tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89915586264679304202024-02-07T18:21:19.305-05:00Rachel Baron Creates...Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17031641754764966375noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991558626467930420.post-42821713051578358472017-01-23T21:07:00.000-05:002017-01-23T21:07:07.613-05:00Create Every Day Week 3Again, life loves to suck time away from my creative allowance. But I did manage to make a couple of cool pieces, both related to a man I admire and love to listen to: <a href="http://frank-turner.com/">Frank Turner</a>. If you don't know his music, and you love intelligent lyrics and good old fashioned rock n' roll with a splash of punk, you really need to check him out.<br />
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The first piece is from my Photoshop class. We were supposed to focus on using and manipulating text...so I chose a favorite song lyric, and then just let my muse take over, creating a background for the words.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjREIX7BdSULIeFIJzjTSHheO-t6JOaDe-31m97XB26fc14G64bJgj7SHWvhl38TJLrR_GJjnu839nzQOrHULkSLmccolfuRYgKRoKTiRiT2u3wMAkJf5CNwdT_GBXa2HPjHW-xKN66Ehc/s1600/lesson+9+assignment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjREIX7BdSULIeFIJzjTSHheO-t6JOaDe-31m97XB26fc14G64bJgj7SHWvhl38TJLrR_GJjnu839nzQOrHULkSLmccolfuRYgKRoKTiRiT2u3wMAkJf5CNwdT_GBXa2HPjHW-xKN66Ehc/s400/lesson+9+assignment.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isn't he beautiful?</td></tr>
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The second "piece" I have to share is a T-shirt I made (no, I do not sew) covered in favorite Frank Turner lyrics, to wear to, you guessed it--a Frank Turner concert this past weekend. This took a couple days to do. The fabric markers did not flow well on fabric, which made it very slow going to write anything legibly. The picture here is the aftermath of the concert, so it's a wrinkled, rock concert mess. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkNIxAVRXTXP_3P8bpV-VYJgCQfbeuhMXJKxrmgNkFGll4uLmmmP6j_viUs0AKgGoXDj-IlSGdMV8E9iW-AM6PF7x8n8du6ncHP6xE_E5lk1N4nXItxc9ke_0ZjMXie3FYWl1mznFbu4g/s1600/20170123_201104.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkNIxAVRXTXP_3P8bpV-VYJgCQfbeuhMXJKxrmgNkFGll4uLmmmP6j_viUs0AKgGoXDj-IlSGdMV8E9iW-AM6PF7x8n8du6ncHP6xE_E5lk1N4nXItxc9ke_0ZjMXie3FYWl1mznFbu4g/s400/20170123_201104.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Front Side</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back side</td></tr>
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Yes, Frank Turner's music is an inspiration. Proving that putting creativity and beauty out into the universe is the best way to make sure it grows!</div>
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<br />Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17031641754764966375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991558626467930420.post-18499219396046485472017-01-16T20:01:00.000-05:002017-01-16T20:01:34.520-05:00Create Every Day Week 2Being back at work is infringing on my creative time. For those that don't know me, I am a special education teacher plus I work after hours at an alternative education program. My day runs, non-stop from 7:30 - 4:30. When I say non-stop, I really mean it--I have someone who needs me, is looking for me, or is creating more work for me, every second of every day.<br />
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So I leave work absolutely exhausted. By the time I get home and sit down, my brain is pretty useless for a couple of hours. So this past week, I was physically unable to create every day. I honestly didn't have the energy and brain capacity.<br />
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But I did try to fit it in when I was feeling like I could string a coherent thought together. One night I just colored. Until my new kitty decided that the colored pencils were the bane of his existence and he needed to DESTROY! Kind of hard to stay in the lines with a ten pound, furry ball of crazy climbing all over you.<br />
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Here are the other pieces I managed to squeeze in.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijtdmIK44miGDDNVJFkinBMV-xXH_P2DlLGgpLtI6hJcym2HTV7Sey5HDuG0ysD39_DspnV2Np1F7MCpsOpduPVNx4R7vwAjqCnuT_OITGK6qdY9B750mu6P0iHFj80Ip8Q3Tqss78C_Y/s1600/assignment7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijtdmIK44miGDDNVJFkinBMV-xXH_P2DlLGgpLtI6hJcym2HTV7Sey5HDuG0ysD39_DspnV2Np1F7MCpsOpduPVNx4R7vwAjqCnuT_OITGK6qdY9B750mu6P0iHFj80Ip8Q3Tqss78C_Y/s400/assignment7.jpg" width="367" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photoshop assignment for class, practicing using & creating brushes. The subject is above said ball of kitty terror.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another Photoshop assignment. This one I found kind of boring, but there's a lot that went into the picture--just doesn't look like much!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKEbJIOuqhLHDrsmFhyphenhyphensE0pA6IM3B2MgCVr-pxFabtqBqExreVGZIHhWzjHd_GfUZvr5v2ivy_oUFWOW12bWGbPdy6fP3CXUQSsLmIcQy-REIJsjdWUag8a3Tg9548m7TUyrK9PbTySsk/s1600/20170116_193708.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKEbJIOuqhLHDrsmFhyphenhyphensE0pA6IM3B2MgCVr-pxFabtqBqExreVGZIHhWzjHd_GfUZvr5v2ivy_oUFWOW12bWGbPdy6fP3CXUQSsLmIcQy-REIJsjdWUag8a3Tg9548m7TUyrK9PbTySsk/s400/20170116_193708.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The single alcohol ink painting I played with. Working on more fields & multi-toned backgrounds. Trying all sorts of techniques to create flowers that I like.</td></tr>
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I have already my Monday piece for next week, so I know I will have at least one fun thing to share next time! Enjoy your week!<br />
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<br />Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17031641754764966375noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991558626467930420.post-35244997494334808842017-01-07T13:15:00.000-05:002017-01-07T13:15:41.028-05:00Create Every Day 2017I need to be creative as much as I need to breathe oxygen. When life gets so busy that I let my creative time get eaten by the stress monster, I begin to feel like I am dying inside. I'm not using hyperbole here. I believe my soul starts to wither if I can't make something that, hopefully, adds some beauty to the universe.<div>
