Michael Landon Jr. - He ain't no Pa.

See this guy? Do you know who he is? Well he's Michael Landon Jr., and all I can say about him is that he ain't no Pa Ingalls. Why oh why do I detest him so? Well although he followed in his father's footsteps and started work behind a camera, he sure took this idea of "creative license" to a whole new level. A LOW level, I might add. Now while ML Sr. did veer off the original books by Laura Ingalls Wilder in order to keep the TV show going for all those years, his son ML Jr. had to go and RUIN the my absolute favorite Christian pioneer book series by "trying" to make them into TV movies.

The series in question is the "Love Comes Softly" series by Janette Oke... the amazing story of Marty, a pioneer woman who at the age of 17, finds out her new husband of 3 months is killed while they are on a wagon train west and is left abandoned and alone near a small town on the prairie. That same day a man from the town approaches her and asks her to marry him, a marriage of convenience, in order for her to take care of his little 2-year-old girl Missie who doesn't have a mother. If at the end of the harvest she wants to return east, he will pay for her passage home, but she must take his little girl with her. Oh did I mention she's 3 months pregnant? Anyway, the book series follows Marty's entire life and how her situation turns out. I HIGHLY recommend reading them.

So this Michael Landon Jr. character comes along and decides to make this a TV movie. BRILLIANT I think at first. Now everyone can see this wonderful story evolve on film. So my step teen (a huge fan of the series) and I wait with great anticipation at the first airing of this show. The story starts out right on target. Things are progressing smoothly... then, something odd happens. Although the people have the same names and roles as in the book, they start veering from the story line. poignant and touching stories are changed and "slicked" over in the most annoying Hollywood fashion, to the point where by the end of the story, everything is MUCH different than the book. The way the book tells the story is very realistic, and it would of been no problem to relay it to film, but somehow ML Jr. decided to opt for the trite and predictable changes that make the whole movie not even worth watching! Matter of fact the second TV movie in this same series is so far off the story due to all the unnecessary changes that the only thing that remains is the name of the characters.

I realize that no movie can really be just like the book, some things need to be taken out because of time, or whatever, but to completely change what was already a good story, baffles me. So I guess this is another reason for people to get back to reading. Oh and here's a tip for all you would-be producers out there. If you're going to make a TV movie about an amazing book, you might want to try reading it all the way through before you start filming.

Growing up with the Prairie

So take a good look at Pa Ingalls. Dreamy, ain't he? Good ol' Michael Landon. He's got those long flowing locks, a twinkle in his eye, and boy can he saw large planks of wood into smaller ones at the mill (ever notice that's all he did there?) like nobody's business. 

We weren't really allowed to watch much TV growing up, but nary a day passed that we all didn't sit down and catch the loving family antics of Laura, Ma, Pa, and the whole Ingalls gang. Where we truly believed that Ms. Beadle was the nicest teacher around, that Nellie and Willie were pure evil, and that Mrs. Olsen sure was a major bitty. We just couldn't seem to get enough of that quality family programming with the feel good thought provoking endings. I don't think a single episode of LHOTP went by without Pa shedding a tear or playing his fiddle, or Laura wearing that red gingham dress.

This of course led to my current uncanny ability to actually know which exact episode is airing at any moment, based on watching only the first 15 seconds of the show. I'll be like, "Oh this is the one where Nellie pretends to be crippled", or "Oh this is the one where the wild dogs attack the kids while Ma and Pa are away". My sister and I use to pass the time on long car trips trying to quiz each other on random LHOTP trivia. Like how did Ma show she was irritated in bed? (Eat popcorn angrily), or why did the girls have such nice blue dresses for church (Ma was suppose to make a dress for herself but selflessly ended up making the dresses for the girls instead), or why did Laura sell her horse Bunny? (To buy a new stove for Ma for Christmas). So go ahead, throw your hardest LHOTP trivia at me, just see if you can stump me. If you too are a Little House fanatic, trying stumping your friends, it's FUN. 

Oh, and a few holidays back, my football playing, stud of younger brother who would probably never admit to watching LHOTP as a kid shocked us all when we gathered around to play one of the quizzes on the newly released DVD's (yes of course I own them). To our amazement he got every single answer right. He sheepishly shrugged but we all knew that he too had grown up on the prairie, even if it was involuntary.

Isn't it Ironic??

