<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916</id><updated>2011-11-23T21:55:56.539-08:00</updated><category term='..'/><category term='Poop'/><category term='sickyy'/><title type='text'>This is ME</title><subtitle type='html'>Your friendly, neighborhood guilty pleasure!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>116</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-7720837965870030510</id><published>2010-11-11T17:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-11T17:27:06.593-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi</title><content type='html'>Long time no talk, I know! I have been pretty busy, so when I've had much time to blog is when I've been updating my makeup blog, &lt;a href="http://quackspassionpit.blogspot.com./"&gt;quackspassionpit.blogspot.com.&lt;/a&gt; Check it out, it's fun :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I just have something kind of interesting to share with you. I am watching a documentary called A Case for Christ (thanks to netflix, otherwise I'd never even know about this movie!), trying to prove via historians and such, the existence and being of Christ. In it, one of the scholars shares the following passage:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="verse" style="color: #333333; padding-bottom: 5px;"&gt;&lt;div id="isa/53/2"&gt;&amp;nbsp;"For he shall grow up before him as a tender plant, and as a root out of a dry ground: he hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see him,&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;there is&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;no beauty that we should desire him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="verse" style="color: #333333; padding-bottom: 5px;"&gt;&lt;a href="" name="3" style="color: #40639d;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div id="isa/53/3"&gt;&amp;nbsp;He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;our&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="verse" style="color: #333333; padding-bottom: 5px;"&gt;&lt;a href="" name="4" style="color: #40639d;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div id="isa/53/4"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="verse" style="color: #333333; padding-bottom: 5px;"&gt;&lt;a href="" name="5" style="color: #40639d;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div id="isa/53/5"&gt;But he&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;was&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;wounded for our transgressions,&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;he was&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;was&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="verse" style="color: #333333; padding-bottom: 5px;"&gt;&lt;a href="" name="6" style="color: #40639d;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div id="isa/53/6"&gt;&amp;nbsp;All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="smallcaps" style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;Lord&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="verse" style="color: #333333; padding-bottom: 5px;"&gt;&lt;a href="" name="7" style="color: #40639d;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div id="isa/53/7"&gt;&amp;nbsp;He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he openeth not his mouth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="verse" style="color: #333333; padding-bottom: 5px;"&gt;&lt;a href="" name="8" style="color: #40639d;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div id="isa/53/8"&gt;&amp;nbsp;He was taken from prison and from judgment: and who shall declare his generation? for he was cut off out of the land of the living: for the transgression of my people was he stricken.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="verse" style="color: #333333; padding-bottom: 5px;"&gt;&lt;a href="" name="9" style="color: #40639d;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div id="isa/53/9"&gt;&amp;nbsp;And he made his grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death; because he had done no violence, neither&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;was any&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;deceit in his mouth."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="isa/53/9"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="isa/53/9"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"&gt;This scholar, shared this passage with dozens of friends and associates (christians, jews, and so forth) and asked them who this passage was about, and who wrote it. All of the people answered that this scripture is about Christ, and is in the New Testament.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="isa/53/9"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="isa/53/9"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"&gt;However...it is not from the New Testament.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="isa/53/9"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="isa/53/9"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"&gt;It is from Isaiah 53. Written thousands of years before Christ came to the earth.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="isa/53/9"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="isa/53/9"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"&gt;I think it's very cool to see prophecies of Christ and how he fulfilled those prophecies. I am not super religious but this film is convincing for sure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="isa/53/9"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="isa/53/9"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"&gt;'Til next time!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="isa/53/9"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="isa/53/9"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="isa/53/9"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-7720837965870030510?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/7720837965870030510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=7720837965870030510' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7720837965870030510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7720837965870030510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/11/hi.html' title='Hi'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-2635480170759899877</id><published>2010-07-29T23:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-29T23:49:08.177-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll have a #9 with Ranch and Sweet 'n Sour Sauce</title><content type='html'>Every year when I come up to Skagway, the thing I miss the most from the real world is Wendy's. I am a sucker for chicken nuggets with ranch and sweet n sour sauce! I don't know why, but I always seem to miss this the most. Because of this, every summer I have had multiple dreams where I discover a town in the middle of nowhere, and it has a Wendy's. I am tormented in the morning when I wake up only to discover that I really didn't consume 400 calories of chickeny nugget goodness. Anyways, this year I decided I was done with the dreams and I was going to put them to rest for good. Since we drove up here, we were able to stop at a Wendy's far north in Alberta- coincidentally the last one we ended up seeing. I was so excited to have my "last supper"! While there, I bought a bag full of sauces to enjoy up here with chicken nuggets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyways, Trent, my sister and some friends went on a road trip to Denali yesterday. I couldn't go because I have to work, but I digress. Today, my sister texts me to say they found a Wendy's- in the middle of nowhere in a town called North Pole (very clever huh)!! WTF!? My dream came true! Sure, it's still a day's drive from me, but so random huh! Not even Juneau, the capital, has a Wendy's (although if it did, I very well might spend the $200 to fly there).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crazy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-2635480170759899877?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/2635480170759899877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=2635480170759899877' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/2635480170759899877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/2635480170759899877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/07/ill-have-9-with-ranch-and-sweet-n-sour.html' title='I&apos;ll have a #9 with Ranch and Sweet &apos;n Sour Sauce'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-7904058052003594889</id><published>2010-07-19T00:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-19T00:01:01.612-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I can rent a car now!</title><content type='html'>Well...I turned 25 last week. 25! I have always kind of looked forward 25, because it seemed like a turning point age or something. But as the date got closer and closer, I started getting weird and nervous. I think it's because I realized that I will only continue getting older and older...and older. Plus, I think we forget sometimes that we will never be able to go back to a certain age- like we'll never be 16 again- which can definitely be good (who really wants to be 16 again?), but still, we spend all of our youth being excited to get older so we can date or go to college or rent a car, but then when we get there it's like "oh poo, can I be 20 again?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I have heard that the older you get, the better life gets- that the thirties are better than the twenties, and the forties are better than the thirties. I hope it's true. But when I woke up one day after I turned 25, I actually felt different. As if a new leaf had been turned, and I had a fresh start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways enough of my ramblings!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as far as my birthday celebrations-- Trent is always so awesome at putting fun and creative parties together. It is almost always a "surprise party", but as you could imagine, by now I am used to it so it's not really a surprise. I just say "tell me when to be there and I'll act surprised". :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this year, he took me on to the ship (Zuiderdam) for dinner. We were joined by my friends Logan, Wil, Casey and Gabby. The dining room is somewhat "fancy"- every single staff that you walk by says "good evening", and it is a multiple course dinner with multiple silverware. You can have as much food as you want- 2 appetizers, 2 entrees, etc- whatever you want! And the names of the items are very "fancy shcmancy". For appetizer I had a goat cheese &amp;amp; tomato tart, followed by a caeser salad. Then I had veal cordon bleu as my entree. And for dessert, I had fresh fruit plate and a cheese platter. But of course there are all sorts of sweets and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, we headed over to our house, where the rest of my friends were congregating. My good friend Suzi decorated the place with pink and purple streamers and balloons. We played a couple games-- "Mafia", and "the name game".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And probably the best part is, Bethany made me a DELICIOUS cake!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/TEP3Bv-P60I/AAAAAAAAANM/Q4Cyk4hbDC4/s1600/IMG_8719.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/TEP3Bv-P60I/AAAAAAAAANM/Q4Cyk4hbDC4/s320/IMG_8719.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now when I say delicious, I am not just being nice-- this cake was sooo good! It had cream cheese frosting and vanilla cake w/ raspberries! Mmm, yummy! Thank you, Bethany!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways it was just a really fun night and I was so grateful for everyone who came out and celebrated with me- I didn't realize that many people cared about me :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yea so 25...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-7904058052003594889?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/7904058052003594889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=7904058052003594889' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7904058052003594889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7904058052003594889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-can-rent-car-now.html' title='I can rent a car now!'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/TEP3Bv-P60I/AAAAAAAAANM/Q4Cyk4hbDC4/s72-c/IMG_8719.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-4460997887948121673</id><published>2010-07-12T00:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-12T00:42:41.986-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>Hi guys! I know it's been forever since I last posted. I've been having a wonderful summer here in Alaska- very very busy, but awesome nonetheless! I'm learning a lot, too. The weather was absolutely gorgeous all throughout May, but in early June, it took a turn for the worst, and it has been kinda frigid since. It has basically been rainy, cloudy and windy. My tan is definitely gone! But somehow we muddle through. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trent and I have been discussing our plans after the summer season. We will hopefully be going on a Caribbean cruise in November, and then after that, we are hopefully going to Japan for a couple of months! How awesome is that? We can only go for 90 days, but that's plenty of time for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Trent and I have been watching a lot of "anime"- which sounds totally nerdy- and it is! I always imagined that anime was all sci-fi and totally lame, but there are so many different shows, that it's like comparing "The Bachelor" to "Glee"- they're all very different! I guess in Japan, anime is more popular than real shows, so they create all sorts of shows in anime form. Anyways, there are a couple that I really like, and it is getting me even more stoked to visit Japan. I am also slowly learning new phrases everyday so I can be ready when I go there! Oh and I have now made sushi 3 times, the last two times have been really delicious, so I almost feel like a professional sushi chef at this point, hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and speaking of nerdiness, Trent has organized "Nerd Night", which meets every Sunday night- basically a bunch of the kids here get together and do really nerdy things, like yes, watch anime, and play "Magic: the Gathering". I can't believe how many of them have gotten into it though, like how many closet nerds there are in this town!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also been getting all my friends addicted to True Blood, and enjoying the third season! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's pretty much all for now, but yea, things are good!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-4460997887948121673?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/4460997887948121673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=4460997887948121673' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/4460997887948121673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/4460997887948121673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/07/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-7857410504620312122</id><published>2010-06-01T19:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T19:53:38.728-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Louisiana</title><content type='html'>I was very fortunate to visit Louisiana and much of the south this year- particularly New Orleans area- and I was very smitten with it. I think Trent agrees that it was one of the highlights of our travels. The area, in and out of the city is pretty, charming, and reflects a unique sense of the south. Also, who can complain about the very forgiving winters? So basically I liked it a lot.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What's become rather interesting to me though, is how "chic" Louisiana is in pop culture right now- Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie moved there a couple years ago, Sandra Bullock just moved there, and Scarlett Johannson just bought a house too! And of course my favorite show, True Blood, takes place in Louisiana.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not going to be surprised if we see an influx of celebs and people heading that way soon. But I wonder why it's all of a sudden popular? Because I liked it a lot, but it seems like after Hurricane Katrina, people didn't want to be there anymore...so why now?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another great place is Gulfport MS. 40 minutes out of New Orleans, and super amazing. True south.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-7857410504620312122?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/7857410504620312122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=7857410504620312122' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7857410504620312122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7857410504620312122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/06/louisiana.html' title='Louisiana'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-1998943399003272778</id><published>2010-05-19T22:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-19T22:10:42.815-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The BEST 5-Minute Recipe Ever!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Ok so I am not really a chef; in fact, I am quite a novice when it comes to the kitchen. I even have a hard time cooking hamburger patties, haha. But I am kinda sick of the traditional foods (since I ate out for 8 months), and so I'm combing the web for really tasty recipes. One thing I love is bleu cheese. I found a whole page of recipes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nikibone.com/recipe/bleucheese.html"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;, all about using bleu cheese. Tonight, I was trying to think of a quick meal that consisted of few ingredients (since we're in ak folks!), and I remembered this recipe. Now, being the beginner chef, this took me 5 minutes- literally- to put together:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 14px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bleu Cheese and Sundried Tomato Stuffed Chicken Breasts&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 6 to 8 ounce boneless, skinless chicken breasts&lt;br /&gt;4 ounces bleu cheese, crumbled&lt;br /&gt;8 sundried tomatoes, marinated in oil (you can find these already in oil at the store)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preheat oven to 375F. Pound chicken breasts flat. Sprinkle 1 ounce bleu cheese and 2 sundried tomatoes in the center of each breast. Fold breasts in half and roll, securing with string or toothpicks. Place rolled breasts in a nonstick or lightly oiled baking pan and bake for 20 minutes. Serves 4.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt;Truly, this was so quick to prepare! I served it with a lovely strawberry &amp;amp; bleu cheese topped mixed green salad, and it was soooo good. I am craving more already and I just finished eating it like 10 minutes ago. Even Trent liked it, which was a good sign since he doesn't generally care for sundried tomatoes. And as easy as it is to make, it "looks" complicated and tastes like something at a really fancy shmancy restaurant, so it's a good idea for a dinner party! hehe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt;Anyways I just wanted to share my "win".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"&gt;What about you, what are some of your favorite 5 min recipes?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-1998943399003272778?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/1998943399003272778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=1998943399003272778' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1998943399003272778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1998943399003272778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/05/best-5-minute-recipe-ever.html' title='The BEST 5-Minute Recipe Ever!'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-3076247227585804186</id><published>2010-05-17T22:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T22:36:54.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Love/Hate Relationship with Living in Alaska</title><content type='html'>Lately I'm like, it's kinda cool living in a small town where you don't have to lock your door or heck, even take the keys out of the ignition. It's weird to not have anonymity sometimes, but for the most part I love that I know everyone and that everyone waves as they pass each other driving, even though half the time I'm like "hmm do I know you?". I love that it's like one big happy family. I love that I don't get all sweaty and gross in the summers- I have practically forgotten what that feels like. Even on "hot" days, there is usually a comfortable breeze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, the one thing that I absolutely detest about living up here is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...how much online retailers charge to ship stuff!!! It's ridiculous, they usually want between $15-50 for shipping! Even if you qualify for free shipping. Like today, I was stoked to find that walmart.com had Kashi bars online, and were free shipping too. Then I go to check out and they want to charge me $24- so basically it was going to be $50 for 8 boxes of granola bars! hahah ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, you may be thinking it's because it's more expensive to ship to Alaska, but USPS is the same here as it is in the states. Granted, a lot of companies use UPS or Fedex, so that could explain the high shipping, but still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some sites that are nice: Maccosmetics.com (thank goodness!), nordstrom.com (awesome!) and forever21.com. THEY don't have surcharges. Victoria's Secret.com only charges like $10 which is still a bit but less than what the rest charge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just stinks because things are so friggin hard to get here anyways, and the selection is so limited. I was just so stoked to see my Kashi Go Lean bars on walmart's site, only to be rejected! Grr...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways yea, that's my rant of the day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-3076247227585804186?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/3076247227585804186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=3076247227585804186' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/3076247227585804186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/3076247227585804186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-lovehate-relationship-with-living-in.html' title='My Love/Hate Relationship with Living in Alaska'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-4062464852283545788</id><published>2010-05-09T01:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T01:00:30.592-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>Yes, another update! Considering I haven't updated in a while! I am now in Skagway, working hard. I haven't had a day off until today- so 2 weeks straight I worked. It was fun and I learned a lot. But two days off seem to &amp;nbsp;be a possibility now. Well not the entire day off, but a bit of day off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have also decided to share this message: Rid yourself of guilt! This is not directed towards anyone, but I know ALL of us have, one time or another, felt guilty for being ourselves. It can really tear up your life, and so I have decided that I am done with feeling guilty. I refuse to spend the rest of my life feeling like crap because I'm not doing this or that. I don't want to waste any more time feeling that I should be better, that I'm not good enough, etc. It's such a waste! I enjoy life, and figure that God loves me no matter what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, have a blessed day, and above all, don't hate on yourself- love yourself for who you are!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-4062464852283545788?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/4062464852283545788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=4062464852283545788' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/4062464852283545788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/4062464852283545788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/05/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-6687307624794638917</id><published>2010-04-06T22:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T22:05:44.218-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Cute, Inspirational Story</title><content type='html'>So I have a blogger friend, and she wrote about an experience she had the other day, that I will paraphrase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was Sunday, and she was headed to church. On the way, she stopped for a White Chocolate Mocha at Starbucks. As she continued to drive, she was talking to God, basically saying that the day was a day for rejoicing, and she didn't want to get worked up or angry over the little things. She prayed that she could have patience. As she was getting out of the car at church, her mocha fell and spilled out all over. She was about to get angry because her $4 drink was now on the ground. However, she took a deep breath and didn't let her feelings get the best of her. Well, then she walked into church, and she went into the choir room, and one of the women had brought coffee and juice for everyone. One of the coffee flavors was White Chocolate Mocha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She says: "&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;I felt like all was part of a mini test from God and I'm glad. When we keep our promises to God, even if things turn wrong he never forgets about us. He knows about our needs and he fulfills them."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"&gt;I really liked this story, and it made me think about how sometimes we are tested, and we may not know why things happened, but God does. Anyways, just a cute story!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-6687307624794638917?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/6687307624794638917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=6687307624794638917' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/6687307624794638917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/6687307624794638917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/04/cute-inspirational-story.html' title='A Cute, Inspirational Story'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-3545699934454687074</id><published>2010-04-06T21:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T21:58:10.305-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eating Out Rant</title><content type='html'>Hi, so I have been a bit MIA lately. Again I just haven't had much to say, haha. Work has been pretty low-key, we have only had like 2 shows a week, but Thursday, can you believe, is our LAST show! Wow, I can't believe we're almost done with this job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, right now we're in Montana. We spent the weekend in Great Falls, and I decided that they win the award for WORST servers ever! We couldn't believe the atrocious service we got at restaurants. As you may know, we have to eat out for every meal, and so you can imagine that after seeing restaurants from state to state, we know what service we like. Well, we went to like, 10 restaurants in Great Falls, and the best service, if you can believe it, was at McDonald's, and only because we A) didn't have to wait 20 min just to pay, or B) we didn't have to beg our server for a refill! Ok, "beg" is a bit exaggerated, but we have not been in a place where the servers didn't automatically refill the drink when it was getting low. In fact, I can't remember a single time. Until Great Falls. After the first, I thought, "ok, maybe it's a fluke". Then the next was the same. And the next. And the next. Until we were sucking on ice cubes. Hahaha. Anyways, another doozy was at Coldstone (of all places!), and they served us our ice cream but didn't ring us up, they just went back to scooping ice cream for other people. I am not kidding when I say we waited 10 minutes for them to ring us up. Yea, I ate my ice cream at the register. hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I don't want to sound like a snob when I go into restaurants; in fact, I think Trent and I tend to be a little bit too passive with our servers (so hopefully our food isn't spit in? i dunno, haha), but I also believe that the reason restaurants were even invented was so you could pay someone to make you food and serve it to you. NOT so you could watch your server go by the table 30 times before bothering to bring your check or take your order. Which happened yesterday. The girl brought our check but didn't come back for our credit cards for 20 minutes. We played on our phones in front of a table of dirty plates. In fact, Trent and I have this silly joke, where after so long of waiting, we start saying "Yes I'll have a diet coke" to thin air. It's silly and geeky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, here are the small things I think make a great server:&lt;br /&gt;-Refill drinks when drink looks halfway- and refill BOTH at one time, because by the time you bring the one, the other person's will be ready to refill. Plus it's just nice&lt;br /&gt;-Don't bring the check before offering if they would like dessert. It makes it seem rushed, and you never know when someone's gonna want dessert. Cracker Barrel does this all the time, and coincidentally it's one of my favorite places for dessert (Coca-cola cake, mm!!).&lt;br /&gt;-Check with guests after dropping off meals, to see how it is. I dislike when servers never come back til it's time to deliver the check.&lt;br /&gt;-Be prompt, don't make guests wait too long to get drink orders, food orders, checks, etc. Because what if you get a poop attack at the end of dinner, but you have to wait for the person to get the check? Inconvenient, that's what happens. :D haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that's it. Not hard, though, right? Am I high maintenance? :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-3545699934454687074?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/3545699934454687074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=3545699934454687074' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/3545699934454687074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/3545699934454687074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/04/eating-out-rant.html' title='Eating Out Rant'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-325598426904476821</id><published>2010-03-22T20:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T20:40:50.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Grief Observed</title><content type='html'>This post is about a week late, but I definitely have thought about it frequently. It's been over a month now since my grandma's funeral. It's still so surreal to me that she is gone. In fact, I have sort of "replaced" her in my prayer- for 24 years she &amp;nbsp;has been in my prayer in the same place!