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I decided I wanted to challenge myself to create every day; and interestingly enough, so have a number of my artistic friends on Facebook. I guess our world needs as much beauty created as it can get right now.</div>
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I tend to work small and fast when I am in my creative mode. My mind begins to race, in a healthy way, and I allow the muses to take flight and guide my hands. It's freeing and restorative, and allows a short window of time that is all about feeding my soul.</div>
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This first week of 2017, I played with two mediums. First is alcohol inks. I had taken an alcohol ink mini-course last winter, and love the free and unexpected nature of the medium. They can be a you-know-what to control, but that is what I love. I might start out with an idea when I first drip the inks on the paper, but end up with something completely unexpected. Here are the first few pieces I made, some of which will be used as background for mixed media pieces in the future.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB5Arc-KpqIbzKHeH-JKoznknPoGgHTvPYRaZhG9T1nSP5f_EH5tDpgn5PIOnzgVOQOwBZo6gExplaleBHNNmMvY0AwBVSyqikQGDg_w4k55FOP_7_4keyqd-kVnZTMgs95_p7IfLkg3w/s1600/20170102_142431.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB5Arc-KpqIbzKHeH-JKoznknPoGgHTvPYRaZhG9T1nSP5f_EH5tDpgn5PIOnzgVOQOwBZo6gExplaleBHNNmMvY0AwBVSyqikQGDg_w4k55FOP_7_4keyqd-kVnZTMgs95_p7IfLkg3w/s400/20170102_142431.jpg" width="286" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Practice with blending colors and using a felt pad to create texture</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm-f5E5eyhuW0fPrKGGD94cSVLakGr_DQQ115npv1IoC1UkmAgMMjhVva0qyUGe01p2CRDwxuUxVlfouyjwAcqVPhMqFvV46zlFratV5cdrcq7jt7ZohWyNx8TlqZCxUIZxoVLK35wJow/s1600/20170102_142346.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm-f5E5eyhuW0fPrKGGD94cSVLakGr_DQQ115npv1IoC1UkmAgMMjhVva0qyUGe01p2CRDwxuUxVlfouyjwAcqVPhMqFvV46zlFratV5cdrcq7jt7ZohWyNx8TlqZCxUIZxoVLK35wJow/s400/20170102_142346.jpg" width="285" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More practice creating texture, and trying to create some floral motifs. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2hCY_4io3QjvyTlQNKUw-bJqTjTWA77UJ29euCo1ufF3k347QPBa60YWSY6NoaMnHTM-Vsvwv-BkV6yWZayNUMvYJXLyRB7EsZYgSQA26OMmAenXbWrgwf25atHs5RYzM5HA2SBFCSX0/s1600/20170102_142319.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2hCY_4io3QjvyTlQNKUw-bJqTjTWA77UJ29euCo1ufF3k347QPBa60YWSY6NoaMnHTM-Vsvwv-BkV6yWZayNUMvYJXLyRB7EsZYgSQA26OMmAenXbWrgwf25atHs5RYzM5HA2SBFCSX0/s400/20170102_142319.jpg" width="263" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An attempt at a sunset...I like the texture on the beach, but that's about it. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_YIuf0EZLAfiJhshyVgO8M5JOyvrvavSOtiGMeyF2JCDW8VSntb4RlZrutL5536u0-_GSw0BvFOqnuJyVurXazS5r4MiOR0h4BOXDvYPrhYdwjAxIhT2x81pOY1QsNgRoaeFFx9bZiCA/s1600/20170102_223549.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_YIuf0EZLAfiJhshyVgO8M5JOyvrvavSOtiGMeyF2JCDW8VSntb4RlZrutL5536u0-_GSw0BvFOqnuJyVurXazS5r4MiOR0h4BOXDvYPrhYdwjAxIhT2x81pOY1QsNgRoaeFFx9bZiCA/s400/20170102_223549.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This started as a landscape-oriented piece, but I extended the path too high on the piece. I ended up rotating the piece and creating a field of flowers instead.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCpwnnPM0gm_ELM1kBU1Kmjj311giuX0VQta5h-XVVqL7X2QT9kjaZC0x5rQyIMH_i6m0c2X8v2cxQefzGwlppRwbd0k6E5EWG9OFIJmDqSPziBsSiBGKIMPp5T_JlgKG8RG0uoxUSE_w/s1600/20170106_181356.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCpwnnPM0gm_ELM1kBU1Kmjj311giuX0VQta5h-XVVqL7X2QT9kjaZC0x5rQyIMH_i6m0c2X8v2cxQefzGwlppRwbd0k6E5EWG9OFIJmDqSPziBsSiBGKIMPp5T_JlgKG8RG0uoxUSE_w/s400/20170106_181356.jpg" width="281" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another piece that started out with a landcape orientation. My idea was to create a Northern Lights effect. It wasn't working, as I wanted, but I kept playing. Then when I rotated the piece, I saw the face profile...do you?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj81so7bdeqEXr3t2MrkDTggQnxpHibyvgnVbvnZhMho4oQsuhG3QO_UPRHt2RNI_MvhDEUQqcX_zYsHtZqd2xVFhnyHU2vlOV_rEkEieHvLvYWxHOK1fzOgdgSiwPrZuL5fZX4SOY3p9Q/s1600/20170106_181247.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj81so7bdeqEXr3t2MrkDTggQnxpHibyvgnVbvnZhMho4oQsuhG3QO_UPRHt2RNI_MvhDEUQqcX_zYsHtZqd2xVFhnyHU2vlOV_rEkEieHvLvYWxHOK1fzOgdgSiwPrZuL5fZX4SOY3p9Q/s400/20170106_181247.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More attempts at an aurora, but using a different technique. I picked contrasting colors on purpose, and have plans for using this in a mixed media piece about dreams.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS-FJd5mmRWEt3u6Evy1JkAvk333NE1w7WlrGtADItoxldh9zKheJKAKggcmG2VhvFXYvZBBRqJ9Y4FHGcNecs1bTVEav2kjbPIbDNY7U_NBLLLv0n5rIKvUf_swYtghY868BP_a7f1Ec/s1600/20170106_181153_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS-FJd5mmRWEt3u6Evy1JkAvk333NE1w7WlrGtADItoxldh9zKheJKAKggcmG2VhvFXYvZBBRqJ9Y4FHGcNecs1bTVEav2kjbPIbDNY7U_NBLLLv0n5rIKvUf_swYtghY868BP_a7f1Ec/s400/20170106_181153_001.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was the most recent piece. This one started out completely upside down...and as I played, it turned into more of an alien landscape of cliffs and a gorgeous green sky.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdQ5FKUzsX9F-12olg0lo5IKt1jfOXXDJdh9ToLyT_4QGPKtHAXMk7B3oQWKqWClFn8i2sYyS2iE_osNeRfRJ9wXly3RmzZ50EhrO-wvfWhU3tPzU0PO0M7_Q-XQ5XM0ezlxvbPZc_QMs/s1600/photoshop+pansy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdQ5FKUzsX9F-12olg0lo5IKt1jfOXXDJdh9ToLyT_4QGPKtHAXMk7B3oQWKqWClFn8i2sYyS2iE_osNeRfRJ9wXly3RmzZ50EhrO-wvfWhU3tPzU0PO0M7_Q-XQ5XM0ezlxvbPZc_QMs/s400/photoshop+pansy.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finally, I am taking a Photoshop class. Here is the piece I like most from this week's assignments. Fun with masking, filters and making composite pieces.</td></tr>
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I plan on playing more with the alcohol inks, and begin to add some techniques using brushes to add details. And who knows what Photoshop assignments might strike my fancy this week? Or I might make some glass beads, or a piece of jewelry? As long as I create every day, the possibilities are endless!<br />