So many people have a difference of opinion when it comes to the definition of ironic. Some people confuse coincidence or sarcasm with irony. There is of course the official dictionary definition of irony:

Irony: 

1. Expression in which the intended meaning of the words is the direct opposite of their usual sense. 

2. An event or result that is the opposite of what is expected.

My friend and I had a conversation once about Alanis Morissette's song "Isn't it Ironic". Basically all of her examples in that song are not true representations of the term irony. Rain on your wedding day, a traffic jam, when you're already late, a no smoking sign on your cigarette break, a man who's afraid to fly and his plane crashes. All of these are examples of bad luck and sometimes horrible coincidences, but are not truly ironic situations. After much discussion we DID conclude however, in a most delicious and hilarious way, that writing a song entitled "Isn't it Ironic" in which no content contained actual examples of irony, was INDEED ironic! So did Alanis know this all along? She must have - and still the debate lingers on. Here's a few links on all you'll ever need to know about the term Irony. Learn it well then lord it over others.

http://webweevers.com/irony.htm

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Irony

Happy St. Patrick's Day

So I just wanted to wish you a very Happy St. Patrick's Day. My family is of Irish descent, so I'm sure you spent it like most of us... You woke up, took a shower with your Irish Spring, dressed in shades of green, whistled an Irish tune on the way down stairs for a scrumptious bowl of Lucky Charms, frolicked around the nearest meadow in search of a four leaf clover, said "Top O' the mornin' to ya" in your best Irish accent to everyone you passed, followed a rainbow for a chance at some gold, listened to Enya, had potatoes and a delectable shamrock shake for lunch, had corn beef and cabbage for dinner, Made your way to a local Irish pub where you downed a pint of green Guinness and swapped limericks with the locals, walked drunkenly home upon which you swore you saw a leprechaun, kissed the blarney stone then dozed off in bed watching River dance.

Or you could do what my mom did and dye all of our food green for the day. Growing up we would always know it was St. Patty's Day by the menu. Often we would have green pancakes for breakfast or dinner, or green eggs, or green mash potatoes, or green mac and cheese for lunch. Even the milk was dyed green. I have happily carried this tradition on with my own little family and it's always a big hit. Anyway, just wanted to wish you a very happy St. Patrick's Day.

So what's up with Baking Soda?

So I got to thinking the other day about baking soda and it's seemingly endless magical list of things it can do. What IS this crazy white powder and could we as a species manage to live without it now that it's so apart of our everyday lives? If it had been discovered in only recent years the government probably would of swooped down, locked it up in Area 51 and dubbed it "classified" for sure. What other substance can do things like this:



As a toothpaste
As a deodorant
As an antacid
As a facial scrub
A household cleaner
A laundry detergent
A soother of bee stings and rashes
A neutralizer of battery acid in case of spills
A rust remover
An odor neutralizer
A jewelry cleaner
A drain unclogger
A flea killer


And these are just a few. All of this PLUS you can put it in your cakes and cookies to make them light and airy. It just boggles the mind. So the next time you grab for your trusty box of arm and hammer, don't just think you're using boring old Sodium Bicarbonate, but rather you hold in your hand the most wonderful miracle powder that the world has ever seen.

Glad I'm not one of dem "smart" kids

So there are book smarts, and street smarts - but the question is, which is better? Back in junior high we had this program for "gifted" students called QUEST. Most of the kids in there were major nerds or pseudo-intellectual snobs. One of my good friends happened to be lumped in with this snooty group and luckily for us she became our spy - and so it is to her we must thank for this story.

They were all taking a trip to the ocean (west coast) for a group problem solving weekend, with games and obstacle courses. The first night there they all went down to the beach for a BBQ and campfire. They watched the sun set and roasted marshmallows, then went back to their hotel for the night. They decided to get up very early the next morning to maybe catch a glimpse of the sunrise. So down they all trot to the beach with their blankets and beach towels (with their adult teachers) and sit to watch the sunrise over the ocean. Well it keeps getting lighter and lighter out and still no sun. Finally one of them turns around and sees the sun rising over Mt. Rainier... in the EAST. That's right folks, they were sitting on the SAME beach (facing west) where they had seen the sun vanish only 12 hours before, and they were waiting to see it come back up over the same skyline.

I would of paid BIG money to see the looks on their dumbfounded faces when they realized their blunder. How must those teachers have felt? Apparently they all swore an immediate oath never to reveal this story to anyone back at school. I just have to thank my good friend for spilling the beans to me shortly after, because for once, it felt really GOOD not being considered one of them "smart" kids.