- and so now I have to remember that she is gone and I put other people in her stead. But oddly enough, she is still in my prayers, as I'm hoping she is watching over me and knows that I am thinking of her. And that right there is so surreal. I still can't believe she is gone. It just does not seem like there was time for her to get ill and die. I wonder how it is for her, what she's doing and if my prayers get delivered to her. I always hoped that when she died, I would "know"; that I'd get some sort of premonition or feeling. Well that didn't really happen. About the moment she died, I was walking through a mall- I checked my phone to see the time, and she crossed my mind. But it wasn't really a thought of death; rather, I thought "maybe she will end up living for longer than we think. Maybe she will be around for a few more weeks". Wishful (and selfish) thinking I guess. Instead she died at that moment, because when I got back to my hotel, my mom called me and told me the time of death, and it was just about when I was thinking of her. But I didn't get a burning kiss on my cheek, I didn't see her in the mall, nothing like those stories you sometimes hear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, C.S. Lewis penned a memoir called "A Grief Observed", in which he deals with the grief he has for his recently-deceased wife. It's an interesting piece, and probably the most interesting thing about it is that his experience is really nothing like mine. And that is what this piece is usually heralded for: that everyone's experience in grief is different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Granted, I lost it at the funeral. I couldn't hold back anything, I just felt so hopeless as I blubbered away. But other than that, I've stayed pretty controlled. Except when I think about talking to her. I hope she knows I'm thinking of her. It's just so weird to experience grief, because I've never really had to deal with such a close death. My other grandparents died when I was significantly younger, and while they were amazing, the relationship was just not quite as developed. Anyways, I hope time will heal the wound.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-325598426904476821?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/325598426904476821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=325598426904476821' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/325598426904476821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/325598426904476821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/03/grief-observed.html' title='A Grief Observed'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-1179331359941897395</id><published>2010-03-20T21:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T21:19:55.294-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramble</title><content type='html'>It seems so weird that life should be one of our biggest pre-occupations. I think we sometimes focus so much on making sure that life is lived correctly, instead of just living life. There's no going back. Sometimes that scares me, to think that I won't ever get to re-do high school or college or now. That has passed, no matter what I believe. But at the same time, I wonder if we focus too much on how to live life, thus we don't really enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like, when you graduate college, you are put in a couple of different categories: There are the over-achievers who either get into Harvard, or do enough internships to get some hot shot job in NYC, and their lives are set. Or, there is the other group, who don't really do a lot of internship, but they graduate and live a simple but successful life. I always kind of wondered, am I not successful, because I didn't automatically get the hot shot job out of college?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or, why is it, that women are NEVER satisfied with their body? No matter what age, they're always scrutinizing. I mean, you can be 50 years old, and be a little heavier than your 20 year old self. Yet women will complain? Why can't we be satisfied? I mean, at 50, the body is never going to look like 20 ever again. I'm 24, and I am realizing I will never have the same body/energy/etc as an 18 year old. So why are never at peace?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wonder, are we ever satisfied at just living life? Or are we trying to live up to a standard for so long, that we don't really enjoy life? We just sit there scrutinizing ourselves, debating at what could be better?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-1179331359941897395?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/1179331359941897395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=1179331359941897395' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1179331359941897395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1179331359941897395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/03/ramble.html' title='Ramble'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-5036001299149061445</id><published>2010-03-17T19:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T19:03:11.199-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Annoying Sales Person</title><content type='html'>So I mentioned the other day how I am getting a little burned out and how I'm ready to be finished with our job out on the road. Tonight we had an event, and I realized that, although I'm burned out of being on the road, I think the content of our presentation really helps me from being burned out on our sales pitch. Like, I'm really not a sales person. I hate "selling" things, and have often thought that I'd probably be horrible if I had to do Multi-Level Marketing or something like that. But, I also feel that if you believe in what you're selling, it makes a huge difference. I think I could safely sell Volvos, because I am enthusiastic about them and think they're awesome cars. I could sell MAC Cosmetics, because I gush over everything they make. As for Holland America Line's Alaska Cruise Tour product, I truly feel it is the absolute best way to see Alaska. I think if you do any research, you'd be a fool to choose any other way to see Alaska besides Holland America. If I didn't truly believe this, I think my job would be really hard. It would be hard to convince someone to take a tour if I felt guilty for tricking them into buying a not-so-great experience. So it's a good thing that Holland America has given me an excellent product to sell. It makes me enthusiastic every time we tell people about it, and I have learned so much about being able to sell something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the same topic, Alaska for me is just 1 1/2 months away- I can't believe it! It's weird too because though I am looking forward to it, I am also a little apprehensive. I feel this way every single year. I think it's because every year, I have a new/different job, so it's not just tea and crumpets. But yea, I look forward to being in beautiful Skagway. It's such an amazing place!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-5036001299149061445?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/5036001299149061445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=5036001299149061445' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/5036001299149061445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/5036001299149061445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/03/annoying-sales-person.html' title='Annoying Sales Person'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-4492921732113005712</id><published>2010-03-16T19:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T19:59:38.155-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blah Blah Blah</title><content type='html'>Ok I'm back with yet more random ramblings...This is actually a thought I had a few weeks ago, when that guy rammed that plane into the building in Austin, TX. It's at times like that where most mildly crazy people aren't so bad. Like, you know when someone goes through a break-up or has a break down at work or something- whatever it is- and they do some admittedly "crazy"? Like a guy who is so infatuated with a girl that he acts a little stalkerish, or a co-worker reams out everyone who walks into his/her office for no obvious reason...We usually think that person is a little crazy, right? But I think these people should get a free pass. Because as long as they're not crashing planes into buildings or bringing bombs on planes or shooting up campuses, I think it's okay to be a little crazy in moderation- after all, everyone has acted a fool at least a few times in their life. Most of us look back in shame at those moments and think of how horrible a person they are that they acted that way, and how no one else acts that way, but let's face it- everyone has.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't know what I am trying to say, other than everyone should be allowed to act a little crazy sometimes, and get a free pass. haha wow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-4492921732113005712?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/4492921732113005712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=4492921732113005712' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/4492921732113005712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/4492921732113005712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/03/ok-im-back-with-yet-more-random.html' title='Blah Blah Blah'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-5261556593454750025</id><published>2010-03-15T15:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T15:38:46.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eeyore Moment</title><content type='html'>Why are some days just so much better than others? Today is one of those not so good days. I dunno, I just feel depressed. I slept in til 1:00pm. Second day in a row. That is so sucky. We got out of the hotel room long enough to grab some food, hit up Target and Nordstrom Rack. I was going to do laundry to keep myself and my mind occupied for a bit but they don't have a laundry facility at this hotel. So now I'm back to sitting around, on my duff in the same spot. I'm sooo bored! And I know these things I'm complaining about is all so petty, but it really does add to my feeling of hopelessness. I kind of wish this job was over. I'm getting a little burnt out. Not really burnt out of the job, but of sitting around so much. We have a lot of off time, whether it's a travel day or day off, just time to sit and wait and wait and wait. I'm just really eager to get through this last month, so that I can feel a little more fulfilled in life...I dunno...It's just hard to be away from friends and family for so long, and to be constantly moving around. I like visiting new places and seeing new things, but I think I'm done. It's hard to enjoy these new places when your mind is somewhere else. Sorry to be such a debbie downer today, but this is my blog right, so I guess I can complain every once in a while. :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-5261556593454750025?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/5261556593454750025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=5261556593454750025' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/5261556593454750025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/5261556593454750025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/03/eeyore-moment.html' title='Eeyore Moment'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-4243446099977921631</id><published>2010-03-13T14:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T14:32:12.120-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Totally Random (But not altogether worthless) Rant</title><content type='html'>Sorry I haven't posted in a few days, I've been thinking that there's not much to say lately! haha. No but this is a totally random thought that's been on my mind today. It has nothing to do with anyone, so don't worry, I'm not being passive aggressive. But I was wondering, why is it that so many men and women out there are willing to be active participants in home wrecking? Like, why are women so interested in married men? Why would you even consider feelings for a married man? And, why do men do the same?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In NYC, there were a few married men (all quite gross looking as it stands) that tried to get me to go out on a date with them. One guy that I worked with even called me AT WORK, yes on the work phone, and he was like, whispering, saying something about how he couldn't talk long because his wife was in the other room but when could we hang out. I was just like "Umm, first off, I'm at work. Second, wtf, you're gross. Third, you are married and your wife is in the other room! Could you get any creepier?" Ok I might not have been that confrontational, but I definitely was so weirded out. I thought it was messed up. There was another married guy that showed interest me and yes, I thought him good looking, but I could not even imagine going down that path. I just think my conscience would feel like crap! And to also think that you'd have to deal w/ all the drama of keeping things secret-annoying! But mostly I just couldn't go behind another female's back. I don't owe her anything, sure, but that is just, in my opinion, one of the meanest things you could do to someone. And I like how people always say, "oh but our feelings are just so strong" or they act like the fates brought them together in an inconvenient but intended way. To that I say, b.s.! You have control over your feelings. And as soon as you see the ring, turn those sorts of feelings off. Just say to yourself, "I will acknowledge that this person is good looking/nice/funny/charming/a catch, etc. I am allowed to admire and admit those traits. But just because I find good traits in someone doesn't mean I have to mount him/her". It is a weak and selfish person that says they "can't". I think a lot of marriages would be around still if people just didn't walk away with every person they're attracted to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, this is totally a random tangent. Where did this come from? I have no idea. But a friend recently commented that it is way too easy to have an affair, like easier than easy. And that made me sad, to think so many people can live with that. I mean, there are certain "sins" if you will, that if I do, I don't feel an ounce of guilt. That's the truth. But cheating on or with someone would truly make me feel dark and unhappier than pretty much anything else. I don't think I could live with myself. But then again, maybe some people feel truly guilty about things that I don't, so maybe it's an equal exchange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, random rant over!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-4243446099977921631?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/4243446099977921631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=4243446099977921631' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/4243446099977921631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/4243446099977921631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/03/totally-random-but-not-altogether.html' title='Totally Random (But not altogether worthless) Rant'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-1514342200253607312</id><published>2010-03-04T21:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T21:22:59.041-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To an Athlete Dying Young</title><content type='html'>So, I'm watching a show about John Lennon's assassination. They showed a few clips of some fans that are totally incapacitated due to grief for the loss of their favorite musician. At first glance, I think this is kind of weird that people get so emotional over a celebrity's death- someone they've never met before. But, I think that even when someone isn't physically in our life, they can still play an important enough role to elicit grief. One of these examples is Heath Ledger. I was never a die-hard Heath Ledger fan. I think he was a good actor, but that's about it, I never followed his career or anything. And yet, even today, when I see a clip of something on t.v. about him, I kind of feel a pang of sadness about him being gone. It's kind of surreal because seeing his image on t.v., it doesn't seem like he should be dead; he's still fairly relevant in pop culture. But he's dead. And it's kind of a shame, and I think that every time I see him on t.v.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then sometimes I think death immortalizes people so much, and if they had lived out their life, would they be the angels we make them out to be? The answer is clearly no. I mean, MLK was an amazing man and did a lot of great things for the human race. But if he'd lived long enough, would he be considered too radical? Would he have said something totally outrageous? Would he be the stuff legends are made of?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or if JFK or heck, even JFK Jr. had lived long enough, would they have had secret lives and all sorts of scandal to scar their image? Would JFK Jr. cheated on his wife? Would he be the John Edwards of today? I know, these things seem like sacrilege to some, and obviously it's all unsupported speculation. There's no evidence that JFK Jr. would've been a bad person. But if they hadn't died young, would we still feel the same way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a poem by A.E. Housman called, &lt;i&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bartleby.com/103/32.html"&gt;To an Athlete Dying You&lt;/a&gt;ng.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;It basically talks about the town's star athlete who dies in the height of his success. The author states "smart lad, to slip betimes away, from fields where glory does not stay". In essence, he died during his success, so he was forever immortalized in the last memory of him- as a star athlete. But if he'd lived to become fat, bald, ugly, poor, old, etc, his image would've vastly changed. So the author says, it's better to die in your prime than to be remembered as the bed wetting invalid geriatric.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think? Is it better to die young in your prime, or live a long life and maybe be a little humble?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my opinion, I'd rather live a long life than one focused on how people will remember me. Yea, I want people to remember me as a good person, but I also don't live my life to impress or please other people. I've never really been super exceptional at anything anyways, so it's not like I'm failing anyone, hahah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-1514342200253607312?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/1514342200253607312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=1514342200253607312' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1514342200253607312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1514342200253607312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/03/to-athlete-dying-young.html' title='To an Athlete Dying Young'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-7982022303110747162</id><published>2010-03-03T17:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T17:24:12.369-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Early Memories</title><content type='html'>What is your very earliest memory in your life? I'd have to say, mine is when we went to California when I was 4 years old. We stayed with my aunt and uncle, and we went to Disney Land. I remember Disney Land- the teacups, the dumbo ride, the small world ride, and one that took you up into a mountain and there was this white abominable snowman at the top, and then you go coasting down the mountain. Oh and I think the Back to the Future ride is in there somewhere, along with being in a gift shop. I also remember this funny thing, where, when we were at my aunt's house, my cousin Cameron (who was probably 5 at the time) and my older brother were eating marshmallows early in the morning, and Cameron yelled down from the second story, "Hey mom, we ate the marshmallows, so don't buy anymore, ok?" and she was like "ok", but that night we had hot cocoa, and she had bought more marshmallows, and Cameron was all upset about that whole thing, hahaha. It's such a weird memory, I don't know why I remember it. In fact, the whole thing is so fuzzy that when I look back, I sometimes find it hard to believe that it ever happened.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I've always kind of assumed that the above was my earliest memory, but I have also had this memory of a movie, where this girl and her dad were out of their bodies and were ghosts, and the dad was freaking out b/c he wanted his daughter to go back to her body but she wouldn't. I remember it kind of spooked me out. Well over the years I have occasionally (though admittedly rarely) looked back and recalled this movie, but I never knew what it was- until, the other day, I was flipping through the channels and saw it on tv! I recognized it immediately. It's called &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0099654/"&gt;Ghost Dad&lt;/a&gt;, and after watching a couple minutes of it, I realized that it was so stupid. haha. But I'm not the only one, the IMDB rating for it is also horrendous- I think it got a 3.8 out of 10! haha sucky.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just really like coming full circle and making some sense out of my earliest memories. In fact the other day, we went to Disney World, and they have a lot of the same classic rides as Disney Land, and we got to go on a few of them. While on those rides, it was almost like my memory was jogged and/or new details were recalled or at least added. I liked coming full circle and going back in my mind. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok I'm done rambling but one last early memory: When my great-Grandma Martindale died. I remember being back at my grandma's house after the funeral, and thinking how lucky Grandma Martindale was for dying of old age (she was 90 at the time), and how she was lucky that she didn't get shot, as I thought that's how most people died...sad to think a 5 year old thinks it's lucky if you don't get shot dead in life!!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, tell me about your early memories, what are they?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-7982022303110747162?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/7982022303110747162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=7982022303110747162' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7982022303110747162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7982022303110747162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/03/early-memories.html' title='Early Memories'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-8933084290646909582</id><published>2010-02-27T18:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-27T18:38:51.387-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Animals (cont).</title><content type='html'>So remember earlier how I wrote about my doubts in using animals for profit? Well, the more that I think about it, I do believe that Sea World and Barnum &amp;amp; Bailey, etc are kinda crock. I know others will feel differently but yea, I've decided I don't want to support such endeavours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT, when it comes to pets, I believe that a traditional, domesticated animal is pretty awesome. Most people know that I have quite a love for animals, one in particular: cats! I have had many a cat in my lifetime, and if I ever am an old widow, I hope to have at least 50 cats :) haha jk. But I have talked before about buying a huge plot of land and making it a cat haven, hahaha. I really will be the crazy dirty old cat lady though! :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But something I've always wondered is why many people treat their pets like humans, and if Fido dies, they act as if it was their child that died. For example, I used to cat sit for a single, middle-aged woman when she'd go out of town. Her cat's name was Big Boy, and she really really cared about this cat. To her, he was her child. She totally clicked with him on a crazy level, and when she talked about him, it was like he was a human being. I have always wondered what she would do if he died. We have a few cats at my parents, two of which who are turning 17 this year. I have no idea how I will respond to their deaths, but I did realize why people feel so close to their animals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized how unconditional pets are. They love you no matter what. Well, as long as you feed them and don't abuse them, of course. But they don't ever just change their mind and decide they don't like you, or think maybe it's time for you to move on. They don't say that you guys don't "click" or get along; to animals, as long as you show them a little respect, they return it unconditionally. They also are quick to forgive, hardly remembering the wrongs you have shown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if anyone thinks that animals are brainless or dumb, remember that although they aren't as "intelligent" as us, they can do some things that most humans have a really tough time doing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-8933084290646909582?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/8933084290646909582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=8933084290646909582' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/8933084290646909582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/8933084290646909582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/02/animals-cont.html' title='Animals (cont).'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-6002040780123501500</id><published>2010-02-24T17:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-24T17:13:29.072-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A matter of when, not if</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I find myself being very shy on my own blog. I feel like all I can really blog about are puppydogs and rainbows, otherwise I am going to disappoint a lot of people with my opinions. But I mean, this is my blog, right? So can I be truthful with you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I heard today about the Sea World employee who was killed today in Orlando by a killer whale. First off, I am truly sorry to hear that something like this has happened, and my sympathy goes out to the victim's family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, as we all know, killer whales do not typically live up to their name. It's always been one of those silly things- despite being called "killer", they are generally quite gentle. But it certainly raises a question of, what the heck are we doing, corralling animals in to small spaces, "training" them to make money for us? We've been paying to be entertained by animals for centuries (Circuses, Zoos, Seigfried and Roy), so we don't think anything of it. In fact, most of us are innocent people who just want to see cute, cuddly-looking animals that we'd never get to see otherwise. But does that make it all okay? What makes a normally docile animal attack? Maybe we are showing our love for animals in the wrong way. If we truly love them should we make them stay in small enclosures, demand them to perform and entertain? What do you think? I'm afraid I don't know the "right" answer. But what I do know is that a lot of these incidents are not a matter of if, but when.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course this would then bring up the question of animals as pets, because if animals aren't for our entertainment, then should we even have pets? Well, I know that is an equally tough question, and my opinion may differ from that of others. My view is that as long as the animal is not confined to small spaces relative to their size, then it's okay. But if it's a rabbit that spends 22 hours of its day in a cage, then yea, I kinda take issue with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But yea, what do you think about the way we use animals?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-6002040780123501500?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/6002040780123501500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=6002040780123501500' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/6002040780123501500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/6002040780123501500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/02/matter-of-when-not-if.html' title='A matter of when, not if'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-6451613287121809059</id><published>2010-02-21T13:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T13:01:21.971-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Born-Again Cheapskate</title><content type='html'>Remember back in the day when Old Navy just started out, and it was all the rage because their clothes were cute yet affordable? It seemed like such a novelty back then that you could get fashionable clothing at on-sale prices. Yet today, stores like H&amp;amp;M, Forever 21 and Wet Seal almost put Old Navy to shame, because their clothing is practically half the price as Old Navy's, and well, ON can sometimes be kind of repetitive and/or boring in their styles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so I ask myself, with so many adorable things at such amazing prices, what's the point of buying designer clothes anymore? Especially when trends change so fast, it's kinda nice to have not paid a pretty penny for something that will go out of style in a few months. And sure it was one thing when I used to get a 20% discount on the already discounted stuff at Nordstrom Rack. So designer stuff was do-able. But nowadays I'm all about being cheap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My very first purchase at Forever 21 was back in November. I bought some "cage shoes", or at least that's what the magazines call them. They are just fun heels, and they cost me a whole $23. Now, while the quality is not up to par to say, the shoes sold at Nordstrom, a similar shoe at Nordies would probably run me $100-150, easily. And since the shoe is trendy, if it goes out of style in a couple of months, at least I didn't lose out on $100. Plus, if the saying, you get what you pay for, is true, then I don't really care if they break after a couple wears (which btw they've been worn now 3 times without issue!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yea, I just decided the other day that I am done with expensive shoes, bags, jeans, etc. I am never again paying more than $60 for jeans, or $40 for shoes. In fact, if I stick to forever 21, my shoes will be $25. :) Well ok, I might be lying because if I do see a must-have pair of shoes at Nordstrom that is costly, I can't promise to resist. And I do love my Longchamps handbags (dawdy, old lady nylon bags that cost wayyyyy too much but are awesome). But I can't tell you how awesome it is to score at H&amp;amp;M with their $30 dresses (many of them are "modest" too which helps out), or Forever 21's jewelry department or whatever. They pretty much rock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and this is a little embarrassing but I am also a big fan of the Miley Cyrus- Max Azria collection at Wal-Mart. It actually appears to be designed for tweens (as I end up barely fitting into Large), but I love it- I have a couple chiffon-y shirts from this collection that I wear for work all the time- I paid $12 for one, $7 for another! It just makes so much cents. &amp;lt;-- hahaha I'm really funny aren't I? But for reals, every &amp;nbsp;sane designer has caught on to the "cheap" clothing collection thing, and I'm pretty proud to be a cheapskate!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then again, I won't really succumb to being cheap with makeup. Most people know I love me some MAC, so I guess since I spend a good part of my money there, that's why I have to save elsewhere! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how about you, what are your favorite cheap thrills? And when/where do you splurge?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-6451613287121809059?