tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-283956222024-03-13T10:12:12.216-05:00The Wordy BitchTHIS IS HOW I SEE ITIma Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.comBlogger198125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-84372586866158311602013-01-02T20:48:00.000-06:002013-01-02T20:48:25.865-06:00Hmmm.RIP, Houston McCoy.<br />
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I'm glad you were there. Ima Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-20595626689816967842012-07-16T20:59:00.000-05:002012-07-16T21:18:13.499-05:00Weak SauceMy intentions are good. I plan well-researched, meaningful posts that will enlighten and inspire. Then, I work twelve hours, drive through the rain, work a bit in my garden and consider that I might want to fix something for dinner. By the time I get here to post,<a href="http://museshank.blogspot.com/"> my muse is shanked</a>.<br />
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If you're a regular reader, I'm sorry. There's nothing regular about this blog. There will also be nothing enlightening or inspiring about this post. This is just one of those random and probably ridiculous posts.<br />
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I think I've mentioned in the past that I get my news from a variety of sources. While I read from liberal and conservative sites (caveat: more conservative), my television news is a mix of Fox News, NBC's Today Show, and my local NBC affiliate. I will admit that my local station is on speed-dial and I frequently call them to ask if they are doing any independent research and to correct their incorrect reporting. Because of all of that reading, I know when they fail to tell the whole story. I have also had a few instances when I realize that O'Reilly (the Fox guy, not the MDA guy) has failed to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth. All of that is not what this random and ridiculous post is about.<br />
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I turn on the television when I wake in the morning. I start with Fox and Friends. Then, I switch to NBC. They are different animals. I understand that. I do not understand the FARKIN' WEIRD ASS OOMPA LOOMPA legs on every single female anchor Fox News puts on the air. What is up with that?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFwcSYTWVdJ9FDPQJRVe0muHXG2pxrkElqh8b1NMMY8xNpDY9thfISzdiSM_uW-FqDjnFtrsB8fciiZ3Fs4MjE8LufJgrC8TCaiu02F2JBOUNSzrexJw8kOxmYpBfuVxHasvcRQQ/s1600/wonkpic1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFwcSYTWVdJ9FDPQJRVe0muHXG2pxrkElqh8b1NMMY8xNpDY9thfISzdiSM_uW-FqDjnFtrsB8fciiZ3Fs4MjE8LufJgrC8TCaiu02F2JBOUNSzrexJw8kOxmYpBfuVxHasvcRQQ/s1600/wonkpic1.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEpEJpQm054vN5gKJH74YuB97pLK9uz3EZQK3dTbA_ua7VE8Jgyrt0M0KbsFSeEckn8z-kA14CoyDcMghdfXLmL5mwlM_nq1vPvJ16h7gkB0W3pIJnBsYrP31vzq8aLTNIrXHYpQ/s1600/oompa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEpEJpQm054vN5gKJH74YuB97pLK9uz3EZQK3dTbA_ua7VE8Jgyrt0M0KbsFSeEckn8z-kA14CoyDcMghdfXLmL5mwlM_nq1vPvJ16h7gkB0W3pIJnBsYrP31vzq8aLTNIrXHYpQ/s320/oompa.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
This, unfortunately, distracts from whatever message they are trying to send.<br />
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I'll try to post something more meaningful soon.Ima Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-64278058885651381482012-07-04T18:49:00.000-05:002012-07-04T19:02:47.478-05:00Why We CelebrateIN CONGRESS, July 4, 1776.<br />
<br />
The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America,<br />
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When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.<br />
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We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.–That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, –That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.–Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.<br />
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He has refused his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.<br />
He has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his Assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.<br />
He has refused to pass other Laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of Representation in the Legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.<br />
He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their public Records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.<br />
He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.<br />
He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the Legislative powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining in the mean time exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.<br />
He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.<br />
He has obstructed the Administration of Justice, by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary powers.<br />
He has made Judges dependent on his Will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.<br />
He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harrass our people, and eat out their substance.<br />
He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the Consent of our legislatures.<br />
He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil power.<br />
He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:<br />
For Quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:<br />
For protecting them, by a mock Trial, from punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States:<br />
For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world:<br />
For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent:<br />
For depriving us in many cases, of the benefits of Trial by Jury:<br />
For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences<br />
For abolishing the free System of English Laws in a neighbouring Province, establishing therein an Arbitrary government, and enlarging its Boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these Colonies:<br />
For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws, and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments:<br />
For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.<br />
He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us.<br />
He has plundered our seas, ravaged our Coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.<br />
He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty & perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation.<br />
He has constrained our fellow Citizens taken Captive on the high Seas to bear Arms against their Country, to become the executioners of their friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands.<br />
He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages, whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.<br />
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In every stage of these Oppressions We have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A Prince whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.<br />
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Nor have We been wanting in attentions to our British brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which, would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our Separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace Friends.<br />
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We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States; that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.Ima Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-73434885684608334222012-06-20T10:07:00.003-05:002012-06-20T10:07:33.052-05:00Watergate Did Not Have A Body CountI suppose the mainstream media will have to report on Fast and Furious now...
<a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/fast-and-furious-scandal-obama-exerts-executive-privilege-house-panel-moves-forward-with-contempt-vote/2012/06/20/gJQAGImIqV_story.html">
Holder in Contempt?</a>Ima Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-62196286974034583912012-06-16T14:48:00.002-05:002012-06-16T14:56:59.786-05:00The Night of Which We Will Not SpeakIt's been almost two decades ago, but you know who you are...
