tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31443467256698350212024-03-07T15:51:41.319-08:00Quietly Sipping WineSipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.comBlogger342125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-41343409106886054672023-05-09T19:04:00.003-07:002023-05-09T19:04:34.045-07:00Its been awhile. <p> My last post was August 2011. Its now 2023. My, how things have changed. I don't know where to begin, what to start with, if I should start.</p><p>Yes, I should start. This was always cathartic.</p><p>May 1st 2023, I went on the heart transplant list. What a journey from 2011 to 2023, I wonder what 2035 will hold. </p><p><br /></p>Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-28315199214573019382011-08-01T08:15:00.001-07:002011-08-01T08:18:38.084-07:00Get out of my way.Its incredible to me that people walking on the side walk will blatantly not move over. A party of three walking shoulder to shoulder will stare you down if you are walking towards them. What in the world? I'm pretty sure the city pays for the sidewalk not you. I actually ran into a tree today trying to get out of the way of three, obese, middle aged, ugly, people.<div><br /></div><div>Do you hate that I'm young and skinny?</div>Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-77926961757886887532011-07-24T15:09:00.001-07:002011-07-24T15:12:29.277-07:00For the first time in my life I'm sort of dating someone.... with a kid.<div>I'm not quite sure on how to handle it. I haven't met this kid yet and I already have trepidation towards what will happen when I do. A kid is ... permanent. What if it doesn't like me? What if it likes me too much and then we part our ways? What if I grow attached and then we split?</div><div>It's a new playing field for me.</div><div>It's scary enough starting a relationship. This kid business feels like my fledgling relationship is already weighted. </div>Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-22501347916497876782011-07-22T09:32:00.002-07:002011-07-22T10:24:35.736-07:00Is this thing on?<span class="Apple-style-span" >Its been so long since I've written anything that it seems pointless to try to "catch up" with anyone who still reads this. So I'm just going to start, today, and write again. I have a new laptop and some time finally on my hands. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >I still work at The Black Sparrow. (an update, but not really)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Fledgling relationships are always interesting. I became friends and then later "siblings" with a guy whom I work with. I was seeing someone at the time, but honestly, I loved the guy. Not in that "secretly I wish I was with you but I'm not" sort of scenario. I loved him for him. To justify that feeling and still show that I was deeply committed to my significant other, I started calling him my brother. Drunk one night, I told him how I felt, and explained I had no intention of ever dating him, but that I really just loved him for him. Maybe that was stupid to do, but alcohol feeds honesty.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >He soon after added me on Facebook as his sister and I accepted that he was my brother via a social website.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Then the divorce hit. I still don't know what happened. He went on vacation with me, told me it was the best vacation ever, talked about buying a car with me, we had just purchased renters insurance together, one day later he left me without telling me why. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >I was a wreck.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >4 days after the break up, I had finally weaned myself off of booze and had switched to anti-depressants and happy pills. A friend invited me over to watch tv (she was worried sick about me) and while she was playing on Facebook, messaged my "brother" and asked what he had done for his "sister" in all this mess.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >He came over shortly after to support his "sister."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >It was a normal evening, they did a couple round of shots, while I laid on the couch in a Clonazepam haze, we watched True Blood, and then it was time for my friend to go to sleep. She asked my brother if he wanted to stay and he agreed. I laid down on one couch and him on the other. He started whispering to me in the dark and telling me how things would be better soon for me.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >I got up, walked over and curled up against him. He held me, I told him I loved him, he said it back and then it went all haywire.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >I slept with my brother.</span></div>Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-15303563128162252082010-12-28T22:05:00.000-08:002010-12-28T22:25:23.662-08:00Are you Type A,B, or C?<span class="Apple-style-span" >There are three types of people in this world when it comes to restaurants:</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Type A:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Arrives to a restaurant, sits down, gets greeted, then proceeds to talk and not look at a menu. When they finally get around to looking at the menu, and decide on what they want, they are pissed as hell that the server is not immediately at their table to take their order. I'll call this type, "The world revolves around me." After getting their order in, they will chug their waters as fast as they can and repeat the above process with their refills. TWRAM are horrible people to wait on and usually tip like crap no matter how many water refills they get.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Type B:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Arrives to a restaurant, sits down, gets greeted, orders drinks, by the time the server gets back with said drinks, orders food and lets the server know if they want extras (side ranch, no tomato, etc.) and are completely happy even if their drinks get a little low or their waters need refilling. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Tip like rock stars.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Type C:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Arrives to a restaurant....</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Then A, take forever to sit downv(should we sit here? or here?), or B sits down immediately.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Gets greeted....</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Then A, orders drinks or B, can't decide on anything but is polite about it.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Server gets back with drinks, (finally, or immediately)....</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Then A, One can't decide on something so server has to come back, or B orders food.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Server checks on them from time to time....