In Just 423 Days, You Too Can Read Anna Karenina!

Click here, follow the instructions, and you're on your way toward a minor in Russian Literature!

They will email you 423 installments of Anna Karenina.  I'm doing it, and now you can too!

Here's some info from audiobooksforall.com:


Anna Karenina has been described as the perfect Russian novel. Trapped in a loveless marriage, Anna Karenina is defenceless against the power of her passions once they are unleashed by the adoration of Count Vronsky. Having defied the rules of 19th-century Russian society, Anna is forced to pay a heavy price. Human nature, with all its failings, is the fabric of which this great and passionate work is composed.

Imitate the Statue

I am SO good at this game.

"Business Cards"

My friend Matt designed some information cards for me before my big trip so that I could share email/facebook/blog information with people I met.  When I was staying in Sydney Australia, the grandson of the couple hilariously taped TONS of my cards to his door.  I didn't even notice it until it was pointed out to me, but OH how we laughed.

Here's the little turd who did it.

The Fischers

And here is the big turd who put him up to it.

When Child Labor is OK

If it's 120 degrees with 100% humidity and that child's job is to sell ice cold beer, then I can get on board with child labor.  In fact, I'm in full support.

"One dolla one dolla one dalla lady lady lady lady lady one dolla"

"Kady Peed Her Pants"

From the annuls of the depths of my memory, this one comes flooding back every time I see a playground slide.  You know, the metal ones that you can't touch with your tongue in the winter?  My friends and I decided to fill the bottom of the slide with sand, and then slide down to the bottom and POOSH! sand goes flying.  When it was my turn, and I got to the bottom and the POOSH! happened, I decided I would sit at the bottom and make all my friends cover me in sand and then I would get up out of the sand.  How fun!  Except I didn't realize that I had to go pee, and while I was being buried I totally peed.  Kids are so gross! 

Anyway, when I stood up, my "friend" Rachel Kakageezik from two doors down started chant-singing, "Kady peed her pa-ants, Kady peed her pa-ants."

Post Number 355

One morning in Minneapolis I totally crashed on a couch in a house that my buddy Nancy was housesitting (yes, you, Natty and Dave).  In the morning there were four kids and 3 schools and so I offered to drive her oldest to school.  She hadn't eaten and so I brought her to the gas station.  I thought it was hilarious that I was trying to find something nutritious for her to eat before school, at the gas station.  Of course she chose a nasty premade sandwich and we bought gum and then it was off to school.  I felt kinda like a mom for the moment, and also kind of like a good friend.  It was a nice morning, and as I approached her high school, (not at all unaware that she is a new, small-town kid in a new, big-city school), I realized this kind of opportunity doesn't come very often.  I stopped the car in the drop off point, looked at her, and slowly rolled her window down.  No words were exchanged.  She shook her head 'no'.  I shook my head 'yes'.  She shook 'no', and I shook 'yes' for several minutes.  "I have to."  I said, and she cried just a little.  NO.  PLEASE.  Her eyes said.  YES, AND I'M SORRY, said mine back.

"HAVE A GREAT DAY AT SCHOOL, KHIA!  MAKE GOOD CHOICES!  REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE!!"  *HONK HONK*

I Heart Trees

(You may remember this poem as the one my shop teacher made me memorize and recite for too many tardy arrivals to his class. But I never forgot it.)

I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest Against the sweet earth's flowing breast

A tree that looks at God all day, And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain; Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree. -Joyce Kilmer

And Hal, my dad.  My dad makes trees.  In fact he's kind of obssessed with them.  I call him Johnny Appleseed, because he's constantly planting trees.  Sometimes he just cuts off a branch of one tree and sticks it in the ground, and voila!  A new tree!  A tree that you better not accidentally scrape with the lawn mower because then you pretty much killed the tree and he'll never forgive you.  I often wonder if he would be as mad if somebody scraped ME with a lawnmower.  Probably not.  He'd probably suggest it was somehow my fault because, stupid, I got in the way. 

Remember this old Hal-ism? "I don't mind killing animals, but I hate killing a tree...unless it's already dead and I cut it up to burn it."

Maybe this is where I get my love for trees.  I love them.  I love taking pictures of them, and seeing their silhouette against the sky.  This year I have seen so many amazing trees.  Here are my favorites:

Bali

Australia

New Zealand, South Island

New Zealand, North Island

Cambodia

Laos

Korea

Panama

Samoa

Singapore

Thailand

But my favorite? My absolute favorite tree in the whole world? This little momma, located in International Falls, MN, on the way up to my job at Island View Lodge. I got to drive by this tree almost every day this summer. I kept meaning to take a photo, but never got around to it. You can't really see it in this shot, but there is a huge crook in the neck of this tree.  I can't get enough of it.  Finally, when I went to dinner with my parents at Island View, I made my dad pull over the car so I could take this shot in the rain. Me and dad and my tree.



