Not just you, Emily -- appropriate complaining is a life skill!

mine are, like, high school bullshit.

sometimes literally...

Happy owen day!

sending out the money $$.

I don't think it is wishing someone harm if you hope life gives them a kick in the pants. Sometimes you need a wakeup call - and honestly, sooner is better. Late in life wake up calls don't always lead to compassion.

Most of the jobs I've had were boring. factory work and soft ware testing are the same job - one is just cleaner. hostessing at a restaurant. I found out there that I have better people skills than most. If you have a waitress that can't handle more than 4 tables - don't give her ore than 4- otherwise, the customers will complain.

I think complaining is part of being a teenager. I think it is because they are in that weird place of wanting to move forward, but then again being a kid is ore fun.

I know I live a privileged life. ( i wasn't done yet - I posted!) I am very protective of it , because I feel that it could change dramatically . But we keep the 30 days show on our TIVO where they lived on minimum wage for 30 days- just as a reminder when I sart to feel sorry for myself.

Laga, my favorite, hearty soup recipe would work (potato soup):

I make a very similar soup, but instead of using butter, I chop up a slice or two of bacon, render off the fat, remove the bacon, and then do exactly what you do. And then I sprinkle the bacon on top. Sometimes, I add shredded cheese, too.

I have marked Windsparrow’s soup. I’m curious, though, why the baking soda?

My ideas are somewhat draconian, but I do believe every able citizen should spend two years between high school graduation and college entry performing service, either to their community or some other, away from home and everything familiar.

I totally agree. We need national service, a common experience, a maturation chamber.

Ugh. Timelies, peeps.

So, yeah. S was supposed to come home yesterday but somebody dropped the ball and the discharge never happened. I'm getting ready to go pick her now.

I'm a bit of a complainer too. I know I'm ridiculously lucky, but I still complain about shit. The trick is learning to whom to complain and when -- then it can be a useful venting tool and make you feel a little better.

IMO, there's a big difference between complaining about first-world problems and refusing to acknowledge that they are first-world problems. I mean, knowing I'm lucky to have my root and my husband doesn't invalidate the fact that I'd be even happier with a burrito, you know?

[edit: Aw, crap Sean. Hospital bureaucracies are the worst.]

{{Sean & S}}

Iris is back at school today. I am going to debate w/ Mr. Miyagi about whether or not I can haz bangs. when he did his hair-fu last week when I walked in, he said 'no' on account of cowlick.

whatever I do, unless it's long and I get it whacked, it looks the same.

I make a very similar soup, but instead of using butter, I chop up a slice or two of bacon, render off the fat, remove the bacon, and then do exactly what you do. And then I sprinkle the bacon on top. Sometimes, I add shredded cheese, too.

Oh, I add shredded cheese and bacon & chives on top of the soup. I left those out due to sipping through a straw issues. I also like to do it with leeks (I soften those with the green onions in the butter). Mmm...now I'm hungry for potato soup.

Crap. Liv may have contracted my pink eye. Her eye was swollen and crusty this morning. I'm taking her in to have it checked, just in case.

Glad to hear your sister came through Aimee.

Ellie=teh cutest (at least until some other buffista sprog does something adoreable).

I am at work after far too little sleep and looking up cool LJ icons. Anyone have favorites?

a maturation chamber.

"A masturbation chapter? Way to sneak that in at the end of the sentence -- now that's a revolutionary ide-- oh. Nyever miynd."

t /Emily Litella

Jessica, exactly. Well put. I have all the privileges of life, and I know it -- but sometimes I'd like a pony too. Doesn't mean I think I somehow deserve a pony!

Yay, Aimee sister neck!

Other than occasionally helping my father at his upholstery shop in the summer, I wasn't expected to have a summer job until I was in college, but that job was always at the shirt factory--until the factory started phasing out everything. (Dear god, that was hell. I'd sneeze vari-colored lint for days. The people who wore dust masks were considered weird.)

I don't know why we didn't have other summer jobs. I guess because we lived in the country, and the townie kids got the other jobs at the restaurants and such.