 on Sunday morning. I should have been at church 1.5 hours ago. But I woke up with a continuing stomach bug (we're on day 4) and a raging headache. I've managed to migrate from the bedroom to the living room, but definitely don't have the energy to make it back to my room. There is a bug outside of the window that is making some god awful high pitched noise. It's not a cricket. I have attempted to throw a sandal in the general direction of the piercing sound, but there is a glass table between here and there, and I'm feeling fairly weak. I think I better not throw the second shoe. But, heaven help me, that bug needs to die!

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Because some baby sisters are cooler than others!


My baby sister Steph, age 17 and a senior in high school, has been volunteering at her local fire department for about 6 months now. She just recently started Fire 1 and is following her big sister's steps well. (And her big sister is very proud and supportive.) This is evidence that even the "little girls" can lift a 165 lb man and do a dead man's carry! She rocks!
 Posted by Picasa

Today the Marines, Tomorrow the Air Force, and then on to the Army

One trade show down, 3 to go...

I've been at the Modern Day Marine Show this week in Quantico, VA. And just like the name implies, it is a trade show all about the Marines and things they may or may not want. Thankfully, we sell a product they want, and therefore, people like us at this show. The show was held in several gigantic tents in the middle of a particularly large field on a Marine base. This allows for more actual Marines to actually attend the show than would otherwise happen. (For instance, tomorrow we go to an Air Force event at a hotel, and in 3 weeks we attend the Army show, where only half the attendees will be actual soldiers or flyboys. Most attendees will be contractors and suits from downtown DC. The real soldiers will be working back at their bases.) Being around the actual clients makes for an interesting week. It's just depressing. These kids, and yes, I do mean kids, come up to you in their green camis, acting all big and tough, like they think they are some body and start talking guns. But they are just kids. Just 19 yr old boys fresh out of their stepdad's basement trying to be something in this world. They talk big and tough and crude, and all you really hear is, "I know little about this world, I will always be oppressed for the choices I have made, and my future is always going to suck." And that is when you look down and realize this kid pretending to be a man is wearing a wedding ring. Somewhere in some other state this kid has a wife who can't afford to live in the same town with him. Or worse, he's brought his child bride to the show with him, and you realize, she has even less of a future. She's five minutes out of high school, wearing too much eyeliner, and when she speaks, has the IQ of a rock. It doesn't take much to figure she's probably working at the Wal-Mart or waitressing to help support them. They move around too much for her to get a real job or an education. So for the rest of their young lives they will be poverty level and struggling. In a few months' time he'll get called up to Iraq and she'll move back to her mom's house, their young marriage tried and tested. Few of them will make it through this hard time, and he'll come home from the war a jaded and embittered young man. He'll get more crude and rough around the edges, add a tattoo to his growing collection, and eventually meet another girl, and the cycle will start all over again. And in 18 years from now the result of one of his marriages will come of age and enter the Marines, just like his daddy did.
Semper Fi

PS- That was only one side of the things I saw this week. The other disturbing sight was how many young pregnant Marines walked by. Girls trying to avoid Iraq by getting knocked up, or the ones who got sent home from Iraq after getting knocked up. Trust me, there's nothing quite like the sight of a 20 yr old girl, hair in a tight bun, in green fatigues with a six months pregnant belly protruding out. Maternity camo's, can you imagine?

Monday, September 11, 2006

Remembering

Has it really been five years already?

The night of Sept 10th I had worked at one of the two fire departments I was a volunteer fire fighter at. We had gone on a record number of calls that night, and had no sleep. I got off duty at 7 a.m. and went home to my parents' house in Fredericksburg, VA, where I was temporarily living. I ate breakfast, and realizing I was due back on duty in less than 12 hours at my other fire department, I opted to sleep on the couch, rather than my bed. My theory was naps are on couches, sleeping is for beds. I only had time for a nap. I turned on the morning talk shows, and around 8 am started to doze in and out. As a result, I had the TV on when Katie Couric first started explaining what was happening in New York.

I was still trying to make sense of what Katie was talking about when my dad called and told us something was happening. He was at work in DC. A ward member had stopped by to help my mother with a project, and the two of them had invaded my nap room. Soon all 3 of us were glued to the TV. Just before the second tower was hit I had laughed and said that someone was about to have the pants sued off of them. In my mind at that point it was some stupid mistake. I was still picturing just a small personal plane making a wrong turn over the Hudson. But then we watched as the second tower was hit and fell. And then the rumors began about the Pentagon. There was still confusion about whether or not the Pentagon was on fire or actually hit. The news channels just didn't know. But I did.

