Sorry -- Monday musings is on vacation in San Antonio. Please check back next week for a new episode.

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People are usually surprised when they discover I'm a Sex and the City addict. However, I don't watch the show for the men, the sexual exploits, or the New York City hotspots. (Okay, sometimes I do.) But the real reason I'm hooked on the show is because I'm living vicariously through the characters' friendships. Through heartbreak and shoe shopping, Carrie and the girls are always there for each other.

I desperately want a girl gang of my own (albeit a less slutty one). Trying to make new friends has proven to be one of the hardest parts of post-collegiate life. My true-blue, best friends are the people I became close to during high school and college. While we're still close, none of us live near each other. I can't call my best friends and tell them to meet me at the coffee shop in twenty minutes. One of them lives in Japan, for God's sake.

In an effort to expand my social circle, I've joined community service groups and tried to befriend coworkers, acquaintances, and the like. And let me tell you, it's hard. I have a group of girls that I play card games and drink wine with once a month, but it's purely a social connection, not an emotional one. Making friends after college is a lot like dating. Finding someone with similar interests, values, and the X-factor -- that indefinable quality that makes people "click" -- isn't easy.

From what I've heard and observed, many twenty-somethings seem to be in the same boat. You'd think we could get our act together and find our own circle of Friends, but alas, life isn't a sitcom. In college, everyone shares a similar lifestyle experience. After graduation day, we no longer have a common experience to bring us together. Some go to grad school, some get married, some have kids, some travel overseas, some focus on careers ... you can see why it's hard to find a connection.

Sometimes I get lonely and wonder if I'm a special kind of loser because I don't have many friends in Lincoln. However, being in a friendship drought has made me appreciate my true friends even more, and I've become better at expressing just how much I care about them. I'm also glad that as we get older, the age difference between me and my lovely sisters matters less. When I do or say something goofy, Hayley and Lindsey may laugh at me, but I know they love me no matter what. That's the best kind of friend, if you ask me. :)

At the risk of sounding like a cheesy mass e-mail forward, do the following today:
1) Call a friend and thank them for putting up with your crazy self
2) Hug your sisters, for they can be the greatest friends.
3) Watch an episode of Sex and the City. It rocks.

My fellow bloggers, I have the MOST interesting first date story you'll ever hear....or at least the most interesting one you've heard so far. I thought that I'd experienced all the first dates ever. There was the blind date to the Seward High School prom with a socially inept Irish man (which landed me at home in tears at 10:00 on that Saturday night), then there are they typical awkward dates where you're trying-to-like-each-other-so-much-that-we-have-pasted-smiles-and-fake-laughs-to-boot, and lastly those very few that when you get home you think to yourself, "Wow, that was pretty painless. In fact I think I just had a GOOD first date." I don't know about you guys, but good first dates are hard to come by. And now you will learn how I crashed into my most eventful first date.

My friend Jay and I have known each other since last year. We've been hanging out more this semester, but mainly in a group setting, so when he Facebooked me that we should hang out I figure I'll be one of seven in attendance. Well when I called him about our plans he told me I could pick out my favorite movie that is playing at Starship (the $2 theatre in Lincoln.) I picked Elizabethtown, which he said he would love to see. I met him at his house and found that we were the only ones going (could it be a date? Wait and see!) As we get into his Honda Civic, camera in hand, he decideds that he would like to take me out in his "nice" car. I agree of course. You don't mess with guys and their vehicles. So his other car is red with T-tops (yes that's all I know. This will come in handy later in the story, so don't forget that I'm car stupid and didn't know what kind it was.) We drove to the movie and got found our seats at the theatre. The movie was REALLY good and we had fun talking too. As we were leaving he was telling me about all the parking tickets he's gotten in his life. Then he told me how many traffic tickets he's got (42!) This really didn't bother me because I knew that most of them were minor details. So as we were driving back he was kind of showing off with his manly power with the gas petal and he laughed. I asked him why and he told me that I had a scared look on my face. I then add saucily, "I don't get scared!" HA. Well about five blocks later we hit some ice and began to fishtail. I was scared then let me tell you. Jay couldn't get control of his little red car so the back end flew around and the car jumped the curb and hit a tree. I kid you not. The tree hit right on my door, so the top part of the door bent in and hit me in the head. The side of the door came in pushing my right knee into the inside of my left and my feet got stuck. (This really is tragic and they told me that I'm lucky to be alive, but I have to add my own humor to make it all better. I thought I should warn you since you're probably gasping OH MY GOSH!!!) Well immediately Jay asks if I'm okay. I figure if I'm still breathing, I'm okay! Well I then was scared because I was stuck and couldn't get out of the car. I didn't want the Jaws of Life to get ahold of me!

Somehow, probably adrenaline-induced, I managed to slip out of my shoes and crawl out Jay's driver side door. By then the cops are there and are telling me that they're calling an ambulance. I'm like, oh super so now I can't go back and study. This really shouldn't have been on my mind, but hello I'm a stressed college student. So they put me in the ambulance and put me on a backboard with a neck brace and they asked if me and my boyfriend had been fighting or if there was any anger involved. I said he's not my boyfriend, and no we didn't fight. They then proceeded to put an IV in. 10 stabs later they told me I had crazy veins and said they wouln't poke me anymore. Thank goodness! I'm already in enough pain right?

When I got to the hospital I got x-rays because I had head pain (duh), left shoulder pain, left knee pain, and chest/side pain. So I think I got about 12 x-rays and one CAT scan by 1:00. I then was crying because I didn't want dad to kill Jay (he really is a nice boy with good intentions) and I hadn't called anyone yet, because I didn't know who I should call. But then I got back to room 26 in the ER and saw Jay sitting there. He told me he talked to my friend Sarah and told me that his parents were praying for me. How nice! Then he asked if I wanted to call mom and dad. I was like "Unless you want an ear-full from my dad right now, I don't think so." Finally, they told me that the x-rays looked good but that I was badly bruised. Super! My roommate and four guy friends all came to the hospital so I felt better.