So True

"Never before have so many people with so little to say said so much to so few."

Blog Padding with Butt Scrunching in Bangkok

I Get This All the Time

People say I look just like Scarlett Johansson. 

They are totally right.

This One is For You, Mitch

Phone.

It.

In.

Ha, Ha, Somebody

Yesterday I got a bug up my butt to do something about the incredible amounts of spam email I receive.  And so, I clicked on a few to 'unsubscribe'.  One of them was the following:

Dear Shanique,


We would like to introduce you to PATRICK from DAR-ES-SALAAM, Tanzania.

Utilizing our Duet® Total Compatibility System, and based upon Personality, Values and Ideals, Life and Lovestyle and Preferences we have found that the two of you could be a perfect match!

Apparently, Patrick is 25 years old, and is into computers and the outdoors.  He is a risk taker, high energy, optimistic and seeks predictability.  Perfectmatch.com believes he could be my perfect match!

I have always received emails from Perfectmatch.com, but never clicked on one before.  This intrigued me, and so I ventured onto perfectmatch.com. 

"Welcome Shanique!", you have four new emails.  Huh?  OHHHHH, I get it.  Somebody set me up with a Perfectmatch.com profile.  Semi-hilarious.  But when?  The first email was from 2007.  Sorry, sarcastic (and maybe a little racist?) friend, I didn't get your joke until just now.

A story my niece Hanna wrote when she was 10.

I hope these two posts don't embarrass my niece Hanna, but she wrote pretty amazing stories for a 9 and 10-year-old, and I decided to share.  She is now ALMOST 16, so she has to forgive me if she wants to drive my car.

Hanna says, "you know what I love about this picture?  It looks like an author's photograph in the back of a book.  With a scarf, and a dog, and glasses, and a background, and looking all serious."

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away there lived a little peasant boy who was very small and poor. Even though all of the other, bigger boy teased him and hit him he was still very kind. Now, every day the little boy (his name was Dickens) went to a rich man’s house to work. The man that he worked for was mean and cruel, making Dickens work very hard for almost no pay, even beating poor Dickens until he was week and bloody. The king at that time was very sick and some very bad people were taking over his throne and making horrible laws so that poor people like Dickens had to work even harder and rich people worked even less. Now the king had two beautiful daughters that lived in the castle with him. The eldest daughter was mean and wicked while the other was sweet and kind. One day the king’s condition got even worse. The youngest daughter, her name being Mary knew what she had to do. Against the strong urges of her father she made it known to the whole kingdom that whoever could find the cure to her father’s illness would be rewarded with her hand in marriage. In that time word traveled fast and within days Dickens’ village was buzzing with excitement. All the boys and young men boasted about how easily they would be able to cure the king of his illness. One after one they went to the castle in hopes of returning with the young princes. And one by one they disappeared, filling their families with shame. Dickens soon realized that he was the only boy left who had not gone. The next morning he set off taking with him what little he had. That consisted of a stale rind of bread and an extra pare of breaches. As he walked through the streets people stopped to laugh and shout, “Look, a poor beggar boy is going to save the mighty king! Haw! Haw!” But Dickens paid them no notice. After walking three days, three nights and a morning he came upon the castle. Stunned at its glory he looked up at it as if he were in a trance. Finally coming to his senses he realized that it was nearing dusk. He then spotted a night’s guardsman and decided to ask him about getting in. As he was walking up to the guard he realized that it was a woman inside of the soot. “Who are you and what do you want?”, the guard asked. “I am Dickens and I am here to save the king. Where do I get inside the castle Dame Night?” The night smiled an evil smile making Dickens uneasy. “You do not getin at all you stupid boy. I am the king’s powerful daughter. When the old king dies I become Queen. Then I get rid of my wretched little sister. She has been in my way the entire time and now I am so close to getting… revenge. She deserves to die. By giving herself to the one who saves the king she has attracted attention to him and brought young men here. Instead of being able to work on my plan I have had to murder all the young men. You will be as easy as killing an ant”. Dickens looked around him for something to use in either fighting or a quick getaway. Just as the evil princes was reaching for her sword he spotted a high ledge just out of his reach. He was a good jumper and quite clever and soon he had thought up a plan. “Before we start we should get a clear battle area so every thing will be fair”, he said trying not to push his luck. The princes scrunched up her face and, as Dickens had hoped, pushed the rock under the ledge. “Better”, Dickens said, “but to make sure that you don’t start when I’m not ready, turn around and count to twenty then, when you hit twenty, turn around and fight. Is that OK?” The princes, grumbling under her breath, did as she was told. When she hit five Dickens dashed for the ledge and scrambled up. Just as he was jumping from the ledge to a large window the evil princes hit twenty and turned around. But she was too late for the boy had already gone threw the window. “I’ll get you some day!!!!”, the princes yelled with furry. Still shaken up the boy soon realized that he was in a small room where an elegantly dressed girl was crying in her sleep. Dickens decided that she must be the younger princes. Not wanting top startle the girl he gently shook her arm. The girl stopped crying and looked up. “Why are you crying?”, Dickens asked. “I saw you and my sister and I thought that she would kill you. You are the last boy and the doctors say that father is ever so sick. They have not let me se him for three years. They say that I will catch it but they just say that because father loves me. Sometimes I can hear him from outside. Will you help us?”, she asked. “Aye, that I will do”, Dickens promised. Just at that moment, the other sister charged in. She killed both of them, poisoned her father and took over the kingdom, turning everybody into her personal slaves.