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/6451613287121809059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=6451613287121809059' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/6451613287121809059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/6451613287121809059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/02/born-again-cheapskate.html' title='Born-Again Cheapskate'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-7362307497649713574</id><published>2010-02-19T14:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T14:12:46.101-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Few Tidbits...</title><content type='html'>So, it's been kinda hectic around here lately, sorry for the delay in updates! I went back to Utah last week for my Grandmother's funeral. It was a difficult thing, especially when they closed the casket forever. I will miss her so much! I just hope she is up there and will be my guardian angel when I need her. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, right now we are in Florida, and we had the opportunity a couple days ago to go to Disney World. I had only been to Disney Land, and that was when I was 4, so it's been a while! But interestingly, my trip to Disney Land is the earliest memory I have! I was excited to visit Disney World because it's one of those things you gotta do in life, right? ;) Yet, when we got there, I was kinda disappointed by the first impression. First it's like $80 to visit. Ok, we paid, fine. Then it was super hectic in there, tons of kids, strollers, etc. But again, what else did I expect. Next. So we were hungry, and headed to a restaurant whose menu seemed decent, but when we got there, they denied us because we didn't have a reservation. Er...So we ate at some random eatery where all they had was fried food. Then we went and waited in lines for the rides, and they were anywhere from 20 to 90 min long! On one, we waited like 45 minutes only for the ride to close due to technical difficulties. Needless to say we only rode maybe 6 or 7 rides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, by the end of the night, we warmed up to the park. I really liked the classic rides, like the tea cups and the "It's a small world" ride. Those are some of the rides I remember from Disney Land 20 years ago! We went on the Space Mountain roller coaster too which wasn't scary but fun! And they took the funniest pic of us while we were on it. I wish I'd bought it, it was classic. :) I think I really enjoyed revisiting a lot of those rides that I rode as a child. But if I were to visit again, I'd spend a few days because there is so much to see!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways tomorrow we are heading to Miami, and I haven't been there for 10+ years so that should be fun! Now if only I could persuade myself to visit the gym...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-7362307497649713574?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/7362307497649713574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=7362307497649713574' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7362307497649713574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7362307497649713574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/02/few-tidbits.html' title='A Few Tidbits...'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-3188873012566020005</id><published>2010-02-06T19:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-06T19:51:24.326-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Losing a Best Friend</title><content type='html'>I had been waiting for the call for the past few days- it was expected, but no matter how hard I tried, I don't think anything could have prepared me for losing my best friend and grandmother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carol Jeanne Loveridge Clark, affectionately known also as "Big G", died tonight at the age of 79. She lived a long, fulfilled life, and despite her physical death, she lives on in the lives of many. Big G was a memorable person to meet, whether you knew her for a lifetime, or for only a few minutes. Due to her friendly, selfless, and inquisitive personality, she made friends everywhere she went. If she didn't know anyone when she walked in, she made sure she knew everyone by the time she left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big G was one of the few people I know who would stop everything and just sit and talk- every single time. The conversation, no matter how hard I tried, was never on her; she wanted to know about &lt;i&gt;me&lt;/i&gt;, and what made me tick. We talked about the "hard" subjects in life, and she gave honest, open advice. She never put on a front or tried to cover up her imperfections. She loved me and Trent just as we came, and never made us feel that we had to be anything but ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big G had a great capacity for love. She loved, more than you will ever know, every single one of her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, and wanted them to be happy. She talked at lengths about each and every one of them on an individual basis. If any one of them was having a hard time in life, there was nothing she wanted more than to comfort them and make them whole. She shed many tears for those of us who ever had struggles. I hope all of her loved ones know how unexaggerated this is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was one story Big G told me a couple different times: When she was a little girl, her mother told her that when she was pregnant with Big G, she tried all the "at-home" remedies for aborting her, because at the time, the family was so poor that her mother couldn't fathom how they would feed another &amp;nbsp;child. But, when Big G arrived, the mother was grateful that she didn't, in fact, abort her. While I'm not sure her mother meant much ill from this story, it impacted Big G as a child, and often felt unloved by her mother. I think she felt that she wasn't really wanted, and I think she harbored that insecurity through adulthood. Yet to think of the impact she's had on all of us, it's clear that without Big G, we would all be in trouble. I hope she knows that now, especially if she is looking down on us. I hope she realizes how many people she influenced in her lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved her deeply, and to think of life now without her is just impossible. Even tonight, when I was feeling down, all I wanted to do was to call her and talk to her, until I realized that was no longer an option. There's no replacement for what she has given me, and I only hope that I can continue without her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My only regret is that I wasn't there for what was one of the most important moments of her life. I hope she will forgive me and know that I never forgot her. She cannot be forgotten, for her fingerprints are indelibly placed all over my life. I am who I am because of her strength and her love. Big G, thank you for everything. I love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-3188873012566020005?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/3188873012566020005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=3188873012566020005' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/3188873012566020005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/3188873012566020005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/02/losing-best-friend.html' title='Losing a Best Friend'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-4191974654946904030</id><published>2010-02-04T16:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-04T16:32:37.543-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dopplegang-this!!</title><content type='html'>So of course there's been this doppleganger theme on facebook for the past week. Fun, I guess. Though I agree that a lot of people are flattering themselves a little too much. No, you don't look like Megan Fox or Brad Pitt, sorry!! Be more like Trent, whose doppleganger is &lt;a href="http://www.google.com/search?client=safari&amp;amp;rls=en&amp;amp;q=alfred+e+newman&amp;amp;ie=UTF-8&amp;amp;oe=UTF-8"&gt;Alfred E. Newman&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few years ago, I often got told I looked like &lt;a href="http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&amp;amp;client=safari&amp;amp;rls=en&amp;amp;q=lisa+marie+presley&amp;amp;aq=0&amp;amp;aqi=g7g-s1g2&amp;amp;oq=lisa+marie"&gt;Lisa-Marie Presley&lt;/a&gt;. I have no idea why I got this comparison but I got it a TON- in the grocery store, from guests at my hotel, etc. All the time. I was guessing it might have been my hair at the time (no bangs, some highlights, etc), because I haven't heard that for at least 2, maybe 3 years. Lately though, I've been growing my hair out, including my bangs, which are long enough for me to pin back. So today, an agent we visited asked, "how many times a day do you get told you look like Lisa Marie Presley?" I laughed and told her that we were just talking about this, how I hadn't been told that in years. So, I guess it IS about the hair!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think, do I look like Lisa Marie Presley? :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-4191974654946904030?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/4191974654946904030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=4191974654946904030' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/4191974654946904030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/4191974654946904030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/02/dopplegang-this.html' title='Dopplegang-this!!'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-3387722775798293311</id><published>2010-02-01T18:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T18:28:52.405-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Been Watching Too Much True Blood...</title><content type='html'>This morning, or should I say noon, when I was halfway between sleep and awake, I had this novel idea: I decided Trent and I have been having such a hard time getting up lately because the sun has been getting into the room via a small crack in the blind, and draining us of all our life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry, I came to my senses a few minutes later, and realized how silly that concept was. But can I say, &lt;i&gt;True Blood&lt;/i&gt; is one of the best shows I have &lt;i&gt;ever&lt;/i&gt; seen. I swear, it is so awesome. I thought &lt;i&gt;Big Love &lt;/i&gt;was the best, but &lt;i&gt;True Blood&lt;/i&gt; takes the damn cake. The thing is, I haven't, until now, bought into the whole vampire hype- I am not interested in&lt;i&gt; Twilight&lt;/i&gt; at all, though maybe if it is half as good as this series, then I just might. But definitely, Bill Compton is way more enticing than Edward. Maybe the fact that he is old enough to have chest hair is what allows him to be attractive? haha, I dunno.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, but Bill Compton aside, here are some reasons you should watch &lt;i&gt;True Blood&lt;/i&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;1.) I like all the underlying messages relating to everyone&lt;br /&gt;2.) It makes vampires seem so realistic, and not at all contrived. I am actually convinced that there really are vampires.&lt;br /&gt;3.) The endings! The endings are always so climactic, and they never fail. Whether scary or not, they are worth while.&lt;br /&gt;4.) Anna Paquin. Yes the little girl from &lt;i&gt;My Girl&lt;/i&gt;, is one of the main characters, and she is a phenomenal actress.&lt;br /&gt;5.) Actually, speaking of acting, the entire cast is phenomenal. They play their parts so accurately and sincerely. Tara and Lafayette are both freaking amazing but on opposite ends of the spectrum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, there are 5 reasons for you, but there are many more where that came from. Now, I should warn you, it is basically Rated R material, so keep that in mind. And yes, I've heard of the analogy of the ice cream with roaches in it. And I would eat the roaches whole, if it meant being able to watch &lt;i&gt;True Blood&lt;/i&gt;. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;What about you? What is your favorite vampire show/book/etc?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-3387722775798293311?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/3387722775798293311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=3387722775798293311' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/3387722775798293311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/3387722775798293311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/02/ive-been-watching-too-much-true-blood.html' title='I&apos;ve Been Watching Too Much True Blood...'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-1586768966497073404</id><published>2010-01-31T16:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T16:39:27.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Celebrity Encounters</title><content type='html'>Ok this post is just for fun. I haven't had a ton of celeb encounters, but I thought I would catalog some fun ones...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Lohans:&lt;/b&gt; Yes, I have encountered not one, not two but THREE Lohans, all while living in Provo! haha. This all happened a few years ago when Lindsay Lohan was in rehab. One day, I saw Lindsay and her mom shopping for sunglasses at Nordstrom (of course, where else would I be?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it gets better...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...a short while later, I was working at the Provo Marriott. I checked in a business man and woman from L.A. In small-talking, I learned they were Michael Lohan's publicist and lawyer. The man clued me in that Michael would possibly be in later. Sure enough, he sauntered in shortly thereafter, and asked me if he could take me out on a date. Ok just kidding, he didn't do that, but I wouldn't put it past the scum bag. hahaha. No but he asked if he could call up to the lawyer's room, and in talking, he said something about how Lindsay was at dinner but would be heading to the hotel later. My co-worker and I were freaking out because we couldn't wait to see Lindsay Lohan (and point and laugh- just kidding!), but she never came in while we were there, so who knows...most likely her dad was on crack and was only displaying some wishful thinking. Anyways, that was the Lohan experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Osmonds:&lt;/b&gt; Once again, there are multiple. haha. No, but can I say, Donny Osmond is one of the nicest people ever. He stayed at the Marriott Marquis in NY for a few months while in Beauty &amp;amp; the Beast. On the day he was checking in, I was so excited because obviously, I knew who he was, but I was also hoping I didn't have to check him in because I get celeb-fright; ie, I get all nervous! But my co-worker who checked him in told him, "my co-worker reallllyyyy wants to meet you" and grabbed me by the hand and pulled me over to introduce me. hahaha. I was super nervous but I told him how I went to BYU and that I'm also related to his old publicist. He was so nice, and awesome, and later he gave me and another co-worker &lt;i&gt;awesome&lt;/i&gt; tickets to see him in Beauty &amp;amp; the Beast. Oh and one of his sons (very nice also!) was there too and so it was great to meet him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I met Marie at the Provo Marriott. She was doing a photo shoot there or something. She was a lot quieter, but I didn't really say anything, just checked her in so as not to be annoying-- but she was a tiny little thing! I was really surprised. Then again, this was around the time she was in Dancing with the Stars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Rihanna:&lt;/b&gt; This is going way back in the day when she was a teeny young 16 or 17-year old, just beginning her career. At the NY Marriott Marquis, the employees were gifted a free concert by Rihanna. Yes, that is how awesome the NYMM is to their employees! They rented out a nearby concert arena, and got her for a private concert. :) But in addition, she stayed at our hotel, and while I was walking up in the hotel, she walked by and even then I was star struck by her beauty. I'm a dork. But she is one of my favorite musicians even today, so it was cool!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, those are just a couple, &lt;b&gt;here are some others&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;that I have encountered (not necessarily met, though some I have). Sorry I can't remember them all, as a lot of them I will remember just by watching tv and saying "ooh I saw that person at xyz": Taylor Hicks, Lily Tomlin, Bill Campbell (OC, lol), Nelly Furtado, Nick Lachey, Tom Green (yes, washed out Tom Green, hahaha), Patty Duke, and I have met some of the apostles of the LDS church too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, then, I met this professor from UVA whose name unfortunately escapes me but I'd recall it if I saw it..well anyways, he is a LDS professor and one time even talked at BYU about Joseph Smith. Whoopdee doo right? But I've read a good deal of his critiques on different religious topics..so he checked in one day at the Provo Marriott and I was like, "You spoke a year and a half ago at devotional about Joseph Smith...I really enjoyed it" lol. He was surprised that I even remembered but nice as well. It was just totally random because I couldn't tell you anything even the prophet has said, let alone some random guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But yea, now I want to know: what celeb encounters have you had?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-1586768966497073404?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/1586768966497073404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=1586768966497073404' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1586768966497073404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1586768966497073404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/01/celebrity-encounters.html' title='Celebrity Encounters'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-647229921951897902</id><published>2010-01-30T18:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T18:12:41.966-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes I'm lame, but...</title><content type='html'>...I'm going to pass on an important message. Today, I saw a commercial with Oprah advocating the &lt;a href="http://www.oprah.com/nophonezone"&gt;"No Phone Zone"&lt;/a&gt; in the car. I also coincidentally recently saw an episode of her show where she went into great detail about this. This is coincidental because I have seen maybe 5 Oprah episodes in my entire life, so yea. :)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, but about the "No Phone Zone", I. Totally. Agree. I can tell a marked difference in people when they are using the cell phone while driving. Like, if I'm in the car with someone, and they pick up the phone, I see the focus on the road vanish, and sometimes it's been pretty scary.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Actually kinda funny, but scary at the same time: One day we saw a semi-truck driving kinda erratically, and when we managed to pass him, he had a cell phone in one hand, a cigarette in the other. Umm hello, how was he driving?!?! lol. And, as commercial vehicle drivers, we have seen a crazy amount of truckers talking on their cell while driving. At least get a hands free, even though they aren't much better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But this doesn't excuse ALL drivers, as I'm guessing less truckers have had fatal accidents than car drivers.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So anyways, make a self-pledge to get off your phone while driving- because if nothing else, you don't want to be the one responsible for killing someone. Ok sorry that's morbid- but true! :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-647229921951897902?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/647229921951897902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=647229921951897902' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/647229921951897902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/647229921951897902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/01/yes-im-lame-but.html' title='Yes I&apos;m lame, but...'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-5345729192874762245</id><published>2010-01-25T14:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T14:07:25.119-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#@%@^%&amp;@!!</title><content type='html'>That ^^ is how I feel about interviewing people for jobs! hahaha. It's way harder than it looks! Ok actually, I am really glad for this experience- it is one of those that is going to form and shape me into a proficient leader. I'm already learning the signs of who to avoid, just based on how they filled out the application. I'm also learning a lot from the applicants' responses on questions- kinda like they're contributing to my conception of customer service. It's an interesting process. But can I be finished now? :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-5345729192874762245?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/5345729192874762245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=5345729192874762245' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/5345729192874762245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/5345729192874762245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/01/blog-post.html' title='#@%@^%&amp;@!!'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-4630576679345132323</id><published>2010-01-23T14:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T14:45:55.332-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Have I Done any Good in the World Today...</title><content type='html'>So, I'm not gonna lie-- life has kinda been craptacular lately for me. Personal issues, a dying grandmother and so forth make for a very interesting start to 2010. And I had such high hopes for this year, too! Life is just super weird how it can be perfect and beautiful one minute, and then come crashing down the next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite MY struggles, however, I've lately been reminded of how bad it &lt;i&gt;could&lt;/i&gt; be, and how bad it &lt;i&gt;is&lt;/i&gt; for some people. I mean I just read today about a British couple that are being held hostage by pirates, and how they're likely to be killed soon. One of the hostages was just saying she wishes she could be dead, etc. I know it's a weird example, but really? Being held hostage by pirates? It would be a nightmare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then of course there's the whole disaster in Haiti, which brings me to tears (especially the Hope for Haiti telethon- so heartbreaking!). I mean, it's not like life in Haiti was that great before, and now it is a total wreck. My heart goes out to all of those who have been displaced or broken from this disaster. I can't imagine the strength the people of Haiti must have to survive, and their endurance inspires me so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To think these sort of things and more are occurring everyday, and every moment- to think that somewhere there are people being held as sex slaves, people dying of AIDS, someone being murdered, someone starving, and so forth, and so forth, and so forth- really, the challenges I face are NOTHING in comparison. I have decided here and now that if ever I feel sorry for myself, I am going to look beyond myself and help others in need. Whether it be here in the U.S. or in a third-world country, there are plenty less fortunate than I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I don't say all of this to be facetious or holier-than-thou; I of all people have seriously lacked in the service department. I am often all too self-serving. But I just think of the &lt;i&gt;torture&lt;/i&gt; some people are going through right this second, and it's like, really? Can I really sit there and cry about my issues? To do so just doesn't feel right. Anyways. Maybe this blog entry is really just for me. I don't think everyone else should be compelled by it to serve, but thinking about what blessings we have certainly makes our lives seem so much better, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-4630576679345132323?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/4630576679345132323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=4630576679345132323' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/4630576679345132323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/4630576679345132323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/01/have-i-done-any-good-in-world-today.html' title='Have I Done any Good in the World Today...'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-3871028188891436562</id><published>2010-01-22T16:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-22T16:54:28.429-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mrs. Manager</title><content type='html'>So, I am returning to Skagway, Alaska in April for my 4th summer up there. Fourth!! Crazy, it seems just like yesterday when I followed my true love up for the summer. It was risk I was willing to take, and I am so glad I did. I digress...this year, I am going to be Sales &amp;amp; Service Manager, which is an exciting new challenge for me. I definitely don't feel like a manager, but I have a lot of great ideas on leading my team, and I feel as certain as I can be that it will be a successful summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of team, I have been given the privilege of interviewing and selecting my employees. I am kinda in the middle of the interviewing process right now, and hope to be done by early next week. It is fun, but also kind of hard! I have, thus far, been impressed with all those who I've interviewed, and I am confident in their ability, but still it's a little agitating, realizing that hey, I'm ultimately responsible for the performance of these individuals. :) But, I am still really excited, nonetheless, and glad that I can have a hand in the process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I'm still enjoying my "Moosemobile", and will be sad when it's over, but also excited to try my hand at management, as I've never really done this kind of thing before! Should be interesting. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-3871028188891436562?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/3871028188891436562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=3871028188891436562' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/3871028188891436562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/3871028188891436562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/01/mrs-manager.html' title='Mrs. Manager'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-2347574557585784602</id><published>2010-01-19T19:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T19:18:32.365-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Big G</title><content type='html'>When it rains, it pours...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...And right now, I am all too familiar with that saying. I've been a bit absent from my blog, one because I don't have many hot topics on my mind, but more importantly, my personal life has kinda taken a few hits lately.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Most importantly, my grandmother, or as she is affectionately known, "Big G", is dying of lung/brain cancer. It's really hard to say this, because she is one of my best friends. This friendship has only really bloomed over the past few years, but it's a unique one, one that I don't think could ever be duplicated.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I first moved out to Utah, I took her close proximity for granted. I was so wrapped up in college life- all my new friends, dating, rebelling- that I didn't really visit her much. I admit that I didn't value her as much as I should have, and I think I've forever felt a little regretful for that.&amp;nbsp;Yet as I matured, I committed to have a closer relationship with her. I realized that she was only getting older, and I didn't want to look back and feeling that I'd missed out on truly knowing such an amazing lady.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The things that I appreciate about Big G is that she loves, unconditionally. When, for example, a lot of people looked down on me and my husband for getting married outside of the temple, she didn't. She was there the entire way. She was supportive, enthusiastic, and didn't ask questions.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Over many Sunday dinners, we had endless conversations about "tough" topics. Big G once again reserved judgment. She listened with care, and offered support. Trent and I have always felt that we could be truly honest with her, and she would listen and accept us with open arms.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The past year has been tough for her; she has had oxygen issues, been immobilized for 5 months due to a broken hip, had cancer, had surgery on her shoulder, had catyracts (sp?), and now lung cancer AND a &amp;nbsp;brain tumor. She has been fighting a good fight, to say the least.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When talking to her on the phone, I can tell she is deteriorating quickly, and I have wondered how long she will last. Today, the doctors gave her 3-4 weeks to live. It is so disheartening, but at the same time, I have been praying that she may have peace. Of course I don't want to lose Big G-- I can't imagine living without her- but I also don't feel that her quality of life has been too good this past year. I want her to be happy; however, she will be greatly missed. Love you, Big G.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-2347574557585784602?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/2347574557585784602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=2347574557585784602' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/2347574557585784602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/2347574557585784602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/01/big-g.html' title='Big G'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-6735990958266627931</id><published>2010-01-13T21:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T21:04:36.830-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What does Abby Quack even want?!?</title><content type='html'>That is the question I have been asking myself lately. It just struck me yesterday that I only have 4 months left of "&lt;a href="http://abbytrentquack.blogspot.com/"&gt;moosemobile&lt;/a&gt;", meaning we're already half way done with this awesome experience! And I just don't know how I got myself into such a great job, and what I'm going to do without it. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;i&gt;am&lt;/i&gt; a bit conflicted, though, as to what I want to do with my life. I swear I must be bi-polar in the career/lifestyle area. One minute, I am loving the road and loving the transient lifestyle, then the next, I just want to settle down and live a "normal" life. Like, during the holidays when we spent time with our respective families, I had so much fun, and caught myself thinking, "geez we are so lonely on the road". But now that I am actually out here, I don't feel lonely at all. I feel perfectly occupied and normal. But I do look back at our time spent at Maggi &amp;amp; Kurt's house, and then with my family in the east, and think about how I wish we could be closer to all of our family. I guess there is something to family, huh? :) But then again, we have such an awesome job- er, practically a hobby, it's so awesome- that I think it would be such a shame to not do it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and admittedly, I have gone through a couple &lt;i&gt;miniature&lt;/i&gt; bouts of baby hunger over the past few months. I'm not hungry right now, don't worry. And when I say miniature, I mean very mini! I still know I am not "ready"- if I got pregnant I swear you'd think I was carrying an alien, I just don't think I'd be able to handle it. But I have thought nicely upon the idea of being young enough to enjoy seeing my children grow up, and, I think sometimes seeing people around me having kids kinda makes me wanna jump on the bandwagon, especially when I see that their children bring them so much joy. But only in time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, for me, I am going to stop rambling and go do something productive. