Listen to the girl as she takes on half the world

VOTE

Thu, 26 Mar 2009 20:56:05 GMT

vote for my dog Zoe.

http://www.moderndogmagazine.com/photocontest/dogs/09/03/26/zoe

Long Time No Post

Wed, 25 Feb 2009 16:33:15 GMT

It's been a while since I've posted here. I've been working at a new job as a Quality Assurance Supervisor. I assist with house checks at all 15 of the adult foster care homes in our company and I also get to slap their hands with reprimands, and fire them even. I answer crisis calls like my old job, and help with training. I do a lot of paperwork as well. So that consumes half my time, and the other half of the time I am in classes.

Classes... Let me tell you...

the past year and a half I left from school and came back... Designers have totally changed. Perhaps it's my experiences in school and out that have changed me but today in my classes they all seem to have this arrogance that they are incredible designers and can get away with saying shitty things to people who give them feedback.

This girl really wants her logo for herself to be a lightening bolt. I suggested she design her name into the shape of a lightening bolt and I referred to her previous work in other classes and I get this response "Ohh, someone is a fan of my work."

WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?

I hope I was never like that in class. I don't feel like I was and I was grateful to have someone give me feedback. I stopped talking in class because everytime I've given feedback to people their eyes glaze over and completely disregard what I say. Do I say that bad of things?

I loathe going into classes because of the clan mentality. I don't feel like I belong in the clan. I don't recognize enough I Guess, or they don't care about what I have to say because they haven't seen my work. Maybe that wouldn't change anything either and I don't know why I give a shit about what they think...

perhaps it's the fact that I just want to get through classes with atleast some idea of what I'm doing or that I'm on the right track.

ON HIATUS

Wed, 14 Nov 2007 21:51:58 GMT

done with this journal for now.

Turn It Around

Thu, 01 Feb 2007 18:05:59 GMT

On with my life!

Mon, 01 Jan 2007 17:20:05 GMT

HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY DAXXXXXXXXX

so funny

Mon, 25 Dec 2006 06:14:40 GMT

hahahahahaahaha

STORYTIME!

Wed, 20 Dec 2006 04:29:46 GMT

Many years ago, Al Capone virtually owned Chicago. Capone wasn't famous for anything heroic. He was notorious for enmeshing the windy city in everything from bootlegged booze and prostitution to murder.

Capone had a lawyer nicknamed "Easy Eddie." He was his lawyer for a good reason. Eddie was very good! In fact, Eddie's skill at legal maneuvering kept Big Al out of jail for a long time.

To show his appreciation, Capone paid him very well. Not only was the money big, but also, Eddie got special dividends.

For instance, he and his family occupied a fenced-in mansion with live-in help and all of the conveniences of the day. The estate was so large that it filled an entire Chicago City block. Eddie lived the high life of the Chicago mob and gave little consideration to the atrocity that went on around him.

Eddie did have one soft spot, however. He had a son that he loved dearly.
Eddie saw to it that his young son had clothes, cars, and a good education. Nothing was withheld. Price was no object. And, despite his involvement with organized crime, Eddie even tried to teach him right from wrong. Eddie wanted his son to be a better man than he was.

Yet, with all his wealth and influence, there were two things he could not give his son; he could not pass on a good name or a good example.

One day, Easy Eddie reached a difficult decision. Easy Eddie wanted to rectify wrongs he had done.

He decided he would go to the authorities and tell the truth about Al "Scarface" Capone, clean up his tarnished name, and offer his son some semblance of integrity.

To do this, he would have to testify against The Mob, and he knew that the cost would be great.

So, he testified.

Within the year, Easy Eddie's life ended in a blaze of gunfire on a lonely Chicago Street. But in his eyes, he had given his son the greatest gift he had to offer, at the greatest price he could ever pay.

Police removed from his pockets a rosary, a crucifix, a religious medallion, and a poem clipped from a magazine. The poem read:

The clock of life is wound but once,
And no man has the power
To tell just when the hands will stop
At late or early hour.
Now is the only time you own.
Live, love, toil with a will.
Place no faith in time.
For the clock may soon be still.

____________________________________________
STORY NUMBER TWO

World War II produced many heroes. One such man was Lieutenant Commander Butch O'Hare. He was a fighter pilot assigned to the aircraft carrier Lexington in the South Pacific.

One day his entire squadron was sent on a mission.

After he was airborne, he looked at his fuel gauge and realized that someone had forgotten to top off his fuel tank .

He would not have enough fuel to complete his mission and get back to his ship.

His flight leader told him to return to the carrier. Reluctantly, he dropped out of formation and headed back to the fleet. As he was returning to the mother ship he saw something that turned his blood
cold: a squadron of Japanese aircraft were speeding their way toward the American fleet.

The American fighters were gone on a sortie, and the fleet was all but defenseless. He could not reach his squadron and bring them back in time to save the fleet. Nor could he warn the fleet of the approaching danger.

There was only one thing to do. He must somehow divert them from the fleet. Laying aside all thoughts of personal safety, he dove into the formation of Japanese planes. Wing-mounted 50 caliber's blazed as he charged in, attacking one surprised enemy plane and then another.

Butch wove in and out of the now broken formation and fired at as many planes as possible until all his ammunition was finally spent. Undaunted, he continued the assault. He dove at the planes, trying to clip a wing or tail in hopes of damaging as many enemy planes as possible and rendering them unfit to fly. Finally, the exasperated Japanese squadron took off in another direction. Deeply relieved, Butch O'Hare and his tattered fighter limped back to the carrier.

Upon arrival, he reported in and related the event surrounding his return. The film from the gun-camera mounted on his plane told the tale. It showed the extent of Butch's daring attempt to protect his fleet.
He had, in fact, destroyed five enemy aircraft. This took place on February 20, 1942; and for that action Butch became the Navy's first Ace of W.W.II, and the first Naval Aviator to win the Congressional Medal of Honor.

A year later Butch was killed in aerial combat at the age of 29.

His home town would not allow the memory of this WW II hero to fade, and today, O'Hare Airport in Chicago is named in tribute to the courage of this great man. So, the next time you find yourself at O'Hare International, give some thought to visiting Butch's memorial displaying his statue and his Medal of Honor.

It is located between Terminals 1 and 2.
_______________________________________________________
SO WHAT DO THESE TWO STORIES HAVE TO DO WITH EACH OTHER?

Butch O'Hare was "Easy Eddie's" son.

WRITING DRIBBLE

Wed, 20 Sep 2006 16:05:12 GMT

I write a bunch of useless, mindless bullshit dribble in this journal. Life isn't so bad really. I'm a realist. Life has made that clear to me and how I see things. Things could be so much more worse and my jobs have taught me that as well. I hope that my working hard pays off some way or another. Hopefully all this is teaching me something...something useful.

A COMPLETE FRESH START!

Sat, 22 Jul 2006 17:10:59 GMT

I found a program that can completely wipe every journal from your LJ. I did that and am starting over..a complete blank slate never felt so good. Welcome to my life again. This time around I won't hesitate.

FRESH START

Sat, 22 Jul 2006 17:08:32 GMT

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