My niece Hanna wrote this when she was 9.

Cute little story from Hanna.  Spelling and typing errors were left for authenticity.  This was when she was only 9, and I guess hadn't turned into her bitter, 10-year-old self yet.  (See next post.)


Once upon a time there lived a young maiden. Although she was very poor she was still very kind. She did not steal like the other girls. She was sweat and kind and honest. Rich people probably thought nothing of the little rag that she was. But oh how the people who knew her liked her. Now it just so happened that this young girl was the king’s only daughter. The king didn’t through her out or anything. In fact he didn’t even know that she existed. You may be wondering how this all happened. So I will start at the beginning.
Now at the beginning [the beginning was a long time ago so the king was just a prince] the girl’s father was looking for a bride. He was riding along in his coach in the countryside, when he saw a pretty little peasant girl. Of course he fell in love with her the second he saw her, for that is what happens in all fairy tales. He asked her if she would join him in his coach. She quickly agreed for when she saw him she fell in love too. So they sped off to his castle. When they got there and spoke to his parents they didn’t like it at first for they wanted him to marry a princess. When they saw how much they loved each other they let them get married.
Two years later the new queen had a little girl and named her Elizabeth. But she didn’t tell her husband that she had had a baby. She wanted her child to live in the country instead of a big city. She knew that her husband would make a princess out of her. So she had one of her chamber maids take the baby to an old woodcutter’s cottage. An old widow who lived there agreed to take care of the baby. The queen died and Elizabeth was soon forgotten. The widow who had agreed to take care of Elizabeth was old and kind. Because of her loneliness she took care of Elizabeth as if she was her own. Elizabeth grew to be a great beauty, skilled in many ways. She was poor so she didn’t get a proper education. When she was 11 the widow who had taken care of her hole life, died. Elizabeth had one of the older boys burry the old widow. She could not bare to stay in the old cottage any longer so she packed up what she had and took to the streets. Now it just so happens that that through all this time she only knew two things about her parents, 1 that her mother was dead, and 2 her last name was Earlbart.
Now that you know kind of what’s going on I can tell you the real story. Elizabeth had been wandering around the streets for two years when she came to a noble mans house. She decided to ask for something to eat. The cook came to the door, and seeing a strong looking young woman standing there asked what she wanted. A little food if you please ma’am. Now the cook liked being called ma’am so she got Elizabeth a small bowl of stew. Where are you spending the night?, asked the cook. Oh wherever there is a place to stay., Elizabeth answered lazily. You may live in the attic as long as you do the dishes, said the cook decidedly. Oh may I!!! Just think! If I do dishes forever I will have a home forever!! So it was settled. Elizabeth moved in that night. The nobleman had a daughter named June and she soon grew very fond of Elizabeth and Elizabeth soon grew very of June. As a surprise June asked her father if Elizabeth could be her maid. Her father agreed and both girls were delighted. Then one day the nobleman received a letter from the king. It was inviting him and his daughter to dinner!! Both June and her father were terribly exited. And Elizabeth was happy for her friend. On the day before they left June approached Elizabeth and asked her the question that changed her life, will you come with me? That’s all it took to have Elizabeth being sped off into the night. Elizabeth had never been so exited! Her, a poor beggar girl! Meeting a king!