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Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17031641754764966375noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991558626467930420.post-2426737430043942112016-12-28T14:06:00.000-05:002016-12-28T14:08:10.277-05:00You Suck 2016The flurry of celebrity deaths this year felt like repeated punches to the gut for a number of us. With the most recent, Carrie Fisher, a lot of people, especially in my age range (30s-50s) appear at the peak of frustration with this monster that we are calling 2016.<br />
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I've seen a lot of posts on social media, some made by people I respect, telling those of us feeling these frustrations to "get a grip". Lots of people have died this year, which is true and part of the beautiful tragedy that is life as a human being. In no way does public grief lessen the personal, private grief one feels with the loss of a close loved one.<br />
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But the celebrity deaths that struck us this year are more than just the passing of another human. I would venture to guess that 99% of us who feel this sadness and loss never met these humans in person. But that just doesn't matter. They were our heroes, and that is what makes 2016 and it's multitude of losses so hard to take.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">So, for those telling us that we need to gain some perspective, here is some perspective for you.</span></blockquote>
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Prince was one of the first people I saw who didn't give a fuck about what other people thought, and was solidly, 100% himself in the face of a society that still requires its youth to be cookie cutter perfection in order to feel loved. Prince was flashy, liquid sex, playing a guitar in a time when men with a pierced ear were still immediately pegged as gay. Prince's music was fun, more than a bit naughty and alive. Prince taught me that you can be a success while staying true to yourself.<br />
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I was too young to appreciate David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust phase when growing up, but his music brought happiness to a young girl who used music to escape the sadness of feeling alone, as she knew she was different from her classmates, but that required being isolated from the "norm". There was something magical about David Bowie I could feel and appreciate as a teen. As I grew older, I learned there was wisdom in that magic, and he was a true artist. There will never be another like him.<br />
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Leonard Cohen wrote songs that still, to this day, force me to pause and just listen to the graceful words and haunted melodies. These are glorious moments, escaping from this world that is very often hard and cold, and without song. This is the power of music, and some souls are gifted with the ability to weave such tapestries of song, they help the world to stop and take a breath.<br />
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Obviously, music was, and still is, very important to me, not for fun, but for survival. The idea that these beautiful souls will no longer be creating beauty deserves a mourning of sorts. The anger that one feels towards this loss is justified. But music heroes weren't the only ones we lost.<br />
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Carrie Fisher. This one hurt. Like most young women age, Princess Leia was the first female lead in a movie who was beautiful, yes, but a total badass. She took charge, took no crap, and easily put domineering men in their place with the weapon of words and a look. Yes, Princess Leia was a character construct, but Carrie Fisher brought her to life, and as we would find out, the fierceness of the Princess was a reflection of the woman who payed the role. Carrie Fisher continued to live her life with a fierceness, sharing her struggles with mental illness in a time when the stigma still continues to thrive, and refusing to take shit from anyone. I loved her for sharing her soul, hopefully knowing that she helped many struggling women know that they are not alone in their pain.<br />
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This is why 2016 sucks. It hurts to lose a hero. To be repeatedly pummeled by loss affects all but the most disconnected of us. Or it should. Maybe they weren't your heroes, and you can't understand. Maybe the world doesn't need you to understand. Maybe it just needs you to respect that other people you might call friends feel as if one too may stars have gone dark this year.<br />
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This list of four artists isn't meant to give any more power to one over the other, or to diminish the losses of so many others this year. But my world is different now. I need to continue to search for new heroes to give me strength when I am weak and find solace when my soul feels it is being pulled apart by darkness. But for this moment, allow me to grieve, without judgement and without condescension. As humans, that is one gift we should allow each other.<br />
<br />Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17031641754764966375noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991558626467930420.post-4687751105579100782014-01-05T21:55:00.000-05:002014-01-05T21:55:19.849-05:00When to Say When...Part of my job as a special educator is to see within the student for the best part of them. This allows me to connect with them and gives me the motivation to keep pushing them to succeed. This is the part of my job that I actually do the best. I never, ever give up on a kid. Never.<br />
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But that's at work. Not real life. Not really.<br />
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So I pose the question: When do you know it's time to give up on somebody?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdhGjJC-8320dF0rWSSpOkkiW_bPtdSRsnrme7Qvqz_tSCb1L22FKcmpGKBxEcKymCwAsdTuFNrGc6JYuDuxLSHuExNkY-SoX90lbSscCdZXO9hJxKPcOi6bU2lV8CZOcWcDB8f5syKEc/s1600/cocaine-addiction.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdhGjJC-8320dF0rWSSpOkkiW_bPtdSRsnrme7Qvqz_tSCb1L22FKcmpGKBxEcKymCwAsdTuFNrGc6JYuDuxLSHuExNkY-SoX90lbSscCdZXO9hJxKPcOi6bU2lV8CZOcWcDB8f5syKEc/s1600/cocaine-addiction.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://easyread.drugabuse.gov/images/cocaine-addiction.jpg">Source</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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This isn't a "poor me" post. Far from it. I realize that there are millions of people out there, in toxic relationships, some formed by DNA, others by chance, who are struggling with the need to just say, "enough of your shit." Parents of drug addicts, children of alcoholics, friends of those who only take, mates of those taken for granted; all of them likely wonder when enough will become too much.<br />