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-6735990958266627931?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/6735990958266627931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=6735990958266627931' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/6735990958266627931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/6735990958266627931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/01/what-does-abby-quack-even-want.html' title='What does Abby Quack even want?!?'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-8176980650472646406</id><published>2010-01-13T20:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T20:52:29.310-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Headband Time (Again!)</title><content type='html'>Just thought I'd share another one of my completed headbands. I wasn't so convinced by this one, because it is HUGE on my head. I didn't want it to look like a horribly mis-matched toupee. But, tonight I tried it on, and it just looked right with my hair. Don't know what it was, but I liked it. I mean, I wouldn't wear this everyday, but on special occasions, I think it looks great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/?action=view&amp;amp;current=IMG_0262.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/IMG_0262.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/?action=view&amp;amp;current=IMG_0261.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/IMG_0261.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/?action=view&amp;amp;current=IMG_0256.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/IMG_0256.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The above photo is the best one I have that shows the fun jewel detailing I added. I saw something similar on a headband at Nordie's that they were selling for like $50! When all was said and done, my headband wasn't necessarily cheap to make, but it was maybe $10 max. I still need to find a cheap feather producer...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And, just so you can compare, here is a photo of me earlier in the day, sans headband...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/?action=view&amp;amp;current=IMG_0248.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/IMG_0248.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Don't I look so boring?! I definitely think headbands instantly spruce up an outfit and hairstyle! And they are extremely helpful if one wants to bide some time between hair dye sessions. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Anyways, I will have more to share soon- I just got some more feathers today!- so I hope I get some good results from them! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-8176980650472646406?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/8176980650472646406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=8176980650472646406' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/8176980650472646406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/8176980650472646406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/01/its-headband-time-again.html' title='It&apos;s Headband Time (Again!)'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-6657922248660611013</id><published>2010-01-12T18:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T18:59:43.055-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wacky Technology</title><content type='html'>Hi. So we just got back from a truly delicious dinner at a Mexican restaurant called Mi Cocina. The guacamole was truly mouth-watering. And my ensalada was good, though I think I had the same one for lunch at McDonald's today. Nonetheless, the experience was great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I love to gossip. Let's not lie here, ok? I love to gawk at the 7'0'' woman who walked past our table. And I love to eavesdrop into random people's convos. The victims, in this specific case, were the desperate housewife- dallas rejects. They were trying, I'll give them that. But I just don't think they were quite as good as the &lt;i&gt;real &lt;/i&gt;desperate housewives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless of who they were, it was their conversation that got me thinking. They, too, were gossiping. Their target was some mutual acquaintance who wrote such and such on facebook. Unfortunately my usual keen senses were slightly out-of-touch tonight, so I didn't catch the whole thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, it got me thinking. About facebook, and the internets. And technology. And how freakishly advanced we've gotten in just a few years. I can easily hearken back to the "AIM" days, where one's SN was just as good as one's calling card. The cool thing was instant messenger. I still get a little reminiscent when I use facebook's chat feature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, there were websites that one could make, free of charge, on many different host sites such as angelfire and geocities. I was slightly disappointed last year, when I learned that Geocities was closing down forever. I wish I'd known a day or two earlier so I could've saved my obscure, out of date sites that I built when I was in my teens. Clearly, the demand to create (from SCRATCH!) an HTML site is no longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are living in the dawn of the facebook page which, in one "page" instead of multiple, can tell ones story. Or the blog, which is simpler, perhaps even more personal than an entire website.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all gotten a lot more condensed. Twitter is a device that basically forces you to spit out what you want to say, without going on and on and on, such as I am doing now. Plus, it's instantaneous and accessible, which means I can tell you I'm going pee the moment it happens, not a few minutes or hours later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just all so crazy! I mean, I wouldn't go back to AIM days, not if I had the chance. I hated the long goodbyes. You'd say "g2g" (meaning I gotta go, lol). Then they'd say, "ok have a good one" or "c-ya". Then you'd say "c-ya". Then it just got long and drawn out. It was just annoying. But it is crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to think, when I was a little kid, I prided myself in living in the most advanced era. We didn't even have the tiniest idea of what the internet was. Now it feels like we were living in the dark ages, with fax machines being a "new" technology.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I know how my parents felt growing up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-6657922248660611013?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/6657922248660611013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=6657922248660611013' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/6657922248660611013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/6657922248660611013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/01/wacky-technology.html' title='Wacky Technology'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-7939984383994103714</id><published>2010-01-09T14:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T14:31:20.999-08:00</updated><title type='text'>U to the G to the H!</title><content type='html'>I don't know if you have been following the Susan Powell case, a Utah woman who mysteriously disappeared about a month ago, and whose husband is OVERLY suspicious, yet no charges have been filed against him. If you haven't heard about it, &lt;a href="http://www.ksl.com/?nid=148&amp;amp;sid=9186432"&gt;the KSL article &lt;/a&gt;will catch you up to speed. Now, I am no law enforcement agent, so I obviously don't know how much evidence one needs to charge someone, but I have seen plenty of cases with FAR LESS evidence go to trial, so I am still at a loss of how this guy is going free, given the evidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But even more disturbing (and probably more telling) is the fact that, despite his wife's disappearance, he is now moving out of his crime scene of a house (&lt;a href="http://www.ksl.com/?nid=148&amp;amp;sid=9285755"&gt;see article&lt;/a&gt;). Yep, just packing up, leaving to start a new life. Does that not ring even the tiniest bit suspicious to anyone? Your wife disappears, and you are not doing anything about it, rather leaving town?!? I mean, sure, due to the suspicion on this guy, I don't think he could ever live a normal life there, but if you were innocent, why would you be moving at a time like this? Why wouldn't you be spending your time searching for her, or at the very least, grieving long enough to hold off on the move? Unless, of course, you are positive that there's nothing to search for. Even &lt;i&gt;if&lt;/i&gt; they were estranged and she had just run away (which is unlikely), wouldn't you want to help police out, so your name could be cleared?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If this doesn't sound strange to you, definitely read the article and see the evidence against him, and you will know that no sane or innocent person would behave in this manner. It grosses me out that people do this- if you don't want to be with someone, just divorce them! I know that a lot of religions look down on divorce, but I'm pretty sure they look down on murder a little more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;And, if I am wrong in judging, so be it. I guess I'll be the one to stand before the Lord on judgment day, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.- I know, I know, I sound way too Nancy Grace in this post, but I get grossed out by this sort of thing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-7939984383994103714?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/7939984383994103714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=7939984383994103714' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7939984383994103714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7939984383994103714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/01/u-to-g-to-h.html' title='U to the G to the H!'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-4880305663941798645</id><published>2010-01-08T16:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-08T16:48:55.602-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to Reality</title><content type='html'>I guess the holiday break couldn't last forever, huh? We are back in Dallas to start work back up...and I've decided that I don't like to work, but I lovvvvee a paycheck- funny how that works, right? But, if I have to have a job, I think I have pretty much the best one out there! I get paid to travel to awesome places, who wouldn't want that?!&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, I'm sure you'll hear more from me soon, but that's about the most exciting dirt on me right now. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-4880305663941798645?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/4880305663941798645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=4880305663941798645' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/4880305663941798645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/4880305663941798645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/01/back-to-reality.html' title='Back to Reality'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-1994597003195462019</id><published>2010-01-06T22:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-06T22:52:09.370-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank Goodness for Useful Gag Gifts (a.k.a. Ode to Snuggie)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: auto;"&gt;Let it be known from this day hence that the Snuggie is an inspired product. It just saved my life about 10 minutes ago when I nearly froze to death on the sofa, but was too lazy to get up and do anything about it. Thank goodness the Snuggie was laying within arm's reach, otherwise who knows what would have happened!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: auto;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: auto;"&gt;My gratitude as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: auto;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://s370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/?action=view&amp;amp;current=Photo127.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/Photo127.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/?action=view&amp;amp;current=Photo132.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/Photo132.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/?action=view&amp;amp;current=Photo133.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/Photo133.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/?action=view&amp;amp;current=Photo134.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/Photo134.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/?action=view&amp;amp;current=Photo136.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/Photo136.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The End.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-1994597003195462019?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/1994597003195462019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=1994597003195462019' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1994597003195462019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1994597003195462019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/01/thank-goodness-for-useful-gag-gifts-aka.html' title='Thank Goodness for Useful Gag Gifts (a.k.a. Ode to Snuggie)'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-1937054514656925150</id><published>2010-01-06T19:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-06T20:03:30.014-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Displaying my Inner-Mormon</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;So after wearing my sunglasses as headbands for the past couple years, I decided to spend a little bit of my makeup-buying budget on some real headbands. However, headbands can be addicting; once you buy one, what's a few dozen more? Yet as I was looking for headbands, I had a hard time finding the ones I had in mind. So, I thought, why don't I make my own? Which is exactly what I did! I made this one below:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Exhibit A&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/?action=view&amp;amp;current=photo2.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/photo2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Exhibit B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/?action=view&amp;amp;current=photo1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/photo1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font: 10.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;As you can imagine, I was quite proud of my creation, as it was just what I envisioned, and little did I know I would get tons and tons of compliments- everywhere I go women stare at my head, only to comment how much they love my headband. At first, I thought of telling them I made it myself, but I didn't want them to get the idea that they could go and make their own too. That's MY secret :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Now I have tons more feathers and plain headbands waiting to be joined in unison:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/?action=view&amp;amp;current=photo3.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/photo3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;So if you wonder where I am, I am probably working in my slave shop. I love craft time- I must be Mormon! :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;What do you think of my headband idea?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-1937054514656925150?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/1937054514656925150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=1937054514656925150' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1937054514656925150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1937054514656925150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/01/displaying-my-inner-mormon.html' title='Displaying my Inner-Mormon'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-7304968459496014189</id><published>2010-01-05T20:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T20:59:44.292-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wuthering Heights</title><content type='html'>I recently finished re-reading the novel, and when I finished the last page, I mourned a little because I wasn't going to be able to be so enthralled anymore! It is truly a magical book. I read a lot, but no book has really captivated me like this one. So, to keep the suspension of disbelief going, and as a reward for completing such an intense book, I bought the 1992 film version, starring Ralph Fiennes and Juliette Binoche. Well, I just got finished watching it and...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...I WAS SORELY DISAPPOINTED! Argghh, it was so horrible. Granted, it was made in 1992 (which we all know was not exactly the height of filmmaking), but still! It had such good reviews on Amazon which is why I purchased this one over the 1939 or 2003 versions. Oh well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I hate to sound like one of these "the book is sooo much better than the movie" people, because I'm really not. I actually took a film study course in college in which we focused almost the &lt;i&gt;entire&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;semester on how a book and its film counterpart can never have the same "essence", hence they are incomparable, but that's a story for a different day. Aside from the fact that it was a totally watered-down version of the book, this film was simply a poorly-made film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has anyone read this book? If you haven't, you absolutely, positively must go read it, STAT. The first couple chapters are a little slow and perhaps confusing with all the characters, but once you get into it, you won't put it down- it is dark, depressing, scary, and its very own little world. There are a lot of gothic themes, like imprisonment and the supernatural (being two of the biggest themes, actually), so I guess not super realistic, but you won't know the difference when you read it! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it might be the Twilight for English majors, or for the 19th century, at least. It has to be at least 2000x better than Twilight :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, go read and if you already have, let's be dorks and chat about it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-7304968459496014189?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/7304968459496014189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=7304968459496014189' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7304968459496014189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7304968459496014189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/01/wuthering-heights.html' title='Wuthering Heights'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-9011477811648518326</id><published>2010-01-04T16:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T16:12:11.728-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bra-Burning Party!! (Possibly TMI)</title><content type='html'>But not&lt;i&gt; that&lt;/i&gt; kind of bra-burning party!! I might be a feminist deep down, but I see nothing wrong with a nice over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder. Which is why I am holding a bra-burning party, because in case you'd like to know, I just got back from a fabulous bra shopping trip after realizing how frightening a couple of my bras have become. So they must be destroyed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now this whole bra thing reminds me of a&lt;a href="http://www.slate.com/id/2240073/"&gt; Dear Prudence&lt;/a&gt; article in which someone inquired how long one can go before washing a bra. It was from a gentleman whose wife hardly washed her bra and he found it disgusting. Well, Prudie went around and surveyed some ladies only to discover that most women didn't remember the last time they washed their bra. Some people wrote in, outraged that people don't wash them after every use, while others applauded the dirty truth of women and bras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I for one, am in pooled in the group that doesn't recall the last bra-washing. I am sure it sounds gross to an outsider that doesn't wear a bra, but I too have surveyed some close friends (I actually did it this summer, before I ever read this article) and was glad to learn that I was totally normal- these girls, too, went up to a month before washing. And to make it even better, I've just now surveyed some other close women and found the same results!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To top it off, I asked my husband what he thinks and he said: "well, if you were lactating, then I would care, but since you're not, then who cares" and "How often do I wash my jeans?" Case closed! If it's not (forgive me for this next part!) a moist area, it really isn't a big deal. And I don't stink, don't have b.o., but if there were any chance of b.o. due to my bra, it would definitely be washed every day. lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, since bras are so delicate, they are difficult to wash (hand-washing), and will be messed up very quickly from constant wash, so it's simply not worth it to wash them so often!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways I just thought this was an interesting topic. I'm sure there are women who are OCD about bra-washing, but at least according to the women I know, I am more normal than I'd like to believe :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-9011477811648518326?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/9011477811648518326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=9011477811648518326' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/9011477811648518326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/9011477811648518326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/01/bra-burning-party-possibly-tmi.html' title='Bra-Burning Party!! (Possibly TMI)'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-8650024629943156953</id><published>2010-01-03T19:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T19:48:07.122-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year!</title><content type='html'>I recognize that I am a couple days late on this front, but I wish everyone a Happy New Year, and the stamina to keep all those resolutions. :) &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Speaking of resolutions, I guess I should tell you mine! As always, I want to get physically fit via a combination of nutritious eating and diligent exercise. The good news is, I should have constant access to a gym for the rest of the year, and I have been trying to get educated on healthy eating, which I think will be a lethal combination. Gotta get back on the horse!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, I really would like to keep busy on these blogs. I have three blogs: &lt;a href="http://quackspassionpit.blogspot.com"&gt;Quack's Passion Pit&lt;/a&gt; (makeup blog), &lt;a href="http://abbytrentquack.blogspot.com"&gt;Adventures of Abby &amp;amp; Tren&lt;/a&gt;t (travel blog), and of course this blog. They all serve different purposes, and I hope to really make them worth reading. I have a goal to actually have more than one commenter on my blog by the end of 2010! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, seeing as though I really haven't given the whole resolution thing much thought, I think those are good resolutions. Oh and I wanna kick a at my job this year and be awesome. I hope that is possible :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy New Year, and here's to 2010 being as good or better than 2009! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-8650024629943156953?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/8650024629943156953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=8650024629943156953' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/8650024629943156953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/8650024629943156953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2010/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year!'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-855565579675260030</id><published>2009-12-30T22:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T22:33:11.703-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What is an American?</title><content type='html'>Today Trent and I actually got off our lazy bums, and headed down to the newly renovated American History Museum in DC. I have been wanting to check it out for the past few years, but it's been under renovation for what felt like ages, so I was excited to finally see it in its full glory.&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And what a full glory it is! I am, admittedly, a history buff. I think I get it from my dad- he told me that when he was 17, he did a summer at GWU, and spent 17 hrs over a period of 2 days in the American History museum!! I am so jealous, I wish I had that much time in there, as there's so much to see.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; I love seeing artifacts from other times, and learning and re-learning about the history of the world. But I especially love American History. Although at times I might feel a little disappointed with current state of the average "American", visiting this museum today made really proud of this country and the people who accomplished it all. I realized that not everyone can be a true American; it takes a certain sassiness, a certain drive to really be American. For example, I laughed at a tea pot from the 18th Century that had "No Stamp Act" painted on it- this is so American! Take that, proprietous English tea pot! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am also deeply moved by Abraham Lincoln, and the things he accomplished, even though his time as president was short. He seemed like such an awe-worthy individual, despite looking slightly creepy in a couple photographs. And I love that he was 6'4", which was massive at that time. I mean, I looked at half the men's clothing on display, and they'd barely have fit me! What is the deal, why are people so much taller these days? Evolution much?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We saw the "Star Spangled Banner", the original flag that flew when Francis Scott Key was held prisoner at Fort McHenry. It is a marvel that it still exists, what with its busy life. The family who had it for almost a century were so proud of it, that they'd display it outdoors at times, and often give "snippings" of it as souvenirs to people, hence the reason half of it is gone. Yikes I know! But I remember seeing this flag when I was a little girl- it would be revealed once every hour or so, and then they'd cover it back up. Then, in 1998, they decided the flag was so weak that it couldn't be hung anymore. So, they had to spend time restoring it, and putting it in some chamber where it lays down now. The conservation process looked massive, but totally amazing- I really want to be a conservator! Can you imagine being part of the preservation of such fantastic artifacts?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another remarkable thing (as frankly there were so many, that I'd be here for days if I were to tell all the things I loved), was the exhibit on Edison, and his light bulb. Although Trent may beg to differ (he argues that Edison unfairly ruined Tesla, a claim I will have to research further), I am really grateful for Edison. Can you imagine where we'd be without the light bulb? Holy cow! I just don't understand how so many centuries went by with people relying on the light from a flame. If we never got the light bulb, imagine how little would've been currently accomplished- probably 1% of what we've done. And, I might have gone slightly mental from having to constantly light candles. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, in conclusion, I think visiting this museum has only reinforced my hope of what heaven will be like: A disclosure of all things unknown. I want all those "guess I'll never really know" inquiries to be fully answered, and I want to meet all these amazing people from our history, and the WWWWH of it all. I really hope that's what it's like, as I could care less for the tropical island and juicy pears lol. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh and can I just say how inspiring the whole city of D.C. is?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-855565579675260030?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/855565579675260030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=855565579675260030' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/855565579675260030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/855565579675260030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/12/what-is-american.html' title='What is an American?'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-9102166763602213866</id><published>2009-12-29T13:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T13:40:09.269-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Some People!</title><content type='html'>Sometimes, in life, I am compelled to check ksl.com or desnews.com, ya know, just to see how Utah is doing. Every time, I am repelled by either totally ridiculous articles, or totally ridiculous reader comments, and I realize why, as soon as the plane touches the landing strip, I'm always ready to leave. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Case in point: This article about the &lt;a href="http://www.ksl.com/?nid=148&amp;amp;sid=9167222"&gt;LDS Church's support for Utah anti-discrimination laws&lt;/a&gt;. As a side note, why is this even newsworthy? I would hope that the church does not support discrimination, but who am I? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, allow me to quote some reader comments for you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;From Hardtail, who, I gather, finds himself to be a model LDS:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; color: rgb(34, 34, 34); "&gt;We don't want a repeat of the kiss-in because two &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; color: rgb(34, 34, 34); "&gt;skirt-wearing (at least in their minds)fairies were feeling&lt;br /&gt;each other up in public.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We don't mind giving the Sexually Confused a few general&lt;br /&gt;rights, but they ain't gonna get the right to marry like&lt;br /&gt;normal people do. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok, pretty offensive, but not surprising. Though I'm sure the leaders of the church are grateful that you're reinforcing stereotypes about Mormons. *sarcasm*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And again from Hardtail (after someone criticized his views):&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; color: rgb(34, 34, 34); "&gt;Since it is you who blatantly disagrees with your&lt;br /&gt;Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, I would venture to&lt;br /&gt;proclaim that it is you who is entirely confused. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;It happens to be a fact that your Lord and Master&lt;br /&gt;is Jesus Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a hard fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not knowing this, is confusion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see you have an extremely large dose of this&lt;br /&gt;malfunction and therefore, your faith is based on&lt;br /&gt;ignorance and not the facts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;So righteous is he that this individual chooses to spend his time in contention with people on a ksl message board. Definitely sounds like his WWJD? bracelet is working well. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;From Wompus, an apparent elitist:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; "&gt;I have a great friend who isn't LDS and she trying hard to be a good person, not to go partying all the time at clubs, drinking, hanging around the wrong crowds, etc...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She moved to sacarmento about a year ago and she called me basically just so upset, all the men she meets just want sex, they don't want to have a good relationship. It's basically what can you do for me and can I get in your pants! I feel so bad for her. &lt;b&gt;If she only had what we in Utah have, a people,&lt;/b&gt; who as you mentioned are far from perfect, but at least &lt;b&gt;are taught the difference between right from wrong and are asked to make a commitment to choose the right and forsake the crap!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our society doesn't raise good kids anymore! Our society doesn't hold firm on good values, honesty, hard work, morality, fidelity. They say, you're going to screw up anyways, lets through some condoms at you, teach you the how to put one on a banana, and if you screw up, we'll allow you to murder the baby inside you because hey, we don't want a life to ruin your dreams! You should be allowed to escape the consequences because hey, you're not good enough to make the right choices, we know you're going to screw up so let's prepare you for failure now, because that's really what you are!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I don't think I can even express how it disgusts me that this sort of 'better than thou' attitude actually exists. It's the same reason I hate being in Utah- constant judging, people thinking the outside world is so evil and without morals. Mormons are not the only ones with a conscience! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I guess if people want to wallow in their misconstrued facts all day, I just must ignore them. It's like a sociopath- you stay away, unless all you want is to be constantly disappointed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;BUT, that said, I know a lot of great people in Utah, some that I'd love to keep in my life, so the reality is, that just like there are some kooks in Utah, there are a lot of wonderful people there. It's a shame that they are overshadowed by the crazies on these websites, whose inaccurate comments are visible to people all over the world. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-9102166763602213866?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/9102166763602213866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=9102166763602213866' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/9102166763602213866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/9102166763602213866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/12/some-people.html' title='Some People!'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-5381438692973157564</id><published>2009-12-26T21:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-26T22:00:01.598-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Holidays!</title><content type='html'>Hope everyone is having (or had) a wonderful Christmas/Hanukah/Kwanzaa/Festivus! Mine was very enjoyable, and might I brag that my husband is a phenomenal gift-giver? I mean, as much as we hate to admit it, the gifts are pretty much the best part of Christmas. I scored a Tiffany's bracelet, complete with the cutest scottie dog charm, which will hopefully tide me over til the day when I can get a&lt;i&gt; real&lt;/i&gt; scottie dog :). I feel so "bling bling" wearing it, it's pretty much the nicest piece of jewelry I've really ever had. At first my insides might have tied into a knot b/c I know Tiffany's is not cheap, and mi money es su money, right? But then I thought, we are most likely not going to have these nice of Christmases every year, so might as well enjoy it while we can, right? Who knows what next year will (or won't) bring?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also scored:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Reebok "Easy Tone" shoes, but the sad thing is that apparently they're sold out virtually &lt;i&gt;everywhere&lt;/i&gt;, so they weren't the exact ones I wanted...so I've gotta decide if I should just return them and wait til the good ones become available, or if I should settle for these? Decisions, decisions. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-North Face puffy vest, which I'd wanted for like 3 years now...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-a white North Face jacket&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Trent scored:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-A bunch of climbing gear, aka overpriced nuts bolts and wires&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-LRG shirts&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Climbing Headlamp&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Arc'teryx 'Atom' Jacket&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-The sickest mini sock monkey EVERRR- it was definitely my favorite gift for him, even though it was the cheapest at $6.99 :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh and in my stocking, I got a lot of feathers. Now, you may think what does she need feathers for? Well, I've been making headbands lately...I couldn't find exactly what I wanted at the store, so I thought, well hell, I'll make my own, and so far so good! I have gotten a lot of compliments on them. I will have to add some photos on here, so you can see how amazing they are. ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I hope everyone likewise had a good holiday, and if didn't get your fill of sweets, come on over, as we have lots of candy leftover :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-5381438692973157564?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/5381438692973157564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=5381438692973157564' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/5381438692973157564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/5381438692973157564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/12/happy-holidays.html' title='Happy Holidays!'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-6994166815566492562</id><published>2009-12-21T21:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T21:12:52.893-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Healthcare</title><content type='html'>Ok so I kinda try to stay away from politics these days and so I'm deffo not looking for a big ol' debate that goes round and round and round, but doesn't really establish anything, but...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...can I just say, for those who are against universal healthcare, I envy you, b/c you must have affordable healthcare. I am one of those 30million + people that don't have it. It's not that I don't want it, but I don't want to pay $700+ a month on something I use &lt;i&gt;maybe &lt;/i&gt;once a year for a checkup. I guess I could go for the $300-400/month insurance, but then my deductible is like $2000, and again, is pretty worthless to me. And frankly, I'm happy to pay for my insurance, but can it just be reasonably priced?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's crazy how many people I know that are without healthcare, or will just get healthcare on their infant or kids, but can't afford it for themselves. In fact, I barely know of anyone who HAS insurance, lol. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also like how many people in my religion are so anti-socialist, but what is the United Order? Law of Consecration? Tithing? Any of these things ring a bell? For people who are so wrapped up in socialist organization, it's kinda ironic. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just hate worrying about this stuff. End rant.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-6994166815566492562?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/6994166815566492562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=6994166815566492562' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/6994166815566492562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/6994166815566492562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/12/healthcare.html' title='Healthcare'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-5237909228674532626</id><published>2009-12-21T20:38:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T21:00:48.011-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Glee Finale (a.k.a. Cheating part II)</title><content type='html'>Yes, this is a bit late I know, but a couple of weeks ago I promised my sister that I'd write a blog about my thoughts on the &lt;i&gt;Glee&lt;/i&gt; finale, so here goes. I'm sorry if you haven't seen the show, but hopefully it's not all in vain :)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But my thoughts are basically on the relationship between Emma and Mr. Shu. *Spoiler Ahead, so leave if you don't wanna be spoiled* &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As we know, there has been an obvious connection between the two for the entire season, despite the fact that Mr. Shu is married (albeit, a bit unhappily). I've been wishing and hoping and praying for nothing to happen btwn Emma and Mr. Shu b/c I think Mr. Shu is better than cheating on his wife, and so is Emma. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But now that Mr. Shu has apparently left his wife, what now? Obviously, he seemed to think that it's ok to pursue Emma at this point...but is it ok? I was frankly quite pleased when Emma basically insisted that b/c he'd "just left his wife", it wasn't ok. I agree with that. But what I want to know is, how does someone (Emma, for example) fall in love with a married man in the first place?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean once a man is married, how do you let yourself fall for them? Yes, they may have great attributes, but they're taken, get over it, and find someone else with equally good attributes that is single. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ex: When I first met Trent, I thought he was married (b/c I lived in women's and married housing, so by process of elimination, I thought he was married, didn't think that him and his buddies had circumvented the system and somehow got a guys only apt, lol). Anyways, when he first knocked on our door to ask us something about the complex, I was taken aback b/c this "married man" was kinda flirty. In fact I definitely was cold to him the first few times, until I realized he was single. I think I barely said 2 words to him when he came to the door, to get his creepy self to go away, lol.  And though I thought he was attractive, and wished that I could find a guy &lt;i&gt;like&lt;/i&gt; him, I didn't want the actual married man. The key word is a man&lt;i&gt; like&lt;/i&gt; him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also get a little sad how some people completely disregard the fact that people are married. It's really disrespectful. Look, I have no problem w/ someone having a "crush" on my husband or thinking him attractive, but if they were trying to pursue him, I'd say go get yourself a single man, you'll have much less drama that way anyways :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;IDK, I guess it all goes along with my thought that fidelity/infidelity is a decision and completely premeditated the entire way. It's not like "oops I dunno what happened, one minute I was at work, the next I woke up in their bed". The thought arises that "XYZ would be cheating", and the person decides if they will or will not go through with it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, that's kinda what I gathered from the show. And no, I don't think Mr. Shu is, by any means, ready to pursue Emma. Actually, I think his wife should be forgiven. She seems contrite, and her actions were obviously not meant to betray him, she was just afraid of losing him. She is not an inherently bad person, just a bit confused. Mr. Shu is honestly the one that needs to take a step back and figure it all out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;See ya :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-5237909228674532626?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/5237909228674532626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=5237909228674532626' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/5237909228674532626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/5237909228674532626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/12/glee-finale-aka-cheating-part-ii.html' title='Glee Finale (a.k.a. Cheating part II)'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-8691825056648028869</id><published>2009-12-08T18:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T19:06:06.655-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Have your cake and eat it too...</title><content type='html'>I just scarffed down a red velvet cupcake. It was amazing, the best I've ever eaten. And although lately I've been pretty conscientious of what I eat (I have to be, seeing as though I eat out every day!), I didn't feel guilty while eating this cupcake. And that was a good feeling.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am glad that I do feel bad sometimes, because if I didn't, I would always over-eat. So I'm glad, but also grateful that I can eat a cupcake once and a while and enjoy every morsel without wondering how much weight I'll gain. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-8691825056648028869?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/8691825056648028869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=8691825056648028869' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/8691825056648028869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/8691825056648028869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/12/have-your-cake-and-eat-it-too.html' title='Have your cake and eat it too...'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-3592118694182323623</id><published>2009-12-07T20:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T21:18:46.697-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Experience in Gratitude</title><content type='html'>Ok so today we were in Harlingen, TX, and my manager and I were standing outside our coach when, from the street, we heard a loud crashing sound, akin to when a garbage truck dumps a bag of trash in an empty bin, except much louder. We went running to the street and saw an SUV completely upside down- it had flipped over!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My first instinct was to call 9-1-1. Well ok, my first thought was that someone else would call, but I caught myself and said "what if everyone thinks the same thing?", so I called. It was a long, drawn out call, with lots of (at least I felt at the time) unnecessary questions such as "what color is the car?" (uh, does it matter, it's the only one that's flipped over, you can't miss it), "how many people are in the car?" (i am not really in the car, and it is smashed on it's top, so I would know this how) and yes, I had to repeat the address 20 times. I'm thankfully not used to calling 9-1-1, so I guess it could've been normal procedure but frankly, with all the time that passed with these questions, I would just not want to waste any time. I mean, if I'm not mistaken, they dispatch immediately, so the details are AFTER the ambulance is on it's way, but I was freaking out because every second could be precious in this man's life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ANYWAYS, in the mean time, Trent had run over to try to help the guy (there were many people running over too), and at one point I even saw him running around with a crow bar to get the guy out. It turns out, the guy was (miraculously!) just fine, but his foot was stuck somehow so Trent actually &lt;i&gt;climbed in&lt;/i&gt; to loosen his foot. I couldn't believe it when he told me, that he'd go to that length. Luckily I was not watching but if I had known that I'd probably have freaked- the car could've exploded or something! I was just so amazed by his selflessness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, this experience, though it shook me up, was in many ways life changing. Please bare with me, as it gets a little random, but here it all is. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The first thing that struck me: Usually I am the one in the background who watches, who as I mentioned, figures that someone else will help or take care of the scary situation. But at that moment, I was reminded of a recent situation at a high school where a girl was repeatedly sexually assaulted by many different people, in front of many people who did nothing to stop it. The article cited a certain effect, where people assume someone else is gonna help, so they don't do anything. I am sure that I have been guilty of that in the past. And frankly, that sounds a little messed up, so I decided I didn't want to be that person anymore. I did what I hope others will do if I'm ever in a bad situation, and truth be told, it makes me feel good about what I did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, on the topic of calling 9-1-1, this has strangely been a phobia of mine since I was young. I have googled it, and I don't see a name for this sort of fear. But it mostly stems from many many nightmares I had as a young girl, where our house was being robbed, or something scary was happening, and I would try to call 9-1-1 but nothing would come out when I'd talk. So, I've always been really freaked out to call 9-1-1 because I was afraid I wouldn't be able to follow through. I'm glad I proved myself wrong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What I was most impressed with, however, was my husband and his actions, and the realization that I'm married to an amazing person (not that I didn't already know this but it's nice to get reminded!). He put this man's life before his own, to get him out. It was risky, but all about the other person. The best part about this is that it's not the first time he's been selfless. This is the same man that stops to help elderly women when I don't even notice that they're struggling at doing something; he is the same guy who works tirelessly to love every one of his siblings and fears offending them. He is just so thoughtful and loving and kind, and I know that this is pure bragging, but I think the occasion is appropriate and so for once, I am allowing it :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just realized that there are a couple individuals in his life that don't appreciate him because he isn't a) 100% active or b) a college graduate or other petty things, and they are missing out so so so much from really having joy in their life by doing so. He risks his life for a stranger, imagine what he'd do for his own family. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, while I feel horrid for the fact that this happened, I am grateful for the lessons it taught me, and the new appreciation I have for my dear husband, Trent. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-3592118694182323623?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/3592118694182323623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=3592118694182323623' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/3592118694182323623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/3592118694182323623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/12/experience-in-gratitude.html' title='An Experience in Gratitude'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-8626944784174917006</id><published>2009-12-06T17:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T18:28:28.112-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Withdrawal Beginning 5 Minutes Ago</title><content type='html'>Yep, we just finished watching all the back episodes of &lt;i&gt;Big Love&lt;/i&gt;, and now I've gotta wait til January for Season 4! Arghhh... I am glad I waited all this time to get into this show because I would've hated having to wait forever to watch all those episodes- especially during the strike a couple years ago when they halted production.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ANYWAYS, last night we watched the infamous episode that includes a re-enaction of some of the temple ceremony. I kinda feel like I should watch out for a lightning bolt for saying that- a lightning bolt from other mormons, not from God- because I know that the episode wasn't very kosher to Mormons. Nonetheless, here are my reflections on the whole thing:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now let me begin by saying that I don't necessarily condone having sacred rituals being re-enacted for the sake of entertainment. Whether it's Hindu or Buddhist or Catholic or Masons or, of course, Mormons, if a certain religion doesn't want you to discuss their sacred ritual, then there should be respect for that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The producers claimed it was absolutely essential to the plot; However, I disagree. It is obvious that it was just included to show the temple. There's no necessity to it. The character, Barb, is about to be ex-communicated for being a polygamist, so she asks her mother and sister for one of them to lend her a temple recommend so she can go. Well, not only are temple recommends non-transferrable, but what's the point of going through the temple if you're about to be ex'd? From the references, I gather that she had been there long ago, and she was simply seeking peace from the temple, but if you weren't worthy, wouldn't there be very little to gain from going to the temple? *Shrug* So yea, I just thought it would be a very unlikely thing to do, and seeing as though her sister is allegedly a very active Mormon (her husband is in the 70 or something similar), would she really let her go to the temple knowingly? The mother and sister both went with her btw, so how did 3 people get in the temple with 2 recommends? hehe. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well the actual scene was, first off, just a brief part of the temple ceremony, which I know, I know, is just as bad as showing any at all, I guess? Still, I found the representation to be spot on, and was very similar to my experience. Weirdly enough, I felt the spirit while watching the scene, because I recollected how true it all felt to me at the time. So, whether or not it was ok to include this scene, for me it strengthened my testimony. Of course, I do realize that it's casting pearls before swine, hence others watching may have scoffed and thought it totally weird. But really, I can't worry bout what others think, only how it affected me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One thing that makes me cringe and even laugh when I watch Big Love is how sometimes they miss the mark on representing Mormons and the religion. Sometimes they're pretty spot on (such as the temple ceremony), but other times it's totally just silly and overrexaggerated. For example, when Barb has finished going through the temple and is in a waiting room, the matron comes up and goes "sorry, your 15 minutes are up". Now, I've only been to the temple once, but I am not aware that they say that. Or when they portray missionaries or bishops, they just seem so insincere and/or overzealous. It gets a little goofy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I realize the directors researched Mormons and Utah culture for a few years before the show, but I really think sometimes the show would be even better if someone had actually grown up in Utah or in the culture- someone who isn't totally resentful either. Though I know it's hard to find someone who's not resentful :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess ultimately it was interesting to me and added value to MY life, and made me "crave" going to the temple again, but I kinda roll my eyes at some of the slight exaggerations in the show.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-8626944784174917006?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/8626944784174917006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=8626944784174917006' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/8626944784174917006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/8626944784174917006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/12/withdrawal-beginning-5-minutes-ago.html' title='Withdrawal Beginning 5 Minutes Ago'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-2093483609577494746</id><published>2009-12-05T21:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-05T21:48:31.344-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Latest Infatuation</title><content type='html'>As I've been trying to wean myself off my makeup addiction, I have kinda taken a new interest in reading. Ok the word "new" may be a little misleading, seeing as this isn't the only time in life that I've been interested in books, but it's new as of late. The books I've read in the past couple years have, admittedly, usually been for school, so I guess they count, but just barely. Anyways, a couple days ago I went crazy, buying $70 worth of books from B&amp;amp;N's website- they were having a sale, and I never pass up a good sale. :)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are some books I've in the past little while:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-The 19th Wife by David Ebershoff (a novel that mixes truth and fiction about current and past polygamy in the U.S.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Five People you Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albom (a different yet touching twist on what happens when you reach the other side)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Eat This, Not That! by David Zinczenko (a great guide for what to choose when eating out- very eye opening)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris (a comical, thought-provoking memoir)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs (ridiculously crazy memoir of growing up under a psychiatrist's roof)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell (non-fictional reflection and study of success as we know it, and why it's not so random as we think)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Push by Sapphire (see the entry a couple down for more info on this book)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...and my current read is a oldie but a goodie: Wuthering Heights. It's one I read in school but I hate to say it, I think I read 50% of it through sparknotes, so I thought that seeing as I now have the time that I'd re-read it, and wow. I definitely don't remember much of it, at least not up to the point I'm currently at (pg. 90 of 320). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ANYWAYS, why am I giving this run down of recent reads? Because I have read some GREAT books, but I know that at least half of them, though amazing, would never be read at BYU, naturally due to their mature content. Yes, admittedly, some of them even make me uncomfortable, but that's because they're so honest about what life can really be like. And I appreciate that. If nothing else it makes me appreciate the life I life, but usually it does much more than that. It helps me totally analyze and question everything in life. For example, in "Running with Scissors", the family totally just gets to do anything they want. Not only are they allowed, but encouraged to do what they want. They can and should also say whatever they want, and often what they say and do is a "little" reckless. But then it begs the question, what is better: to be reckless and say/do whatever, or be more "normal"? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I think I want to start my own book club, most likely online. I mean I'm sure there are book clubs I could join, but I want to do one where people aren't afraid to learn and read from all books, and can be adult about the facts of life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-2093483609577494746?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/2093483609577494746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=2093483609577494746' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/2093483609577494746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/2093483609577494746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-latest-infatuation.html' title='My Latest Infatuation'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-117680961781643353</id><published>2009-12-03T19:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T19:35:50.780-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ever felt you were born in the wrong body?</title><content type='html'>Ok, lemme explain. You know how some people are born one gender, only to feel that they are truly the other gender? Well, I definitely DON'T know how that feels- I'm happy to be a woman and couldn't imagine myself a man, I really can't. BUT, I do sometimes wonder if I was supposed to be born in a different time or culture. Ok, so I don't take a lot of stock in it, because in actuality I don't think I'd ever trade my current life for any other, but there are a few times/places/people that I wish I could (have been) be part of. They are (in no particular order):&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1) British- Ever since I was a young girl, I've always had a crazy adoration for everything British. I love their accents, music, architecture, culture, politics, everything. I am a total wannabe; and yes some of my friends will tell you that my attempt at an English accent is horrendous. But I some times get a little sting in my heart when I think I may never live there. Maybe I will, but most likely not. Everything over there is right down my alley and I'd have a hay-day living there. I would wanna live in a cute townhouse in or near London and be able to drive on the left side of the street and have free healthcare. Plus, their fashions are fantastic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2) Native American- It saddens me when people are negative about Native American culture because honestly I think it is such a beautiful culture, and the people are so beautiful too. I mean I will admit that some of them don't realize how lucky they are to be so awesome, but overall they are wonderful.  I wish I was a Native American woman and I'd grow my dark hair out really long and braid it and wear pretty beads and feel free and unrestrained. Maybe this is a bit inaccurate about how Native Americans generally live, but it's how &lt;i&gt;I&lt;/i&gt; would live :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3) Harlem Renaissance- I yearn to see how life was during the Harlem Renaissance. I feel a really unique energy from this period of time. It truly was a re-awakening, a rebirth of potential and self-worth. I would love to meet and be inspired by Langston Hughes. I would wanna share a brownstone with other families, as long as I could walk down the street and say hi to everyone because everyone was, in a way, family. I would also like to feel every emotion, high and low, that they felt. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OK so there are sooooo soooo many other places and times that I'd die to see, but I think that it's pretty normal to wanna see what other places are like. But these are 3 main ones. And may I say that I have no idea how heaven really is, but I hope that above all else, all my questions that went unanswered receive their answer and that I can see how life was in every place/time. :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-117680961781643353?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/117680961781643353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=117680961781643353' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/117680961781643353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/117680961781643353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/12/ever-felt-you-were-born-in-wrong-body.html' title='Ever felt you were born in the wrong body?'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-9028867756625160730</id><published>2009-12-03T17:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T19:16:57.135-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Belated Thanksgiving...</title><content type='html'>So, usually I don't take much stock in holidays such as Thanksgiving. It's good in theory to celebrate gratitude, but I often think these days holidays are an excuse to market products and make heaps of money; I think most of them have lost their real meaning, and are overshadowed by presents, shopping, etc. In fact, I want to get in to this topic a little further, but that may be a topic for another entry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, this week I had a somewhat belated revelation of gratitude. Usually on thanksgiving, I think to myself, "I'm thankful for my blessings"...it's pretty general, and all-encompassing. Then, I read a book called "Push", which is about a 16-year-old girl in Harlem who has it pretty rough- she has been raped by her father since she was a tiny child, which has resulted in 2 children; she is completely illiterate; her mother abuses her, and lives off welfare; and even when she runs away from her mother, she discovers she has AIDS. And not to spoil the ending for those of you who plan on reading (so if you don't want to hear the ending, skip to the next paragraph), but we never see her actually become something totally successful. The ending insinuates hope, and that she will soon be up to par to take a GED exam, so that's good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The craziest thing about the book is that it is based on true events. It was sobering to read and realize that I have been born in a very wonderful, relatively easy life, and that I should not only appreciate it, but not take it for granted. I realized that I truly am grateful for my life. Yes, it is cliche, but it's totally true, and not some stock saying that I just use on thanksgiving.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok end of sappiness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-9028867756625160730?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/9028867756625160730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=9028867756625160730' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/9028867756625160730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/9028867756625160730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/12/belated-thanksgiving.html' title='A Belated Thanksgiving...'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-2684424216352460411</id><published>2009-12-02T21:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T21:40:36.090-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cheating...</title><content type='html'>As you may know, I like to discuss line-stepping topics from time to time. I like to analyze, and I like to look at these topics from perhaps an unorthodox p-o-v. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, it seems like every channel I've switched to tonight is discussing Tiger Woods' alleged adultery. And all the commentators keep saying is how disenchanted they are with this guy who they once thought was all clean-cut and a great role model, and how it's "just sad" that he's turned out to be this kind of person.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;First off, who did they really think Tiger Woods was- God?? I mean no offense, but I don't think he should be considered any less fallible than any other human being. I don't understand why we put so much stock in the "role model", because no one really should feel pressured to act perfect; Plus, when you finally find out that they're not perfect, it kind of feels like you've been lied to all along.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let it be said that NO ONE is even close to perfect in this world, and to anyone who pretends to be, I have a news flash: WE KNOW YOU'RE NOT PERFECT. Shocker! Nothing wrong with trying to be a good person, and you don't even have to settle for less if you don't want, but be willing to admit fault and imperfections when they happen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next, by no means are Tiger Woods' actions ok. Most of us can agree that he acted a fool and that he has a long road ahead of him to gain forgiveness. But I also kind of feel bad for him- yes, he has a life that most people dream of- a beautiful wife, amazing talent, and billions of dollars. But all of that isn't a guarantee for happiness. In fact, there's a song I oft like to quote, called "Mo' money, mo' problems", which states that "the more money we come across, the more problems we see". Frankly, I'd rather have a kick back life with less money than a bustling, high pressure career, trying to juggle a family and multi-million dollar endorsements, etc. And just because your wife is "beautiful" doesn't guarantee a happy marriage.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ultimately, I have learned that most cheaters aren't just doing it for fun- they usually have psychological/self-worth issues/whatever that make them feel like they need attention or other gratification from someone else. And most of them will ultimately need to come to the realization that they need to find satisfaction in themselves, before they look for it in others. Cheating is not okay, but we need to look beyond the &lt;i&gt;action&lt;/i&gt; of cheating, and get to the why of the actions.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So in a (larger) nutshell, I feel bad for everyone involved, and I think it's obnoxious how people are throwing stones at a very complicated situation. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-2684424216352460411?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/2684424216352460411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=2684424216352460411' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/2684424216352460411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/2684424216352460411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/12/cheating.html' title='Cheating...'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-1154537519587169553</id><published>2009-11-27T23:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-28T00:01:24.768-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Something Strange is Happening</title><content type='html'>Yes, I've de-privatized my blog- I'm sick of being private. I know it's probably wiser, but it's a pain to be private...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But that's not the strange thing that I'm talking about...the strange thing is that I'm experiencing somewhat of a pivotal moment in my life right now: I am weaning off one addiction, and to be honest, I'm kinda wondering what I will do with myself once it's gone...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;See, for the past couple years, I've been pretty interested in makeup- to an obsessive point. I have gotten to where I have so much that I can't take it anymore- the saturation is too much for me- it's driving me crazy! Just like a drug addict, you have to reach that bottom, that lowest low, and mine is not nearly as dramatic as going to jail or being hospitalized or anything- it's simply that I am sick of carting around all this darn makeup!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, I must also point out that makeup is more than just a physical addiction- using my makeup is a hobby for me, and something I'm quite passionate about- to the extent of doing it as somewhat of a "career" too. So, it's not all bad, but there's only so much of it that I can take before I lose it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So anyways, I've been selling tons of it at low prices which is depressing because I'm lucky to be getting 50% of what I paid...but it's a start.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But now I'm like, what else can I do that is going to offer me the same sort of satisfaction? Because honestly, buying makeup is really fun- it gives me that high, which I have recently learned that retailers aim to instill in their audience. So yea, it's fun, ESPECIALLY when I know I have money to afford the cost. But now I'm just like, blahhh...shopping is overrated. I need something to pre-occupy me that is equally as rewarding but isn't as damaging to my pocket book and doesn't make me feel like a hoarder...sigh...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-1154537519587169553?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/1154537519587169553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=1154537519587169553' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1154537519587169553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1154537519587169553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/11/something-strange-is-happening.html' title='Something Strange is Happening'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-3043692477188779752</id><published>2009-10-27T20:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T20:52:23.964-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An Observation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;This post has somewhat to do with Feminism. In truth, my interpretation (and that of many others) of Feminism is ultimately a belief that women should be able to exercise their full potential. I understand that there are current associations with the word that might make some more conservative folk cringe, and that's ok, because I am not really here to contend what the word means to the individual. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;I do however, mention this because I am, by the above definition, a feminist. I would also say that I, over time, have been known to be uncomfortable with the status of gender roles in society. A lot of this could be attributed to my Women's Lit class at BYU (or even all of my lit classes for that matter), but a lot has to do with the way I've observed being treated over time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;For example, I notice that if I wear makeup the way I want to wear it, people definitely treat me worse than when I wear almost no makeup- because a woman wearing makeup is a bimbo or something. As a bus driver, I got a lot of guff, even from women- especially from women because of my choice of occupation! And I've noticed men try to push me out of the way when I'm trying to help with a task that's generally reserved for males, such as carrying heavy stuff. There's a lot more behind every situation, and I am digressing too much, because this is not really the point...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;What is the point, then? Well, because of this discomfort that I have between roles, I generally don't like when men try to do things for me, ie: opening the door, carrying heavy objects for me, letting me butt in line, etc, simply because I'm a woman. It's kinda like, so what, you are a human, I am a human, why do I need to be in line first? I feel like when someone does one of these things, it's drawing attention to our genders, saying that I am smaller or lesser, thus I should get an advantage, like getting first in line. It's silly, but that's how these things have made me feel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;ANYWAYS, so but a month or so ago, I was in Skagway, and after eating in a public place, I got up with a couple of people (me and two men) and we went up to dispose of our plates at a garbage station- and the attendant, even though I was last to reach the station, grabs my plate from me, doesn't even offer to help the men out with theirs. I knew it was because I am a woman, and at first I wondered, "what is it that I appear that I can't clean off my plate just like the men?". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;But then it struck me- hurray!! I get special treatment. It comes unsolicited by me, as I have mentioned. I never ask for it, and I certainly prefer that I don't get it. BUT - if someone is going to offer it, I might as well accept it, happily. Is this silly? Shallow? Even defeatist? However, I figure that people are just trying to be polite, and doing it with the best of intentions. Why should I be rude and not show appreciation for their good manners? Plus, I guess it's true- if you can't beat em, join em! :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;I know I am rambling as of now, but I feel good coming to terms with one part of feminism. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;I think another part is the recent, new realization that I deserve being treated well. This comes from my therapist who once scolded me for not accepting compliments. I think I blogged about this before, right? Well basically, if someone says "that's a cute dress" or "you were so great up there" or "you are beautiful", I ought to accept it and say thanks! No more of this crap like "No no I was horrid" or "I don't think I'm pretty"- I realized it's awkward and even kind of rude when people reject compliments, anyways. So I think the whole concept works here. I shouldn't feel bad if someone takes my plate for me, I should graciously accept it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-3043692477188779752?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/3043692477188779752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=3043692477188779752' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/3043692477188779752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/3043692477188779752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/10/observation.html' title='An Observation'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-5432956978430315129</id><published>2009-10-27T19:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T20:05:24.261-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>Ok hello! I know, it's been a while. I haven't been entirely out of the blogging loop, though-- I started a new blog because Trent and I are currently traveling the country in a HAL motorcoach, doing promotion for Alaska Cruises and Cruisetours. It is seriously one of the best gigs I've ever had. It's given me so many wonderful opportunities/experiences, and has some really great perks, too. ANYWAYS, I'm trying to maintain a blog about this experience that can be found here: &lt;a href="http://abbytrentquack.blogspot.com"&gt;http://abbytrentquack.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt; but if this blog is any indication of my maintenance skills, then you know it's not ever going to be entirely updated! :) &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This blog is still going to be updated though, with my random thoughts. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And finally, I'm happy to say that the things that I discussed below are not really eating at us anymore- whether the problem still remains in Utah, we don't really care anymore, because we aren't there! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-5432956978430315129?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/5432956978430315129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=5432956978430315129' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/5432956978430315129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/5432956978430315129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/10/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-4368500993831616546</id><published>2009-09-05T18:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T19:55:50.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rant of Sorts</title><content type='html'>One thing I've enjoyed (but didn't quite realize it all the time) while here in Alaska is that hardly anyone is trying to perfect others. This is a far cry from Utah County, where people are constantly prying into one's personal life, trying to find things they can fix. In Utah, Mormonism is not a choice; rather, it is a social code of conduct and if you don't follow it, everyone else has the right to bark up your tree about how detrimental your disobedience is to yourself and to others. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I notice this now that my poor husband has returned back to Utah, only to be hassled by people about our lifestyle choices, choices which are neither damaging nor unusual-- They just aren't what some people envision our lives to be. Instead, they want to pick at every one of his character traits, trying to make sense of why he chooses to live the way he does. Well, here's the answer: We are very happy, and we don't want to be changed. There are some things we'd love help with; I'm sure Trent would enjoy someone to help him with his homework, and hey, I need a job- can you help me out? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But we DON'T need help making choices in life. We are not 5 years old  any longer. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I, for one, have never lived my life trying to please others. To me, that is pointless, because it will never be successful. After all, I remember sitting at lunch in 6th grade with some "popular" girls, and as soon as one of the "friends" walked away from the table, the other girls immediately began to gossip about her and say mean things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If I didn't know it before, I knew it then: people are fake! They live double lives, acting nice or perfect one minute, then stabbing you in the back the next. I imagine I might have gotten a lot further in life if I was fake- you know, suck up to this person, flash a boob to that person (&lt;--hehe). If I don't have something to say to someone, I am not going to make up a fake conversation; I will not flatter anyone undeservedly. If I feel fake doing it, I won't do it. I won't change for someone else, and anyone who does that is straight up insecure. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can't people just take a deep breath, and love each other without worrying about the eternal ramifications? Just for a minute? I imagine it gets very tiring to be concerned all the time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-4368500993831616546?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/4368500993831616546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=4368500993831616546' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/4368500993831616546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/4368500993831616546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/09/rant-of-sorts.html' title='Rant of Sorts'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-1289119317809789457</id><published>2009-08-02T15:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T15:35:52.179-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weird Dreams</title><content type='html'>As a young child, I repeatedly dreamt that I was driving a car, but A) I didn't know how, and B) I didn't have a license because I was too young. I'd always start freaking out, and inevitably the cops would catch on and start following me. I hated these dreams. Yet when I turned 17 and got my license, they stopped forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, when I graduated from high school, I started having dreams that I was back in school for whatever reason. I've had dreams where I was in 3rd grade, and others when I'm in my Junior year. Now that I'm just now done with college, I am having dreams of being back there. And I've decided that it's really weird to be done with school. I presume that I am done with school completely, as I currently have no interest in graduate school (although this could change eventually). It's a relief and a burden at the same time. I'm glad I will never have to worry about another exam or paper, but now I have to deal with a job for. the. rest. of. my. life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-1289119317809789457?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/1289119317809789457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=1289119317809789457' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1289119317809789457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1289119317809789457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/08/weird-dreams.html' title='Weird Dreams'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-7124002646776493470</id><published>2009-07-30T17:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T18:00:16.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can we say awkward?</title><content type='html'>So. Just got back from the gym. I am still (figuratively) dripping sweat as we speak because I had to run out of there so quickly. So I'm at the end of my routine, just sitting down on the mats to do some crunches, when some guy (skinny, curly hair, glasses= you know) comes in (the gym had, up to this point, been empty). I've got my earplugs in, jamming to some Rihanna, and wiping the drops of perspiration off my face, when he goes "excuse me ma'am" so I take off my headphones, and he says, "Can I take you out to dinner sometime?" WTF!?!?! So I was like "I'm married, thanks". LOL. Then he replied very awkwardly, "You're married? Ok cool", smiles and walks away. I basically did like 3 crunches to pretend like I wasn't freaked out when I actually was quite terrified. Then I fled. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;SO weird, am I right? Like first off, I had never seen him before, let alone actually spoken any words, as one would usually do prior to asking one out. Like, you'd probably want to gage one's interest/availability before just getting straight to the point! Secondly, it probably isn't the best timing in the world when my face looks like vinyl, it's so sweaty!! Maybe that's what it was, the glowy, ultra-dewy skin?? hahaha. I really felt like calling in Hitch for this fellow, because he definitely needs some game advice.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;End of awkwardness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-7124002646776493470?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/7124002646776493470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=7124002646776493470' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7124002646776493470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7124002646776493470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/07/can-we-say-awkward.html' title='Can we say awkward?'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-1651599650138319545</id><published>2009-07-28T22:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T22:56:58.117-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes, I am still in AK...and here's what I'm up to!</title><content type='html'>Not sure if anyone really cares about a run down of what's going on in my life, but I also happen to know that voyeurism is a popular sport these days, so I will proceed with divulging all the news in my life.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok first off, if you haven't heard, Trent and I formed a Ghost Hunting club, &lt;a href="http://www.peachychickenparanormal.com"&gt;Peachy Chicken Paranormal Investigators&lt;/a&gt;. Yes, that is our website. It's a work in progress, but we also have a blog, &lt;a href="http://www.peachychickenparanormal.blogspot.com"&gt;Peachychickenparanormal.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;. And that is also a work in progress but is really cool, nonetheless. Anyways, our club has been hugely successful up here in the north, both in terms of the public's interest, and in our findings at various locations. On our blog we are going to catalog all of our fun experiences. But right now we have 30+ members, and even though the summer is coming to an end (for some), the club will keep on strong when everyone relocates to Utah and nearby regions. We just got our t-shirts in, and we have a bunch of other fun Peachy Chicken paraphenelia, so basically, it rocks. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next, I am still here in Skagway, and I am getting what some could call cabin fever. Which is actually impressive because last year I started getting cabin fever around June, so the fact that I've made it this far is pretty impressive. The kicker is I still have 2 months to go. It's not that I don't like it here-- in all honesty, I'm rather content this summer. It's just that our drivers are going to start leaving soon in a slow trickle, and I guess just knowing that people will be back at home living lives, with a Wendy's at one's beck-and-call is kind of depressing. That and I am getting kinda anxious thinking about where we are going to live, how I am going to find a job, etc when I get back. I think I am jumping the gun a little, because I've got so much time left, but I'm just not used to staying til October 1, so I am used to leaving not long from now. But I'm not leaving. It's so weird. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Finally, I've gotten through the entire day today without eating any sort of junk food. I've been trying to eat healthily for the past week or so, but it is usually pretty difficult. Case in point: yesterday I lost control and snarfed down a butterfinger and reese's peanut butter cup. And other assorted chocolates that I cannot remember, but most assuredly enjoyed. That was not very conducive to my diet, in which it is currently a goal of mine to consume at least 30 grams of fiber and no more than 30 grams of fat daily. Fiber not only produces regular bowel movements, but it also helps break down fat or something like that. All I know is that by monitoring one's intake of fat, it also generally monitors the intake of calories and sugar, etc. I hope to see some sort of change soon, as I think I am doing pretty well, especially today. I didn't sneak a single jelly bean from my friend/co-worker, LoriLee's desk. Even better, one of my other co-workers mentioned today that I look like I've lost weight. First off, I know this to be untrue because I am still weighing in the same (but I know some of it is now muscle, previously known as fat, lol), but I like these compliments nonetheless. Bring them on!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Except I will say that comments about one having lost weight can be a little disturbing because it's like, was I that fat to begin with? Now I was not too fat (ok, I am 15 lbs heavier than I was 4-5 years ago, but I am also no longer a spry 19 yr old, right?) but I guess it can be said that sometimes people hope that other people won't notice they are fat. If no one says anything, maybe they don't notice. Wrong. People don't dare comment on it, but they are probably still thinking that I could lose a couple pounds here or there. Whatever. I am going to the gym religiously and eating "healthy" food, so I guess they can say whatever they want. Plus I really am not heavy by any means. I'm a size 4 for pete's sake. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways that's my random ramblings for today. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-1651599650138319545?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/1651599650138319545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=1651599650138319545' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1651599650138319545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1651599650138319545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/07/yes-i-am-still-in-akand-heres-what-im.html' title='Yes, I am still in AK...and here&apos;s what I&apos;m up to!'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-8718375086646342487</id><published>2009-06-07T16:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T17:12:28.937-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Earthquakes</title><content type='html'>So, I just felt my second earthquake since being here in Skagway. I was sitting in my office, when all of a sudden the floor started shaking quite vigorously. It shook for at least 10 seconds, and then petered out to a gentle vibration until it was gone. There was only one other person in the office, and he did not feel it at all. I was kind of shocked because it was not like things were falling off my walls or anything, but it lasted a while and was noticeable to me. ANYWAYS, so I looked it up on &lt;a href="http://www.aeic.alaska.edu/Seis/recenteqs/index.html"&gt;http://www.aeic.alaska.edu/Seis/recenteqs/index.html&lt;/a&gt;, which is an excellent resource, and sure enough, it was a 5.37 Magnitude, located approximately 65 miles away. Pretty far, which is why we didn't get any real brute force, but a 5.37 is pretty big. The last one I felt was approx. 3.7, and it was noticeable, but not as much as this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that Alaska has a lot of earthquakes. But I think it's odd that I've never felt any until this summer, and both happened to be in my office. Maybe it's because my office is close to the ocean? I am maybe 150 feet from water. I am sorry to say I don't know much about earthquakes, other than that we get a lot here in Alaska, and I think they are kinda cool. I by no means think kindly of the huge, devastating kind, but the smaller ones are intriguing to say the least. Our earth is interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I know this is all kind of dorky, but I am excited to have experienced a couple!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-8718375086646342487?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/8718375086646342487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=8718375086646342487' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/8718375086646342487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/8718375086646342487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/06/earthquakes.html' title='Earthquakes'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-8761735575170459554</id><published>2009-05-07T07:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T08:20:54.525-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Greetings from the North Pole!</title><content type='html'>Ok, so maybe I'm not &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; far north, but I am back for my 3rd (!) summer season in Skagway, AK. I've actually been here for a week and a half now, so the surrealism has worn off, but it's still kinda crazy to be back. When I first arrived, I felt like I hadn't even left. It just all looked the exact same. I really wonder what happened to the 9 months in between. They just whizzed right by!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, here's what I'm up to these days. I'm an "Operations Supervisor" for my company, which means I, along with 3 others, directly supervise 60+ drivers to schedule them and make sure their needs are met. So far, it's been very busy, and there's been a lot to learn, but I have high hopes for the summer and the experience I'm going to have therein. So yea, that's what's up in a nutshell. :) More updates soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-8761735575170459554?