</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Then A, orders more drinks, B, suddenly remembers they want a side of ranch</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Server brings food...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Then A, orders more drinks, or B, suddenly remembers they want a side of ranch</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Server brings check....</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Then A, pays, B, suddenly wants separate checks, C, wants more drinks instead.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >It's a love/hate thing with Type C. Sometimes they tip well, making every indecision worth it. Sometimes they don't, making you never want to wait on them again.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Luckily, with my job, if I don't want to wait on you, I don't have too. Shitty tip? No thanks, I'll even tell you that to your face. Awesome customer? I'll actually wait on you before three other people in the crowd.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >You know what this means?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >300 dollars on a Tuesday night and home by one A.M.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >My rent is 400 + all utilities.</span></div>Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-53329857630284119812010-12-28T15:31:00.000-08:002010-12-28T16:00:36.817-08:00I've always had a back-up apartment. I've lived with two guys (meaning most of the stuff went into their place but not all), I've had drawers at five guy's places, and I've always had an apartment. The two guys I lived with always wanted me to bring the rest of my stuff over and move in officially, but in the back of my brain there was always a flashing red light, "Warning, SipsWine, Warning."<div><br /></div><div>So based on the above, it comes with monumental satisfaction, to say, "I'm moving in with Ben." It took only 28 years to feel comfortable enough with someone, to move in when they asked.</div><div><br /></div><div>Needless to say, the experience is very new for me, and Ben is having a blast laughing at my questions and hesitations.</div><div>Me: So what are we going to do with chest of drawers?</div><div>Ben: Put it next to mine.</div><div>Me: But then we'll have two.</div><div>Ben: Is your chest of drawers full of clothes?</div><div>Me: Yes.</div><div>Ben: Then I guess we need two.</div><div><br /></div><div>Or.</div><div><br /></div><div>Me: Where will I hang my Audrey Hepburn pictures?</div><div>Ben: On the wall.</div><div>Me: Which one?</div><div>Ben: I don't care, any of them.</div><div>Me: But, which one do you want them on so they are out of your way?</div><div>Ben: Honey, this is your apartment now. I want them wherever you want them.</div><div><br /></div><div>It'll take some getting use too.</div>Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-24041898934191129522010-12-25T20:16:00.000-08:002010-12-25T20:22:03.039-08:00Big Gift vs. Small Gift.Every year, for the last 28 of my life, my parents have gotten my brother and I a "big gift." That could mean an actual big gift (my dollhouse that my dad made for me when I was 6 or 7) or a "big" gift (like my American Girl's doll when there was only Molly, Kristin, and Samantha). Either way, my brother and I would open presents and then go find our "big gift."<div><br /></div><div>This year, my brother and I decided that a "big" gift was in order for my parents who had a 1997 27 inch tv in their living room.</div><div><br /></div><div>500 dollars later, we had a 32 inch (only size that would fit into their entertainment center), 1080, LCD, LED TV for them.</div><div><br /></div><div>My mom and dad have not stopped talking about it since.</div><div>It's a nice feeling to give back some of what you've received. </div><div><br /></div><div>Merry Christmas everyone.</div>Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-49179923855623003972010-12-25T13:28:00.000-08:002010-12-25T13:40:44.702-08:00ONE RING TO RULE THEM ALL.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfqM_9GXcp1T1dtUEbZPvrzYPdcas2BE2oBja_Q7q3KYasyHyEbUAPpjgsQk9qOpJ_vLVtNGXXsNYRs5RrKBAvw3X31Yl_uz3Fg9NI0YZg-FXmGfYzhk9fprCHGkPSjit0YFehgFKG2e7A/s1600/wed.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfqM_9GXcp1T1dtUEbZPvrzYPdcas2BE2oBja_Q7q3KYasyHyEbUAPpjgsQk9qOpJ_vLVtNGXXsNYRs5RrKBAvw3X31Yl_uz3Fg9NI0YZg-FXmGfYzhk9fprCHGkPSjit0YFehgFKG2e7A/s200/wed.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554738068885538530" /></a><br /><div><br /></div>Long story.<div>I forgot my Google password. </div><div>I hadn't posted in awhile, still remembering my password, posted, promptly forgot password. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm 27 and have selective Alzheimer's. </div><div><br /></div><div>Then I was reading <a href="http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/">Hyperbole and a half</a> and decided that her newest post was the most amazing post I had ever read and magically, I remembered my password.</div><div><br /></div><div>I REMEMBERED! </div><div><br /></div><div>Not only that, I have a laptop, which means I can type out posts NO MATTER WHERE I AM.</div><div><br /></div><div>So the last year was a waste. The man I dated dumped me and then decided 4 months later that he actually wanted me and thought we'd be good as man and wife. I use "man and wife" because this decision was based solely on what he felt and in no reference to my happiness and well being.</div><div>Therefore, it was a man decision to require a wife to cook and clean for him, because I'm sure about 4 months after I was out of his life he suddenly realized he had had only pizza, wings, and chinese food to eat and was sitting in his own filth.</div><div>I look really good then.</div><div><br /></div><div>I took one look at him and said, "no."</div><div><br /></div><div>He took it as I would rather be with the ridiculously handsome and same aged boyfriend I was seeing and not the fact that I didn't want to aspire to clean and cook for him the rest of my life.</div><div><br /></div><div>Men are sometimes stupid.</div>Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-10477144660328745122009-09-03T22:01:00.000-07:002009-09-10T14:46:51.749-07:00Birthday boy<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.ecobedroom.com/shop/pillows/images/pillows.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 389px;" src="http://www.ecobedroom.com/shop/pillows/images/pillows.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" >Part two still is coming.... its kind of exhausting to sum up 6 months of my life here and there. </span> <span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" >;)</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /><br />"What did you get him for his birthday?"<br />"Pillows."<br />"What? Really?"<br />"Before you judge let me tell you that the first time he spent the night at my apartment, he went on and on non-stop about how my down-filled pillows were superior to his foam ones. Last night, he did the same thing and then commented about he needed to get down filled ones."<br />"Ah, I see now."<br />"Yea, I am nervous all the same about the gift, I don't know how he'll take it."