Anyway yesterday I called my parents and all my dad said once he found out that I was not going to die, he started asking if we were friends and was all oooo-lala. I was like, "DAD, are you kidding me? So then I told him that yes, Jay, is a nice boy." So just to update you, my shoulder and knee hurt real bad and I hobble around, but you know what....I'll be just super! In fact, Jay brought me fresh baked cookies, flowers, and a card and a couple of my other guy friends gave me flowers and a card. I feel so special! So I thank God that I'm alive and will be well, and I also will more than likely be going on a second date with Jay; however, I think we should take bikes instead!

It's only 8:27 a.m., and I'm ready to go back to bed. I have a sleep hangover from waking up too quickly.

My happy slumber was interrupted this morning when I rolled over in bed and noticed that the room was filled with more light than usual. I grabbed my alarm clock, which read 7:36. Cripes! I forgot to set my alarm.

I leaped out of bed, washed my face and smeared on the minimum amount of makeup required to prevent me from scaring people, and concealed my bedhead. That's not an easy task when a ponytail isn't an option, but luckily I showered before bed last night so my hair wasn't all wonky and gross. I packed my breakfast, fed the cat, and managed to leave the house by 8:00.

Now, a twenty-four minute mad dash to the door probably isn't impressive to the college students on board, but I'm pretty impressed with myself. I can easily waste 90 minutes before work each day. See, I wake up slooowly. It's not like I spend the whole time beautifying myself, but I do everything in such slow motion that preparing for the day takes about 45 or 50 minutes longer than it should. Plus, I believe in leisurely reading my newspaper and eating a complete breakfast, which is difficult to do at work. Oh, and I'm easily distracted by Mr. Blue doing something adorable and feeling the urge to scrub the sink, sweep the bathroom floor, take out the garbage, wash a week's worth of clothing, or do some other random chore.

Like my dad, I love sleeping. However, I also inherited Mom's OCD. I'm telling you, it's a terrible combination that presents quite a quandary in the morning.

Indulge me a bit if you will. I know I've been writing novels on here lately, but with not having to work another day between now and January 3rd, I have some time on my hands, and a nasty bit of insomnia. Paid vacation days rule.

I'm feeling pretty damn good right now. Not because I am hammered after my test, though it feels good to be done with econ professor, Dr. Evil.

No....today I am feeling thankful. Ash is asleep right now upstairs, and I am a little high on caffiene and adrenalin from the final, so I'm still up.

I'm feeling thankful because three years ago today, I took a my best friend out to dinner in Omaha and as we walked around the central park mall Christmas lights, I asked her to marry me. It was probably not the dream proposal she had imagined, as it was clumsy, teary, and a little corny (then again, I AM clumsy, and a little corny so it had to be expected), but I don't think the words I said or where I said them really mattered.

I won't bore you with romance and cheesyness that will either make you go eww or roll your eyes, but I'm a pretty lucky geek. I don't deserve her or the life I have with her. I'm just a tool that happened to get lucky.

I've gained more respect for that girl every day since that night, and she continues to amaze me with her drive, compassion, heart, integrity, respect and all the other adjectives I woudl add if I were actually wide awake.

One of my closer friends was telling me the other day that he envied me, because I am really just a tool, yet I have it all. Now, I don't really think I have it all, but I do have wonderful friends, a great family, and what I can only image are perfectly normal (and not the usual crazy) in-laws. My cousin Matt's inlwas are horrible....

So I guess that alone makes me feel pretty darn wealthy. To some people, that may not be worth a hill of beans -- but this is my hill, and these are my beans.

Wealth is not about shares of Microsoft, a high paycheck or how many bathrooms your house has. Wealth is not the type of car you drive or the clothes you wear.

And as I sit in our basement, with the cat curled up at my feet as I type, I feel tremendous good forture. Thanks to that lady upstairs, this is as good as it could ever get.

Well... I'm driving her up to Omaha on Thursday night for dinner at that same restaurant and a walk through that same park. And then walking across the street to see U2 rock the Qwest center will be Ok too.

Monday musings.

Well, the paper from hell is done and I am focusing on studying now. Tomorrow at this time, I'll be sitting in class taking the test. Then I will be drinkign heavily.

Hayley, Ash and I had a conversation yesterday that I have to clarify. I stated that I dislike girls like Ashley and Hayley that had all these guys interested in college and are interested in the guys in return....yet when the guy is finally given the chance, the girls lose interest. To clarify, I didn't mean to say I hate girls like that. But....when I think of how big of a tool I was with girls as a freshman or sphopmore in college, I know that I wasn't smooth or whatnot, but I knew I would treat them good and not try to impregnate withiin 4 minutes of the first date. That's why some of the good guys are so gun shy to approach you. The four girls I dated before Ash nearly made me want to give up women. Of course, a nympho, a bi-sexual lesbian, a one-night hook-up that never called me back and the women I call pure evil (mainly in jest) will do that for you. Which brings me to my next point.

Hayley, Julie, Lindzo, Mary, and Paul (switch all the he's to she's in this paragraph and you'll get the point).....Give the geeks a chance every so often. The dream boats and jocks will not treat you nearly as good as the occasional geek will. The hunky dudes will only hold on to you until something else catches their interest. They have so many opportunities, they take good girls for granted and don't knwo how to treat you ladies. Geeks on the other hand cherish the opportunity to spoil, care for and love a good girl that just givs them a chance. And you never know. The geek can grow up a lot from his freshman to senior year. Think about how much of an idiot you were three years ago and I rest my case. So all I'm saying is that you ladies struggling to find your dream guy may want to look at the guys you know will treat you like queens, make you feel special, and will cherish you. Most of the time they will grow up. So give a geek a chance. Ashley did, and I hope it turned out OK for her.