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/8761735575170459554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=8761735575170459554' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/8761735575170459554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/8761735575170459554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/05/greetings-from-north-pole.html' title='Greetings from the North Pole!'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-4459050193614643568</id><published>2009-04-20T19:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T19:20:48.350-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Pet Peeve</title><content type='html'>So today, during my bi-weekly retail therapy session, I was at a store in which the manager and a sales associate were sitting behind the counter gossiping about another fellow employee. I did not really catch the gist of the convo, but I did hear that they were hating on this individual. Ok can I just say that this behavior irks me so much? How do these people even become managers?? There must not be a professionalism course in their training. Or do they even get trainig? I mean, it drives me nuts when sales associates talk crap about their job or employer-- after, all it seems like this happens at most crusty mall stores-- but the manager? I am willing to bet that this manager is a good person- in fact, I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt that I would maybe even like her if I met her on the street. But I just think people need to take a good look at the way they act in public, especially when they are representing a certain company. End rant here. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-4459050193614643568?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/4459050193614643568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=4459050193614643568' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/4459050193614643568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/4459050193614643568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/04/pet-peeve.html' title='A Pet Peeve'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-7069535274755805358</id><published>2009-04-06T21:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T21:29:43.227-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Are Blogs Dangerous Ground?</title><content type='html'>So I know some people out there in this world who have gotten in trouble b/c of things they've said on their blogs. Actually, I have to admit that when I was younger I might have said some regretful, hurtful things about a friend that came to bite me in the ass later, long after I forgot I had written them. Because we are hiding behind a screen when online, I think it's a lot easier to express ourselves. However, sometimes that freedom to be ourselves hurts us later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately, I know of people whose jobs have been compromised, others whose mental health has been questioned, and so forth, because of the things they've said on their blogs. Nowadays even facebook and myspace are places where employers seek for potential candidates, where colleges investigate applicants. So, are blogs dangerous ground? Should we even blog, or is it not worth the risk of reputation? One of my fave bloggers is a girl who is very open with her feelings and thoughts. She doesn't front, she says exactly how she feels, even if it's a bit unhappy or not what people wanna hear. Instead of the typical blogger of how happy she was chasing her children around the house or baking cookies for her husband, she talks about real life and real feelings. Yet she is often criticized for putting herself out there so much, especially since her feelings can really be like a rollercoaster ride sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I think that in real-life, we have a hard time expressing our feelings. Let's face it, most of us are too afraid to confront people we don't know so well, or whatever it is. Most of us are a little whimpy, and so we never get our true feelings out. So it is kind of refreshing to have a forum where we feel we can express ourselves. Not to say we should gripe behind people's backs or bask in our insecurity. But at the same time, it's not totally unusual for people to be human. And kind of refreshing to read their blogs and say "phew! good, they're normal". There's really nothing wrong with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, it's ok to be careful about what you say, as in maybe not attacking people personally or posting nekkid pics (LOL) - good judgment is really important! But otherwise, it's ok to be real, and blogs are a great way to share that reality. That's all. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-7069535274755805358?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/7069535274755805358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=7069535274755805358' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7069535274755805358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7069535274755805358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/04/are-blogs-dangerous-ground.html' title='Are Blogs Dangerous Ground?'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-1273522896946516771</id><published>2009-03-27T21:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T21:27:50.956-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sickyy'/><title type='text'>Sickyy</title><content type='html'>So while driving to school today, the djs on the radio were talking about weird things that have happened in the public restroom (like people eating chips on the jon, and so forth) and I was trying to think about weird things that have happened to me. A long time ago I wrote a post about one of &lt;a href="http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/03/poop-attacks.html"&gt;my public restroom pet peeves&lt;/a&gt; and that was basically the weirdest thing I could think of. Well, little did I know that in a matter of hours, I would have one of the weirdest/grossest public restroom experiences...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, class ends, I'm ready to go home, but I decide to stop at the restroom on the way out of the JKB. I see this girl coming from the other direction who ducks into the bathroom, and 10 seconds later, I push my way into the rest room as well. However, the restroom door felt all wet. I thought this kinda gross and weird, but I didn't see anything on the door, figured it was just water, although I definitely still thought it odd that there was water on the door. Well just as I walked in, I heard from the stall where the girl went, a sound that was akin to someone pouring a bucket of water into the toilet. Sounded strange but I carried on w/ my business.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, after my tinkle, I come out of the stall, and the people walking into the bathroom are all like grossed out, and looking at their hand, and then going straight to the sink to wash it. I washed my hands and although I usually like to do a good hand washing job, I figured this was a good time to really scrub hard b/c who really knows what I touched?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So then, as I was walking out of the restroom, I looked down, and I saw it. Puke trailing all the way from the bathroom door to the girl's stall. Oh yummy. And then I smelled it and it got stuck in my throat- all hot and heavy and gross! So I definitely used tons of antibacterial stuff all day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then later in the day I found out my dogs had soiled their blankets, but only after I grabbed the pee soaked blanket! This is a day of sickyy for sure. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-1273522896946516771?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/1273522896946516771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=1273522896946516771' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1273522896946516771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1273522896946516771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/03/sickyy.html' title='Sickyy'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-5208888643600243838</id><published>2009-03-04T13:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T13:23:07.578-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Note to Aspiring Bloggers...</title><content type='html'>...don't be a slacker like me! Posting once a month or less is no way to attract readers. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, per Bethany's request, I am writing an entry. I hope Bethany will now have something to do this afternoon. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what have I been up to lately? Well, I'm working on graduating at the end of April - can't wait-, I've been living in my grandmother's abode (aka housesitting) while she is cooped up in Cali, I have been working for vending for BYU (manual labor, YEA!), etc, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have seen a couple good movies lately: Confessions of a Shopaholic, and He's Just not that Into You. My goal is to see Slumdog Millionaire tonight! Can't wait! The first two I listed, though chick flicks, were both good in their own ways. Both chick flicks, but two different moods in either. And actually, the He's Just not that Into You film is what I have been thinking about today, for no whatever reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To set up the premise of the book/movie, it's basically a bunch of relationship scenarios in which the girl (or guy) make up excuses for the significant other's lack of pursuit. ie, he's out of town so he can't call me, his mom might be in the hospital, he's married, etc etc. Now, ok maybe some excuses like he's married are justified (LOL) but still the bottom line is, HE's JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU! If he is on his business trip, great, but he will find time to call you if he's interested. He will ask you out on a date if he's interested, he will divorce his wife he likes you THAT much (again I don't necessarily condone this one obviously so don't read into it that way, I'm just stating a fact of life). If not, move on til you find a guy who IS into you. Because a into you type of guy will not miss out on his chance to be with you, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANYWAYS, there's a specific scenario about a married couple- the guy has an affair with another girl. He tells the girl he likes her, but he is too "wussy" to leave his wife- so instead, he plays both of them, telling the girl he loves her, telling his wife he loves her. So in essence, the he's just not that into you plays for both girls: the wife, because if he loved her so much, why is cheating? And the girlfriend- why doesn't he leave his wife for her?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, eventually (and sorry, this is a big SPOILER!!! DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T WANT SOME OF THE ENDING GIVEN AWAY- BUT THEN YOU'LL MISS OUT ON THE POINT OF MY ENTRY, LOL), the wife leaves him. She flat out dumps his ass on a corner somewhere. Well, not really, but she shifts into female empowerment gear and moves on in her life, and even though it probably hurts, she is all the better for it. Sighh. What a wonderful scene. Or is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's just say, it is COMPLETELY UNREALISTIC. Sure, that is what every neglected woman in this world should do. Cut the crap, move on. Don't sit there waiting for the db to change, while you could really spend your time with someone who actually cares. Or so the writers of the book would say. However, in the movie, the woman must have a pretty nice job, because she moves out and gets a new fancy apartment somewhere in Baltimore. She doesn't have to move into her parents' spare bedroom with 5 kids, because she doesn't even have any kids. So while the way she deals with her husbands' cheating is admirable, most wives can't afford to walk out. I think that is one reason why they always try to "work it out" with their husband. "Where am I gonna go? I don't have a job, a livelihood. I don't think anyone will ever be attracted to me b/c I've gained 50lbs after all these kids. I don't even have any marketable skills".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I do have a problem with women who don't practice their marketable skills (in case of a rainy day) but honestly that is another topic for another day. But what I am saying IS along those lines: What does a woman do? Stay, knowing that her husband may hurt her again and again- forgive him, not because you have forgiveness to give, but because it's your only chance for survival? I guess I feel bad for women who don't have tons of $$, who don't have marketable skills, etc to help them get through a divorce...so in return they end up staying in a bad relationship. Because even though I'm close to graduation, I wonder what I would do if I got divorced. Already, after 1.5 yrs of marriage, I feel dependent to the point where I don't know what I'd do if didn't have my husband. That's a scary thought, and it's something EVERY WOMAN, no matter how young or old, needs to consider. Because you just never know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this could be guys too, I just used woman throughout the post to make it easier, but a man could definitely find himself in the same situation..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok I'm off. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-5208888643600243838?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/5208888643600243838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=5208888643600243838' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/5208888643600243838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/5208888643600243838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/03/note-to-aspiring-bloggers.html' title='Note to Aspiring Bloggers...'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-7513887050119396876</id><published>2009-01-24T10:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T11:41:06.337-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Juicy Secrets</title><content type='html'>Have you ever heard of&lt;a href="http://postsecret.blogspot.com/"&gt; postsecret&lt;/a&gt;? If not, check it out and it's pretty obvious what it is- people send their secrets in on postcards and the blogger posts about 20 each Sunday. It has been so successful that they have published at least 3 giant books full of postsecrets. And one of my secrets? One day I want to get off my lazy butt and send in my own secret! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, this LDS blogger &lt;a href="http://adamandkristinapulsipher.blogspot.com/2009/01/power-of-secret-take-3.html"&gt;Pulispher Predilections&lt;/a&gt;, recently sponsored her own type of postsecret, inviting readers to anonymously post their secrets in the comments section. Unfortunately, she closed it before I could post my secret, but 451 people posted! And many of them I swear I could've written. Others however, were super depressing, I wanted to cry for them, because I realize that the poker face is way too common- we have no idea what people are feeling or going through, do we? I think if I sent in a secret mine would probably be: Thanks to postsecret, I learned how normal I really am. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are some of the interesting secrets submitted. My comments will tell you how I feel about the given secrets:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I appear to believe in the Church, but I don't anymore.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This was said fairly frequently amongst the LDS secrets, though in many different ways. There are a lot of people putting on a facade to impress their neighbors, but in reality, it's just to keep up with the Joneses. I hope people learn to escape that trap. Being honest with yourself and others is the best way to feel sane- it is seriously so rewarding. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My first husband cheated on me so many times that when he unexpectedly died, I was relieved. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;There were a lot of posts about relationships that aren't so hot. Husbands are lazy, unappreciative, neglecting, etc. Since 50% of marriages end up in divorce and among the ones that survive, I'd bet only 20% are actually good, it's no surprise. Relationships are by no means easy, and I could go on and on on this topic for hours, but basically, not all relationships should be continued, such as the one above. For those with "smaller" problems, get help.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Most of the time I feel like a teenager pretending to be an adult. Every once in awhile I'm terrified someone's gonna call me on it. "What do you think you're doing?! You don't belong here with us REAL adults!"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hehe. It's because adults have always looked like they know what they're doing, and since I definitely don't know what I'm doing, I don't feel like how I always imagined it would be to be an adult. Then one day I realized, adults are just as confused as kids! :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm ready for another baby. My husband isn't. And I don't know what to do. I wish I could get my IUD removed without telling him, but the guilt would eat away at me.&lt;br /&gt;And he'd know what I'd spent money on. I HATE being on such a strict budget that there is absolutlely no wiggle room.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Well, I can't relate to the wanting a baby thing- but I do think communication is key. Obv it's missing  from this relationship. And the $$ thing is also problematic. Certainly $ can be tight, but I take issue with women confined to their husbands via the pocketbook. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I wish Mormon women who have been through the temple could wear sexier underwear than our garments. I appreciate and understand what the garments represent, and I'm thankful for that, but they are seriously unsexy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I would be happy with just a more comfortable one, particularly for my body shape. Like, why are all the good cuts in slippery, bunchy fabric? And I wish I just didn't feel 10lbs heavier when wearing them. Otherwise, while not sexy in the least, I like wearing them anyways.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-I spend too much money and most of it my husband doesn't know about. I'm such a pig. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I second this! I am definitely a little miss piggy. Although my husband eventually knows about it b/c I can't keep a secret for the life of me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-I read "Between Husband and Wife" and it says specifically to not use Sex as a bargaining tool. So I don't, and I think were happier because of it.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I did not read this book, but I agree. I know of couples that if the wife can get a new pair of shoes she will give it to him. It's like prostitution. Our bargaining tool is that if husband can get rock climbing holds or whatev, I can get more makeup! :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-It bugs me when members of the church don't keep the Sabbath day holy. It's so disrespectful and it sets a bad example for their kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-and-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-I hate when people don't keep their temple covenants.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;I wish that people would not worry so much about who goes to church, who keeps the sabbath day holy or who does or doesn't keep their temple covenants. The covenants belong to the individual or couple that made them, and if they don't keep them, it's their deal, no one else's. Why do we lose sleep at night worrying about what someone else is or isn't doing? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The biggest problem with *some* of the members of the church is their desire to single-handedly perfect everyone else- and they will often stop at nothing until they think they have accomplished just that. The reality is, no one in this entire church is perfect. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-i find some of these secrets really really sad. i hope those of you who really have some hard secrets do something about them. talk to a counselor or find a social worker. please. it will make you happier...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I hope many of those people do just that, and that they'll confront and accept their imperfections. Instead of worrying how we look to the Joneses, how about we enjoy being different?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-7513887050119396876?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/7513887050119396876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=7513887050119396876' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7513887050119396876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7513887050119396876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/01/juicy-secrets.html' title='Juicy Secrets'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-5181397735077229416</id><published>2009-01-20T14:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T14:41:16.108-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Barry O</title><content type='html'>So, there are a lot of griping (particularly from the LDS community) about our brand-spanking-new Pres. O- apparently a lot of peeps are annoyed at the "hope" this new presidency brings to the U.S. people. Yea, because hope is something pubes simply aren't used to feeling from their party. I keep hearing comments like "people think everything's gonna change over night b/c of Obama, but it won't" blah blah blah and the like. Obv, it should be a given that things will take a long time to change, and most likely few changes will be made even within the first term.  Believe it or not, some misinformed people out there think now that Obama is in we are all going to be millionaires- literally. Kid you not. Wave a magic wand and all of Bush's wreckage (and then some) is going to be gone. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I prefer to appeal to Obama himself, in something he said during his inauguration address. As he was talking about change, I was thinking of JFK's famous quote: "Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country" and just as I was thinking that, President Barry pretty much said the same thing in his own words, inviting all Americans to go forward looking for ways to accelerate change. I was like "A-freaking-men"! Change depends on how much we, the American people want it, and what we do to facilitate that change. There's very little Obama can do as president- really, he doesn't have as much power as we think to actually physically do things, but one thing he can do is generate hope for us to grab onto. Can you see how people have become so hopeful lately? Optimistic? Things are going to get better, or so we think. And sometimes the right attitude makes all the difference. Economists always talk about consumer confidence and its impact on the market. Confidence can definitely facilitate good things. Again, like I said before, we still need to work for it, as there's little that the government can do, but I am glad most people approve of Obama. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-5181397735077229416?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/5181397735077229416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=5181397735077229416' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/5181397735077229416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/5181397735077229416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/01/barry-o.html' title='Barry O'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-3706221594256950817</id><published>2009-01-11T19:50:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T19:50:47.389-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-3706221594256950817?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/3706221594256950817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=3706221594256950817' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/3706221594256950817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/3706221594256950817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/01/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-1564936371906512002</id><published>2009-01-06T21:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T21:47:38.822-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr. President, Have Pity on the Working Man</title><content type='html'>It's times like these that to be honest, I am grateful we have a democrat president. Democrats are notorious for their desire to help the individual, and although that has been criticized (most people on welfare abuse it, or people who get help from the gov't are lazy, yadda yadda yadda), I think we are starting to appreciate that idea, since even the hardest working people are suffering right now. I love that yesterday Obama met with congressional leaders to discuss a $300 billion tax cut, which would save the average person $500 in taxes ($1000 a couple). As with EVERY decision that President Obama will make, there are obviously supporters and opponents, but I think what he said about it was most important:&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt; "The reason we are here today is because the people's business cannot wait". &lt;/span&gt;This is evident of how in tune Obama is with the American people. He realizes that something MUST be done, and it cannot be the usual, or what would be done in a normal time. This is a time of struggle that is different from any other we've seen- ever. Even the Great Depression was different, because things have changed so much. We rely a lot more on international products, our economy therefore affecting the entire world. Anyways, I have always loved Paul Newman's song &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mr. President; &lt;/span&gt;I always thought of Bush every time I heard it over the past 8 years, but I always sighed knowing that he was simply too out of touch with the people. It seemed like such an appropriate song for him. I am just hoping that Obama's start is a sign of what he will do the entire time he is in office, and that that song never reminds me of him. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-1564936371906512002?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/1564936371906512002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=1564936371906512002' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1564936371906512002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1564936371906512002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/01/mr-president-have-pity-on-working-man.html' title='Mr. President, Have Pity on the Working Man'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-1613602544261512664</id><published>2009-01-05T19:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T20:01:59.477-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Great Start to the Semester</title><content type='html'>Ok no offense, but just because you are wearing penny loafers does not mean you actually need to insert a penny into the slot. I saw a GIRL wearing penny loafers with pennies in them today on campus. I get slightly concerned by some of the things I see on that campus, but the scariest thing is when I look in the mirror and realize I am no better than anyone else in my fashion. :)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways today I started school AND found myself a job. Not bad for day 1 of looking right? Well, actually, it is for BYU Vending, I worked for them a couple of years ago, and some-freaking-how, the manager remembered me! I really didn't think he would, particularly without me refreshing his memory since it's been what, 2 1/2 years? Anyways I feel really blessed to have a job. I don't really "need" one perse, since my husband is working this semester (and makes prob 3x what I am) but with only 8 credits on my schedule, I figured a little part-time job would be fun for me. I always enjoyed vending, it's one of those jobs that you never really think about, the vending machine just fills itself, right? Just like billboards change themselves. hehe. But it's really fun to see how things work and I remember how in shape I was from hauling boxes all over campus! I'm definitely looking forward to it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am taking 3 classes this semester: My senior english "capstone" course that focuses on mystery and detective literature; The english novel in which we will read a 700 page George Eliot novel, among others; and finally, basic makeup! I am so so excited for this one, b/c I love makeup and now I am going to learn techniques that will hopefully advance me into the field! Oh, and if anyone ever is in town wants to be a model for me, please let me know, as I prefer to work on other people, but I have to bring my own if I want to do that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So other than nearly peeing my pants in fright coming home in a blizzard tonight, things are going pretty well. Seriously I hate driving in the snow- I never do, since I usually force Trent to drive in those conditions (he is my chauffeur), but since he's out of town, I actually have to do difficult things for myself. Pshhh. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-1613602544261512664?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/1613602544261512664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=1613602544261512664' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1613602544261512664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1613602544261512664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/01/great-start-to-semester.html' title='A Great Start to the Semester'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-7405912460492151933</id><published>2009-01-04T20:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T20:38:37.820-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year!