<br />"I'm sure anything you give him he'll like."<br />"Damn, I should have gotten him a dvd."<br /><br />Flash forward.<br /><br />"So what did you get me for my birthday?"<br />"Who says I got you anything?"<br />"You did, two nights ago."<br />"Damn, Hold on."<br />I left and got the pillows, I had only tied a blue ribbon around them, wrapping pillows seems impossible.<br />"Here."<br />I handed him the pillows and simultaneously watched his reaction. He was surprised at first and them a huge smile crossed his face.<br />"The good pillows like your bed?"<br />I nodded.<br />"I went to Bed Bath and Beyond today..."<br />My heart sunk.<br />"...I went there to look to see how much they were and how much better sheets were."<br />"Oh?" I said only to keep the story going.<br />"I decided that I should get the sheets but not the pillows because they were like 40 to 50 bucks a pop and I decided I could do without them. Even if I really wanted them."<br />He looked up and smiled at me.<br />"I needed to waste 80 bucks on you for your birthday." I said and smiled back.<br />"I'm really glad you did."<br />"Me too."<br />"Did you talk to my mom about this?"<br />The question caught me off guard completely, "What, no?"<br />"Well she said she was getting me a new comforter and curtains for my birthday."<br /><br />Apparently all minds think alike when it comes to the man I'm dating.</span>Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-25043391070741463312009-09-01T07:59:00.000-07:002009-09-01T08:10:07.025-07:00One year in the life of QSW.<span style="font-size:130%;">Since we got the dog in June of last year, And it is/was August of this year.<br />I have one year to cover.<br /><br /></span><blockquote><span style="font-size:130%;">"Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up. Buttercup is marry' Humperdinck in a little less than half an hour. So all we have to do is get in, break up the wedding, steal the princess, make our escape... after I kill Count Rugen."</span></blockquote><span style="font-size:130%;"><br />Mr. Lust and I continued.<br />Mr. Lust started getting more and more violent.<br />Mr. Lust doubled his work load and started watching his family's company lose profit all the same.<br />He started taking it out on me.<br />At first it was screaming and yelling over stupid things, like, "You said you would be home from work at this hour, and it was 30 minutes later," which would erupt into WWIII.<br />Then it was throwing things at walls.<br />Then it was throwing things at my direction.<br />Then it was throwing objects at the wall that I happened to be in (Aka, the recliner and me into the wall).<br />Then I got scared to leave him, or somehow I was always sucked back in.<br />Then finally, finally, he hit me in the back of the head and threw me down outside his house in front of a busy road. Cars slowed down to watch. I sobbed. And I finally woke up and grew the balls (pardon my French) to dump him and move out.<br />Two of my closest friends drove me to his house while he was at a baseball game, and we packed me and loaded up my friend's car in less than 30 minutes.<br />I got back to my apartment, which I hadn't really been in for a year, and unloaded it.<br />I think I shook the entire time.<br />There were a lot of nasty phone calls and texts after that from him, but thankfully it was pretty much over.<br /><br />Part two coming soon...</span>Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-1934363661478029442009-07-19T23:31:00.001-07:002009-07-19T23:33:16.118-07:00Anyone still out there?Recently I was in Charleston visiting my brother when I realized that without moving I had broken a sweat.<br />So hot.<br />We (my brother and a couple friends) went to a pizza place where we loaded our pizza with hot sauce and cooled our breath with beer.<br />How is it that Southern people can eat so many hot things and not sweat like a stuck pig?Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-26995945772892077992008-09-16T13:39:00.001-07:002008-09-16T13:40:03.761-07:00Die hard fans.It seems that 200 - 300 of you still come here once a month.<br />If you like my writing, please e-mail me at <a href="mailto:quietlysippingwine@yahoo.com">quietlysippingwine@yahoo.com</a>Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-49807836980890508592008-08-12T11:33:00.000-07:002008-08-12T11:34:38.045-07:00Too Much?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_rERvSSbay7pF8fvB5DkDsmYJozh-vmABUbQwrVOz1mWVG1UN8psF0pDgAQ073YZKggIJkBEhqYBLhTfti9l3mMWgS4Z6ExinJQlvK3BnK6I_t7KL_NoDldocbYLUUAbivR1dEA9VAVdt/s1600-h/whyilike.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_rERvSSbay7pF8fvB5DkDsmYJozh-vmABUbQwrVOz1mWVG1UN8psF0pDgAQ073YZKggIJkBEhqYBLhTfti9l3mMWgS4Z6ExinJQlvK3BnK6I_t7KL_NoDldocbYLUUAbivR1dEA9VAVdt/s320/whyilike.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233701418401340082" border="0" /></a>Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-88053899427933733472008-08-07T07:56:00.000-07:002008-08-07T11:52:03.147-07:00Remember for your papers, John Brown was hanged, not hung. He might have been hung too but that is a different topic.<span style="font-size:130%;">I kissed a girl, just to try it.<br />I hope my boyfriend don't mind it. (doesn't mind it?) </span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmXkCOIWWZahw18Jsd1ghUAoOFgCSWYnr_bbhHK4Y9N52doBSwbRY9-cv8Md-Lwq8xZ4soT5ynsWn4_gEP4M-dYZJdWqoNscg-JUIB-FDi6P9exmjNQlKgcbzo-tWMvv98ATRULzh57Pc6/s1600-h/Untitled-1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231809312174197458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmXkCOIWWZahw18Jsd1ghUAoOFgCSWYnr_bbhHK4Y9N52doBSwbRY9-cv8Md-Lwq8xZ4soT5ynsWn4_gEP4M-dYZJdWqoNscg-JUIB-FDi6P9exmjNQlKgcbzo-tWMvv98ATRULzh57Pc6/s320/Untitled-1.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:130%;">Ok, It's hot that Katy had the balls to talk about the phenomenon where girls get drunk and kiss each other. There has been one time in my life where two guys made out drunk... and trust me, it was not something I wanted to see. Somehow it's hot when straight women do it. Why? I have no idea, in fact, I don't even find it hot, I find it disgusting. The two girls doing it are obviously screaming, "LOOK AT ME! I AM AWESOME!" silently in their heads and when no one heard them decided the only thing left was to make out with each other.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Crazy phenomenon. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Back to Katy and her singing. Why, Why, Why, Katy did you make such an awesome song about this crazy phenomenon and use BAD ENGLISH!? Bill Gates, who is ten times smarter than you, created an awesome program called WORD so that the dumb people of this world would have something to make them at least SOUND SMARTER!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"Don't mean I'm in love tonight?"</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Lets break this down.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><em>Do Not</em> mean I'm in love tonight?</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Does that sound right?