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLmfy23P_e381G93pX7z4PzbdJdqTBgkUaBCAYUH0PE6DiEZwsmyq4gaEns1W0Y_otPK2XtieJFpAqSJjBYM57tMpMWTPYD4z2Ru-iH0mNRMDccTfGV0EY7qMUNJ00nvY7LIsl_g/s1600/helen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="332" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLmfy23P_e381G93pX7z4PzbdJdqTBgkUaBCAYUH0PE6DiEZwsmyq4gaEns1W0Y_otPK2XtieJFpAqSJjBYM57tMpMWTPYD4z2Ru-iH0mNRMDccTfGV0EY7qMUNJ00nvY7LIsl_g/s400/helen.jpg" /></a>Ima Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-13712030537296700082012-04-09T19:44:00.005-05:002012-04-09T20:10:02.979-05:00This is what it really looks like...A few years ago, I rebuilt the engine in my car. Tonight, I saw that my cyberbuddy, <a href="http://theferalirishman.blogspot.com">The Feral Irishman</a> had put up a post on <a href="http://theferalirishman.blogspot.com/2012/04/babes-and-cars.html">Babes and Cars</a>. Now, I think that Pissed, as the Feral Irishman calls himself, knows better than to believe that these gals were actually working on the cars even though some of the pictures try to make it seem like that. Some of these ladies might actually work on cars.<br /><br />Pissed, I hate to break your heart if I was mistaken but women who work on cars do NOT work on cars dressed like that. I'm sorry. Disappointment stings. I have a bit of truth for you.<br /><br />First, a caveat: I do not, nor have I ever, claimed to be a babe. In fact, I'm probably old enough to be the mother of most of those women. That said, this is what a real gal looks like when she's working on her car.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhisHHt5pidZ2gfvLtyA28gdzp9O-jSW_8c1c-eodm_svbZnTYmE88UBQ8G4JviFIXRA-bU9PQI4SrmUE0rXt21ShHE_JxDg5ooiIzYit-tfhJ9q20qm6iwAo4jBXdNlR14HyViDw/s1600/realgal.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhisHHt5pidZ2gfvLtyA28gdzp9O-jSW_8c1c-eodm_svbZnTYmE88UBQ8G4JviFIXRA-bU9PQI4SrmUE0rXt21ShHE_JxDg5ooiIzYit-tfhJ9q20qm6iwAo4jBXdNlR14HyViDw/s400/realgal.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729569774417376370" /></a><br /><br />Sorry, Pissed. It's not glamorous or sexy but it is real. ;-)<br /><br />*Oooh... breaking into new territory here. Half of my face instead of just the quarter. My online anonymity is evaporating!Ima Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-77924997741202827832012-03-16T17:44:00.001-05:002012-03-16T17:46:03.730-05:00Shout out to Mare at Mocking WordsMare,<br />Re: Compromised. Every link on your blog goes to something called Alpha Inventions (definitely not linking to it). There's no way to comment on your blog or contact you.<br />ImaIma Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-56631736094232980812012-03-11T16:51:00.001-05:002012-03-11T16:54:36.924-05:00Poetic, Don't You Think?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidjKxXR1zihyphenhyphenSCugszXpZMcNWNe0h-xdwm5Gpq6CTOSnVw_hIiezYqJZ0ZWIQqjnJ7UuAo5VHYNSzUnupO57PFuVrglFTtF8shvZOwu01mD-0F4qMvXrUvrHt_ynnqYcJ6hfGxIg/s1600/POE+BOY.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 376px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidjKxXR1zihyphenhyphenSCugszXpZMcNWNe0h-xdwm5Gpq6CTOSnVw_hIiezYqJZ0ZWIQqjnJ7UuAo5VHYNSzUnupO57PFuVrglFTtF8shvZOwu01mD-0F4qMvXrUvrHt_ynnqYcJ6hfGxIg/s400/POE+BOY.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5718761009788806626" /></a>Ima Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-55446904674029478962012-03-05T20:40:00.004-06:002012-03-05T20:45:02.957-06:00The Simpsons and Politics - WINI saw this earlier and received permission to post it here*. I'm not a fan of Mitt Romney. This explains why.<br /><br />Romney vs. Burns<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFhMsFYAK3P677M8bgCj8vuK8JL86pM3gs9gGtMCh7-spGDuAoFiXObcZd0hEhmE-ET0PRPzTKy1kAA8FBjje9gaOpN40ZYRGxmVlXJ_EMprAP9_XCA_YVgszBOD2Dy_EAX7qsgw/s1600/RomneyVBurns.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 317px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFhMsFYAK3P677M8bgCj8vuK8JL86pM3gs9gGtMCh7-spGDuAoFiXObcZd0hEhmE-ET0PRPzTKy1kAA8FBjje9gaOpN40ZYRGxmVlXJ_EMprAP9_XCA_YVgszBOD2Dy_EAX7qsgw/s400/RomneyVBurns.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5716608905170492146" /></a><br /><br />*I like Mare but her site is compromised, so I'm not linking.Ima Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-5776014008725615932012-03-03T19:53:00.005-06:002012-03-05T09:23:37.796-06:00RIP, Andrew<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlbT6XgpPJfv_AvZ1PtNRJiBZ9hEH8Fy31w1hWjWiLb2OIZu3FYpFG0trREIUpjp45ev7XtxxOeXI-1iK6PkUggxregxjOQKYs2vI1wbK9ih_GxTI12h_qyOgeF48dWcsYHuCJDw/s1600/Breitbart.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 297px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlbT6XgpPJfv_AvZ1PtNRJiBZ9hEH8Fy31w1hWjWiLb2OIZu3FYpFG0trREIUpjp45ev7XtxxOeXI-1iK6PkUggxregxjOQKYs2vI1wbK9ih_GxTI12h_qyOgeF48dWcsYHuCJDw/s400/Breitbart.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715854275620283314" /></a><br />Courtesy of <span style="font-weight:bold;">bigfurhat</span> at <a href="http://iowntheworld.com/blog/">iOTW</a>.Ima Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-40466019083147267522012-02-01T20:59:00.002-06:002012-02-01T21:08:15.017-06:00I'm Right and You're StupidWarning: this is going to get political.<br /><br />Back in the days when I used to post more, I posted about <a href="http://wordybitch.blogspot.com/2008/12/electile-dysfunction-part-one.html">Electile Dysfunction</a>. That was about three years ago and I was suffering from post-election malaise. As you’ve seen from my infrequent posts in the past year or so, I’m a full-time student (sometimes more). In addition, I’m also, mostly, working full-time. That doesn’t mean that I’m less opinionated. It doesn’t mean that I’m less wordy. I haven’t had the mental energy to deal with public politics on my blog. I hope this post changes that.<br /><br />If you’re not reading me via a feed reader or Facebook, my political leanings are fairly obvious. As my profile states, “I'm a gun-toting, pro-life, hetero-kinky, pro-gay-marriage defense contractor with an interest in Eastern religions and philosophy with a tolerance for all walks of life. I'd like to hand you a flower but believe we need to be holding bake sales to build bombers. Confused? Imagine what it's like in my head!”<br /><br />Yes, I’m fiscally conservative. I’m fairly liberal when it comes to social issues but I’m pro-life. I think that personal responsibility matters. As I mentioned in the <a href="http://wordybitch.blogspot.com/2008/12/electile-dysfunction-part-one.html">Electile Dysfunction</a> post, there’s not a candidate who completely speaks for me.<br /><br />I could go on for pages but I know that we’re all suffering from information overload. I use a feed reader. When I see a post that makes me click more than twice to see what they have to say, I click on something else. I want the posts to be succinct. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. I’m the Wordy Bitch. I find it hard to be succinct. That said, I will try to get to the point.<br /><br />Politics are an ugly, ugly thing. People get rude. They attack [even within the same party (Hillary and Barack in the last election) (Newt and Mitt in this one)].