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When do you allow yourself to say, "enough of your shit"? When will self-preservation kick in, and allow you to turn and walk away from someone who no longer deserves to have you in their life?<br />
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I believe love is one of the most nourishing and most self-destructive forces humans encounter. The same love that can hold you up and make every single color ten shades brighter is the same as the love that attaches you to someone that siphons off your life force drop by drop.<br />
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People will say, "those loves are not the same." Yes. They are. One lives in the light. The other lives in the darkness.<br />
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Love is about connection. Plain and simple. And sometimes the connections we form are with those people who will only drain, not replenish. We find ourselves lessened, marginalized when we are with them, which only forces us to desire more the very thing they refuse to, or can't, give back.<br />
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But will they change? This is a legitimate question. It connects back to my point above about being an effective special educator. You need to find the good in people, even when they try to hide it. And when you do, it becomes very easy to believe more in the possibilities of them being that amazing person, rather than accepting the reality of who they are choosing to be at that moment--especially if who they are is breaking your heart.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<br />
<span style="color: #741b47;"><i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"there is no amount of love, compassion or patience that will help heal a person who wants to remain broken"</span></span></i></span></blockquote>
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One of the hardest lessons I had to learn in 2013 was that there is no amount of love, compassion and patience that will help heal a person who wants to remain broken. It is profoundly sad, it is heartbreaking, it is soul-crushing to watch someone insist on remaining in pain and refuse their potential. But there is absolutely nothing you can do if they insist on living in that dark place.<br />
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Well, that's not entirely true. You can choose to walk away. But it is hard. So hard. So easy to think that maybe just one more dose of love, one more connected moment, one more...something, will be the miracle.<br />
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You can choose to walk away--you. Only you. And that is OK. It's OK to feel like the burden of caring for a person who can't care for themselves is like a thousand pound weight gone from your shoulders. It's OK to mourn the person you hoped they could be, as long as you wipe your tears and realize that you a mourning an idea, not a person. It's OK to walk away.<br />
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What's not OK is to believe that the damaged version of yourself that was created when you were with that person is the real you. It's not. It's a wounded you. Worn down by trying too hard against an immovable force. Remember who you were before you met this person. Allow yourself some rest. Find your song. Find your smile. And leave behind those that would smother your spark.Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17031641754764966375noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991558626467930420.post-8905267477006820432012-05-28T13:59:00.000-04:002012-05-28T15:48:47.505-04:00Thank You for Being My DogToday is my dog's 5th Birthday. I've tried to forbid her from getting older, but despite my belief that magic does exist, I've been unable to prevent the inevitable. She is now in doggy middle-age. Not that you'd know it to look at her.<br />
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People who don't have pets really don't understand people that celebrate their pets birthdays. And that's OK, because, frankly, we don't understand *you* either.<br />
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And even though Zoe doesn't speak human, except for "ride", "out" and, "timbit", I'd still like to take this chance to thank her for the honor of allowing me to be her human companion. Maybe I'm really thanking the universe for sending her to me, and I know *it* is listening. So thank you, Zoe. Thank you for filling my heart again with love after losing my beloved Jasper. Thank you for loving me, even when I am uncomfortably human. Thank you for curling up to my side when I was sobbing the life I knew away during my divorce. Thank you for celebrating my new life with so much joy and enthusiasm. Thank you for waking me each day with sloppy kisses, even when I am screaming in desperation for you to stop sliming me.<br />
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If you have a dog, or any pet, make sure you let them know how important they are to you. You are blessed with the closest thing we have to angels walking on earth. Angels we need to pick up poop for, but angels nonetheless.<br />
<br />Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17031641754764966375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991558626467930420.post-16562496812792604382011-08-27T16:14:00.000-04:002011-08-27T16:14:28.275-04:00Best use of a new camera...EVER!Wow, it's been a month since I posted? What the heck have I been doing? Oh, that's right...enjoying my summer! I should warn you know that if you love dogs, you will love this post. If you don't love dogs...what the hell is wrong with you?<br />
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Sadly, my old trusty, refurbished, 5 megapixel camera decided to bite the dust recently. I had planned on getting a new camera, just not right now. Being a teacher means being broke the last couple weeks of August and the first week of September, and shelling out a few hundred for a camera right now was not what I had planned for. But the universe doesn't really care what we want, so it killed my camera. Thanks, universe, you're a peach.<br />