Somewhere in the confusion and disbelief I had thought to find my fire department pager. Just as the rumors started about the Pentagon, my pager had lit up like the Fourth of July. It was a message I had never seen before, "ALL HANDS REPORT TO STATIONS IMMEDIATELY. PLEASE CONTACT STATIONS DIRECTLY." Usually our pages said things like, "Difficulty Breathing, E9, A9-1" I had never seen so many words or a sentence on my pager before. For some reason, that hit me more than the news reports. It wasn't a bad daydream anymore. It was happening and I was being called in to the station. This was for real.

I got back up, changed my clothes back into my uniform, and for some reason grabbed a plate of brownies. I still don't remember why I took the brownies. But at the time it seemed very important.

I will never forget the drive to the station that day. I was a volunteer at the Arcola Pleasant Valley Fire Department in Arcola, VA. Arcola was a black dot on a state map just north of Dulles Airport. It normally took me 1.5 hours or longer to make the drive there from Fredericksburg. But when I got on 95N the highway was deserted. I couldn't see any other cars headed north. The southbound lanes were jammed though. I went about ten miles when a cop pulled me over and asked what I was doing. He saw my uniform and apologized for stopping me. He explained they were limiting the cars headed north to DC and NYC. He said he would make sure they let me on through ahead, and to not worry about speeding. I zoomed the rest of the way to the station, getting there in less than 45 mins.

Our quiet little country station looked like a wake. Everyone was there- faces we hadn't seen in ages. It felt like a family reunion with old friends and family, and more food around than I have ever seen in one place before. The entire community had turned out to support us that day, and would continue to do so for the next several weeks. We had food everywhere. And then the pizza man just showed up with a dozen or more pizzas and said they were for us. I never did find out who sent them to us. There was a lot of food, but no appetites that day.

We stayed glued to the TV just like everyone at home did. We were ready to go at a moment's notice, but were never called on. Our station was just a few miles from the backside of Dulles Airport. As everyone remembers, all air traffic stopped for several days. Living so close to a major airport you get used to the constant sounds of jets overhead. I remember sitting outside on the bumper of a truck that day and realizing how quiet the world was. A few hours later I was back outside again, just thinking about what had happened when I heard the first F-17 begin to circle Dulles. That was when it really began to hit me. The world really was at war and nothing would be the same ever again.

Our ambulance crew was eventually called on that day to go fill in for another station that had been called over to the Pentagon. I spent a great deal of that day watching our CAD system, following the location of a certain paramedic I had dated, realizing he was at the Pentagon. We weren't getting very clear reports on the safety of the fire fighters and paramedics, and I was sick to my stomach worrying about him.

I stayed on duty for several days after that. I volunteered for a crew that was to go help with the recovery and relief efforts at the WTC. However, I never got called up to go because so many people just went up on their own. I spent many hours debating whether or not I should just get in my car and go. Part of me will always regret that I didn't drive up to New York to help. But I will never forget the experiences I had the Saturday following 9/11, and for that I am glad I didn't go to NY.

My fire department in Fredericksburg went out in full force the following Saturday to do an impromptu "Fill the Boot" campaign. I stood on a hot Saturday on a busy street corner in traffic holding a boot, and cried like a baby over and over again. I will never forget watching cars stop traffic to hand me money. I will never forget that not one person honked their horn or yelled as traffic backed up for miles around us as we collected the money. I will always remember the woman who stopped two lanes of traffic so she could write me a check for $10,000 and stuff it in my boot. And then she stopped to hug me and cry in the road with me. And no one honked. No one yelled or complained. But several people clapped, not one of them knowing how much she had just donated. I ran up to several car windows where little kids leaned out and put all the pennies their little hands could hold into my boot, while their mothers and fathers said, "God Bless You." I would run back to the corner and dump out my boot because it would get too heavy to hold. In just six hours, ten fire fighters on 4 corners collected more than $300,000, of which we kept none. We sent it all to NYC and the Pentagon.

There are many memories of 9/11, and this is mine. I was a first responder that day, proud to serve my country. I wasn't called into action, but I was ready and willing to go.

Friday, September 08, 2006

The Battle for a Young Girl's Heart and the Title of Prince Charming

Once upon a time there was a young lady who had a little indecision problem. She never could make up her mind. Or rather, she could make up her mind, but then change it again very quickly for various reasons. But she was capable of making a decision. It was just sticking to it that she couldn't do. This made for a very complicated love life at times. She recently made a decision that lasted several whole days. For her this was rather ground-breaking. That never ever happens! Much to the delight of several friends, she thought she had seen the light and decided on just one boy. There had been another boy in the picture, but boy #1 outshone him, and she picked him. It was nothing against #2, for he was a very good choice as well. For several days she was happy with her choice. But then #2 turned on his guy radar and figured out she had started to stray away from his rather magnetic tractor beam. So he turned on the charm and confused her. To make matters worse, #1 chose this exact same time to disappear without a good warning or explanation. The girl is quite happy with her choice on #1. But it is very hard to hold on to light, in spite of how hard she tries. Magnets really can pull you in better than a moth to a flame, and other stupid cliches and analogies.