</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">NO!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Excuse me, let me use your English so you understand me.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Do that sound right?</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">NO!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">This reminds me in the 90's before Katie Holmes became crazy and decided Mr. LongSchnoz was hot and wanted to have science babies, she starred in a show called Dawson's Creek. The show sucked, and the opening song was a representation of it. I watched all my friends sing, "I don't wanna wait" by Paula Cole, and every time they sang, "And say a little prayer for I" I cringed.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Excuse me, "me cringed" not "I." </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I bet you got confused there for a second.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">REALLY?</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I?</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Not ME?</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I realize it rhymes, but WRITE A DIFFERENT SONG IF IT DOESN'T FIT!</span><br /><br /><em><span style="font-size:130%;">How about this?</span></em><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">From now on, me will right stoopid bad english and see if yous like reading it because many like singing it. Today, me realized that I's wisdom teef started moving again (or maybe I should say, </span><a href="http://deadspin.com/5028245/espn-mum-about-timberlake-shuckin-and-jivin-comments"><span style="font-size:130%;">"shuckin' and jivin'" like Justin Rickilake</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;">). My jaw hurts and booze seemed to helpin' it. Hope aspirin helped it, but was wrong. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Ok, that takes an effort. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Has anyone seen the movie </span><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0387808/"><span style="font-size:130%;">Idiocracy</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;">? Because I don't think I am going to reproduce.</span><br /><br /><em>(WORD hated me on this post.)</em>Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-75296422526003674572008-08-02T08:50:00.000-07:002008-08-02T08:53:40.793-07:00GO AWAY!<span style="font-size:130%;">Last night, I screamed "Go away" and literally kicked a guy away from LeggyBlonde and myself.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">He came back and thats when I really started screaming "GO AWAY" loudly.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I'm only writing this because some of you might be confused by LB's comment below. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">;-)</span>Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-83048143179349271652008-08-01T12:11:00.001-07:002008-08-01T12:29:06.551-07:00The women I work with.<span style="font-size:130%;">Let me just say that it's intimidating to work with such beautiful women at my job.<br />Both of the girls I work with are beautiful in completely different ways making it hard for guys to figure out which one to stare at first.<br /><br />First we have LeggyBlonde:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWmiW1VhiG5C2Ir-S6LdlZ3JlVwxRETlKMpffcUETBvzHeQEfr0dRoTwRQ-wQakHcCIJiwAzmzVN-rD5FtYFfgNsJ8WEKo4xdai4d7jEyOtu05JnMH9CUA6x2nGeLvAIYr6_px-cZY7yy5/s1600-h/2718477304_af81d5cb35.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWmiW1VhiG5C2Ir-S6LdlZ3JlVwxRETlKMpffcUETBvzHeQEfr0dRoTwRQ-wQakHcCIJiwAzmzVN-rD5FtYFfgNsJ8WEKo4xdai4d7jEyOtu05JnMH9CUA6x2nGeLvAIYr6_px-cZY7yy5/s320/2718477304_af81d5cb35.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229629865641614050" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil0gg_4zKXgNXD8Tu23IfP4xbZwoX5KQFp0lnwaMcwkOLphL4AgHX4x8Io3ImDwncd_hRne5_f-4q0Kj4OF5s9TfftwxjKj4QKW0gYe4hYkKJ6LgsJVRM5Sl-8vx5ApnSR8UJHhlpFvntX/s1600-h/2718477298_ba3e5e338d.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil0gg_4zKXgNXD8Tu23IfP4xbZwoX5KQFp0lnwaMcwkOLphL4AgHX4x8Io3ImDwncd_hRne5_f-4q0Kj4OF5s9TfftwxjKj4QKW0gYe4hYkKJ6LgsJVRM5Sl-8vx5ApnSR8UJHhlpFvntX/s320/2718477298_ba3e5e338d.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229629518938291858" border="0" /> </a><br />Second is HelloKitty:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzLTrnBJ-1rwifDifTFaE4e6zqbDE_8Xv1THlIlPzKI3Xp_x4rKbOry7Kmmw3giq8SWzyroimiEg7WRNBkXwmqPMxpHaLJHS3j5k7yAlMAg1LHPmzMqpbU_Ggjaqe9Eo6S1aDRCDysDxMK/s1600-h/2716865099_bcb2f9cf39.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzLTrnBJ-1rwifDifTFaE4e6zqbDE_8Xv1THlIlPzKI3Xp_x4rKbOry7Kmmw3giq8SWzyroimiEg7WRNBkXwmqPMxpHaLJHS3j5k7yAlMAg1LHPmzMqpbU_Ggjaqe9Eo6S1aDRCDysDxMK/s320/2716865099_bcb2f9cf39.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229630778230976562" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwtNRgsmK-XOnqyxAeiv9pjHyYJxiDYsmErvY8aoocQ_DjG9KK6Wawo7qSs2zT872IGfAgcHjUUM7CkfFM7LIphZBEbp0uzwQqp5Yfaxb_5jpfvnMpScEUHazAE20tyHFR_qTe3SvhF2AO/s1600-h/2717451624_d69b6e17ec.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwtNRgsmK-XOnqyxAeiv9pjHyYJxiDYsmErvY8aoocQ_DjG9KK6Wawo7qSs2zT872IGfAgcHjUUM7CkfFM7LIphZBEbp0uzwQqp5Yfaxb_5jpfvnMpScEUHazAE20tyHFR_qTe3SvhF2AO/s320/2717451624_d69b6e17ec.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229630695642627842" border="0" /></a>Both of these women are strikingly beautiful but the amazing thing about them is their personalities. While very different, they still both have qualities that continue to impress me and make me want to be more like them. <br />LeggyBlonde is very down to earth who laughs easily at silly jokes I make and seems to catch the eye of multiple men who then become frequents at the bar making the rest of us uncomfortable for her. She of course brushes it off like she hasn't attracted anyone and we are all full of it. One of the many things I love about her. Once you become her friend you can count on her to hold all your secrets. Even ones you didn't expect her to hold secret, she just lets your business be yours and no one elses. Its an impressive quality which I don't possess.<br />HelloKitty, who is called that because of her love of her pet kittens, is equally as beautiful and tends to have a no-nonsense attitude to just about everything. She's finds it easy to tell someone with the utmost politeness to bugger off if she doesn't find their company pleasing. I never could do that and I'd find myself in very bad situations. Once you've become her friend she always goes out of her way to compliment or make you laugh when your day would be otherwise crummy.<br /><br />Of course, both of these women are taken and by gentlemen who are worthy of their attention.<br />Its no matter to me, I don't want to date them, but I feel bad for all the men who I've just disappointed. </span>Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-801311475876311182008-07-29T13:35:00.000-07:002008-07-29T13:59:09.866-07:00Let's play a game...