I'm bullish on the Steel and Oil market. Keep your eyes on Nucor (with a Norfolk NE plant) and Encana or Nexium.

I really like brownies.

Did you know pecans will lower your cholesterol?

I wore a baseball hat and jeans for 20 minutes when I stopped by the office today. that was neat.

I got more work done in that 20 minutes than I do in a regular day of work. Why is it when I have 300 things to do and limited time, i can get them done quicker than when I only have ten things to do all day long? A quandry indeed.

I suck at typing, and the tips of my fingers are numb from that darn paper.

I can taste the beer tomorrow night after the test. Mmmmmm.

You might be a nerd if you've ever gotten seriously injured in band class. As of yesterday, I became a true nerd when, during band class, I managed to gash the bridge of my nose deep enough to have to get it stitched up. You're probably wondering how exactly I accomplished this, so let me tell you.

It all began when the band was practicing a rendition of "Do You Hear What I Hear" and "Snow Bells" for our upcoming Christmas program. The trumpet section was having some difficulty with part of "Snow Bells," so Mrs. Wellman was working with us on it. All of the sudden she got all ticked off exclaiming, "The rest of the band shouldn't have to sit and wait quietly while you guys try to figure this out. Can't you practice outside of class? That's it. I've had enough. Go out in the hall and practice." Well, I was already ticked off at her because I almost had to get a tardy at the beginning of class because of her, so I shot back, "Fine. I don't want to be in here anyway." (I don't know exactly if she heard me or not, but I hope she did.) With that, I grabbed my trumpet, picked up my stand, and trooped out of the room with the rest of the first trumpets. (Don't confuse my being a first trumpet with actually being good at playing it. Keep in mind, we were being sent out in the hall because we basically suck!)

So, I get out in the hall, and I'm all pissed off, which probably hindered my ability to use my head...well, I did, sort of...oh just let me get on to it. I needed to raise my stand because we were going to be standing up. Well, this stand was one of the many half-broken, f**ked (see how mad I am, I'm cussing) up stands our school has, so I'm pulling on it, and it won't budge. Finally, I yank up on it as hard as I can, the whole top part flies off, slamming me on the bridge of my nose. In my frustration, I throw down the stand and turn around yelling, "Gosh darn it, guys. I just hit myself in the head with this stupid thing." I reach up to feel my nose, and I just feel this indention in my nose, so I think nothing of it until everyone gasps at the sight of my face. "Lindsey, you're going to bleed," "Oh my God!" "Are you okay?" "You need to go to the nurse." These are the responses I get, and I'm just all like, "What?"

So, one of my fellow trumpeters/flag co-captain ushers me off to the nurse. You have to understand this girl is as blond as they come, so she's freaking out asking me if I'm going to faint, while I'm just all, "I feel fine." Heck, I didn't even cry. That's right. I'm tough. Anyway, when I get to the nurses office and see this lovely gash on my face, I realize it is worse than I thought. The nurse tells me I probably need stitches, which is what really scares me because dang, that would hurt.

I then drove home, and Dad took me to the doctors, where luckily, he didn't have to stitch me up; he used some special glue called Durabond to patch me up. So, now I have a lovely little band-aid on my forhead instead. The bonus: it's Care Bears! Everyone at school made fun of me so bad. Don't worry. It didn't bother me. At least not as much as the thousands of times I got asked, "What happened?" That is so annoying. But really, I can't blame people for making fun of me. I mean, seriously. How many people actually get hurt in band?! By the time this is all over, I'm hoping I've started a new trend: the band-aid across the nose look. Heck, Nelly did it with the band-aid across his cheek. Why can't I?

My apologies. Yesterday was a wee bit busy with actual work and all. Plus, the two times I tried to log on, the site would never come up. So here it is, belated Monday musings:

• Last class tonight with the bastard-coated bastard of a professor. Last week, the guy tries to tell us that because of their increased efficiency, Wal Mart is the most ethical company ever to exist in the world. He also told us illegal immigrants are great for the economy and the like. That's what happens when you put on the glasses of only looking at one aspect like the economics and you ignore social implications completely. After this class, he may get a promotion in my book to Dr. Asshat Bastardfield.
• I hate snow drifting. Especially when it is too tall to hit with the hand-me-down snowblower. Can't wait to dig that out after class tonight.
• Fluctuating oil prices are really throwing consumer goods into an up-and-down loop. That said, I'd stick with something known like Johnson & Johnson or Proctor & Gamble.
• Today is my last chance to get Chipotle and torture Dr. Asshat. Due to the cold weather, I had to moisturize today. Therefore, as per previous blog, said activity is encouraged.
• I hate our athletics department. Tools.
• No good video clips this week. Sorry.

IT'S OFFICIAL! The Anderson reunion is going to happen, and everyone is coming! I booked the hotel rooms this morning, so start thinking of ideas for our wild New Year's Eve, heh heh. Should I look for the dreidel? :)

Hayley, please, pretty please, skip the wedding. New Year's Eve would not be the same if you ditched us.

As many of you know, I have a very "active" mind, if you will. What I mean by this is that basically I have really random thoughts that pop into my head. Most of the time I keep them to myself, but you all have the honor of knowing my random thoughts on this beautiful December day.

Random Thoughts (in the form of fun facts and observations made by yours truly)
P.S. Andy I realize that this may resemble your Monday musings; however, you haven't copyrighted this trend, so I shall muse myself and try to be as cool as you!

• Did you know that an authentic smile lasts only two seconds? After that it's a big fakeout!
• Did you know that when you mimic an emotional state (for example pretending to be mad when really you're happy) you use completely different facial muscles than the ones used when you express true anger?
• Did you know that in some countries it is polite to offer your wife to a houseguest? However, you can only offer her once, so after that watch out! (And by offering your wife I mean....well it's more than polite conversation.) Note to self: don't stumble upon that country with husband in the future.
• Fun tip: When you're down in the dumps or mad because a certain neighbor in the dorms is being a bizotch, try smiling. It'll actually make you feel much better!
• Cooking tip: don't try making chili soup with four cans of tomato paste, one can of tomato slices, bacon bits, and one can of beans. (Yes, I let boys cook for me and this is what I get. Good thing I made some stellar cinnamon rolls so I had something to eat!)
• And lastly, ladies you may enjoy this, if you go to the Mary Kay website (www.marykay.com) you can buy one product and get another half off! See your local Mary Kay dealer for more information!