There's a wasp in my Newton!

So it's probably a good idea that you don't know everything that's in the food you're eating. Like back in junior high when I learned how hotdogs were made and I stopped eating meat for a couple of years. Or maybe the fact that most food that is dyed red is actually made from a certain type of squashed bug. Well if it weren't for that darn Discovery Channel trying to "teach" us stuff, I never would have been swayed away from what once had been a delectable "fruit and cake" treat.

The now infamous show featured figs and the pollination of fig trees. A certain type of wasp would come down and lay their eggs in the figs, fertilizing the fig flower at the same time, and then the baby larvae would grow inside the fruit and use it as subsistence until they hatched. Now that show was on years ago, but I got it into my head that when you bite into a fig Newton, those little crunchy things I thought were fig seeds were really WASP eggs. I stopped eating them all together. Luckily in recent years those clever people at the Newton factory came up with new flavors like strawberry, raspberry, and apple, so we could potentially be back in the fruit and cake business someday soon.

So flash forward to when I meet my husband, who happens to love love love his Newtons and it is then I remember the wasp egg factor. Of course no one really wants to believe me, so I jump on my trusty internet research ban wagon to search out the truth. Guess what? I'm RIGHT! Sort of. Each fig plant needs it's own special wasp to pollinate it. The female wasp squeezes into the fruit, lays her eggs, loses her wings in the process, fertilized the fig, then dies IN the fig. Then the wasp larvae grow eating off the fig and the wingless males are born and mate with the females who do have wings. The males die (in the fig) and the females fly off with their home fig pollen stuck to themselves to go find another fig to pollinate and start the whole process over. Those crunchy little pods (or nullets/galls) are formed by wasp pollination. So the wasp larvae eat off the fig to survive and in turn, the fig digests the dead wasps to produce the energy to grow into figs. The female wasp and half her offspring give their lives so you can enjoy a fresh Newton snack cake. Mmmm Tasty. Now don't say I never taught you nothin'...

Web links for wasp-fig relations below:
http://waynesword.palomar.edu/pljune99.htm

http://waynesword.palomar.edu/ww0501.htm#newton

http://waynesword.palomar.edu/pldec97.htm

Random Facts About Me

30 Interesting Facts about me:
So you think you might want to get to know me better? I thought I'd share some of the more interesting things about me:

1. I can name the premise of any Little House episode by watching the first few frames
2. I analyze handwriting as a hobby
3. I am afraid of anything in a mask. This includes, clowns, mimes, rapists, and nutcrackers
4. I love love love roller coasters but am terrified of Ferris wheels
5. I read pretty fast and love books in general - often reading them in one day
6. I always smell my food before I take the first bite
7. I can play a song on the piano after hearing it basically once (not classical though)
8. Two things I cannot tolerate is hair in food or mold. I gag.
9. After having my first margarita, I stole a mini American flag from the main street in my town
10. I have named all my cars, and most of my plants
11. I love disco balls, but not dancing
12. I once owned supernatural fish. They were suppose to live for 6 months, but lived for almost 5 years.
13. I look behind every shower curtain before going to the bathroom thanks to my father, who use to hide behind them and jump out and scare us.
14. I get most of my Christmas shopping done by November
15. My sister and I have a made up language called the Jong e nong nong language
16. I think teenage boys smell like BO and gym socks
17. I have very strange and funny dreams. Often with movie star cameos. Some famous people who have appeared in my dreams are: Drew Carry, Meg Ryan, Janet Jackson, John Goodman, and the Indigo girls to name a few
18. I once was a radio dj for a station that played "continuous soft favorites"
19. My siblings and I have an unspoken contest to see who can make our mom cry the most with the most sentimental mother's day card
20. I didn't see a rated 'R' movie until I was 19 years old. Didn't have my first drink till I was 22
21. I will run screaming from any bee
22. I love the smell of school bus fumes
23. I love the "Far Side", "Deep Thoughts", Conan O'Brien, and Steven Wright
24. I'm a re-gifter
25. I hate shaking hands with people
26. I compose lullabies for all of my siblings children and my own when they are born
27. When I was younger, all of my socks had to perfectly match my outfit. My sock drawer was a rainbow of colors
28. I refuse to wear name tags at any function
29. Our family mascot is a boxing nun puppet
30. My favorite birthday memory was my 27th. We were completely sober but in a span of a few minutes a large group of friends had reenacted the manger scene in front of a miniature Statue of Liberty on the beach at midnight, then square danced to no music while a Korean guy clapped the beat.