<br /><br />My best friend in the world is a hard-core liberal. She’s a liberal, pro-choice atheist who thinks (correct me if I’m wrong, CaveBitch) that Obama should be given another four years…<br /><br />We talk politics when we’re together. We love each other. We respect each other. We discuss the issues without personally attacking each other. I like hearing what she has to say. I think and hope that she likes hearing my opinion. We don’t often agree but we listen and disagree, respectfully. We debate the issues. I don’t think she’s stupid because she believes what she believes. I think she knows that I thoughtfully stand by my beliefs. We respect each other. Our discussions reflect that (even if drapery becomes a MAJOR issue…).<br /><br />There’s also a woman in Maine who is even more liberal than CaveBitch. She is the sister of my heart. One of the best conversations I’ve had in my life was with her. It’s old news now but we debated the <a href="http://wordybitch.blogspot.com/2006/11/censorship-not-quite.html">Dixie Chicks</a> and whether or not they were censored after a concert declaration. We completely disagreed about all of it but we remained friends after the conversation.<br /><br />So. in the interest of trying to be succinct, there’s this: I don’t put a condition on my friendships. I don’t make a condition of being my friend that you agree with me on everything. My real friends don’t expect me to agree with them on everything. As the second ex-husband once said, “If I wanted to date myself, I’d stay at home.”<br /><br />I’m probably going to be posting political thoughts in the next ten months or so. If you agree with me, I’d love to hear from you. If you disagree with me, I’d also love to hear from you! Let’s just not attack each other personally, okay? Let’s debate the issues and talk about the candidates.<br /><br />The title of this post is a warning. Too many people are so caught up in their ideologies that they can’t step back and think about trying to find some common ground. I promise this: If you don’t attack; if you present your belief in a way that is respectful, I will respond in kind. The problem in most political conversations is that most of us have become caught up in attack mode. We respond to a difference of belief by calling the differing person stupid or racist or redneck or… <insert your="" derogatory="" label="">.<br /><br />Sure. I believe I’m right. I do not, however, think you’re stupid. Tell me what you think – and why you think it.<br /></insert>Ima Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-29788371438375428772012-01-30T21:13:00.002-06:002012-01-30T21:16:05.800-06:00Percolating...I have a new post (finally) percolating in my brain. No promises. No excuses (at least not yet). Be forewarned: politics are most likely involved in this.<br /><br />By the way (and not an excuse), I'm in my final semester. Graduation is in about four months. I'm giddy. There may be ridiculousness soon.Ima Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-6978666471062834362012-01-09T19:36:00.003-06:002012-01-09T19:40:50.013-06:00I'm Making No PromisesTonight was the first night of the last semester before I graduate. I hope that this semester proves to be less stressing than the past few. <br /><br />While I still have many opinions and I'm still Wordy, I'm not shy about sharing them in person but it's harder to get those words down on the blog (for a variety of reasons).<br /><br />I'll try to fix that.Ima Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-14013475325540604472011-09-27T11:54:00.002-05:002011-09-27T12:01:02.829-05:00Dear Friends in Denver -Pack your belongings! <a href="http://whitehouse.blogs.cnn.com/2011/09/27/oops-white-house-fails-basic-geography-test/">You're moving to Wyoming!</a>Ima Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-61281144685531051752011-08-31T20:45:00.003-05:002011-08-31T20:47:16.160-05:00Here We Go Again...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1DLKYIPKHUzJRKNQ35RHJw7gv0UzLKtYAA7jUmNviQhPJmk_rJ0vb5mBMwCBE03Fm-CVF20teWFDwvFuvo8gerr-UOoL5FlaR21O6ZH0Pe2lWgyB7Oe-wbDNFsGXxGCv0CVTGJw/s1600/HereWeGoAgain.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1DLKYIPKHUzJRKNQ35RHJw7gv0UzLKtYAA7jUmNviQhPJmk_rJ0vb5mBMwCBE03Fm-CVF20teWFDwvFuvo8gerr-UOoL5FlaR21O6ZH0Pe2lWgyB7Oe-wbDNFsGXxGCv0CVTGJw/s400/HereWeGoAgain.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647201498737783538" /></a>
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<br />Back at it, again, but this semester looks as if it won't be as stressing. I hope to soon post something interesting for a change.
<br />Ima Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-85240922174926810382011-08-07T23:30:00.003-05:002011-08-07T23:41:18.438-05:00I Can Breathe Again!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHaKcderr9JH7cY_HnXKKLeu3FWpRoRLqFWBEdT45-vZlIP_zQ48w7dmSNHaOqEw497ZdwVirsOAr5f15X0-wwwkzuS8V0cAEWJ7dERZ52vUFjNN3tPnzAIXFNl0XEP5-QdgXQdg/s1600/pain+alleviated.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHaKcderr9JH7cY_HnXKKLeu3FWpRoRLqFWBEdT45-vZlIP_zQ48w7dmSNHaOqEw497ZdwVirsOAr5f15X0-wwwkzuS8V0cAEWJ7dERZ52vUFjNN3tPnzAIXFNl0XEP5-QdgXQdg/s400/pain+alleviated.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638338175005200162" /></a><br /><br />Okee-dokee. I won't be doing that again. I'm thrilled it's over and I'm glad to have five courses out of the way in 2.5 months but it was brutal. I was cranky and irritable and Baby Kitty thinks that I don't love him. <br /><br />Two more (less stressful, I think) semesters and I'll be completely done. <br /><br />In the spirit of fun and lighter spirits, I'll share a funny I read a week or so ago:<br /><br /><br /><strong>A big moron and a little moron were walking along a <br />cliff. The big moron fell off. Why didn't the other one? <br /><br />Cause he was a little more on.</strong><br /><br />Morons, unite!Ima Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-45583511365886213012011-06-01T14:07:00.007-05:002011-06-01T15:01:10.183-05:00In the News...It is entirely possible that I have multiple personalities and one of them is an adolescent boy. Bathroom humor and penis jokes? Count me in!<br /><br />That's your warning. If you're already feeling uncomfortable, it's probably best to stop reading now.<br /><br />When politicians find themselves in the midst of a potential scandal, they have hard choices to make. Tell the truth? Aw, c'mon now. That's really the last resort, right? Claim no knowledge! Lie! Distract! Admit it but claim sex addiction!<br /><br />In case you've missed it, Representative Anthony Weiner has found himself smack dab in the middle of a scandal. Rep. Weiner's Twitter followers were surprised by the picture that was sent from his account. The picture was of underwear. With a man inside. An aroused man.<br /><br />Weiner claims that both his Twitter and Yfrog accounts were hacked. However, today Weiner says that he <br /><a href="http://firstread.msnbc.msn.com/_news/2011/06/01/6764247-weiner-cant-say-with-certitude-that-lewd-photo-isnt-of-him">"can't say with certitude"</a> that it isn't a picture of him. Hmmm.<br /><br />There's all kinds of reporting being done out there on this. Bloggers kept the story going when the media seemed to be uninterested. Eh. Today, liberal and conservative reporters are all asking questions. I'm not a reporter. Go to your favorite news site if you'd like to read more. This is not meant to be a news article or a commentary on politics or even a statement on liberal/conservative differences.