Abbreviated monday musings. Since I am only working a half day today and the weather outside is frightful.

• I'm glad Nebraska won, but bowl games suck. We won't know where we're going until next week, and even so, I'll have to find about $20,000 in sponsorship dollars in three days. No pressure. I also won't know until next week whether or not I have to go, which may or may not pull me from the Des Moines trip. San Diego and San Antonio or Des Moines? Hmmm.
• Caffeine is the devil. I do this every time we eat at Valentino's. See, I had a pretty bad addiction to caffeine during high school and college. I'm quite proud that I have nearly kicked the habit and now only require one soda or glass of tea/coffee per day. But with all that pizza and the like, i get thirsty. The result, I was wired and up until about 3:30 last night. Bummer.
• Gross holiday fact. Between Valentino's, a night out at the Mac Grille with the wife, and thanksgiving stuffing, I gained 7 pounds until last night. After several trips to the bathroom with my Sports Illustrated to kill the time, I lost five of those pounds back. Impressive, huh?
• Got to say that the semiconductors market played right into my hands last month. Instead of buying stock in apple, why not buy stock in the processor company that builds the parts? That little jewel (CNXT) pocketed us a 17% gain in two weeks without worrying about the Apple (AAPL) bubble bursting!
• Only two more classes with the bastard-coated bastard of a professor with a creamy bastard center. This week we have to write an ethics paper, and he said it is OK to break the law if the law is stupid and counterproductive to your business. Grrr. So I guess Enron was completely ethical? What a tool. Can't wait for this class to be over.
• I have to pee now.
• An example of how hollywood can edit anything that you see in a movie trailer to make it seem totally different than what the movie is about. the lesson, never trust a trailer: http://www.ebaumsworld.com/videos/bigtrailer.html

I am recovering from some shocking news one of my coworkers told me about five minutes ago. Hayley and Lindsey, brace yourselves: The Red Barn is becoming a strip joint.

The Red Barn is the tavern in Goehner where, as a child, I ordered many plates of grilled cheese and fries, which I washed down with a Shirley Temple. It's also the place where farmers stop for lunch, order an evening beer, and play cards. Dad has been a regular customer for at least 30 years. It's not an upscale place by any means, but the jukebox, the beer posters, and the red toilet seat in the ladies' room look downright classy compared to a stage filled with exotic dancers.

Happy Holidays, Andersons! I hope your Thanksgiving was a feast 'o plenty.

The cloudy, blustery, rainy weather put me in the holiday decorating mood. Despite declaring that he wanted nothing to do with decking the halls, Andy joined my decorating extravaganza. First, the $2 tree topper I bought during last year's clearance sales wouldn't stay on the tree because the topper was too top-heavy. Andy told me he would take care of it. Fifteen minutes and one power tool later, the star sat precariously on top of the tree.

After showing off his manly engineering skills, Andy went to the office, where he surfed weather.com and checked the progress of the impending snow storm. The real fun began when he returned to the living room to survey my progress. "The tree needs balls," he proclaimed. After finding the glass Christmas balls with other decorating rejects hidden in the guest room closet, Andy asked me whether I preferred the smaller ornaments or the larger ones.
Me: "I don't care. Whatever makes your holiday heart happy."
Him: "I like the big balls."

After a few minutes of helping Andy hang balls, I picked up two University of Nebraska ornaments.
Me: "Do we have to hang these?"
Him: "Hey, if we have to use your tacky shit, we have to use my tacky shit."
Fair enough.

Finally, it was time to hang our stockings. As I climbed onto a chair to reach the ledge, this conversation took place:
Andy: "STOP! You're taking Holiday Andy's job!"
Me: "I am?"
Andy: "Anything involving climbing is Holiday Andy's job!"

I'm making a mental note of that.

Ashley: On Saturday, we lovely ladies, along with Lindsey, headed to the local mall for manicures. Excited by how nice our nails looked, we trotted over to Trade Secret to peruse the nail products. I (Ashley) turned to Hayley and said, "Why didn’t they use any base coat for our manicures?" And Hayley, the wise beauty expert, told me that base coat is a racket. A sham. Unnecessary. I was shocked, because I’ve been using a base coat for years, probably because Seventeen told me to. In fact, according to Schnookums, base coat does not help a manicure because the chemicals emitted by your nails prevent the nail color from adhering to the nail. The polish only sticks to the base coat, meaning your mani won’t last as long. How rude.

We’re using this little lesson in beauty to announce a new, very special blog feature: beauty tips! We all love to be a little glam sometimes, and we’re here to help all of us make wise choices so we can be our naturally glamorous selves!

Hayley: Our second beauty tip deals with application of shimmers and sparkles with your makeup. I feel that this needs to be brought to our attention since many of us will be attending a holiday party in some shape or form. The rule of thumb with shimmer is to only apply it to TWO areas of the face. This means that if you want to make your eyes stand out more (by applying it especially to the brow bone area), then you may want to use a shimmery lip gloss to finish your look. Another area that deserves shimmer attention is the cheekbones. This is because you want the cheekbones to catch the light in an attractive way. Just make sure that you aren’t using shimmer on the eyes, cheeks, and lips or else you will end up looking like the disco ball above the dance floor!