She felt fidgety just thinking about it! Finally after what seemed to be ho9urs they arrived at the castle. A servant then led them to their bedchambers. Elizabeth and June talked and giggled for a while until it was time for their sup. When they were ready they walked into the elegant room of dining. It nearly took their breath away. The walls were studded with diamonds and almost every other jewel you could think of. Everything was elaborate in some way. All of these things were wonderful until they saw the king. He was quite old I must admit but every visible inch of him was terribly handsome. “Oh” squealed Jane. He looks just like you! Yah, agreed Elizabeth. Only if you don’t include our cloths, look at me! I’m in rags! “Only compared with his cloths,” replied June coolly. “Oh all right!”, Elizabeth screeched. “Why don’t you go up talk to him?”, June asked. He might get a kick out of you looking like him. “ARE YOU NUTS!!!!!!!!! I could get kicked out!”, Elizabeth screamed. Please not so loud Elizabeth! You’re going to get both of us kicked out! Come with me when my father introduces me. I can ask him to introduce you too. I’m absolutely sure he would do that. Oh really June! You would do that for me!! Of course I would. That’s what friends are for. So ten minutes later the three of them walked up to the throne and June’s father introduced them. “This is my daughter June and this is her friend Elizabeth.”, June’s father announced in his best voice. The king was staring at Elizabeth. “You look just like someone I use to know”, he whispered quietly. Then he shook his head as if to be rousing himself. No it couldn’t be. She has been dead for fifteen years. “I’m sorry she died. My mother has been dead for fifteen years too.” The king looked up suddenly. What? Your mother? Who was she? What did she look like? Well, said Elizabeth thoughtfully picking at her earlobe. She looked like me and her name was Maria. She died just after I was born so I don’t know anything else about her. Why do you ask? Oh lord! You are my daughter! I knew I had a child! I have known for all these years and I haven’t even done anything!! Everybody kept saying that it was impossible. But I knew. I knew. And with that he burst into a flood of tears. The next day Elizabeth was moved into a larger bed chamber. For the next two weeks everything possible was one to make Elizabeth feel at home. There was even a tutor for her. Then one night the king had a grand ball for Elizabeth. Everyone was there. Even June and her father were there. But Elizabeth was most caught up with the young prince who was there. He introduced himself to her. Then it hit her. She was in love. That night he proposed to her. She agreed and they were married the next day. They had four kids and lived happily ever after in his castle.





The End



My favorite part is when they were "taking their sup".  LOVE YOU HANNA!!!

Minnesota 'fun facts'.

I have been finding myself feeling very nostalgic for Minnesota these days, sighing every time I see a 3M product, or see a Josh Hartnett ad for cologne.  I'm sure I'm driving Nicole nuts with my whole, "Target is a Minnesota company", or "you know, Amy Adams got her start at the Chanhassen Dinner Theater", or, "that Aveda product you're using was probably made in Minnesota", blah blah blah. 

I love telling people how much snow y'all are getting, and that the Metrodome COLLAPSED from the weight of it all!  That Bob Dylan was born in Hibbing and Prince is a local.  I found an old link of supposed Minnesota facts that I decided to share. 

Click here for Minnesota 'fun facts'.

(I have no idea if any of these are true.)

Summer's blog

Click here to read a runny story I forgot to blog about from Vietnam

This is a link to Summer's blog from our SE Asia trip.  As you know, I'm in a race against myself to hit 365 posts by December 31st, so I'm really phoning it in now.  The story's good, though.

I Don't Mean to Toot My Own Horn, but BEEP BEEP

Did you notice that I hit 50,000 page views the other day!?  Pretty good for only 27.5 months.  I think that equates to roughly 6 million hits per day.

I should confess that the number "50,000" does include my own clicking on the blog, so a more accurate number of 'outside' hits would be like 1,687.  The rest being me, obsessively checking to see if anybody else visited.

*Refresh* "49,998...49,999...50,000.  They are going to think I am SO popular!"

The Bummer about "Blonde" Hair

Some of you may be surprised to hear this, but I use chemical products to change the color of my hair. Here is it's natural color:

See how ugly it makes me look?

And so, I dye my hair.  The problem is maintenance.  I can get away with about 8-10 weeks between dye jobs, but at the 10 week mark, it's kind of urgent. 

The next problem is, in Central America, it's tricky to find a stylist that understands how the blonde-haired Norwegian woman's hair works.  Or more correctly, I told myself it would be difficult to find a stylist that understands how the blonde-haired Norwegian woman's hair works.  Based on my experience in Malaysia. 

And so, I decided to do it myself.  I did the first inch of my hair, or the grown out roots.  And I forgot how badly bleach burns when you apply it directly to your scalp.  Your sunburned scalp.  I was only able to leave it on for 40 minutes.  Then I reapplied for another 40 minutes.  But it only lifted to a nice orange shade.

Like this:

So, I wasted $10 on the box.  In Panama I went to the mall and bit the bullet for a dye/cut job.

The result was super nice color.  Love it.  Dude did a great job with the color.

BUT: Now, in the back, I am supporting a lovely 90's mushroom cut I would have killed for in 6th grade. It's OK. I will just have to face everyone for the next month.

Poser

Tips on how to pose for a photo.  Do it like Ana Lorena, the girl 4th from the left.  And not like me.

Proof I Surfed in Panama