<br /><br />I like bathroom humor and penis jokes. A couple of the funniest things I've seen since this began:<br /><br />Anthony Weiner to Hire Private Dick to Investigate Twitter Hacking. Dick Tracy and Shaft Likely Candidates<br /><br />Can't we all just get a schlong?<br /><br />"The only thing Anthony Weiner and the crotch picture had in common is that they both lean hard left." (I think this is attributable to Jon Stewart; I don't know who is responsible on the others.)<br /><br />And my personal favorite:<br />IM IN UR PANTZ TWEETIN PITCHERS OF UR JUNK - BRITEBART KAT <br /><br /><br /><br />My advice?<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUcL9axILZkzxvReGCvdZgvt1gAS0TGLSkSKe3UlCtDikfXR1ankz8DlVoam7WvdoEknapqIv6OrP21Ttwhafn8MRnah4q1bg1uPdyykY9MpG_mk56dmo_R-5TYG0_C1MN49APOw/s1600/justsayno.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 396px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUcL9axILZkzxvReGCvdZgvt1gAS0TGLSkSKe3UlCtDikfXR1ankz8DlVoam7WvdoEknapqIv6OrP21Ttwhafn8MRnah4q1bg1uPdyykY9MpG_mk56dmo_R-5TYG0_C1MN49APOw/s400/justsayno.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613342939731909938" /></a><br /><br />Always.<br />Just Say No.Ima Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-44319499405699923462011-05-29T21:28:00.005-05:002011-05-29T21:33:19.656-05:00It’s been over a month since those deadly storms came through North Alabama. Just this past Friday, they removed the forest of debris filling the ditches along my street. There are many areas that still look like the storms hit yesterday. Again, I was so blessed/lucky/fortunate.<br /><br />The FEMA inspector came to document the damage at my house yesterday. I’ll know in 7-10 days what they will do.<br /><br />Life has, somewhat, returned to normal. I’m finally back at work. Three months of this year, I was without a paycheck. That was a bit stressful. It was also informative. I know that I will not be bored when I eventually retire. I’ve learned that my workaholic tendencies need to be fought. Paychecks are good. Life is better.<br /><br />School is back in session. For further proof that I am insane, I’m taking five classes again this semester: Spanish Conversation, Technical Risk Management, Project Management, Legal Environment of Business, and Stats II.<br /><br />I’ve apologized in the past for breaks in blogging. I’m not apologizing for that this time. I’ve made promises about posting. I’m not making promises about that this time.<br /><br />What I will make a promise about is this: If/when I do post something, it will be ridiculous or deep or DIY psychoanalysis or a haiku or something else completely random.<br /><br />Goals must be attainable.<br /><br />In the spirit of ridiculousness, I give you the following cartoon as a warning about summer clothing choices:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm9pzJGSBpYigCHpqAcxY9G9AUlTny5W_noXFa1SM0toPXht6grHsujTOMT2k6lNls39GsNI1i1tSMlgQjF16M-i9qXCr6lmWQhh8e9Weie0bJucmOOcQe0fBEnVg1-OVJUmIjug/s1600/toon.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 263px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm9pzJGSBpYigCHpqAcxY9G9AUlTny5W_noXFa1SM0toPXht6grHsujTOMT2k6lNls39GsNI1i1tSMlgQjF16M-i9qXCr6lmWQhh8e9Weie0bJucmOOcQe0fBEnVg1-OVJUmIjug/s320/toon.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612331250221685666" /></a>Ima Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-76673224124847406312011-05-14T22:33:00.014-05:002011-05-20T00:52:04.204-05:00Ima Little Bit Scared...(Updated to add more pictures and video)<br />I didn’t see the news stories about the tornados that ripped through the Southeast on April 27th. The first round of storms took out the power at my house around 10:00 a.m.<br /><br />I’ve lived in North Alabama for a long time. The first time was in 1973-74, so I lived here during the devastating tornados then. My brother and I huddled with my parents in the hallway of our quarters on Redstone Arsenal. I saw some of the damage in the weeks following but I was young enough that my biggest concern was about the veterinarian’s office and if the puppies were okay. I moved back here in 1978 and have been here since then. In 1989, I’d driven through the intersection of Airport Road and Memorial Parkway only minutes before a tornado struck there.<br /><br />One time, I did go to my parents’ house (they had a basement) because the weather folks were saying a large tornado was in the next town and heading my way. During that short drive, light debris started hitting my windshield and I decided that I would not ever leave my house again during severe storms.<br /><br />Even with all of that, I don’t get too twitchy about storm warnings. We hear them all of the time in this part of the country. If severe weather is expected, I keep the television tuned to a local station. I keep a watch on the sky to the West. Other than that, I don't modify my activities much.<br /><br />On April 27th, I was studying for the last final of the semester but I had the television on so I could monitor the expected bad weather. A friend was visiting from out of town and I was hoping to finish my schoolwork early so we could go do something fun.<br /><br />I’ve weathered a number of storms in my house. This day felt different. As the first line of thunderstorms neared, the sky looked different. For the first time in my life, I put on sturdy shoes and we went into my closet and shut the door. The power went out but we could hear the storm outside.<br /><br />After the storm was over, I kept expecting the power to come back on. I’ve lived in my house for ten years and have never lost power for more than 15 minutes. I’ve often questioned why I even accepted the generator from my parents when they moved.<br /><br />My son came home from work early and reminded me that our iPods worked as radios. Fortunately, both were fully charged. I found my headphones, we turned the volume up and huddled around the iPod to listen to the news. It seems a tornado had hit less than a half-mile south of my house.<br /><br />My ex-husband called. He was on his way home from work as he had also been dismissed early. He had to take multiple detours due to the trees down on so many roads. What was usually a 20 minute or shorter drive became a two-hour trip. When he got home, my son went to get him and they came to my house. We were tracking the storms on the radio and knew that another line of severe storms, with tornados embedded, were headed our way. They were still at least a half-hour away so we went into my backyard to watch the horizon.<br /><br />The lightning started getting intense and the birds were all heading East. Then, we saw something else in the sky. After a moment or two, we realized it was a shingle. Twenty to thirty minutes ahead of the storm, debris was falling from the sky. More followed.<br /><br />A little background about my dog, Gulliver: He is terrified of slick floors. He has no interest in coming into the house since I got rid of the carpet and put down tile and laminate.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuSzKyBc3ifblImTPqyoMi1JtFM2OZKb6aHQpNC3B7vjtl_D4JbrDIEEww92CZz5C7crgfyozEV6EiH_3qBjj-H1RlPN58jd8KtaM3NkTu4ORqYALxGrlQ1eFRfyUCkjBfPG4t1Q/s1600/Gulliver.