Signed,
Your beauty gurus

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Oh my do I love the snow that's falling outside my window right now. They are the big fluffy sticky kind. I'll admit that I didn't believe the weather reports of snow forcasted for last night/early AM. I mean since when do those silly kids get this kind of thing right? Oops, that's kind of mean. What I mean is good effort! Anyway so in spite of the snow I can't help but be pushed to a new level of Christmas anticipation. I mean I LOVE the holidays! I'm one of those people that will start breaking out the decorations the day after Thanksgiving. But my biggest weekness is Christmas music. I understand that maybe I'm more prone to this since my life revolves around music and whatnot, but I can't get enough of the groovin' Christmas toons. So I'll be the first to admit that I am a Thanksgiving cheater. This means that even though I'm hardcore about my holidays, I must not skip over one to begin another. Well right now I'm cheating because I'm listening to the Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack. (My excuse is that even though it is Christmas, it has more of the mellow, slow jazz that I love!) Lame excuses I know. So please fellow relatives, forgive me for passing up Thanksgiving for 40 minutes and 24 seconds!

Monday musings:

• Graduate term papers. Why. Why would any professor assign this garbage. Do they really want to read 50 students' 20-page papers? That's 1,000 pages of the same repetitive garbage page after page after page. Part of me wonders if they even get read as much as they just get glanced at.
• The Canadian oil market is really starting to get its legs back, and the timing couldn't be better for the market as a whole.
• You are giving your neighbors permission to egg your house if you have Christmas lights turned on before Thanksgiving. It is perfectly acceptable to have them hung and ready to go at this time of year, but for pete's sake....just leave them off until turkey day.
• I've never really liked yams.
• Enjoy Penn State's mascot doing his Napolean impression: http://college.break.com/articles/mascotdyno.html

Ok, so I got busy on Monday and couldn't do my regular rant. So here is Tuesday's random thoughts.

• I have a theory. I am seeing way too many frat guys and even a guy or two in my circle of friends taking this "metrosexual" thing too far. Plucking eyebrows, using product, etc. Anyway, as winter nears, the air and my skin will get dry (shut up Paul and Cole -- getting older sucks). To make up for using moisturizer and other things I call "girly," men need to over-react in the masculine sense to balance the scales. So it is my theory that for using said product to keep my skin baby-ass soft, I need to spend more time with power tools, watching football, breaking wind or grilling meat. Discuss.
• The Asian markets are rallying nicely right now.
• This semester is quite possibly the worst class I've ever taken. Not only is the professor a bastard-coated bastard with creamy bastard filling, now he is deviating from the syllabus and description of the class into his speciality area of economics. And what a coincidence, he wrote the textbook for the class. I always thought it would be cool to have a teacher that wrote a textbook, thinking they would be way smart. Au contraire -- turns out the professor doesn't really know anything except what is in the book and the sad part is the book is only supposed to cover about 1/4 of what the class is about. I'm still pulling and A in there so far, but I cannot wait for this one to be over. Bastard.
• Talked to a former roommate now living in banjo-country Tennessee. Good talk. Short story is he moved down there with his wife and baby, but they just got a divorce. (He is better off.) The sad part is he is 1,000 times the parent that the mother is, but the mom gets custody only because she has ovaries and is nearly engaged to a guy near 40 who has already had three marriages and a handful of his own kids. Hope it works out for the guy -- but crap like that really makes me cherish the lady I have. (Girls, collective "awwwww.")
• I don't know what is sadder. The fact that our football team sucks so bad, or the fact that we haven't received a single alumni compaliant about football yet this season.
• I love bagels.
• I also love Chipotle. Hmm, maybe I'll go there for lunch, and then sit in the front row of class tonight and reclaim my masculinity by farting all class long right in the professor's lecturing space. Maybe we'd get out early.

Are we getting together for Christmas?

I know this is kind of short, but it's the memory I want to write about. I remember when Grandma and Grandpa would come up to our house to watch fireworks on the 4th of July. Grandma loved to watch the boys fire them off, and when there was a really neat one, she would exclaim, "That was a doozy!" That was always the best part about the 4th.

What I learned while at FFA National Convention in Louisville, Kentucky

1. Even when you think your in the "nice" area of St. Louis (we stopped there on the way) you still will see gangs; homeless people begging, sleeping on park benches, and singing to you; and numerous cars that aren't going to stop for you even if you're still crossing the street.

2. The St. Louis Arch is not brown like you once thought when you saw it in nighttime photos; it is welded together with shiny silver metal.

3. Six Flags theme park has found many ways of strapping you into roller coasters, including standing up and hanging from the roller coaster track. Both of them are awesome unless you're a guy and you get racked from all the twists and turns while standing up.

4. People from Arkansas have the thickest southern accent ever. They don't say "you guys", instead they say "yearns." Example: Instead of saying, "Where are you guys from?", they say, "Where yearns from?" Imagine that with a southern accent. Also, roads are not numbered there; they have names like "Opossum Trout Road." That is NOT an exaggeration, it is for real.

5. When you go to a racetrack, say Keeneland for example, expect to see A LOT of rich people. Little skinny blondes dressed in the latest fashions, 40+ women in fur, and 3-year-old little boys in khakis, a little sports jacket, and a little old-fashioned looking hat. They will also come with $40,000 in their pockets and make it sound like they're going cheap that day.

6. Don't let anyone tell you differently. No matter how many times you tell yourself, "It's not real. It's all fake," you will still be scared shitless and scream thousands of times in a made-up Halloween Haunted House.

7. No matter how new or nice a charter bus is, you still aren't going to be able to get comfortable, let alone sleep, on the 12 hour bus trip home.

The last ransom note?

Ransom note 2
I hate to be a blog-hog, but I have lots of pictures to post, and this is the only night this week when I'm going to have time to update stuff. So, don't forget to scroll down for messages from Mary, Andy, and the cat.

I got another ransom note about my mouse.

Mr. Blue wishes the Andersons a happy Halloween!
(Nothing says Happy Halloween like a cat next to a flaming pumpkin. Jack-o-lanterns are a smelly fire hazard inside the house.)