The Happiest Place on Earth?

So you're probably wondering what this picture is of? Well it's another one of those completely unplanned pictures that end up amusing me greatly. We were at Disneyland a few months back and were watching the big 50th anniversary fireworks show in front of Sleeping Beauty's castle. Everything was going just fine until my husband snapped this particular shot at the perfect shutter speed.

Not only does it look like we've just witnessed the largest atomic bomb in history, but Mickey and Walt himself are leading us into the heart of the apocalypse. It looks like our very last day on earth. I guess if you were going to be annihilated from all time and space, Disneyland would be better than most places. I just wonder if it would still be considered the "happiest" place on earth?

A Picture's worth 1000 words

So, take a really really good look at this picture. Go ahead. Really study it. This is a random picture I found in my husbands baby book. Why was it in the baby book nestled amongst the cute infant photos? I have no earthy idea. But once I started to look at it, I just couldn't STOP looking at it. It intrigues me. Some of the people in the photo are known, the man in the background arms a-kimbo is my husband's grandpa, the man smoking he thought was his dad but alas his dad is a non smoker. It almost caused a family scandal, but after some research we come to find out it's just an uncle -oh and his mom is the woman behind him with her arms crossed. Only trouble is, after much speculation, no one can remember when or WHY this picture happened, but more importantly, WHO in the heck was the gleeful, crazed looking woman with the gun??

What was she shooting at? Why does she look so happy? Why did she dress like that to go shoot guns in the wilderness? Did she escape from an asylum? Why is grandpa staring down the camera and not watching the action? I just can't stop staring at this picture. I stare at it until I start to laugh. I think someone could make up an entire movie plot from this one picture, it's just so rich with unanswered questions. They say a picture is worth 1000 words, but you'd have to at least double it to get your money's worth on this one. If you can't stop staring at this picture either and can come up with a clever caption or back story, feel free to share it with the rest of the class.

I name you "BATTLE SWAN"!

Seeing that I'm a little over 2 months away from having our second child, I've been on the baby name hunt. It's a lot trickier than you think. Some parents now a days have gone completely mad on trying to come up with a unique name for their baby. Alternate spellings, abuse of double letters, using too many "k's" and "y's" where there should only be "c's" and "i's", and even plain old making names up. If you want a good laugh check out this site that backs my theories. http://www.notwithoutmyhandbag.com/babynames/

While searching out a classy, feminine, not too popular name that also has a great meaning, I came across a few names that meant something so wacky I wondered why anyone in their right mind would consider naming their child that.

Asela (Spanish, Latin) "Donkey foal."
Bethany (Hebrew) "House of figs"
Blaise (Latin) "Lisp, stutter."
Claudia (Latin) "Lame."
Hagar (Hebrew) "Forsaken."
Jael (Hebrew) "Mountain goat."
Mallory (Old French) "Unlucky."
Mara (Hebrew) "Bitter."
Nira (Hebrew) "Plowed field."
Olinda (Greek) "Wild fig."
Rue (English) "Regret."
Silja (Scandinavian) "blind one."
Swanhild (Old German) "Battle swan."
Vega (Arabic) "Falling vulture."
Wava (Slavic) "Stranger."
Yumiko (Japanese) "Arrow child." 

If your parents are inspired to name you after a baby donkey as a newborn, you should probably spend the better part of your life with a bag over your head. Or why don't they just save you the trouble and just name you "Jenny"? Fig Newton fans can really get a double bang for their buck if they named their daughter Bethany Olinda, or 'House of Figs and Wild Figs'. That's fruit, FRUIT and cake. Consider the name Vega (Falling vulture) - heck if you're named after a dead and falling bird of prey I guess you've got no where to go but up? Or is that down?

But my favorite is Swanhild. I pictured a great army of Vikings, swords drawn and drooling, running at full speed into battle, and in front of them all is a beautiful bevy of white birds with long graceful necks... complete with little miniture Viking-horned hats. I see the other army crying and cowering in fear. The battle swans are HERE.