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606787156214557170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuSzKyBc3ifblImTPqyoMi1JtFM2OZKb6aHQpNC3B7vjtl_D4JbrDIEEww92CZz5C7crgfyozEV6EiH_3qBjj-H1RlPN58jd8KtaM3NkTu4ORqYALxGrlQ1eFRfyUCkjBfPG4t1Q/s320/Gulliver.jpg" /></a><br /><br />That day, he was quite insistent about coming into the house. He did not give a shit about slick floors on April 27th.<br /><br />I told the guys, “We need to go get in the closet NOW.”<br /><br />My son, with all of the scornful disdain a twenty-four year old can muster, said, “Mom, you live on a slab. We need to go across the street to the [neighbor’s] storm shelter.”<br /><br />I’ve known these people for over twenty years. I’d never considered going to their storm shelter prior to that day. We grabbed flashlights, iPods, and my purse and took off across the street. My dog freezes when on a leash and Baby Kitty is also not a fan of any kind of confinement. We left the animals in the house. Other people, strangers, were already at the shelter. Two men, a woman, two young teenage girls with their puppy, my son, my ex-husband, my friend, and I nervously waited. We listened to the news reports and watched the horizon.<br /><br />We saw the storm coming. More debris fell from the sky. As the storm came closer, we rushed down the stairs and three of the men held the door shut. The latch was broken and they were determined to keep that door closed. Through a small gap at the top of the door, we watched debris fly by the shelter.<br /><br />“Here it comes! Hold the door!”<br /><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzoq5TUoxkPHHsHcOFbUtHUgAIBwHUVv9sIpzkZDR0R8F_Cn9Pbwk1qbhD1JbpjJj5lxy3S8sIOjSkXxh3Uxvk5M_8wWTee0qB3T04LTJyZhsc746CxfSdq-JxXaa8wq8jnXUlew/s1600/Here+it+comes+2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606782888765369618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzoq5TUoxkPHHsHcOFbUtHUgAIBwHUVv9sIpzkZDR0R8F_Cn9Pbwk1qbhD1JbpjJj5lxy3S8sIOjSkXxh3Uxvk5M_8wWTee0qB3T04LTJyZhsc746CxfSdq-JxXaa8wq8jnXUlew/s320/Here+it+comes+2.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizqhy5H3IkBFUFG58ZYwf09y0z85Xu6p2Fu-EZe1H_2Q05EpC9j-VdlbYJfaOg4lBtAncR5ASgftV0UK2LPHl3b2HkPizLhfDqS_ys2fekyc7HzF5Cqu3_PBjP3yUXpS3t7NxPvw/s1600/Here+it+comes.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606782883909625250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizqhy5H3IkBFUFG58ZYwf09y0z85Xu6p2Fu-EZe1H_2Q05EpC9j-VdlbYJfaOg4lBtAncR5ASgftV0UK2LPHl3b2HkPizLhfDqS_ys2fekyc7HzF5Cqu3_PBjP3yUXpS3t7NxPvw/s320/Here+it+comes.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br />The sound had changed. You always hear people say, usually in a thick Southern accent, that a tornado sounds like a freight train. It didn’t sound like that to me. One person described it as sounding like you’re trapped in a Hoover vacuum cleaner. That better fits what I heard. We could hear and feel the air being sucked out of the vents in the ceiling of the shelter. Our ears popped as the air pressure changed. We could hear the large trees above the shelter snapping in two. It was terrifying. I heard someone crying. I told them that it would be okay, that we were in a safe place.<br /><br />After the storm, we went outside. Water had filled the ditches and was rushing down the hill. Trees all around us had been uprooted or broken in half.<br /><br />This, apparently, happened around this time. Please don’t be judgy… we’re not all that redneck in these parts…<br /><br /><iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/yOSG-P1EjfU" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br />I was still listening to the news.<br /><br />“Another one’s coming, same path, about ten minutes out.”<br /><br />My memories of the rest of the day are a bit jumbled and the timeline of what happened is off, I’m sure.<br /><br />When there were breaks in the storms, we left the shelter to go check on our homes. Crossing my driveway was a bit scary. The water was deeper and more quickly moving than I was comfortable with but seemed passable, so we crossed despite this. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZmpR6bqZhRj9jtgNFtXK9L-J0eZ8r0040u41SxDasxv0rcjwBfTWXwVVoyo0ak2pJ_I_g3OIttFMb4QTSX5nockKWcfEy6LDmugmh34h8tIDvOPAP8JEdTvWEDXpFYzYUPe9CsA/s1600/waterfall.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606782893346590738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZmpR6bqZhRj9jtgNFtXK9L-J0eZ8r0040u41SxDasxv0rcjwBfTWXwVVoyo0ak2pJ_I_g3OIttFMb4QTSX5nockKWcfEy6LDmugmh34h8tIDvOPAP8JEdTvWEDXpFYzYUPe9CsA/s320/waterfall.jpg" /></a><br /><br />I’m really glad that I put my boots on early that morning. Looking down the hill, I could see that the bottom of my street was covered in water. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj88T8vHxhFaYeXMZ3oegD0uwRg3lT4SOC6rWTRgIsE7GmByrjW5Ua7B_Uw-X1y-lpZwKVdv2a0dD3gMGeDiXi_OHb8Xr0yBRcNpm200vH_COxslSULunNsQqslfKRpLUjBnX_4Lg/s1600/lower+road.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606783224543630034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj88T8vHxhFaYeXMZ3oegD0uwRg3lT4SOC6rWTRgIsE7GmByrjW5Ua7B_Uw-X1y-lpZwKVdv2a0dD3gMGeDiXi_OHb8Xr0yBRcNpm200vH_COxslSULunNsQqslfKRpLUjBnX_4Lg/s320/lower+road.jpg" /></a><br /><br />At least two of the houses now had lakes instead of lawns.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLkFj1IzQrwAUQnIoCQi9aHeYegcLMu8Qts8iRwNSmfmIL2DGwlJOWj7TOt5WT_dEFXIMYj9M13OxlFTZmkvXlPZf0YZFwNHjOlNtXUedDMP9FuWnXesgFDOLWwnNvwZ92BJgUeA/s1600/lakes+not+lawns.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606782897339384962" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLkFj1IzQrwAUQnIoCQi9aHeYegcLMu8Qts8iRwNSmfmIL2DGwlJOWj7TOt5WT_dEFXIMYj9M13OxlFTZmkvXlPZf0YZFwNHjOlNtXUedDMP9FuWnXesgFDOLWwnNvwZ92BJgUeA/s320/lakes+not+lawns.jpg" /></a><br /><br />I noticed that, with the overflowing ditches and continuing copious amounts of rain, water was starting to come in my front door. I’m on a hill and not in a flood zone and the amounts of water were incredible. I thought about changing into dry clothes but, at that point, it seemed kind of pointless. We rolled towels and placed them between the storm door and the front door and hoped for the best.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_MtwEAMqXI9ID3UwATSSJdb35U2nA987K67S0mufAdgoIlfycj9f-jk1DmjDLs8AP91CbuLt4C3IZldpxfv9AEbxnMEopQMQrrhNxDpppNjOT4h24e8nTlwihrLmpr2B0Ydh5tw/s1600/ditches.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606783212146942994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_MtwEAMqXI9ID3UwATSSJdb35U2nA987K67S0mufAdgoIlfycj9f-jk1DmjDLs8AP91CbuLt4C3IZldpxfv9AEbxnMEopQMQrrhNxDpppNjOT4h24e8nTlwihrLmpr2B0Ydh5tw/s320/ditches.jpg" /></a><br /><br />I tried to call my daughter but calls weren’t going through. She lives about an hour south of me and they were having tornados, too. I texted her and, thankfully, received word that she, the son-in-law, and my grandgirls were all fine.<br /><br />My son drove to his dad’s house to get his dog and bring him to my house. He unplugged my computer and moved it from the floor to a table. Phone signals were already shaky at best, texting worked a little bit. I texted him that another storm was coming and he needed to get back to the shelter.<br /><br />One of the other men and his two daughters came back to the shelter. The girls were sobbing. They’d gone to check on their house and it was gone. Everything gone.