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Why I am babbling about a camera? Because my new one has a setting where you can take "rapid burst" shots; that is multiple shots of moving objects within a second or so. It's amazing if you have a moving object in front of you. Which I usually do. Enter Zoe, the world's craziest chocolate lab.<br />
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So what have I been doing with my new, expensive camera? Taking multiple (OK, hundreds) of pictured of Zoe. she now knows what it is like to be stalked by the paparazzi, though she puts up with it, because the paparazzi also feeds her. Maybe the real paparazzi should take the hint, and start bringing burgers and fries with them as a peace offering when they go on "assignment".<br />
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I'll shut up now, and share with you some of the goofier snapshots. I dare you not to smile.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And Happy Dog is Happy. =)</td></tr>
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Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17031641754764966375noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991558626467930420.post-3181681217209891702011-07-28T20:11:00.001-04:002011-07-28T20:12:19.692-04:00Lemons + Sugar Water = Heaven in a glassI've managed to cross another one of my "40 by 40" items off of my list: #29 was to make homemade lemonade. No Country Time crap allowed. I'm not even sure why I really put this on my list other than the few times I have had homemade lemonade at street fairs, it was a gustatory orgasm. I guess that can be reason enough.<br />
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Who knew there was a recipe? Apparently what makes handmade lemonade taste so good is the ridiculous amount of sugar required. I thought it couldn't possible dissolve in the small amount of water the recipe stated, but, lo and behold, it worked.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOW2I7S2r_D6tOlF81KV5Of8phlu0pfZyfSCefpFfB2ZGho7f3EnYJ-ZkNFABsypNTZBrJt-tNjkKlOi1ZkSsNMKMCGoxzu96LpQT0l7enIKZnRVs3sjHDrWFYZDL3pl44D2rAf36pWmg/s1600/267003_2263185744087_1381792635_32640492_403932_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="380" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOW2I7S2r_D6tOlF81KV5Of8phlu0pfZyfSCefpFfB2ZGho7f3EnYJ-ZkNFABsypNTZBrJt-tNjkKlOi1ZkSsNMKMCGoxzu96LpQT0l7enIKZnRVs3sjHDrWFYZDL3pl44D2rAf36pWmg/s640/267003_2263185744087_1381792635_32640492_403932_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See that kids? That's sugar water!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Next came the painstaking task of juicing the lemons. I say painstaking, because I don't own a juicer, not even the cheap little plastic ones that look like a baby's toy. I squeezed all of those suckers by hand. BY HAND!<br />
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But, damn, it was worth it!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_yKVysk-3Kp5aGB9Wm6dBucZyu8C60OFNi9YbZneaIzHgbeuFQClWacuCiYhYjxqoN0eGzPAtD9EJjR0bup-Ijs3ZPyzFhBgLNMr8tXO6erhEabq8FWjk5yhPsh05bJ7aF3so4BIDzKA/s1600/280544_2263184224049_1381792635_32640491_6236084_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="382" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_yKVysk-3Kp5aGB9Wm6dBucZyu8C60OFNi9YbZneaIzHgbeuFQClWacuCiYhYjxqoN0eGzPAtD9EJjR0bup-Ijs3ZPyzFhBgLNMr8tXO6erhEabq8FWjk5yhPsh05bJ7aF3so4BIDzKA/s640/280544_2263184224049_1381792635_32640491_6236084_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Screw ambrosia! Lemonade is where it's at!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I wanted to cry, it was so damn good. I will never, ever drink the manufactured crap again. And honestly, the recipe was so easy. I got it off of Allrecipes.com. Click <a href="http://allrecipes.com/recipe/best-lemonade-ever/detail.aspx">here</a> if you want to create your own handmade, orgasmic lemonade!Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17031641754764966375noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991558626467930420.post-56923205793028720572011-07-22T13:24:00.001-04:002011-07-22T13:25:20.202-04:00Fresh, hot crabs & ditching EllicottvilleSo my <a href="http://rachelbaron.wordpress.com/2010/12/31/40-by-40-watch-out-world/">"40 by 40</a>" list is progressing painfully slow. Painfully. Slow. Which is why I started it over two years before I turn 40...because I'm a procrastinator like that. But I have managed to cross a couple off of the list!<br />
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Number 8 was to eat fish caught that day from the ocean. Which I kind of did. Only they were crabs...tasty, tasty blue crabs. On vacation in Delaware, I had to opportunity to attack a mound of these babies, twice, with a little help from some friends.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivoyGtdnm8K9JISwHDUUSkkCW_tCIxJZQrA15B3a4mFH5MBP-Uco_qJi6ZYPvsEcKJ3-Bz3XLdrPOOSZfAtAiFnjFwBnt1eHmntFHnCzZkiqqfRLC3yvzAvfJYeYyiCa9tPBgw3kN3iIs/s1600/279641_2221109972219_1381792635_32582977_5162873_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="382" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivoyGtdnm8K9JISwHDUUSkkCW_tCIxJZQrA15B3a4mFH5MBP-Uco_qJi6ZYPvsEcKJ3-Bz3XLdrPOOSZfAtAiFnjFwBnt1eHmntFHnCzZkiqqfRLC3yvzAvfJYeYyiCa9tPBgw3kN3iIs/s640/279641_2221109972219_1381792635_32582977_5162873_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fresh, hot, crabs...mmmmmm</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Eating these crabs was proof that the "food can be fun" experience can still be had when you're an adult. In addition to the crab, I had the best fresh salmon ever, and a fresh cod fillet. Considering I live in Buffalo, NY, I'm a little worried about the fact that fresh fish is hard to come by, and will be forced to resume eating the frozen kind once more.<br />
<br />
Another item on the list was Number 9: Visit Ellicottville for the day. I had always heard others speak of Ellicottville as a great place to go have some fun. I drove through Ellicottville recently, on my way to another destination, and frankly, I was unimpressed. So I visited Ellicottville for the 45 seconds it took for me to drive through the main part of town, and I'm declaring that enough. Unless someone wants to show me the other side of Ellicottville, which makes it something special.<br />