<span style="font-size:130%;">... I'll name four people that I would sleep with, as long as there were no strings attached, (except maybe a fantasy disappearing), then you name your four.<br />Why four? Three is standard, and five is too much.<br /><br />Numero Uno: George Clooney.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.ecorazzi.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/01/clooney1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.ecorazzi.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/01/clooney1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />You might find this one odd, if you do, you obviously haven't seen the next three. I like older movies, and George Clooney reminds me of Cary Grant except straight. I couldn't put Cary Grant down because he's dead and I'm not into necrofilia.<br /><br />Numero Dos: Paolo Nutini<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.paolonutinimusic.com/pics/paolo_nutini_superstar.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.paolonutinimusic.com/pics/paolo_nutini_superstar.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Some of you right now are concerned for my sanity, having stated Georgy as number one and Paolo as number two, I understand. What can I say? I like variety and shoes, and he's different from George and sings about new shoes.<br /><br />Number Three: Jim Sturgess<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i204.photobucket.com/albums/bb224/eatmahass/Jim%20Sturgess/JimSturgess11.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://i204.photobucket.com/albums/bb224/eatmahass/Jim%20Sturgess/JimSturgess11.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I would actually cut off my left foot to sleep with this man. Ooo... bite that finger... you know you want some QSW. This man is just HOTT in my book, that's right he has two Ts in his HOTT. He's also somewhat of a combo between Paolo and George... look at those expressive eyes and skinny tie. I love skinny ties. I have many things to do with skinny ties....<br />...I digress.<br /><br />Number Four: Robert Downey Jr.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb4AGLdNe_AxIOizHnOtGHNke2mdscsM8Z-hlwnnuAZB0utNHaZQR8zHPpisJy83a0K3n4kFVSoBd3iHH_wkH2is7nIoXs1UWdMPDuKlkZJOTcJDuJnUSryHYUQIwgqvwRVSMBJX_ln7VN/s1600-h/tn2_robert_downey_jr_1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb4AGLdNe_AxIOizHnOtGHNke2mdscsM8Z-hlwnnuAZB0utNHaZQR8zHPpisJy83a0K3n4kFVSoBd3iHH_wkH2is7nIoXs1UWdMPDuKlkZJOTcJDuJnUSryHYUQIwgqvwRVSMBJX_ln7VN/s320/tn2_robert_downey_jr_1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228541411260994962" border="0" /></a><br />On a recent drunk Friday night my friend Amanda and I sipped some Stoli and discussed what made Robbie so incredibly lustful in our books. What we came up with? Obtainability. I just made up a word to describe Robbie, that's how awesome he is. He looks like a guy that you could walk up to in a bar and sit down and have a successful night of receiving a phone number, or whatever you were trying to obtain, from I really hot man. Girls like it when they have the upper hand. Robbie looks like the kind of guy that would let you make all the moves and he'd fall into your hands.<br />Yea... thats it. I'm getting hot just thinking about it.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Now your turn, if you comment, you have to name four guys or girls (or both?) that you'd put in your list.</span><br /></span>Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-3898471079737217432008-07-28T19:23:00.001-07:002008-07-28T19:25:19.389-07:00ARGH<span style="font-size:130%;">Sometimes, even though I love him, I want to pull his hair out.<br />Sometimes, even though I like his family, I want them to disappear.<br />Sometimes, I think really bad things, and then I am humbled when simple acts of kindness are given.<br />Above all, I love the puppy.</span>Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-68357773973965888232008-07-24T11:04:00.000-07:002008-07-24T12:38:10.118-07:00All you have to do is show some tits...<span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" class="speakerlabel" >Girl</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >:</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> Who are you dating now?<br /></span><span class="speakerline" style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;" class="speakerlabel">Guy</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">:</span> I don't know if you'd call it dating, but I met a stripper that comes over around midnight, gets me high, sucks my dick, we fuck, I fall asleep and when I wake up, she's gone.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span class="speakerline" style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;" class="speakerlabel">Random eavesdropper</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">:</span> Dude, marry that bitch!<br /><br />WiscoBlonde and LeggyBlonde might be the only two to understand this post to it's fullest. The fact that they are both blonde has nothing to do with it.<br />If you are female and you are a bartender, somehow, you become a goddess in the eyes of the drunk men you serve. You could have the worst personality, worst hair, you could spit in the trash can, but the minute you flip out two shot glasses and start pouring some concoction into it, they want to hump you from sundown to sunrise. I know alcohol has a little bit to do with it, but as a server I don't have this much attention and as just a drunk guest I have little to no attention. So it really has something to do with being the one who pours the alcohol.<br /><br />I have a little bit of an ego problem, that I never had or dreamed of before.<br /><br />There was a petition signed by customers at the pub I work at. The petition was for me to break up with Mr. Lust. When I asked why I was suppose to break up with Mr. Lust, they said "because we want a chance with you."<br />I'm not that great.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.goveg.com/feat/sexiestveg2006/images/400-phoenix.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 154px; height: 228px;" src="http://www.goveg.com/feat/sexiestveg2006/images/400-phoenix.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I keep telling myself this.<br />One guy in particular who looks like a knock off of </span><span style="font-size:130%;">Joaquin Phoenix, would not give it up yesterday. He decided to tell random people about how excited he would be if I would break up with Mr. Lust so that we could get married.<br />I kept trying to play it off, especially when the boss-man asked, "Why do you want to marry her?" and I said, "because he wants to see my tits really bad."<br />Mr. Knock-off JP replied with, "No, it runs much deeper than that." Which would have been somewhat sweet if I didn't know that he had had 4 drinks before that.<br /><br />Also, I made a huge mistake. One I will regret for a long time.<br />I went from High school, where people hated me and I hated them, to college where I wasn't hated but I wasn't wild because I had such a low self-esteem from being hated before, to now, where I have forgotten high school, and realized only that I didn't have a very crazy time in college.