<br /><br />The radio stations told us what was going on around us. The reports were devastating. The Piggly Wiggly grocery store was destroyed, people were trapped inside. The nearby gas station was completely gone. Hacklesberg, Tuscaloosa, Birmingham, Cullman, Tanner and other towns and communities all hit.<br /><br />As the storm got closer, we went back down the stairs and the men held the door. The only light was from the gap at the top of the door and my son’s iPod. My iPod’s battery had run out during the earlier storms. We heard a man shouting outside.<br /><br />“Can we come in? We have babies.”<br /><br />You know, it should have been obvious to me prior to this storm that you don’t need an invitation to use a storm shelter. No one cares if they know you or not. It doesn’t matter. Get in a shelter when there’s a storm coming. The man, his wife, and their two children joined us in the shelter.<br /><br />The ground above the shelter was completely saturated and water dripped into buckets. That was the only sound before the roaring started again. I’m not sure how many storms went over and around us that day. It seemed as if they just kept coming. Every single time we left the shelter, the damage to the area was worse. The flooding was worse, more trees were down. It was awful.<br /><br />When we finally got the all clear, it was dark. We navigated our way across flooded ditches back to my house. The water on my sidewalk was halfway up my leg. When we got into the house, the dogs and cat were completely freaked. The water was about an inch deep in most of my house. Fortunately, because I live on a hill, the water outside started to recede pretty quickly. By flashlight and candlelight, we used push brooms to get most of the water out of the house. On hands and knees, we used every towel, blanket and sheet in my linen closet to try to dry the floors.<br /><br />I think we were all a little shell-shocked. We didn’t know what to do, so we just did stuff. ~shrug~<br /><br />My ex and son decided that they were going to try to go to his house, about a mile away. My ex was pretty sure the house, a mobile home, wasn’t even going to be there but because of all the trees down, they were going to walk. My ex-husband’s street intersects mine but when they got to the end of my street, they couldn’t even see his street because of the downed trees and debris. They came back to my house and decided they’d drive and go around a different way. Within a few minutes, they were back. All of the roads leading to his house were impassable.<br /><br />It was decided that the only thing to do at this point was have a beer or two. The ex rarely drinks but even he indulged that night. By candlelight, in the damp living room, we talked a little about how scary it had been and how lucky we were. We had no idea.<br /><br />The next day, when the sun came out, it became very apparent how fortunate we had been. About 150 yards from my house and beyond, it looks like a war zone. <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimBF6w9hYKFFjAVbFvJgKGLasIPPuno1enL5GSR19fhDW7BJAEF4o22jQIoulLTko8gfKf9riIEMUYm3DTr3V9lCF9ld15Ej9Z_b8agdXXxkngUZY1EZvvGPNWa7rku_nvKpHCyw/s1600/warzone.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606783220143718178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimBF6w9hYKFFjAVbFvJgKGLasIPPuno1enL5GSR19fhDW7BJAEF4o22jQIoulLTko8gfKf9riIEMUYm3DTr3V9lCF9ld15Ej9Z_b8agdXXxkngUZY1EZvvGPNWa7rku_nvKpHCyw/s320/warzone.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDrHcUq4XXGV8LklC4OkfF6ujVjHnAUYTPwLW56XzCH5oYIzkQPpjivlgVaLpEtul1J3O9nLd8ijylHqig9kZ6yCdIesK5u2JyRBtB0wuEIzPNI3HSQdZvIHIB4V4uNBkDB7TGkQ/s1600/warzone2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606783219424702098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDrHcUq4XXGV8LklC4OkfF6ujVjHnAUYTPwLW56XzCH5oYIzkQPpjivlgVaLpEtul1J3O9nLd8ijylHqig9kZ6yCdIesK5u2JyRBtB0wuEIzPNI3HSQdZvIHIB4V4uNBkDB7TGkQ/s320/warzone2.jpg" /></a><br />I have been at the north end of my street at least three times a week for the past ten years. If someone had blindfolded me and put me at the spot where my road intersects my ex-husband’s, when I’d take off that blindfold, I would not know where I was. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-JSd7o62Tmlhc58YSP-UslslOl36e9OJ0-Nr_nDXkc4_5u8_S77U_wGul8eBhk06YLqiRTwLP0zjxggqKJ5UYzjkOxL1Ljh5uKHx0-Ttc0cJJr3-j8sE1mJecAH7c3dHr8F39dQ/s1600/endofstreet.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-JSd7o62Tmlhc58YSP-UslslOl36e9OJ0-Nr_nDXkc4_5u8_S77U_wGul8eBhk06YLqiRTwLP0zjxggqKJ5UYzjkOxL1Ljh5uKHx0-Ttc0cJJr3-j8sE1mJecAH7c3dHr8F39dQ/s320/endofstreet.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606967394012458994" /></a><br />There used to be forest. There isn’t. <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH_RhuDoGnN5cXbDbSfGXkzh4kMUjioBrRc0Eho2xrm8GWc3Sbrxhg9ceUAm6p_px4eI81mq3VO8LXi9HTqXKfrR5H3M69qoxqcOjEYKZDxh9q8prsj4Yd8UUtKgQTrsw9KSpEAQ/s1600/wasforest2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH_RhuDoGnN5cXbDbSfGXkzh4kMUjioBrRc0Eho2xrm8GWc3Sbrxhg9ceUAm6p_px4eI81mq3VO8LXi9HTqXKfrR5H3M69qoxqcOjEYKZDxh9q8prsj4Yd8UUtKgQTrsw9KSpEAQ/s320/wasforest2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606967397125396210" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvQ7Mzk8FBMSCek-4iAwexCRbv5IbalmIh_cawaRc5mXAHgNaDH9_3uxhQs8OMdT6e-__D9txtQQRPQ5pAA6rP25_UsJ1NVmep_T89_Ftkvp1QWeJ4p_6mWwqypSZz1cZPIZHRzQ/s1600/was+forest.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvQ7Mzk8FBMSCek-4iAwexCRbv5IbalmIh_cawaRc5mXAHgNaDH9_3uxhQs8OMdT6e-__D9txtQQRPQ5pAA6rP25_UsJ1NVmep_T89_Ftkvp1QWeJ4p_6mWwqypSZz1cZPIZHRzQ/s320/was+forest.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606967398307281490" /></a><br />There used to be houses. Most are gone and those that are left are nearly unrecognizable. There was a storage facility in the neighborhood. The shell of that is gone but all of the belongings inside of it were left… just sitting there. Power lines were draped across the road. Trees turned into toothpicks. Huge power towers bringing TVA electricity to the county crumpled into piles of twisted metal.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFUw73cWLvlzogSQ_Z-a4My9HUF4Z6Xxw8oD-vGUcQqQ0cH2sUBNUZokwy7vfZuAy2GRaBzNZWeLsHNov7yqnPKXY0p7mkjrwVBhUH2-0k1bobQkQBD1_mcTyXwFySR0Zw9rW-rA/s1600/crumpled.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 219px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFUw73cWLvlzogSQ_Z-a4My9HUF4Z6Xxw8oD-vGUcQqQ0cH2sUBNUZokwy7vfZuAy2GRaBzNZWeLsHNov7yqnPKXY0p7mkjrwVBhUH2-0k1bobQkQBD1_mcTyXwFySR0Zw9rW-rA/s320/crumpled.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606967393958240242" /></a><br /><br /><br />People lost everything they owned. People died on my street, on the next street, and on the next street after that.<br /><br />Most, if not all, of the county was without power. So, while the gas stations had gasoline, they didn’t have electricity to run the pumps. The stores and businesses were mostly shut down because cash registers don’t run without electricity. Some stores were open but it was cash only and correct change, please. Taxes were figured with calculators, pen and paper.<br /><br />My brother drove down from Nashville. He brought beer (very important!), ice (also important!), a propane lantern (teh awesome!), and other supplies. He also brought his chainsaw and a willingness to work. He, along with my friend and neighbors, made quick work of the partially downed tree in my front yard. We went over to my ex-husband’s house and for an hour before he got home, my brother used his chainsaw to reduce some of the trees into manageable branches that my sister-in-law and I dragged to the road. After the ex and my son got there, we took care of more of the downed trees.