Andy's weekly Monday musings:

• I wasn't really around all that much with the grandparents. But I was aroudn enough to have a memory or two. It was probably around the second year Ash and I were dating and I think we were over there for Christmas or something and I came up for a drink and to check the football scores with the "adults" after being in the basement for awhile. Grandma invited me in to sit by her, and there was just something about her body language and how she invited me over that made me feel like a real part of this new family. I've felt like a family member ever since.

• I hate incompetent people. I work with a guy that is supposed to be a marketing guru, but everything he does is so poorly researched and planned that my boss and I end up redoing it most of the time. Pisses me off.

• I really wish the commodities market would level out. This constant flux in the prices of natural gasses is bamboozeling.

• My cat's breath smells like cat food.

• Cole and his room mate still owe me money. I wonder if I could steal his truck or talk his girlfriend into giving him the silent treatment until he pays up.

• The bastard-coated bastard of a professor that has a creamy bastard center is better this week, but the resolution of last week's rant is that I nailed the problem and nobody else did. The class is called "International Business Theory" but the only thing we have studied thus far is economics because he is an economics professor. No marketing, no accounting, no management, just econ. It is a load of crap. I can't wait to have these core classes done and get back to the sweet release of marketing.

• I hope it rains. I installed new windshield wipers on the cars this weekend. i want to play with them

• I would also like Paul to write an essay on the President's leadership over the last three months. I would be interested to hear his viewpoints, especially after spending most of a semester in a liberal-pinko-commie town like Madison.

• I have decided I would like to visit Madison on a football weekend. Perhaps we wait another year or so for Hayley and other people with fake IDs to get to 21. If we promise beer, we may even get Cole along.

• Peace out, players.

My memories
I don't know if it's possible to pick a favorite memory of Grandma, but the thing I miss most is our long talks at the kitchen table. When I came home from college for the weekend, sometimes I'd go straight to Grandpa and Grandma's house without stopping at home. No matter how stressed I was about school, just being around Grandma made me forget anything negative in my life. We talked about a lot of mundane stuff, like what people were up to, or the letters she'd written that week, but somewhere along the line she'd manage to give me a piece of advice about life in general. I don't even know if she was aware of it. Right now I'd give anything to tap five times on the door, greet her with a huge hug, and sit around that Formica table in the kitchen with her, eating popcorn, drinking Pepsi, and talking about life.

Grandma was a true lady -- the type of woman I want to be. She spoke the truth, but always with love and tact. She stuck to her principles, but was open-minded enough to consider others' viewpoints. Her mental strength came from her faith, confidence, and love for others. She was the quintessential cozy, cuddly Grandma-type. The family dinners she made are some of the best meals I've ever had. Ham balls and mashed taters ... mmm. :)

Today, many women believe they must be aggressive or intimidating to gain respect. The way Grandma lived her life proves that in the long run, kindness matters. Nice girls don't finish last.

I know that our Blogs are usually the happy, goofy, random musing of all of us cool Andersons (and Washburns), but mine is more of a reflective blog. I thought that we should dedicate a full blog today for Grandma Norma. As sad as it is to think that she's been gone for 4 years now, I think that each of us should write about a memory we have of Grandma, so that we can remember good times in Nebraska all together or perhaps just a personal memory of each of us with Grandma. So here's mine.

As a young child I loved to go to church because I knew that I could sit between Grandma and Grandpa. Grandpa would be on my right and would always offer me a stick of Fredent gum and Grandma would let me hold her hand and play with her rings. When I was older I remember her telling me about each of them. She'd tell me who got them for her, why each gemstone was the color it was, and just how much she loved them. My favorite one was the ring with a gold band that had multi-colored gemstones. Each gemstone was for the month that each of the kids (our uncles, aunt, and dad) were born in. After I fiddled with her rings I would rest me head on her arm and she would hold my hand. When I was between Grandma and Grandpa I felt as if there wasn't a trouble in the world. Perhaps now that I'm older and more stressed I should think back to those days with Grandma and Grandpa!

As trivial as this memory may seem, it is one that is imprinted into me. I hope that each of you can take the time to write about your favorite memory about Grandma (and Grandpa) too. By the end we all will have six memories that will either come back to us or new ones to remember them by.

Today's ransom note
About 30 minutes after I left my farewell party, I realized that I left my Husker laser mouse in my old office. Today someone at the e-mail address catgotyourmouse at hotmail dot com sent me this picture.

Monday musings.

Ok, so I just had the strangest experience. See as part of my job, people call me out of the blue all the time with the latest fundraising ideas for the University, or a product they want to market to alumni. I can usually tell after 30 seconds if the product/idea is any good or if the person is a complete wacko. Well, I listen to this guy pitchin game for about ten minutes, I'm beign nice and asking questions even though there is no way that we will likely work with him. I conclude by telling him to send a proposal in writing and we'd let him know. So he takes down all my info and then (here's the weird part) and he's saying goodbye, he says "Ok, thanks for your time. Love you." i didn't know what to say or do so I was just silent. I think he was maybe hoping I hung up the phone. I said, "have a good one" and he said, "Oh God" and quickly hung up. I am still laughing.

I have an econ problem I have been working on for two weeks that I just can't make work. It is frustrating the hell out of me. I spend three hours trying to crack it only to realize as I am writing my summary, that my solution is not feasible. The professor is a bastard. Actually, he is a bastard-coated bastard with a thick creamy bastard-filled center.

It is cold out.

Yes, I had a dream about that econ problem.

Space heaters rule.

Remember our crazy neighbor, skater-dude? This has to be him: http://www.ebaumsworld.com/videos/carsurfing.html

Peace out, players.