<br />So, I'm making up for it now.<br />Last Sunday, I went down a water slide top-less in Hello Kitty's back yard. I was WASTED, I actually don't remember doing it, I just remember another girl convincing me to do it. We went inside and then back out, and then thats apparently when we went down topless.<br />I don't doubt that I did it, even if I blacked out.<br />St. Pat came in last night and told me that all the men at the party gave him full details of what my breasts are like.<br />Disturbing.<br />So so so disturbing.<br />Needless to say I think I should stop drinking so much.<br />And to top off all of that...<br />Amanda's boyfriend (on again, off again) tried to go home with me. Granted they are confused anyways, but come on, what girl would go home with her best friend's boyfriend?<br />I don't care if it is on again and off again.<br />Especially when he knew me to be seeing Mr. Lust.<br />Blech.<br /><br /><br />My My... how Quietly Sipping Wine has changed.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-d.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v309/100/43/13716526/n13716526_42352459_6872.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 248px; height: 331px;" src="http://photos-d.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v309/100/43/13716526/n13716526_42352459_6872.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></span>Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-14022013446850761642008-07-17T08:07:00.000-07:002008-07-17T08:45:34.455-07:00can you tell me what was ever really special about me all this time?<span style="font-size:130%;">I'm getting a new desk in my office.</span> <span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I had to clean out the old desk and I found some things that I didn't know where in there. One, a plate from my old roommate's collection, two, the DaVinci Code book, and three pictures of me with Matt. Every picture was either of my friend at the time or of Matt and myself.</span> <span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">It was obvious to me in every picture how happy I was. </span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I muttered, "Sad, pathetic fool," to myself right as my boss walked into my office. My boss paused for a moment and said, "You know I think everyone goes through that."</span> <span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">We didn't say anymore, but that was sufficient, I'll miss her when she leaves to move to California. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">*******************</span> <span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Mr. Lust and I got a puppy. He's a happy healthy German shepherd/rottweiler puppy who eats more than I could imagine and poops even more than that.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><p><span style="font-size:130%;"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3013/2659809945_1b3a8cbd12.jpg" border="0" />Here he is listening to LB talking to him so she can take a picture.</span></p><p><span style="font-size:130%;">I officially move in with Mr. Lust in August. I decided ID needed a year's rent from me, so I will pay him for a year, it also gives me two months to move instead of a week.</span></p><p><span style="font-size:130%;">I need to take pictures of our garden again. The tomatoes are out of control and it looks like "Ooze" took a hold of all the veggies and made them huge.</span></p><p><span style="font-size:130%;">Other news, I opened my purse today to get out cash for Starbucks when I found a screwdriver in my purse. I didn't put it there, so I pulled it out of my purse out of shock. The Starbucks lady and I had moment of looking at each other with a screwdriver in my hand before I shrugged and placed it back in my purse. "I guess I need two cups of coffee in the morning so I don't do that again," I said. The lady smiled in a way that said, "Right, I'll smile because you are trying to make a joke but I still think your crazy."<br /><br />I wonder where that screw driver came from actually.<br /></span></p><p>Who caught the TMNT reference or knows what TMNT means? </p>Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-26785364447573439602008-07-14T20:28:00.000-07:002008-07-14T20:50:51.006-07:00Soap.<span style="font-size:130%;">When I was younger (try age 15) I use to use conditioner on my skin.<br />I don't know if anyone else does this, but I would use soap and then use conditioner right afterwards. In my head I thought, "Well, if its good for my hair and I have hair on my arm, it will be good for my arm."<br />I stopped at some point, I don't remember when, but I do remember how it started.<br />Neil Plantation.<br />No, not his real first last name, but his real first name.<br />Neil was a cross between Colin Firth and Colin Farrell.<br />Take Firth's squareness-hottness:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://upload.moldova.org/movie/actors/c/colin_firth/thumbnails/tn2_colin_firth_1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://upload.moldova.org/movie/actors/c/colin_firth/thumbnails/tn2_colin_firth_1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>And Farrell's intensity: <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.babble.com/CS/blogs/famecrawler/2008/03/16-22/colin_farrell1_300_400.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.babble.com/CS/blogs/famecrawler/2008/03/16-22/colin_farrell1_300_400.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>And you have Neil.... although, I was a 15 year old, things could be exaggerated in my mind.<br /><br />One day in Biology, Neil, while the teacher was talking, grabbed my arm and said, "Wow, QSW, you have really amazing skin," and then went back to pretend to listen to the teacher.<br />That moment changed the way I thought about my skin and it made me go to extreme measures to keep it "amazing" for Neil.<br />That was the day I started my conditioner treatment.<br /><br />Neil and I never dated. Although, most of my high school hated me, he always made it a point to talk to me. He even did what a few would call, "flirting," which was basically complimenting my shirt saying my boobs looked nice in it (I didn't get boobs until I was 18 which is when I got my first boyfriend as well, funny how those things happen). Still, to this day, I remember him and how gorgeous he was, but sadly the conditioner treatment faded a long time ago.<br /><br />What a random thing to think about while in a hotel shower that only had soap that dried out my skin...<br />...forcing me to use conditioner on it.<br /></span>Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-56617987555573217152008-07-13T00:26:00.000-07:002008-07-13T00:33:16.771-07:00Informercial<a href="http://images.broadwayworld.com/photoops/shieldschicago/rookeShieldsBackontheBoards008-vi.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://images.broadwayworld.com/photoops/shieldschicago/rookeShieldsBackontheBoards008-vi.