<ol style="color: #4a4a49; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 1em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.2em; margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 1.2em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"></ol>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17031641754764966375noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991558626467930420.post-43883299909087289282011-07-19T21:40:00.000-04:002011-07-19T21:40:55.579-04:00Proof you're never too old to act like a giggling 14 year old girl.I am way behind on my blog here. Waaaaay behind. Sorry about that. I wish I could say my absence was due to the fact that I rescued and rehabilitated a multitude of blind, three-legged puppies, but I was just being lazy. After the school year ended, I didn't want to do anything that required more thought than, say, breathing.<br />
<br />
But I have been having fun. I read a post by <a href="http://johnnybtruant.com/the-universe-doesnt-give-a-flying-fuck-about-you/">Johnny B. Truant</a> which simultaneously reminded me that I am but a blip on the screen, and caused me to grow a pair of <i>cojones</i> for once. I may be a blip, but I was going to start doing epic shit.<br />
<br />
Enter <a href="http://www.lowestofthelow.com/">The Lowest of the Low</a>. I've mentioned them before, when I decided,<a href="http://rachelbaron.blogspot.com/2011/04/ill-take-ron-hawkins-thanks-for-idea.html"> if I was going to buy a Canadian</a>, it would be Ron Hawkins. They were playing at Buffalo's Thursday in the Square, which was moved to the Central Wharf. That's Buffalo, always changing their minds.<br />
<br />
They were freaking awesome.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbs4MDpcFJBjWL6TYJRyqTAbSAxVcXKnxYAxwtNhC-9nAT5peewGuV7_Amnnk4pa3CBKtLQkb1Wz66x5BpvarRUOd2nQw1RfZ882rgbQismS4M4m4-CXhgbHKA4EP2HlzCpvZwbGtcV-Q/s1600/260502_2203986664147_1381792635_32555931_7327198_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbs4MDpcFJBjWL6TYJRyqTAbSAxVcXKnxYAxwtNhC-9nAT5peewGuV7_Amnnk4pa3CBKtLQkb1Wz66x5BpvarRUOd2nQw1RfZ882rgbQismS4M4m4-CXhgbHKA4EP2HlzCpvZwbGtcV-Q/s320/260502_2203986664147_1381792635_32555931_7327198_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nice close up of Ron on the jumbo tron...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>After the concert ended, much too early, people slowly filed their way out of the wharf. My friends, Amy and Janine had enjoyed the concert with me, albeit, I don't think either one of them ever gave thought to actually buying Ron Hawkins. But I'm used to be the oddball, and frankly I don't want anyone else getting ideas about buying Ron, because then there would be a bidding war, and I am working with a teacher's salary here, people!<br />
<br />
So as we are slowly filing our way out, we see him. Amy and I start giggling like a couple of choir camp nerds running into Josh Grobin at the supermarket. OMG! It's Ron Hawkins! And because we can sometime be really, really lame, we first tried to do the "fake" pic with a celebrity thing. Notice Amy looking suave, trying to appear next to the blob that is Ron Hawkins' head.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs5HiykXThhcuHjPV_ca3sRFvxljDPwScYuHLj90AtVIPC0IQF_nb6TZaXY9zP-I5-Nx4_uyBFI8Zgw-BJbEZ_5DjtKSuTQsmWOO7GT_Reuhnf9dg8BKqYWDy3M2MwLgr92vFrcOnf8Vk/s1600/266576_2205236855401_1381792635_32557637_8173153_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs5HiykXThhcuHjPV_ca3sRFvxljDPwScYuHLj90AtVIPC0IQF_nb6TZaXY9zP-I5-Nx4_uyBFI8Zgw-BJbEZ_5DjtKSuTQsmWOO7GT_Reuhnf9dg8BKqYWDy3M2MwLgr92vFrcOnf8Vk/s320/266576_2205236855401_1381792635_32557637_8173153_o.jpg" width="191" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Very smooth.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Looking at this pic on my phone, I began to feel disgraced. I was supposed to be doing epic shit. Not lame-ass shit. So I said what the hell...and actually spoke to Ron Hawkins, even if it was just to ask if he would take a pic with two middle-aged broads.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9CMd1blU-PyVuM0w9iM0MuE2y3tLr4CSxn5tZrp4R7-zB4EuJ_KgaSgdr7KNwb_rsFzJd-mRBCJcyszZEvYMRcPyDXFDSs4JHq0TKjbc2oM_EN09Nb5Sxd962gpCmhWHKknf6wBjnohc/s1600/272896_2204250030731_1381792635_32556253_4001385_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="380" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9CMd1blU-PyVuM0w9iM0MuE2y3tLr4CSxn5tZrp4R7-zB4EuJ_KgaSgdr7KNwb_rsFzJd-mRBCJcyszZEvYMRcPyDXFDSs4JHq0TKjbc2oM_EN09Nb5Sxd962gpCmhWHKknf6wBjnohc/s640/272896_2204250030731_1381792635_32556253_4001385_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He touched my back, y'all!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Thank God we held it together until he was out of earshot, when we began shrieking like a couple of hormonal teenagers. But, we were epic, AND we had photographic evidence. Take that, universe!Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17031641754764966375noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991558626467930420.post-81231547005548367712011-06-19T13:14:00.000-04:002013-01-12T17:47:21.579-05:00Who wants to drive a Dodge Lady-parts truck?Between insaneness at work, and an attempted coup by a nasty tribe of bacteria, I haven't had the time to even think of writing a new post. Or maybe this was just the universe's way of telling me to keep my trap shut.<br />
<br />
But I'm feeling better! Take *that*, universe!<br />
<br />
First thing I just have to share? One of my students (17 years old), enlightened all of us in class one morning by sharing the fact that he believes that the Dodge Ram logo looks "like lady-parts." In his defense...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirouNC0EKq-ULVjSYjT8XF4UeqdZmO9E4a4IH_C1wSb1n6TLIRfWl024SN2lQGwpw8pgHHtWL5CvQcsu2HiAfZEfzM0nXrBt0aaCVTHEKXkMQ0ywGhH12Qlp7S08rLNOSPk0F2ZZ3L5lQ/s1600/dodge_logo-13339.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirouNC0EKq-ULVjSYjT8XF4UeqdZmO9E4a4IH_C1wSb1n6TLIRfWl024SN2lQGwpw8pgHHtWL5CvQcsu2HiAfZEfzM0nXrBt0aaCVTHEKXkMQ0ywGhH12Qlp7S08rLNOSPk0F2ZZ3L5lQ/s320/dodge_logo-13339.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Graphic from <a href="http://graphicshunt.com/">graphicshunt.com</a><a href="http://www.graphicshunt.com/images/dodge_logo-13339.htm"></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj07PuGwaGJiAkHoQCl8mtqwhwaSiGyl7S4PjYpUjtxXG_H6PQbB39xNqMw9j5cdL9e0JcANZqLYm21COiF3PAQxz280BXB8GCgUHrzmmVZy4QAwh7KnL53s2WLBHu_cfXqj1Dp31pJuvM/s1600/ladypart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj07PuGwaGJiAkHoQCl8mtqwhwaSiGyl7S4PjYpUjtxXG_H6PQbB39xNqMw9j5cdL9e0JcANZqLYm21COiF3PAQxz280BXB8GCgUHrzmmVZy4QAwh7KnL53s2WLBHu_cfXqj1Dp31pJuvM/s320/ladypart.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I will never think of a Dodge Ram in the same way again.<br />
<br />
Even more disturbing?<br />
<br />
When I googled "female reproductive system diagram," a bunch of testes also showed up. Someone out there is <i>very, very</i> confused.<br />