Deck the halls with ... spiders?
I love decorating for the holidays. Right now, pumpkins line our front steps and deck, and they look lovely. But "Halloween lights" and inflatable lawn decorations cross the line of good taste, in my opinion. One of the nicest houses in our neighborhood has two inflatable black-and-purple spiders in the front lawn. They are CREEPY, and are at least 10' x 10' each. Nary a strip of green grass is showing. In addition to the blow-up spiders, this house has an inflatable pumpkin on the porch, orange cobwebs strung all over everything ('twould love to see them now since it's been raining all day), giant plastic spiders covering the bedroom windows, and one of those machines that projects a Halloween design on the garage door. Oy.

Lindsey is the family expert in holiday decorations. The Nebraska Andersons have a tradition of driving around random neighborhoods and checking out Christmas lights. Lindsey has been the official judge for at least six or seven years now. She's the Simon Cowell of Christmas lights:

• "Ew, tacky. And their lights are crooked. C-minus!"
• "Ooh, their lights are really straight, and I like the color combination. But it's plain. B!"
• And our favorite, mostly because of the tone of voice she uses: "I give it an A-plus!"

Lindsey, I hereby invite you to judge our neighborhood's Halloween decorations. I'm dying to get your input on the orange-black-purple color scheme that is popular this year.

I think that I've found my new fashion icon! Okay I know this sounds stupid, and Andy and Paul most likely won't appreciate this, but hear me out. So I have a class this semester called Developmental Psychology. My professor for this class is a clinical psychologist at the University Medical Center in Omaha.

When Dr. Raye first walked into class I noticed that she was very well put together. I mean everything matched. The lavender on her jacket matched her RHINESTONE glasses. I'm not kidding. This lady's glasses are rimmed in rhinestones that are PURPLE. And get this, they're real stones. This lady must be raking it in because she also carries around her Louis Vetton bag like its the next Wal-Mart special. Besides her killer fashion sense she has the craziest hair that I've seen. It's like a shaggy dog's hair gone bad. No offense and all, but it sticks up in about every direction possible. But somehow this bottle-blonde fiasco really works for her. Since you are all aware of my crazy/interesting sense of style you can see how I admire her. She has all the bling and in every color in the spectrum, but she still is the sweetest most energetic professor I've had yet. I only hope that someday I have the funds to back up my fashion taste just like she does!

Hayley and Lindso said they like it when I am short and sweet. That said, my Monday afternoon observations:

• I hate allergies. Either I sneeze all fall, or I am high as a kite on over-the-counter pills.
• I don't understand window covereings as decoration. Girls must pay attention to this a lot more than guys. I say, as long as the neighbors can't see me walking around naked, and there is not light pouring into the room, what's the problem. Man must see function, women must see form. Who knows?
• Cheerios are a good source of fiber.
• My legs hurt. Advice to you youngins, do not go bike riding for exercise into the wind. ouch.

There is no place like Nebraska ...
With 1.7 million people -- compared to 6.3 million cows -- Nebraska is small. That means everyone is connected by six degrees of separation, usually fewer.

This state is so small and interconnected that it's a good idea to check your family tree before dating someone, just to make sure that your Great Uncle Homer isn't your boyfriend's Great Uncle Homer. (Andy claims that one of his high school friends dated a girl for two years before realizing she was his second cousin. The couple broke up immediately, and neither asked the inevitable "Why doesn't he/she want me anymore?" question because the reason was obvious.)

On my second day at the new job, I went to lunch with three women from the office.
New co-worker: So, where are you from originally?
Me: I grew up in Beaver Crossing, a little town about 35 miles west of --
NCW: (while gasping and clutching my hand) OHMYGAWD, honey! Me too!

It turns out that she knows Elroy Senior and her two kids went to school with me before they moved to Lincoln.

Just two hours prior to this conversation, another coworker asked me if I was related to the Washburns of Ashland. Why, yes, yes, I am! This coworker used to ride horses with Andy's aunts and uncles and has a daughter that plays softball with Andy's cousin.

Was this a strange, out-of-the-ordinary day? No. Nebraskans engage in these "I know you through someone" conversations all the frickin' time. It's part of what I love about this state, but it gets eerie at times.

Does this happen in Wisconsin, a state with real metropolitan areas? Or are these exchanges limited to residents of the Dakotas, Nebraska, Montana, and Wyoming? (Iowa's a damn showoff with its 4 million+ population, so it doesn't count.)

Ahh, changes
Change is so frickin' hard. I know quitting my job to try something new was the right decision, but I feel so craptacular in the meantime. Today was my last day, and it was rough. My immediate co-workers are truly wonderful people and I keep getting teary-eyed when I think about how much I'm going to miss them. They were emotional too, which was flattering, but made me even sadder. Good co-workers are rare. Usually you have a jerk, a gossip, or a slacker that brings everyone down. My workplace had those, but luckily none of them worked directly with me.

We said the usual things about going out to lunch or coffee and keeping in touch. The sentiment was genuine; I just hope we follow through. As life changes and everyone goes their separate ways, keeping in touch becomes an afterthought even though it shouldn't.

So, with a heavy -- yet optimistic -- heart, I'm starting a completely new stage of life tomorrow. I'm a wee bit scared and I don't know where my new path will take me, but I'm ready.

On Wednesday I have to go to my Bronco Buddy class, Mrs. Hoffschneider's 2nd grade, to introduce myself. So the kids can get to know me, I'm supposed to bring items that represent the lovely Lindsey Anderson. Today I started getting my things together. I was told pictures of family would be nice, so I began looking through my photo album, hoping to find a picture of each sibling (that includes sibling-in-laws), parent, pet, and friend. I had no problem finding pictures of Oscar, Gidget, and Margie, but when it came to my siblings, I was shocked to find that I had no recent pictures. Don't get me wrong, I have pictures of your gorgeous faces, they just aren't all that recent. Andy, you were almost non-existent, and I greatly apologize for that. Since I don't have any pictures of my own, I have to use our family picture from last fall, which sucks because I look like butt in that picture. Because of this, I have come to the conclusion that we MUST have a photo shoot soon! It will be great fun and will allow me to update my photo albums! Adios mi familia.