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Most of the time when I get home late from work, I see weird info-mercials before I finally commit to sleep. The things I see are usually credit card debt relievers or something to do with Billy Mays.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Tonight was different.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">I was watching tonight (in between Thomas Crown Affair which I love) an info-mercial that featured a company that would help out with dead-beat parents paying for child support.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">The end line said, "If you are serious about receiving your child-support please call now."</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">What I'm curious about, how serious?</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Does this company break legs? Torture things? Mr. Lust explained to me in the shower how to torture someone with a bucket, rat, and blow torch.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">You don't want to know.</span><br /></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Do they do something like that to get child support? How serious do you have to be to get that treatment for your ex-significant other?</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">A company like that could make a killing, maybe even get Billy Mays to sign on for that ride.</span></div><br /><div></div>Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-34518537452981150572008-07-08T10:31:00.001-07:002008-07-08T10:32:34.533-07:00My personality<div align="center"><div style="WIDTH: 200px; LINE-HEIGHT: 1px"><embed src="http://widgets.youniverse.com/personality_portrait.swf" width="200" height="389" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" flashvars="clickstream=d2415f82be7cff4eee0d88275b611a0f"></embed><a style="PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; WIDTH: 200px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; HEIGHT: 21px" href="http://www.youniverse.com/personality/feedback/d2415f82be7cff4eee0d88275b611a0f"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: medium none; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none" height="21" alt="Youniverse Personality Test" src="http://widgets.youniverse.com/bottom_links_tall_top.gif" width="200" border="0" /></a><a style="PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px" href="http://www.youniverse.com/personality"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: medium none; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none" height="36" alt="Youniverse Personality Test" src="http://widgets.youniverse.com/bottom_links_tall_bottom.gif" width="200" border="0" /></a></div></div>Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-74986763446648792922008-07-07T18:55:00.000-07:002008-07-08T09:13:25.934-07:00Picture Central<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWUNSaocpBXl2faKknfZBNRHvJT9-k2xOkS82d6Uu0rekDaIMTamccaGy_KhrnMebivHwb-T9Yf4JBV10gID4OQyTlvFjqK_SuiORGTZILgwh6eEOKZ36dftzP_tktcb6luBDe8cI4zMUM/s1600-h/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+005.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWUNSaocpBXl2faKknfZBNRHvJT9-k2xOkS82d6Uu0rekDaIMTamccaGy_KhrnMebivHwb-T9Yf4JBV10gID4OQyTlvFjqK_SuiORGTZILgwh6eEOKZ36dftzP_tktcb6luBDe8cI4zMUM/s320/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220456297438694754" border="0" /></a>FN and QSW at 8:30 in the morning before a Cubs game.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWaHmaT8XB3NAsM7CTsNrYy0rktdW6ktgUeB9sqEMFEc7iNI8S0VYUX_ZY7CNKfeHq4Jscx78NnXTbQKqJotcMWmgBgszEyJE9R1of6Noqk7-3lAa0bEOfEafElzzTMoo-NWUYFjz00xtz/s1600-h/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+012.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWaHmaT8XB3NAsM7CTsNrYy0rktdW6ktgUeB9sqEMFEc7iNI8S0VYUX_ZY7CNKfeHq4Jscx78NnXTbQKqJotcMWmgBgszEyJE9R1of6Noqk7-3lAa0bEOfEafElzzTMoo-NWUYFjz00xtz/s320/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220474352497292146" border="0" /></a>Outside Wrigley Field at the Cubby Bear Pub where we had a suite for free.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuwqDJ3gFZ6vt2Zvw7iKVtah6EkdmaMTxytDdOR_C4d8lRyecRzI-AaedOHQac_Cyn-v8B0JL9IjtpoNPnEYVKPJ8sIq80KJ1_GDqrPC7NUeFFIAAVVAIPk3p-wzwWzFv4smNjDKJc85jW/s1600-h/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+084.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuwqDJ3gFZ6vt2Zvw7iKVtah6EkdmaMTxytDdOR_C4d8lRyecRzI-AaedOHQac_Cyn-v8B0JL9IjtpoNPnEYVKPJ8sIq80KJ1_GDqrPC7NUeFFIAAVVAIPk3p-wzwWzFv4smNjDKJc85jW/s320/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+084.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220458230631091890" border="0" /></a>Instead of Taste of Tippecanoe, LB and I went to a party with a bouncy castle, so much better.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE-Em02N23eAxGnHlIM6Ypp-H7fk4_erjO9n7S0OaDA8s8JDMFvQV36OZSrTCbwCLlO2ZcYI2PnKMZyp1tffD0IZVyDxSPWb4lrcS3ApN_NEQNemjLTAnblKUnCoJoBM76U3jupv1Vj5cD/s1600-h/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+077.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE-Em02N23eAxGnHlIM6Ypp-H7fk4_erjO9n7S0OaDA8s8JDMFvQV36OZSrTCbwCLlO2ZcYI2PnKMZyp1tffD0IZVyDxSPWb4lrcS3ApN_NEQNemjLTAnblKUnCoJoBM76U3jupv1Vj5cD/s320/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+077.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220457863732167682" border="0" /></a>Sometimes you have to bask in the bouncy castle glory.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjRJpPuf4nHaw6e6V0bBkI26Lz8YAKCu5rfAVZuCXs62zY0ZFjyBjlFgzNBV53R4dq7VGnzI8raHs8yJDa5RhzWkaSiJ_bO8APhk3YNW9leuCYtTWjJej_DYhcXGflAuIM83TmJDLgAHi6/s1600-h/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+088.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjRJpPuf4nHaw6e6V0bBkI26Lz8YAKCu5rfAVZuCXs62zY0ZFjyBjlFgzNBV53R4dq7VGnzI8raHs8yJDa5RhzWkaSiJ_bO8APhk3YNW9leuCYtTWjJej_DYhcXGflAuIM83TmJDLgAHi6/s320/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+088.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220458603922156594" border="0" /></a>HelloKitty and Magic being crazy at the Sparrow!<br /><br /><object height="244" width="325"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jI9kRnE4Dyo&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jI9kRnE4Dyo&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="244" width="325"></embed></object>LB, HK, and I being silly at the Sparrow.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg97qHXOyUMkvmxHxKxVDeimKK21L4WswB0-ZlZFFkgn_RK3S4-wIn44MrPPozCbmEO3haPUnghxUngkrzrjSEVgrNGhmhXEeC1md57uzpvcwYyCx4_2xMWxrs-Zn4tnDIvTGkxp6R0FMX1/s1600-h/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+133.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg97qHXOyUMkvmxHxKxVDeimKK21L4WswB0-ZlZFFkgn_RK3S4-wIn44MrPPozCbmEO3haPUnghxUngkrzrjSEVgrNGhmhXEeC1md57uzpvcwYyCx4_2xMWxrs-Zn4tnDIvTGkxp6R0FMX1/s320/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+133.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220466961474735874" border="0" /></a>LB in a pause from picture taking. ;-)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwap_0gWdPyJLXVMppPYRG_9xBBjYiP84JUusiHGg_qoJvaLBXtFVUXOdcRCxGZ9TElIGv_ry1y7Qzn9JJB5HABaGSsv9jkYBMrcqso1nEUoT5PuMCnDaFkpMT_4CAvuLgdkgtzgR3uTPv/s1600-h/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+142.