<br />
A graphic of the cover for "Spot's Magical Christmas" by Eric Hill also showed up. Someone out there is going to be <i>very, very</i> disappointed when they open their gift this year.Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17031641754764966375noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991558626467930420.post-77660122404694075602011-05-25T20:13:00.000-04:002011-05-25T20:13:44.502-04:00The ring that makes me want to puke...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ-r2EyEWD39xq5bjB7QFKwq2y16c8p8R17Gy9lVNRJzxxFuwGwd5EvvOfVL21Lig8LeTbMJy9gEhyphenhypheniHtqPuU4fSgRMZTPDkDb4lrIX1F7xGPoHtRkqvRO3OvZRzP1pH-bdSYKIfJ6pzQ/s1600/money.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ-r2EyEWD39xq5bjB7QFKwq2y16c8p8R17Gy9lVNRJzxxFuwGwd5EvvOfVL21Lig8LeTbMJy9gEhyphenhypheniHtqPuU4fSgRMZTPDkDb4lrIX1F7xGPoHtRkqvRO3OvZRzP1pH-bdSYKIfJ6pzQ/s400/money.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Courtesy of <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/amagill/">AMagill</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
America, our priorities are whacked.<br />
<br />
I just saw a "news" story that Kim Kardashian is getting engaged. Go Kim. The story was actually more about her engagement ring which costs over <b><span style="font-size: large;">$2,000,000!!!!</span></b><br />
<br />
Yes, folks. Over $2 million dollars. In an age where schools are going without supplies and there are children starving in our own backyard(s) and we are supposed to swallow this without choking? Why don't you rub our faces in the excrement of our pride while you're at it?<br />
<br />
You know how long it would take me to afford a $2 million dollar ring, working at my current salary?<b><span style="font-size: x-large;"> 40 freaking years!!!</span></b><br />
<br />
I've been at my job for 11 years already, and it would still take me that long. What do I do? Nothing much. Just a teacher of your children. Nothing worth a basketball player's salary.<br />
<br />
Way to go America. If you ask one more time why we can't recruit good teachers to the schools, you can go choke on Kim's ring.Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17031641754764966375noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991558626467930420.post-51239989114311837182011-05-20T19:33:00.001-04:002011-05-21T13:11:55.547-04:00The Zombie Rapture...fun for the whole familyUnless you've been hiding underneath a rock, you've probably heard about two earth-shattering occurrences this week that can help change the face of the world as we know it.<br />
<br />
#1) The CDC has finally decided to take the impending Zombie Apocalypse as the serious threat to humanity that it is, and released <a href="http://emergency.cdc.gov/socialmedia/zombies_blog.asp">preparedness guidelines</a> for the imminent attack.<br />
<br />
#2) Some <a href="http://www.ebiblefellowship.com/outreach/tracts/may21/">geniuses have used new math</a> to figure out that Judgement Day, also known as the "Rapture" is scheduled for tomorrow, May 21st.<br />
<br />
Both of these have been revealed to mankind at the same time. <i><b>Coincidence</b></i>?<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I think not!</span><br />
<br />
Obviously, if you have one ounce of intelligence, you will realize that the so-called "rapture" is the cover for the fact that the Zombie Apocalypse is about to be unleashed upon us. It's coming. Tomorrow, God will come and call home all those who don't have brains. Why? Zombies don't care about people without brains. This leaves all of the rest of us to be prime Zombie bait. Thanks, God. Way to hold a grudge about that stupid apple-thing.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9U1p56AubyNtDUCD3l-pB89Kv3dsSbF6ft1rE84dq33GveRZDkIm6T-4feYtZ9lq7hG0kUE5hmQdGtxSBLLMZ0j0T_Zq-A3nfl8sY1uJM1BO4bFPRBd6S7AmFsjqSzw0937pGwTwHgF0/s1600/zombie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9U1p56AubyNtDUCD3l-pB89Kv3dsSbF6ft1rE84dq33GveRZDkIm6T-4feYtZ9lq7hG0kUE5hmQdGtxSBLLMZ0j0T_Zq-A3nfl8sY1uJM1BO4bFPRBd6S7AmFsjqSzw0937pGwTwHgF0/s1600/zombie.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Courtesy of <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/chris_pix/">alifeinbits</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17031641754764966375noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991558626467930420.post-14269369368748858332011-05-15T18:16:00.001-04:002011-05-15T18:17:14.144-04:00The Tin Man is a total Dumb Ass. Just saying...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtAsphAbgYnygH4wNm9WObxaqlzNIOZ1NpWrgvYeFh100MX4Y_gf1ZW_X3vjwZUdWpCJM-Rh5Cqln3BkOKieYROD1gkNY_OfHIUD3iAe5N-_ocvsgtdxYudbvEkcRy5SwRzgKJMgexNUE/s1600/broken+heart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtAsphAbgYnygH4wNm9WObxaqlzNIOZ1NpWrgvYeFh100MX4Y_gf1ZW_X3vjwZUdWpCJM-Rh5Cqln3BkOKieYROD1gkNY_OfHIUD3iAe5N-_ocvsgtdxYudbvEkcRy5SwRzgKJMgexNUE/s320/broken+heart.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courtesy of <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/technicolorrain/">fractured-fairytales</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Man, I thought last weekend sucked.<br />
<br />
Thanks for showing me you can always one-up yourself, universe!<br />
<br />
I'm sitting here now, wondering what the hell the Tin Man was thinking--he wanted a heart? Really? I'd gladly give him mine right now. Except, I'm busy sweeping up all of the little pieces off the floor (hold me back, I may be going emo).<br />
<br />
The human heart is a strange thing, indeed. It's memory is frighteningly short. It regenerates--slower than a freaking snail in molasses. It threatens to usurp your brain at every turn. It's kind of like a kid let loose in a candy shop--it's going to over-indulge, forgetting that too much candy makes you crazy, ignoring the brain's message that you will make yourself barf if you don't stop sucking down the crap, right now!<br />
<br />
And so you barf. And then your heart sits there, crying, wondering why something bad happened. Stupid organ.<br />
<br />
So back to this idiot Tin Man. The Wizard gives him a freaking clock in the shape of a heart, and he gets all emotional. The thing ticks and he thinks life is good. You know what else ticks? Bombs. Nice one, Mr. Wizard. Give the metrosexual, metal man a heart that you know is only going to explode on the poor sap.Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17031641754764966375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991558626467930420.post-10442924262095307092011-05-08T19:58:00.000-04:002011-05-08T19:58:53.553-04:00Reasons why this weekend sucksI think I am declaring this weekend as the suckiest ever for 2011. Why?<br />