Minivans - A work of the Devil

The minivan. Elevated station wagon, suburban godsend, or glorified toaster? My distaste for the minivan started right from the beginning. I came from a big family with four kids, and when you have four kids, you need something BIG to lug them around in. Growing up we always had full sized vans. Vans with three rows of seats. A van where you could literally sit 9 feet behind the driver and them not being able to hear you over the 8-track due to the large distance. A van that held two parents, four kids, three friends, all their gear, and at least one dog. I guess I'm just a big van snob. Oh and our van was extra special, even "tripped out" for 1970's standards. It was butterscotch and white, with tinted windows, and sticker that said "keep on vanning" in the back window, and as a bonus came with two huge silver side pipes that got very HOT. Many a neighbor kid burnt the back of their legs getting out of our "hooptie van" as we so affectionately called it. Road scars, my dad proudly called them.

Then the minivan came along, and yuppie soccer moms everywhere rejoiced. Boxy and clumsy looking, low ceiling, and guaranteed to be going 5 mph under the speed limit in any given fast lane. They were apparently pre-wired with GPS tracking devices that refused to let them pass any Costco or Walmart parking lot. Conducting my own experiments one year, everyday on my way home from work I would keep track of how many minivans would turn into Costco or try to pass it. Almost religiously that left blinker would come on and into Costco they would turn, giving the illusion it was impossible for them to keep driving. Must buy in bulk. Must buy in bulk.

When I was a swingin' single, I was in the market for a new car. I researched the type of car I wanted (good commuting car with great gas mileage) and the chauvinist car dealer tried to steer me away from my car and into a minivan since at the ripe old age of 20 I looked like I was about to pop out two or more kids. I remember being so offended that I had done my homework but just because I was female I should be planning ahead for my destiny to own a minivan. I thought heck, even with two kids they'll still fit in my four door sedan. Right then and there I vowed I would never own a minivan of my own. My friends with kids scoffed. You just wait they said. Once you have a few kids you'll be begging for a minivan. Well I guess that remains to be seen. Baby #2 is on the way and I'm still happy with my cute four door commuter car. There are many family car options out there, I just know for me that it will never be a minivan.

I do have to give kudos to my good friend Jill, who although has succumbed to a minivan, has not fallen victim to the minivan "way". She has proceeded to paint biker flames all over it, and has an Ozzy Osborne key chain hanging from the rear view. Now that's going out with STYLE.

Dorothy Hamill - Public Hair Enemy #1

Long before the Wall-O-80's bangs, long before the mohawk, even before the sexy and shimmery mullet, there was another hair style that swept the nation... Literally. Call it the "Wedge".. call it the "Bob"... or call it by it's true name... the "Dorothy Hamill" cut. If you were a girl with long flowing locks anytime in the mid 70's, your days of beauty were numbered. After the shy and talented skater won the gold medal in 1976, a wave of crazed hair stylists sharpened their scissors and aimed for the heads of the youth of America. No longer would mom's across the nation be bothered with styling and braiding long flowing locks. No longer was tangle-free shampoo needed. Throw out your hair ribbons and bows... the "Wedge" was coming. Simply get out a bowl the exact shape of your head and trim away.

I too sadly became a victim of this fashion trend at the tender age of six or seven. 

A shot us four kids in about 1979.  Me (on the left, Kevin, Megan, and Ryan)

What followed was a life time of what I'd like to call "hair rebellion", or the act of growing my hair out long for the rest of my life. Sure, it took a LONG time to grow out the "wedge"... there was that short time in junior high when it had evolved into a horrific permed mullet, that first year of high school when I looked like a curly cocker spaniel with floppy ears, and then finally by the end of my junior year of I was back to long and flowy curly locks... I style I hold to this day. Sometimes I wonder if Ms. Hamill shouldn't be held accountable for her hair atrocities? If she had just sported a regular pony tail or nifty skaters bun none of this would of ever happened, but on the other hand, the style did end up going great with rainbow shirts, clogs and bell bottoms. How would YOU like to be the sole reason there are a ton a bad childhood photos in the world?? Hopefully she can live with the guilt... lol ;)

I must say... when I wrote this way back at the beginning of my blog seven years ago, I was mostly being sarcastic as I had come across an old pic with my trademark childhood wedge hairdo, which I had no say in.  After watching Dorothy Hamill on the most recent "Dancing with the Stars", she is such a nice person.  Like super nice and sweet.  Like she wouldn't hurt a fly and I might hurt her feelings if she ever read this.  Well if you are out there Dorothy Hamill I think you personally are awesome. Your trend-setting short hairstyle set the 1970's on fire like nothing else, right after everyone who got the memo to name their kid "Jennifer" in 1972. I think long hair and short hair lovers can put their differences aside and be friends.  :)

So Why WeShaboigen??