Note: I was also quite offended to find that Mom must find her daycare children more interesting than her own because she has very few recent pictures of us too.

Great -- now everytime I drink Orange Juice or have an orange, I'm going to think of my groin.

Wow -- my first ever blog. Sorry, no boy stories here. Just humerous observations on life. As soon as I have one, I'll let you know.

In the meantime, enjoy these:

this guy is my hero: http://www.ebaumsworld.com/sportsnews.html

http://www.ebaumsworld.com/videos/deaddove.html

http://www.ebaumsworld.com/videos/road_trip_prank.html

http://www.ebaumsworld.com/trippyredballs.html

As a young'un with dreams of becoming a fabulous career woman, I thought business travel was a mark of becoming successful.

However, Ugly Lesson of Adulthood, No. 297 has taught me that business trips are not the glamorous junkets I fantasized about. Tomorrow I will travel to Dallas to attend a conference that I do not care about and would not care about even if I weren’t leaving this job next week.

I’ve traveled for my job only four times in the past three years. During those trips, I have felt socially inept at least 50 percent of the time. Unlike the camps I attended in high school and college, business conferences are not run by counselors who lead icebreakers and force people to socialize. While I do not miss doing the dreaded “untie the human knot” trick with sweaty, stinky people, I admit those activities fostered a sense of comraderie among us -- even if the only bond we shared was a mutual dislike of the leaders who had OD’ed on Mountain Dew and cheerleading camp.

You can’t predict the crowd at a business conference. Some are rowdy and want to drink ‘till dawn, some prefer to hang out in their hotel rooms and order room service, and some are more cliquey than students at any high school. Although I’m hardly a party girl, I really prefer going to conferences with borderline alcoholics because those folks are much friendlier than the hermits and the cast of Mean Girls 2: Life After Age 30.

Aside from a third-grade slumber party that I’ve mostly blocked from memory, I have never been more homesick than when I attended a conference in Denver two years ago. Only 30 people came, and most already belonged to a clique from an earlier conference that I didn’t attend. The nice people I met either had friends in the area or were traveling with a spouse, which meant I had nobody to socialize with in the evenings. Not that it mattered, because the hotel was 25 minutes from downtown, and the only nearby attractions were Big Lots, Staples, and McDonalds. I cherish my alone-time, but I was so lonely and miserable that I tried to book an early flight home on the last day of the conference. Since all my extra money had been going toward wedding expenses, I couldn’t afford the $100 change fee, so I sucked it up and stayed.

Since I’m giving up a three-day weekend to attend this #%$& thing (and many of the attendees are repeats from the horrible Denver trip), I have a small wish list:
1) I want time to sightsee and go shopping.
2) The drinkers should show up in droves and offer to buy a round for everyone.
3) I hate asking strangers to hang out with me, so I hope someone notices my coolness (ha!) and invites me out to dinner so I won’t feel like a loser.
4) I want my bed to have a fluffy white down comforter and tons of pillows. (It happened once, and it was glorious.)
5) I don’t want a skeezy guy at least a decade older than me to attempt to lure me into a bar or his hotel room. Especially when I remind him (repeatedly) that I am married, and so is he.

That’s all.

"Who's Your Date?"
Okay, a couple Friday's ago one of the fraternities near campus had their "Dames and Desperados" Dance which basically is an excuse for crazy hillybilly kids to get their cowboy on. So I had to dress up like a cowgirl (YUCKY, YUCK, YUCK). Well my friend Philip had asked me the previous Sunday. Of course I said yes, because I like a good dance (even though it was country dancing.) Like most frat parties I figured he was just asking to get more people there besides all of the sorority girls that were in attendance. So I asked my super cool roommate to join me on this "Down-home-shindig." As soon as we arrive at the frat house to be bused out (the dance was held by a former Centennial student) my friend ran up to me and mid-hug asked me, "Hayley who's your date?" Okay I look over at Philip and then look at Cassondra and while putting this puzzle together I wip out my Hayley charm and seductively comment, "Well Philip is, but actually he's quite the pimp because he scored TWO dates to this dance!" Philip just smiles and admits that yes, he is the shit. (Pardon my words, but this is all factual) Needless to say I feel like a jerk for the rest of the night and I'm thinking he thinks I'm probably the biggest retard ever.

But of course this story can't be over. I get a phone call from him last Friday and he asks me out again. Well sort of. Boys must assume that when they say "hang out" in casual conversation that I need to know that it's just me and him. Well now I'm catching on to his limited dating lingo. Well, a long time ago when I told him that me and my friends love to go stargazing he tells me that it is stupid. I have faught with him about this numerous times. Anyway so when I ask him what he wants to do he tells me....STARGAZING!!! Oh my word! I freak out here. The problem with Philip is that he is against chick flicks and thinks that only the govenor of California should star in movies (as if anyone really wants to watch Terminator 2 or whatever.) Other than a couple other quirks he is a super cool kid. Of course that's not good enough or something because I just can't bring myself to like him for more than a friend. So back to the topic, he told me that he wanted to take me to an observatory on Saturday night to actually LOOK at the stars.

Well the date didn't end up happening because he didn't call me back (oops!) but as you can see, lately my dating skills have been a bit out of wack.

http://mineminemine.ytmnd.com/

Stuff on my cat
Do you think cats are:
a) cute, cuddly, fuzzy, fun creatures?
b) insane?
c) good for entertainment purposes?
d) all of the above?

If you chose any of those answers, check out www.stuffonmycat.com for hilarious cat pictures. Any site with the motto stuff+cats=awesome rocks my socks off. The Stuff on My Cat t-shirt is on my Christmas wishlist.

COMING SOON: Stuff on My Cat featuring Mr. Blue.

The dancin' queen
I suppose I should set a good example and write a stunning first entry, but I'm tired, grouchy, and out of inspiration for the moment. Therefore, I'll give you a picture instead. This was taken before Linzo's Homecoming dance.