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwap_0gWdPyJLXVMppPYRG_9xBBjYiP84JUusiHGg_qoJvaLBXtFVUXOdcRCxGZ9TElIGv_ry1y7Qzn9JJB5HABaGSsv9jkYBMrcqso1nEUoT5PuMCnDaFkpMT_4CAvuLgdkgtzgR3uTPv/s320/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+142.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220467812246174050" border="0" /></a>In Canada, my phone did this all week. I couldn't call out, people couldn't call in.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_nU-WHGiDWTxK3MC_0cx6mojjXOHH1UkAH0hiqA-cdcgF7CKvBOEWSGi-RA5q6BnI3HEVHdK0uMOu14tgEhgVJwP_kO_9tMgW2ZqHhDlA-BeAIxNuWtcQvGFM5-ctw35U5ld36o1zTpLb/s1600-h/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+149.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_nU-WHGiDWTxK3MC_0cx6mojjXOHH1UkAH0hiqA-cdcgF7CKvBOEWSGi-RA5q6BnI3HEVHdK0uMOu14tgEhgVJwP_kO_9tMgW2ZqHhDlA-BeAIxNuWtcQvGFM5-ctw35U5ld36o1zTpLb/s320/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+149.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220468532233873234" border="0" /></a>The cabin is on the hill and the sauna is at the bottom of the hill by the lake.<br /><br /><object width="325" height="244"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/eUHLSIdbsCo&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/eUHLSIdbsCo&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="325" height="244"></embed></object>Crazy German chopping wood. It's scary what Germans do after winning against the Turks.<br /><br /><object width="325" height="250"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2N94Wstx5u4"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2N94Wstx5u4" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="325" height="250"> </embed> </object>Part Deux<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk5lR4eNGL-aS10O4lXXDQvFsOZx-_nQMyTwxg-IqCe_6J8djwhsq5ivU7IdSEi4hIPY4etlJOeXYfiYtoW6NmlRlq8YWjnll4rdUJqls4Iw7YZ-8B76mkCJ5lZCvd37rIdUwN4_uht9IJ/s1600-h/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+135.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk5lR4eNGL-aS10O4lXXDQvFsOZx-_nQMyTwxg-IqCe_6J8djwhsq5ivU7IdSEi4hIPY4etlJOeXYfiYtoW6NmlRlq8YWjnll4rdUJqls4Iw7YZ-8B76mkCJ5lZCvd37rIdUwN4_uht9IJ/s320/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+135.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220467514713498386" border="0" /></a>We picked flowers. With an Argo. To outrun the mosquitoes.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFod1YOXJcUaYRb8VYd6vW_9WDcT62GNdeCluKJNotGrhPTd6XDvznr-SicbSmU1GgV6IADYB5L0PKPuhEIO7TzdwW-Bx7STHZR5nUGEtL31OTKRQQVCV_5AgI7kfZvwz9Oc1__rppv9NL/s1600-h/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+156.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFod1YOXJcUaYRb8VYd6vW_9WDcT62GNdeCluKJNotGrhPTd6XDvznr-SicbSmU1GgV6IADYB5L0PKPuhEIO7TzdwW-Bx7STHZR5nUGEtL31OTKRQQVCV_5AgI7kfZvwz9Oc1__rppv9NL/s320/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+156.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220469053686712226" border="0" /></a>View of the cabin from the boat we were sitting in.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrLtiTeZwK5y-Im5D00dthPkeMsy1dgRyf90imE-dxww7viSpDfoSsypTjMRw_8P6YxKOiPP-bMm4UZttmfZ0_d6MCvZLu_-YKUCxqAyvE5hA991MsLQV_fcL5_POBFCy4s5jzQpRO6bzW/s1600-h/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+176.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrLtiTeZwK5y-Im5D00dthPkeMsy1dgRyf90imE-dxww7viSpDfoSsypTjMRw_8P6YxKOiPP-bMm4UZttmfZ0_d6MCvZLu_-YKUCxqAyvE5hA991MsLQV_fcL5_POBFCy4s5jzQpRO6bzW/s320/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+176.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220469491757267298" border="0" /></a>We lived by the grill, Mr. Lust was only demonstrating.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHgP6Kt8xsYkl5v_PU_7fVNwaYlgsftS1rXottWKchRqmnxABsHvezWLo7-PhkjiCgGLO_PVOMHAqxdJcmG3V_gzAd1onhJWj9Dz0FTBmHZ0iP6SQv_xtElTMY4F3q2REMdCTpWgoevbOA/s1600-h/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+181.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHgP6Kt8xsYkl5v_PU_7fVNwaYlgsftS1rXottWKchRqmnxABsHvezWLo7-PhkjiCgGLO_PVOMHAqxdJcmG3V_gzAd1onhJWj9Dz0FTBmHZ0iP6SQv_xtElTMY4F3q2REMdCTpWgoevbOA/s320/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+181.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220469851963235922" border="0" /></a>We took the waverunner to this rock, Mr. Lust didn't know he was posing for me.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY0IURWxdklJn6nBdo-3LqPF3IkOXmyBGM5dRpLRo5VOzEsrzAlgKxyt5ncnE7-lH9MPt0bYIks1bVnddkGB2Zlyh_r8BpiuQvbS5c7UWHypBQe0T_y8NydlBuLjQbYCOYHGVfEWjAN4bi/s1600-h/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+200.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY0IURWxdklJn6nBdo-3LqPF3IkOXmyBGM5dRpLRo5VOzEsrzAlgKxyt5ncnE7-lH9MPt0bYIks1bVnddkGB2Zlyh_r8BpiuQvbS5c7UWHypBQe0T_y8NydlBuLjQbYCOYHGVfEWjAN4bi/s320/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+200.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220472793424935730" border="0" /></a>Mr. Lust's family met us at the cabin halfway through the vacation, here his little brother seems to be beating him in arm wrestling. ;-)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmyDm_DzxlR8aI38vZNnCnzmk7qPsN4fGW5ihZosLHflcp-ZQhrXQSF3rbrZPxzMO2g1w82b-3l4tBzqVIjYpfZv3Kd55SWYrePt08dTeihfrThFYKu5t99NawBHVoFJppd2Nol4CRkDZi/s1600-h/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+205.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmyDm_DzxlR8aI38vZNnCnzmk7qPsN4fGW5ihZosLHflcp-ZQhrXQSF3rbrZPxzMO2g1w82b-3l4tBzqVIjYpfZv3Kd55SWYrePt08dTeihfrThFYKu5t99NawBHVoFJppd2Nol4CRkDZi/s320/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+205.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220473211213604034" border="0" /></a>My first fish. Ever. I was so proud, I wouldn't even touch it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqVD15l7yfavspFkynJAyXW5fUKKEzLCdHoQ-lTBFeV-qKus-QsY6o3ZzZcYFy0ukSPz9pOsQgq_a4Xw2y9T43is2JIlx7mrMK5j3tXSdnV8qNSF4Fnxqp-DFTQ8Vy3NRAamEyuDG9Hn09/s1600-h/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+250.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqVD15l7yfavspFkynJAyXW5fUKKEzLCdHoQ-lTBFeV-qKus-QsY6o3ZzZcYFy0ukSPz9pOsQgq_a4Xw2y9T43is2JIlx7mrMK5j3tXSdnV8qNSF4Fnxqp-DFTQ8Vy3NRAamEyuDG9Hn09/s320/Cubs+and+Sparrow+and+Vacation+250.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220473639750058610" border="0" /></a>Brothers. It was just a cute picture.<br /><br />Pictures of the new puppy coming soon...<br /></div>Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3144346725669835021.post-65375090893078938082008-07-03T11:55:00.000-07:002008-07-03T11:57:30.330-07:00Vacation<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><blockquote><span style="font-size:130%;">Vacation was great.<br />So many things happening, that I will post more later.<br />Love,<br />QSW</span></blockquote></span><br /></div>Sipwinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13065774180639657595noreply@blogger.com0