<br /><br />A few lessons learned:<br />1. Have cash on hand. I usually don’t but I will from now on.<br />2. Have a full tank of gas. Always. Thanks to my friend, I did. Fill up when you get to half a tank. I will from this point forward.<br />3. Have propane. I had a little but not enough.<br />4. Have a generator. Thank you, Mom and Dad. Thank you, my dear friend, for getting it running again. Side note: start the generator at least once a month and make sure it’s always in proper working order…even if you’ve never lost power for more than 15 minutes.<br />5. Have a battery powered radio. I partially have that now. I will completely have that soon.<br />6. Have extra water. We filled containers the next morning because we didn’t know if the water supply would be effected.<br />7. Have shelf-stable foods and a manual can opener.<br /><br />I know there’s more but, honestly, I’m still trying to wrap my brain around what happened here. Two days after the tornados, I drove to Columbia, TN. I thought that because it was off the beaten track, I could go there and get what I needed. No D-cell batteries in the whole town. Propane was found at the Lowe’s. I filled 8 five-gallon cans with gasoline, bought bar oil and two-stroke additive for chainsaws, and stocked up on water and beer and other necessary items. I got lost on the way home and found D-cell batteries at a co-op in Maryville, TN. Go figure.<br /><br />We were without power for ten days. Friends with a gas hot water heater offered up hot showers. I took one cold shower here and decided that conditioner is, despite my previous belief, completely optional. Will never do that again. Brrr. I can cook anyflippingthing on the grill. The Red Cross, particularly the Omaha-based crew working my neighborhood, was wonderful. They provided food, humor, and information. They brought hot lunches and dinners on most days. While I had the ability to cook on my grill, after you’ve worked all day cleaning up branches, debris, mud and other stuff, it sure is nice to have someone else cook dinner. I cooked breakfast every day. I had my neighbors over and offered up refrigerator and freezer space for their food (thankful again for the generator).<br /><br />I will not be complacent about severe weather any more. I have a weather radio now (they used to annoy me). I am preparing a “go bag” to keep in my closet. It is a waterproof backpack with the bare necessities. April 27th and the ten days following taught me what those are.<br /><br />I hope that by writing all of this (and I do apologize for the length), that I’ll stop getting twitchy about dark clouds. I’ve never been a fearful person and I don’t intend to start now.<br /><br />I had damage to my house but no one in my family was injured. I was inconvenienced but was still able to stay in my home.<br /><br />I saw this story about a week after the event. I'd heard that this had happened near me but didn't know there was a news report.<br /><iframe width="560" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/E0kWnPULhok" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br />Ima very thankful gal.<br />(I have a few more pictures but email is slow tonight so I'm not able to quickly retrieve them from my phone - will probably have an update tomorrow.)</p>Ima Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-41932380028858776202011-01-25T16:53:00.002-06:002011-01-25T16:58:49.212-06:00Winning Isn't EverythingI won! I won? Really? I re-entered the numbers from the slip of paper in my hand. I clicked the “Search” button. According to the Powerball website, I was the winner. I had just won forty-one million dollars. I felt light-headed. The corners of my vision started to turn fuzzy and grayish. I reminded myself that breathing was going to be crucial for continued consciousness. <br /><br />Okay. Deep breath. I won? I won! First realization: I don’t have to work. What am I going to do now? The question came quickly. The answer came just as quickly as the question: I’m going to write. I am going to write. <br /><br />The other details started crowding in about making sure my kids were taken care of and paying off my brother’s house and buying my parents a place in Gulf Shores. Sure, I was going to take care of my family but throughout the random “taking care of folks” thoughts, my brain’s town crier was waving a flag and shouting, “I’m going to write! I’m going to write!” I don’t know if I was more excited about winning $41 million or having the freedom to write.<br /><br />Winning the lottery meant that I would be able to devote my time and energy to the activity that brings me joy. I called my parents. After repeatedly telling them that I was not joking, that I had really won, they told me they were on their way to my house. My daughter was in the front yard with her boyfriend. I went out and told them the good news. We jumped up and down in our excitement. They came back into the house with me and I showed them the proof of my incredible luck. Still, not believing what was right in front of me, I entered the numbers again. There was no doubt. I had entered the winning numbers.<br /> <br />I realized I had other numbers on the slip of paper and thought to myself, “What the hell, I’ll check these, too.” I entered the second line of numbers, clicked on the search button and waited. What? This isn’t possible. This just isn’t possible. Twice? I won twice? Fuzzy. Gray. Breathe, woman! Breathe! Forty-three million dollars? This, on top of the forty-one million I’d already won? I checked the third line. Winner. The fourth. Also, a winner. The fifth? Indeed, that one was also a winner. They were all winning numbers. <em>They were all winning numbers.</em> Slowly, mortifyingly, the light began to come on in my head. Winning numbers. I looked at the slip of paper again. Sure enough, right there, on the slip of paper, it said, “Winning Numbers.” Apparently, I’d picked up a print-out of the recent winning numbers. This wasn’t my lottery ticket. <br /><br />I wasn’t a winner. I was an idiot. I was an idiot who wished she could crawl under the floor and die of embarrassment. Despite hair follicles that exude golden strands, I’m usually pretty damned smart. This, however, was The Ultimate Blonde Moment of All Time. I like making people laugh. I like bringing joy to others. This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. <br /><br />It’s been seven years since I “won” the lottery. The story is still bringing joy to my family and making them laugh. What that experience taught me, even more than some much needed humility, was that what I love is writing. I will write. <br /><br />I still occasionally buy lottery tickets. I don’t pick up print-outs of the winning numbers. <br /><br />I will write.Ima Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-20037120145887765602011-01-24T21:24:00.002-06:002011-01-24T21:47:23.307-06:00What's Goin' OnA couple of posts ago, I <a href="http://wordybitch.blogspot.com/2010/11/of-ewoks-and-pudding-and-making-whoopie.html">mentioned that I had some job angst</a>. I last worked a couple of days before Christmas. That sucks when you're a workaholic. By the way, the whoopie pies were good but too sweet. Once I figure out a better solution, I'll post a recipe.