 Note: My blog used to be called "Weshaboigen"

So my sister asked... So why WeShaboigen, what's that from? So I thought I would share it with her and you. It has something to do with stale snacks, not the beautiful fresh snacks pictured here, but a plate of snacks two weeks old and twice frozen... But first, some background. I keep a white board on our fridge at home. Now while most people would keep a shopping list or a time efficient things to do list, I keep wacky and strange phrases that have been uttered by family members. When the white board gets full, I'll transfer them to a hard copy and start over. So at any given time a complete stranger could walk into the house and be totally baffled by the sayings on our fridge, which has the most hilarious collection of our favorite inside jokes.

So we work together, my hubby and me. We have a very frugal boss. She buys plastic flowers instead of real ones, and if the receipt doesn't say Walmart, you've payed too much. Well she's found a way to be frugal on snacks too. She goes to the local supermarket and collects the week old pastries, too old and decrepit to sell to the public and brings it to work where she promptly refreezes them and it is there they lie in wait for us. On snack day morning she proudly defrosts them and makes a beautiful display on a flowery plate and ceremoniously places them in our break room. After a few years of these most of us have learned to stay clear of the snack plate, but there always seems to be the newbie or just plain person that is too hungry, and slowly the stale snacks disappear over the course of the morning. When our boss comes back and sees the almost empty plate, I'm SURE it only reinforces her idea that stale snacks are a good thing.

So one day as everyone was standing around the snack plate, gazing at the obvious staleness I said out loud... "We should boycott". My hubby, walking by quickly at the time misheard me and said back... "WeShaboigen", what the heck is THAT? No, I said We should BOY COTT... the snacks I mean... "OK, WeShaboigen"! he says back... and a new white board phrase was born. We use it now anytime we want to make a statement that we are standing up for the little injustices of the world. So go ahead, say it... it just rolls off the tongue... WE SHABOIGEN. Oh, and always buy fresh snacks

That's Jenn... with two "N's".

There's a statistic floating around out there that says that 80% of American men have dated a Jennifer at one time or another in their life. There sure are a LOT of us out there. In school there were at least three in every class, so the only way to tell us apart was our last initial. I was Jenny F., a moniker that stuck with me until the ripe old age of 13, when I learned that "Jenny" was another name for a female donkey, or rather, jackass.

After that I decided a slight name change was in order. Of course one could opt for the formal given name of "Jennifer", but that tends to bring up all the times when you had done something bad, and your full name, including middle, would be strung together in the most horrible way and you KNEW you were in big trouble. So that leaves you the option of shortening your name to Jen or Jenn. Over the years and after meeting many Jenns and Jens, I've come to some common conclusions. In my opinion, the one 'n' Jen is sort of taking the lazy way out. Sure Jen will get you through in a pinch. You have all the necessary letters to form the sounds to make the name, but many one 'n' Jens are just that, one dimensional. Oh sure, they're a social breed, lots of friends, and tend to be sporty, popular, and especially gravitate towards cheer leading, however if you're looking for a little more substance and a lifetime of hilarity, try to find yourself a two 'n' Jenn. We're creative, clever, and loyal.

Many a time my theory has been put to the test when one of my guy friends starts dating a Jennifer. I ask... does she spell her name with one 'n' or two? When they say one 'n' I tell them to head for the hills. One 'n' Jens are notorious bad girlfriend material. My one friend Kyle scoffed at my theories and took his one 'n' Jen on a double date/vacation with his brother and fiance. Halfway through their vacation and trapped on an island paradise completely surrounded by water, the one 'n' Jen flipped out, went psycho, and ruined their whole vacation. So if you look around and find yourself in the presence of a two 'n' Jenn, consider yourself very lucky. Like a needle in a haystack, like a diamond in the rough... you've found a rare thing.

I'm new here

So, one of my good friends told me I should become a blogger, and I don't even know where to start. So here I am at the deep end of the pool without my flotation device... well unless you count my uncanny ability to become completely buoyant due to, I think, in fact to my larger than average breasts, which allow me to bob up and down in the water without the aid of hands or feet. It's quite the stupid human trick - but very impressive to the casual observer. So here's I am, sitting cross legged in the pool while others must get by the "old fashioned" way by "swimming". I hope you enjoy your stay here and just sit back and let the wackiness wash over you.

Testing link for pdf here