What should the girl do? Stick with her decision and stand strong? Or allow #2 to change her mind again? After all, it was only a few weeks ago that #2 was the #1, and #1 was nearly a #3. But then #1 figured out there was a #2 and fought his way to the top, securing the #1 position. Well, almost securing it. It's funny how guys react to competition, always wanting to be #1. She really wants #1 to stay in his place, but really, a girl shouldn't have to get short-changed in the attention department just because a guy gets distracted. After all, this is a fairy tale, right? A girl can dream!

Thursday, September 07, 2006

The Big 6

Last January I was working on the upcoming trade show calendar when I realized that 4 of my 5 most stressful events were going to all occur in a six week back to back period. So I have had the last 8 months to dread the next six weeks. And it has finally hit. I'm finally here getting ready for liftoff. There's still lots to do, and it will never really feel like I have completed everything. But I'm ready. Bring on the bizarre shipping mishaps, bring on the lost documentation, bring on the freak show gun nuts, and bring on the scary old men who want to tell me how to use a gun. Because, really, how much could a girl standing in a gun manufacturer's trade show booth really know about the product she's spent the last 8 months preparing to show?

Bring it on!

Monday, September 04, 2006

The Writing Life

The Writing Life


Stacer, Jules, Miss Hass and others living a life requiring *writing,* I thought you might enjoy this article. I relate to all sides!


**edited Monday evening**

Reading this article just hit home for me- from both the point of view of a writer and as someone who wants to be a writer. I especially like the opening paragraph, "People often ask writers how they became writers. It is an exceedingly difficult question to answer because when you actually start to explain how you got to where you are, the person who asked you is already bored. This is because what they really want to know is how they can become a writer; how they can avoid your mistakes and pitfalls and go straight to the glamorous, exciting, fulfilling life that they assume you lead."

There is never a succinct or simple answer to that question, "How did you become a writer?" It has now been 3 months since we stopped writing the column and over 2 years since we actually wrote the book. It has been so long now that I wonder if I can legitimately call myself a writer. I don't feel like one. I feel like a girl who got lucky one time, but lightning may not strike twice. For me the answer to "how did I become a writer" is actually pretty simple. I had the time. I've been writing stories, concocting plots, and inventing characters since I was about 5 years old I think. Three years old if you include my first set of imaginary friends. But I can really remember inventing my first story in my head on a day when I was creating an alternate reality to kindergarten. (Not that there was anything wrong with kindergarten, I just wanted to imagine a different plotline for it, that's all.) But I didn't become a "writer" until our book was published. (For those joining us a little late in the game, Julipalooza"
and I once wrote a fiction novel" together and managed to actually get it published.) And finding the time and energy and resources to write the novel required nearly a year of sheer boredom on my part, including a mindless job where stress wasn't involved, and Juli's daughters being so small they hadn't yet discovered computer games or how to talk. I'm pretty sure those sets of events will probably never repeat themselves. So I'm not so sure I'll ever be a writer again.
But I love writing. I loved creating characters and making a story for them. I couldn't believe it the first time I ever told Juli that I had to redo a chapter because I hadn't done right by the characters. I knew where I wanted the story to go, but the characters wouldn't let me go there. That was the moment I actually felt like a writer.
I'm still working on 2 other projects that I really love. I think there is a good chance I'll actually finish one of them by Christmas. But who knows? Maybe I'll just finish it for myself and never publish. There's nothing wrong with that!

Friday, September 01, 2006

Got Traffic?


Thursday night was one of those, "Why do I live in DC again?" traffic moments. Generally my commute home is about 45 minutes. However, on this special night it took me 45 minutes just to go 45 feet. Cause of the back up? 18 wheeler vs 5th wheel vs Geo Metro. 6 fire engines, 1 ambulance, and 1 air lift later, they ONLY had to block 8 lanes of traffic (2 directions) to clear the scene. Please note how the accident was in the southbound lanes (mine), but they also were kind enough to block the northbound lanes. I was a fire fighter, I'm sympathetic. But then they landed the bird in the southbound lanes! Whatever. The good news is I still made it to Bilbo Baggins (the restaurant) for dinner with my cousin on time. The bad news? It took me 1 hr, 45 minutes total to get the 22 miles from my office to the restaurant. (It should have only taken me 22 mins.) Posted by Picasa

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