<br /><br />So, you may be wondering why I haven't been posting more. After all, I haven't been on the job (save for a day or two) for about a month. Well, in the post I linked to above, I mentioned that I was insane and was planning to take five classes this semester. Boy, howdy. It's probably a good thing that I have this downtime from work.<br /><br />I'm going to take the opportunity to not duplicate effort (that's government speak) in the next couple of days. One of my classes is a creative writing class. Yay! It was part of my grand plan. Yes, I'm taking more than a full load of courses but I needed to make at least one of them something I'd do for fun, if I had time.<br /><br />In my next post, I'm probably going to <a href="http://mockingwords.blogspot.com/2011/01/this-might-explain-applause.html">dance for Mare</a>. Fair warning. Dancing. Showcasing my insanity. Probably tomorrow.<br /><br />In the meantime, I have two haikus for you.<br /><br />I love to travel.<br />New travel regulations.<br />Is this a first date?<br /><br />Dinner and a drink?<br />No, it's a trip for my job.<br />Still, it's second base!Ima Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-27881645363291755882011-01-14T19:10:00.002-06:002011-01-14T19:14:08.910-06:00Random Thought #11I'd like to know just who thought putting the larger cup-size bras on the lowest rack was a good idea. Don't they know it's dangerous to have top-heavy women bend over that far?Ima Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-34257340671522610122010-11-24T20:42:00.002-06:002010-11-24T20:58:02.616-06:00Of Ewoks and Pudding and Making WhoopieSo, in addition to the fun-filled and exhausting days of work and school, I also managed to get bronchitis and sinusitus. Turns out that if I'm ever exposed to anthrax, I am completely screwed because I found out (the hard way) that I'm allergic to Cipro. After a good run of antibiotics to which I am NOT allergic, I managed to get the mother of all colds. <br /><br />Oh, and my job situation is in complete and utter turmoil. For the past several months, it's been a roller coaster of stress. I didn't know if I'd have a job on October 1st until late September. I didn't know if I'd have a job on November 1st until late October. I still don't have confirmation that I have a job on December 1st although it does seem likely but then, of course, it's back to wondering if I have a job on January 1st. After that, I will either definitely be employed or I will definitely not be employed. Makes it a little hard to plan for much of anything.<br /><br />Thus, I've spent the majority of the month of November either whining or in a strange fog of ewok-filled pudding dreams and whining...lots and lots of whining. But that's all over now and I am right in the middle of making whoopie...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Whoopie pies, that is. Pumpkin whoopie pies to be exact. What? You thought I'd be blogging about sexual adventures? First of all, um, NO. Secondly, even though we've already established the fact that I am insane, between work and school and making whoopie pies, there is no time for much of anything else. Oh, and I'm learning (re-learning?) Spanish.<br /><br />So, rather than whining, I've decided to give it up for a day or two and see how that works out for me. Hopefully, I'll be able to let you know how that goes. If I'm not back soon, do not assume that my head exploded from unrelieved-by-whining stress... unless, of course, you hear about a woman in Alabama who was found with her head all exploded from stress and shit.<br /><br />If the whoopie pies are good, I'll post a recipe.<br /><br />I also want to rant (different than whining) about the TSA and the new "You can't see London, can't see France, unless we see your underpants" policy.Ima Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-44645644638609289262010-10-29T01:47:00.004-05:002010-10-29T02:09:03.843-05:00RevelationMuthah fuckah.<br /><br />Blogger ate my post.<br /><br />It's okay, though. It was self-serving whining about how I'm working too hard and how that effects what I eat and drink. Really, it was so boring I almost fell asleep writing it.<br /><br />I'll try for something more invigorating tomorrow.<br /><br />In the meantime, have you seen <a href="http://lambicpentameter.com/">BethLamPen</a>? Freakin' awesome.Ima Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28395622.post-8073529437499088582010-10-22T16:34:00.003-05:002010-10-22T16:38:10.152-05:00Educating ImaAfter a more than decade-long break from educational endeavors, I got back on the path to getting my degree at the beginning of this year. I’m nearing the end of my third semester and am so very thankful for online classes. They make it possible to continue working 50-60 hours a week while still gettin’ me some learnin’. I can view lectures, complete homework, and take tests online from anywhere I happen to be. <br /><br />We use a system called Blackboard for the online classes. It’s pretty good. Discussion boards, library links, relevant videos, chat capabilities, course materials, and links to textbook publisher sites all make it very useful. My university also uses it to post information of interest to students and graduates: notices on job fairs, campus events, etc. There’s room for improvement but overall, I really like Blackboard. <br /><br />When I have an annoying professor, I can roll my eyes without fear of retribution in grading. I can fast-forward past boring or unnecessary portions of the lecture. Once, after twenty minutes of a lecture, I’d had enough and screamed at my monitor, “He <strong><em>is</em></strong>! They <strong><em>are</em></strong>!” Blackboard/Tegrity benefit: My cat was the only one startled by my outburst. I mean, come on, buddy. I know we’re in Alabama and this isn’t a composition class but this is a four-year university. I’m paying a boatload of cash out of my own pocket for my education and I deserve proper grammar from my professors. /end whine<br /><br />I’ve been taking two classes per semester up to this point but I have a path and a plan that will have me graduating in mid-2012. That plan includes taking five classes next semester…<br /><br /><em>…because I’m insane.</em><br /><br />While I plan to start taking at least one class per semester on campus, I will continue to take most of my classes online. Fortunately, since I will no longer have any kind of personal life whatsoever, I was quite pleased to see that the folks running our Blackboard have decided to include humor with the other postings.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJksGnvLYWWWUiQv-lVCF0qvDSqxtOSE6J0fOiMIM-lNP2afjKDjg4DECcWaA3yqtW9Ka0-WUFaUZTj-mEu42Lv-KdyHFAyIzN9QpjBK4xjIfKEaTi1BH1QBTWLCGYolGTFbkndg/s1600/helpwanted.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 295px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJksGnvLYWWWUiQv-lVCF0qvDSqxtOSE6J0fOiMIM-lNP2afjKDjg4DECcWaA3yqtW9Ka0-WUFaUZTj-mEu42Lv-KdyHFAyIzN9QpjBK4xjIfKEaTi1BH1QBTWLCGYolGTFbkndg/s320/helpwanted.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530987628957175330" /></a>Ima Wurdibitschhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16318902722661315000noreply@blogger.com1