<br />
1) I actually was sick enough to have a fever. Lovely.<br />
<br />
2) Apparently, I am dating someone who is more complicated than the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/LEGO-Star-Wars-Death-10188/dp/B002EEP3NO/ref=sr_1_1?s=toys-and-games&ie=UTF8&qid=1304898111&sr=1-1">Death Star Lego set</a>. <br />
<br />
3) My car has decided it wants a new catalytic converter, no matter what. <br />
<br />
4) I was supposed to go see my cousin star in his school musical, until foiled by reason #1. <br />
<br />
5) I started <a href="http://rachelbaron.blogspot.com/2011/05/no-35-is-in-effect-by-default.html">#35</a> on my "40 by 40" list only to fail within 36 hours. Damn you to hell, Diet Wild Cherry Pepsi.<br />
<br />
<i>The only thing about this weekend that didn't suck?</i><br />
<br />
The fact that I still have a mom to celebrate Mother's Day with. Happy Mother's Day to all of you moms who let us live to adulthood!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiztOQHe-q53WHkBBCmjbHqDK6z4e6uzaSpYetNFWLRNkN8ZllnEdLyN2ZoIsLkO750TqrFRQ5Mf7PKnhjdaKgc-JywhEQGw_LxgPiwRdoUlgyfNbRr7riws71XJbG3G-xR_80ojghkIuk/s1600/mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiztOQHe-q53WHkBBCmjbHqDK6z4e6uzaSpYetNFWLRNkN8ZllnEdLyN2ZoIsLkO750TqrFRQ5Mf7PKnhjdaKgc-JywhEQGw_LxgPiwRdoUlgyfNbRr7riws71XJbG3G-xR_80ojghkIuk/s320/mom.jpg" width="278" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even your mother was young, once!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17031641754764966375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991558626467930420.post-9293694795778976262011-05-07T18:39:00.000-04:002011-05-07T18:39:07.857-04:00No. 35 is in effect by default...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6d9il3ASrxQvSY-OjD531EhychTyJhF_yYT3bDTuen4bWJhHYEoQ8QeGxIU46MWi3xyHPrW5Dq2TJulQHIlx1Qxtw4bHlaXcSAKTK2mQuC_o6bh2DQ_fHMjloJHdQ-P1YF41FjqGUJFw/s1600/water.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6d9il3ASrxQvSY-OjD531EhychTyJhF_yYT3bDTuen4bWJhHYEoQ8QeGxIU46MWi3xyHPrW5Dq2TJulQHIlx1Qxtw4bHlaXcSAKTK2mQuC_o6bh2DQ_fHMjloJHdQ-P1YF41FjqGUJFw/s320/water.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Courtesy of <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/dottiemae/">Dottie Mae</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Number 35 on my <a href="http://rachelbaron.wordpress.com/category/bucket-list-2/">"40 by 40"</a> list is to drink only water for a whole week. This is one of my more health-driven goals, since, even diet drinks are full of crap and chemicals. And homo-sapiens appeared to do pretty well at surviving a few millennia without any G2.<br />
<br />
Did I plan on attacking this goal right now? Nope. But I have been slammed with a vicious cold/flu-evil-virus-thing, and water is all I *should* be drinking. So I figure, why not now?<br />
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Now I just have to figure out how I can get Ice Capps (if you don't have a <a href="http://www.timhortons.com/us/en/index.html">Tim Horton's</a> near you, you'll have no idea what I'm talking about) to count as a food, and not a drink!Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17031641754764966375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991558626467930420.post-44555330218243443352011-04-27T16:34:00.001-04:002011-04-27T16:35:38.094-04:00I'll take Ron Hawkins. Thanks for the idea, Google.I've discovered it's a pretty bad idea to approach Google with any sort of "why" question. While I love their cute, little algorithm that tries to predict what my question will be, it's pretty effed up.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0_FGlXlG9Ow7yztUP1DkGEMUwujey67fNJybAJqR4JOF3z66U4tctQqTPe4dZ1U4ChvcyjOiqu8H-4NKq6b7F52Mzp9aoPLMZtK4qFT-qJDcI8zgzisuseJX1aUSZCv6Aktvw6jWn5f4/s1600/why+canadian.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0_FGlXlG9Ow7yztUP1DkGEMUwujey67fNJybAJqR4JOF3z66U4tctQqTPe4dZ1U4ChvcyjOiqu8H-4NKq6b7F52Mzp9aoPLMZtK4qFT-qJDcI8zgzisuseJX1aUSZCv6Aktvw6jWn5f4/s640/why+canadian.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Seriously? There is someone who questions why you can't "own" a Canadian? And there is a higher likelihood that someone will be searching for that answer than why their poop is green (which is a very fair question, I grant you.)<br />
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So rather than getting morally enraged at the idea of owning another human being, I immediately think of which Canadian I would like to purchase. <a href="http://www.ronhawkins.com/">Ron Hawkins</a>. Hands down. If you don't know who he is, that probably explains why we aren't friends. Or at least why I won't return your emails.<br />
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Ever hear of <a href="http://www.lowestofthelow.com/">Lowest of the Low</a>? Well, that definitely explains why we aren't friends. Or why we are friends, since, yeah, I acknowledge that most of my readers are my friends. Who probably already know that I would snap up Ron Hawkins at an auction in a heartbeat. I'd be an awesome owner, mind you. I'd just have him sing a lot, and maybe do some light cleaning. I hate cleaning. And I'd even give him paid time off. How's that for enlightened ownership?Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17031641754764966375noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8991558626467930420.post-17022176942021723652011-04-17T21:23:00.000-04:002011-04-17T21:23:13.965-04:00I've discovered the reason education is such a mess in NY State...It's simple, really. Potential educators, seeking employment in NY State quickly realize that the state education department is valued as highly as erectile dysfunction.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaubU9x7hPkp2WNRzRK4LNmW64Z7lwkJLKCG-Gd02ZalU1x08_a45N7ZuLjVZNWFYeWc3ifqJGV1tzCyo-RsIi5FXK3GUK_tAsLHkR_SEFdVp4oFvKe7iB9k-kNAyTBmRfujDxM0Bwfbs/s1600/jys+jobs+viagara.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaubU9x7hPkp2WNRzRK4LNmW64Z7lwkJLKCG-Gd02ZalU1x08_a45N7ZuLjVZNWFYeWc3ifqJGV1tzCyo-RsIi5FXK3GUK_tAsLHkR_SEFdVp4oFvKe7iB9k-kNAyTBmRfujDxM0Bwfbs/s640/jys+jobs+viagara.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Teaching jobs in NY. Ranked only slightly higher than Erectile Dysfunction.<br />
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I think we've got a new state slogan in the making.Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17031641754764966375noreply@blogger.com0