</title><content type='html'>I thought a revamped blog layout would be appropriate for ringing in the new year (even though I'm a few days late in ringing it in, haha). I feel like a schmuck though, because I didn't even come up with any resolutions- not that I would have kept them for very long anyways. Actually, I do hope to come up with a couple, and maybe they don't coincide necessarily with the new year, but they will be things I have planned anyways, such as getting more exercise and eating healthy. Like I say, they probably won't last very long! :)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So just an update on my life: First, I must say I am a little unsure of what direction I'm going to take my blog. I like addressing issues that are important to me, but I also realize that the internet is kind of like the feather analogy - if you rip a pillow open outdoors, and let the feathers float all over, try picking them up again, it will not be possible. Eventually any information on here will be all over the web, and maybe that's not what I want. So we'll see how things go, I still want to address more topics than just the mundane trivialities of life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yea so I wrapped up the Fall Semester rather well- I got my best grades ever, which really is not a 4.0 by any means, but I was still pleased with the results. I loved ALL my classes, and it was my last FULL semester of undergrad work. Tomorrow I am starting school; I only have 2 classes (5 credits) this semester, so I plan on getting a part-time job to keep me semi-busy. I don't know where I'll be working yet, but that's something I'm dealing with this week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Trent and I spent the holiday in the east coast; half of it in Washington DC, the other half of it in NYC. Unfortunately, I caught this "gastroentronitis" or something like that, which is a sort of flu that has been wiping everyone out! It was horrible, I've never felt so ill before. It was weird though because it would kind of come and go, or at least the effects would lessen for a short time before coming back. It was nice that I could go out and do things during those times, but overall I wasn't able to do a lot, because I was so worn out and tired. I did get to go to the MAC Cosmetics Pro store and grab some hard to find goodies! On one of the last nights of my trip, I woke up at 2:30 am with the worst gas pains I'd ever felt in my life. It felt like my stomach was blowing up like a balloon, but no gas was being released. I definitely panicked, wondering what if I just popped? lol it sounds funny, but really wasn't at the time, so my mom took me to the emergency room. I had to wait an hour in the waiting room and wanted to die, the pain was excruciating. However, by the time they admitted me, the gas had started passing a little, and I was starting to feel better. I was given 2 IV bags worth of fluids because I was quite dehydrated- I was gaunt and weak, but as they gave my fluids, my mom said it was amazing that my face started getting fuller and more color again. They also gave me a few pain meds in the IV- wasn't so sure that I needed them, but what the heck, who's going to reject free pain meds? Those made me feel kind of good, at least relaxed enough to sleep for a while when I got home 4 hours later. The next day, they told me I could only eat clear liquids like broth and jell-o but I'm sorry, I couldn't do that all day. I felt better at that point so I might have eaten a little pasta. :) NOW, I've been plagued with a cold, which totally bites - I just can't get rid of these illnesses it seems!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Trent is in Seattle this week for work; he left today, and I already miss him like the dickens! It's times like these that I'm grateful to be living in such close proximity to my mother in law (hehe), because at least there's someone to talk to. It just stinks b/c last year, at least I had my little sister here with me to hang out with, but while I have friends here, I don't really have any that I hang out with, so that might have to change this week. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One thing I am a little concerned about is my one and only living grandmother, "Big G". While vacationing in California, she slipped and fell and broke her arm and leg! At first we thought it was her shoulder and pelvic bone, but it turns out it's her thigh bone or somewhere near the pelvis, and her upper arm near her shoulder. She is expected to be in the hospital for a time before she can return home, so quite possibly she won't return for 6-8 weeks. I am also worried that once she does return, she will not be able to perform simple tasks like climbing the stairs. :( I am hoping I can visit her this weekend, since Trent will be out of town anyways. I hope things work out for her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So that's my life in review in a "nutshell". There's nothing really exciting obviously, but I am looking forward to the next couple months. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-7405912460492151933?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/7405912460492151933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=7405912460492151933' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7405912460492151933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7405912460492151933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2009/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year!'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-6482357398514427296</id><published>2008-12-20T09:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T10:23:24.016-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ok so after posting I decided the smartest idea was to take our new feline friend to the vet and get him checked out ASAP, in case his leg was indicative of something worse to come. I figured they would have to amputate and that we'd basically just establish this at that appointment. However, the vet told us that what most likely is wrong with his leg is that it got nerve damage, maybe from running from another animal or getting stuck somewhere and having to pull on his leg. He said our kitty could still feel in a couple toes, and so hopefully in the next few weeks, the nerves will heal themselves. That would mean no amputation and our cat would have 4 fully-functioning legs! However, there is a chance that he won't regain the use, and then it would have to be taken off. But for now, no amputation needed! While there, we did get him tested for all sorts of Feline diseases like FIV and Feline Lukemia and AIDs, all of which turned up negative for our sweetie! And we got him de-wormed and treated for a sinus infection, so hopefully within the next 2 weeks we will also get him through his first series of vaccinations. I was surprised to learn he is probably 3-4 months old by now!! Because he's been out on his own, he probably hasn't got the nourishment that he needed so we need to fatten him up! :)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, with this new kitty in our lives, I am reminded of all the pets we had as children, and I realized that pretty much every one of them were strays: Kato, the crazy cat who followed my oldest sister to and from school in SLC; Maddie, our stray golden retriever my mom found at a Christmas tree lot; Kitten Man, who was maybe not a stray, but we picked him up from the DC Animal Shelter; Bad Thing, beautiful fat tabby who wandered in our yard in VA for a couple days until we adopted her into our home; Lapin, the world's largest grumpy rabbit who was in our yard in PA (and probably wild but somehow we got him into a cage); and Garey, a feral who was abandoned by his mother at just a couple weeks old.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now, with times being difficult, there are more strays than ever, and the shelters are filled to the brim with animals being brought in. People are even leaving animals at the dump! If I could offer any advice to anyone looking to buy a pet, I would say adopt! There are so so so many great pets available, either through a shelter adoption site like petfinder.org, or through local classifieds. You can get pretty much any kind of cat or dog, large or small, siamese or long hair, etc. through these services- After all, 25% of animals in shelters are purebred! Most of them come with routinized vaccines and spay/neutring, some even come micro-chipped so if you lose your pal, he/she can be returned to you. So it's actually far cheaper to adopt, and you're giving a beautiful animal a life it may not have had if you didn't stop by. Just with all the animals waiting to be adopted, there's no reason to buy from a pet store, who often use mills to churn out the animals in filthy, dangerous environments, often resulting in health complications down the road. The more and more animals that are produced, the more and more strays we have. Thus, neutering/spaying is important, and it's also important to save the animals we already have instead of producing more and more. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And if you find a stray, do anything you can to NOT take it to a shelter, because as I mentioned, there's really never room for them, especially now, and a perfectly good animal will be put down because of it. Our kitty is a good example of this, because they'd probably see the leg and think "no one wants this cat" and it would be on the top of the list for euthanasia. However, he is still so vital, loving and perfectly fine, given some time to heal. He is such a darling, how could he be put down? So if you can, find a responsible friend to take it, keep it yourself or even an animal sanctuary, though not ideal is better than a shelter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And may I also mention don't declaw your cat? &lt;a href="http://www.declawing.com/htmls/declawing.htm"&gt;Declawing&lt;/a&gt; is like cutting off the tips of your fingers. It's intrusive, it's de-feline-ating (like demasculating but for cats) and this whole conquering of a species with us thinking we are superior and can just take its limbs to convenience us is gross. And what if it goes outside accidentally and can't defend itself? Eww, just read the article.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok enough of my animal rights rant, but I don't see anything unreasonable with treating the animals we have with respect. Next time, we will be talking about wild animals and farm animals! :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-6482357398514427296?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/6482357398514427296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=6482357398514427296' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/6482357398514427296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/6482357398514427296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/12/ok-so-after-posting-i-decided-smartest.html' title=''/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-5549562359130449944</id><published>2008-12-18T21:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T21:49:18.455-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Meow Meow!</title><content type='html'>Well, the semester is finally over! It seems like it just flew by! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/?action=view&amp;amp;current=IMG_3188.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/IMG_3188.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, so last night, we found a cute orange kitten in our garage- he just showed up somehow, we have no idea where it came from! We called all the neighbors and no one is aware of it, so we assume it's been dumped off by someone, as evidenced by a couple naps in his fur and his dead leg! It is like broken or something, just snapped in half, except that there's no evidence of an actual break, as in there's no bone sticking out, and he doesn't act like it's painful- in fact, he uses it as a crutch as he walks! It's starting to worry me though, because at first I thought he'd adapted fine to it, but now we think eventually it will wear through to the bone or start to decay or SOMETHING gross. I must admit I'm not very educated about these things, but we are taking it to the vet soon (we are leaving for holiday in like 2 days!) but in the meantime I'm kinda concerned.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is the sweetest kitten though! It climbs up on us and licks our faces, and plays with my pony tail, and is fun to pack around b/c it's so light and agreeable! I love it already! We're trying to think of a good name, maybe like Gimpy? :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/?action=view&amp;amp;current=IMG_3161.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/IMG_3161.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See the leg, it's hard to get a photo of it in action, but it's totally dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/?action=view&amp;amp;current=IMG_3168.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/IMG_3168.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/?action=view&amp;amp;current=IMG_3174.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo143/abbyquack/IMG_3174.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cuteeee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-5549562359130449944?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/5549562359130449944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=5549562359130449944' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/5549562359130449944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/5549562359130449944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/12/meow-meow.html' title='Meow Meow!'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-2848012781675058875</id><published>2008-12-09T21:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:57:20.495-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Home Sickness?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/ST9aBrAZjMI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/Sh7B1oOUj2U/s1600-h/IMG_2115.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/ST9aBrAZjMI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/Sh7B1oOUj2U/s320/IMG_2115.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278036273072278722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Towards the Confluence, Yukon &amp;amp; Klondike Rivers, Dawson City&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/ST9YjqwUoAI/AAAAAAAAAJk/XwN7XCb5WMQ/s1600-h/IMG_1727.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/ST9YjqwUoAI/AAAAAAAAAJk/XwN7XCb5WMQ/s320/IMG_1727.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278034658097143810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Overlooking Dawson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not really, as I don't have a home, but what else to call it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;As most of you know, I have spent the past two summers living in Alaska -and part of last summer in the Yukon, but really there's little difference between the two (other than they are in different countries, lol) - both are vast, chilly and ill-populated (with humans at least). Even though I think I've enjoyed those summers, my memories of both of them seem overcast with a lot of stress - the first summer, I had packed up and moved 4,000 miles from one of the largest cities in the world (NYC), to the secluded town of Skagway with a population of 850- give or take. The second summer, I dealt with the new responsibility of not only driving a 45-foot-long motor coach, but also composing a convincing  and entertaining tour for the folks on board. Let's face it, driving and talking at the same time is not really a challenge for me, but learning all the new information and balancing the conflicts that sometimes arose along the way were tricky and certainly a bit stressful. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At the end of both summers, I wasn't sad to say good bye to Skagway, or the Yukon. I confess, I'm a city girl at heart, and I love having all the stores and conveniences of populated life at my beck and call. I'm your typical, everyday instant gratification lover- I hate waiting for packages via snail mail- and yes, I'm probably a 7 or 8(1/2) on the materialist scale. The same old food also gets old, as do the lumpy beds- they're not quite like home. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/ST9ZG3U517I/AAAAAAAAAJs/4AGNKj6xiTk/s1600-h/IMG_2056.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/ST9ZG3U517I/AAAAAAAAAJs/4AGNKj6xiTk/s320/IMG_2056.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278035262767224754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;British Columbia, between Skagway, AK and Carcross, YT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, the past couple of nights, I've dreamt of being in Alaska again. The first night, I dreamt of being on a barge, heading to Anchorage - don't know if it's possible, but so I was - and the scenery, though it was the dead of the dark winter- was gorgeous, absolutely breathtaking. Then, last night, I had a dream that Trent and I were starting the season early- once again in the middle of winter- and we were taking Vladimir Putin's family on a land tour. Yea, weird, why would we do that, when he could just swim over to Alaska himself (according to Palin at least). And the craziest thing about that dream, is even though I know nothing about Putin or what he looks like, he really does look like what I dreamt! I looked it up on &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vladimir_Putin"&gt;wikipedia&lt;/a&gt;. Creepy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's not really weird for me to dream of being there, as I've had these dreams periodically since we left in September, but it is funny how my dreams portray the winter weather and all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, although I'm quite relieved that I don't have to start touring right now in the icy winter, I am starting to yearn for the place - something that occurred about the same time last year- there's just something fascinating about Alaska being all quiet and dark and cold. I've never been there in the winter (although you'd think it was winter sometimes in July!), yet I really desire it. I just picture our hole-in-the-wall rooms in the Westie and think of them being abandoned, the wind howling outside. I really just want to spend a winter there, doing absolutely nothing but watching television and looking for the Northern Lights - and maybe a little booze to get me through it- oh wait, it will never work out for me, will it? :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm excited about going back this summer, and I feel like I appreciate Dawson City a little bit more. Even though it's really in the middle of nowhere, and they don't sell blue cheese anywhere in town (that's what happens to you when you start getting nostalgic), it's such a beautiful, peaceful place. The distance from the law and from the crowds is actually therapeutic in many ways.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-2848012781675058875?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/2848012781675058875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=2848012781675058875' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/2848012781675058875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/2848012781675058875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/12/home-sickness.html' title='Home Sickness?'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/ST9aBrAZjMI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/Sh7B1oOUj2U/s72-c/IMG_2115.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-5341069791833996866</id><published>2008-11-21T18:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T18:58:28.416-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Where have I been?</title><content type='html'>So I haven't posted in a long while. Sorry. Speaking of sorry, have you ever written in a journal or diary, "Dear Diary, sorry I haven't written in a while", as if the diary actually cares that you didn't right? :)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But actually, I've lately been working on a Beauty Blog, &lt;a href="http://www.quackspassionpit.blogspot.com"&gt;http://www.quackspassionpit.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;, where I review a lot of fun beauty products and basically just yak about MAC. I started it as a project for a class where we had to create a blog, and I decided to keep it going b/c it's fun and is something that interests me. The problem is I don't know much about promoting a blog, as you can see by the 5 visitors that visit this one! :) But I enjoy it, so feel free to visit, leave comments, etc! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-5341069791833996866?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/5341069791833996866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=5341069791833996866' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/5341069791833996866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/5341069791833996866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/11/where-have-i-been.html' title='Where have I been?'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-8501181730176806593</id><published>2008-11-06T15:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T15:18:46.574-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So Far, So Glad</title><content type='html'>I've had a couple people (mind you, I'm using this term literally) say that Palin is an intelligent woman...well, I still have yet to see it, and as this broadcast from FOX news (Fox news, people!) says that she didn't even know that Africa was a continent, among MANY other foibles! All of this was "off the record", so they couldn't talk about it 'til now, but it's just super alarming still and I am breathing a HUGE sigh of relief! Well, don't listen to me, watch the vid for yourself:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://perezhilton.com/tv/index.php?ptvid=0e165df65fc08"&gt;Fox News Video - Palin&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have a few comments about this, and I'm writing this quickly so we'll see if they come out right. First, it's kind of sad that campaign officials who were trying to make her vice president, hid these things from voters! I mean I know perhaps why, but at the same time, now they're like blaming her for losing the election and hating on her. That's really low to be saying this now that she lost. They like turned on her pretty much. I am not a Palin fan, but even I can see that that shows very little integrity of the people who backed her for the past couple months. Crazy. Why work on  a campaign if you aren't 110% behind the candidate?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't think McCain would've been the worst choice ever. Sure, he's a hot head and a lot misogynistic, but he'd still have been better than Bushie. But the running mate! For shame! She was crap. I'm so glad she gets to go back to Alaska! See you this summer, hun!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-8501181730176806593?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/8501181730176806593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=8501181730176806593' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/8501181730176806593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/8501181730176806593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/11/so-far-so-glad.html' title='So Far, So Glad'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-461981518259126298</id><published>2008-11-05T11:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T11:43:06.500-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Totally Random Thoughts re: Election</title><content type='html'>Well, I don't need to sit here and gloat about Obama slaughtering McCain, as that is evident on every news site, blog and facebook status around. But, I am very grateful that I can once again be confident in America. I love winning. :) Of course my rejoicing was dampened when Prop 8 was passed. The good news is, there's always another chance, and as the older generations disappear, the hope will increase. Today, Trent, me and a friend visiting from out-of-state were eating in the Cougareat talking about this subject that is close to all of our hearts, and as we were discussing the situation, some kid sat down next to us and made some comments about Prop 8 that were really ambiguous, so we couldn't really tell if he was a "yes" or "no" man. Well, turns out that he is a BYU student that is a "no on prop 8" kind, and it was just awesome to talk to someone on campus who actually felt the same way as us. We had a great discussion and learned that much of his support for equal rights stems from having a gay family member. I was really encouraged talking to him, to know that the fight is not over yet. As with any great changes in history, they are hardly earned without a fight. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now on a somewhat related subject, I just read some Mormon Republican lady's blog, and the title was "How much are tickets to France?" because according to the entry, she wants to move away to France since Obama was elected. Which is really funny, because as my last entry indicates, the 'pubes are the ones that hated France just a couple years ago because they wouldn't do that whole Iraq War thing. So, what she's saying is, she, a pube, wants to go to France, a country that is way more liberal than the U.S. and is also like 10% Muslim (which is what they're all afraid of Obama being, right?), yet she thinks it's going to be better there? Oh My. I'm sure they'd welcome her with open arms, considering she probably participated in "boycott France" a couple years ago. Believe you me, France doesn't want American 'pubes any more than Vermont would. Love it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-461981518259126298?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/461981518259126298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=461981518259126298' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/461981518259126298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/461981518259126298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/11/totally-random-thoughts-re-election.html' title='Totally Random Thoughts re: Election'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-7074320687443473159</id><published>2008-10-28T18:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T18:53:16.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Election 2008: The World Weighs In</title><content type='html'>The Guardian (a UK post) recently published &lt;a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2008/oct/17/uselections2008-barackobama1"&gt;this survey&lt;/a&gt; of various countries throughout the world. If the people of these respective countries were to vote in OUR election, who would win? Well, the &lt;a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2008/oct/17/uselections2008-barackobama1"&gt;article&lt;/a&gt; tells you the answer, so go ahead and read it yourself. It's pretty interesting. The article continues on about how the information was collected, so you may want to consider that as well in respect of the findings.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, I've seen a couple other similar surveys with pretty much the same findings, so it wasn't really the big question of WHO they'd vote for that surprised me, but some of the answers to other questions asked, such as:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;How would you describe the actual relations between your country and the USA?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;% of from each country reporting relations are positive:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Canada: 43%&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;France: 38%&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Switzerland: 20%&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Poland: 43%&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Japan: 16%&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mexico: 23%&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Great Britain: 49%&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;% of from each country reporting relations are neutral or tense: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Canada: 43%&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;France: 64%&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Switzerland: 73%&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Poland: 53%&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Japan: 81%&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mexico: 71%&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Great Britain: 48% &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thoughts?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I first am surprised that Japan hates us so much! haha. I mean I always figured they loved Americans, which I think they DO like our pop culture, but maybe not so much our methods politically? Japanese people are smart folks! They go to school for like 20 hrs a day, 6 days a week! So listen up to them! :) Maybe they are mad about those nasty bombs we dropped...I would be too! They were unnecessary...I digress.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am equally pleased that GB doesn't hate us terribly. In fact, I think they have one of the more positive outlooks on us, but still, consider that 49% favoring us isn't AMAZING either. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, I hope we can take from this that we have some foreign relations to work on. This is one of the most important things for me in the next 4 years, because I truly believe we've been a little arrogant over the past few years. Example: As soon as the Iraq War was announced, there was quite a bit of backlash from the French. The citizens disagreed with our decision, and the government wanted no part in the war. Well, what did middle-Americans do? They started boycotting French goods, such as champagne, and called the French all sorts of sissy names, accusing them of being wooses, simply because they didn't want to get involved in the debacle that most Americans now feel was problematic. No offense, but the French have seen their fair share of the devastation war; WWII took part on their very own soil. I don't think it's a mistake to shy away from war if you've experienced it that closely. Surely we did too, but not as Europe did. Anyways, my point is, there is going to come a day in which we can't do this on our own anymore. We're going to be strapped, and desperate for the assistance of allies, but it may not arrive if we haven't taken care to secure good relations.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just saying! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-7074320687443473159?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/7074320687443473159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=7074320687443473159' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7074320687443473159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7074320687443473159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/10/election-2008-world-weighs-in.html' title='Election 2008: The World Weighs In'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-3503765681266888194</id><published>2008-10-20T18:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T18:37:19.555-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beauty Shop Robbery's A Drag</title><content type='html'>Read this story and then follow: &lt;a href="http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,439282,00.html"&gt;Beauty Shop Robbery's A Drag&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We all have weird families, but not everyone can say that the man in that article reminds them of their great-Oncle Hans. In 1999, when my grandmother passed away, Hans came calling, and as sad as he was about my grandma's passing, I think he might have been calling for more important reasons. He first noticed my ravishing older sister, Jenn, who at the time was only about 20, and took great interest in getting to know her (I'm sure she wasn't so interested, but ya never know!).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hans then inquired about perhaps borrowing one of my grandma's wigs, since she obviously didn't need them anymore. My mom asked Hans why he wanted a wig, and he replied that he wanted to dress up as a woman to his favorite eating establishment, Chuck-O-Rama, because the last time he had gone there, the waitress wasn't so fond of him hitting on her, so he got banned from eating there period. He already had the dress from his long-ago-deceased wife, but evidently needed a hairpiece to complete the ensemble.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, he didn't get to borrow the wig, but I have no doubts that he managed to put something creative together for himself. Hans is definitely colorful, and there are many stories about his escapades, but very few match the cross-dressing-to-go-to-Chuck-o-Rama story...EXCEPT....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last year, my Oncle Pete was in the grocery store, when he ran into one of Hans' daughters. Being that that side of my family is from Germany, the woman didn't speak very good English, but they stumbled through an update from each others' lives. Pete asked how Hans was doing, and she responded that he had died a few months ago. Well, of course, this offended half the family, as no one had been invited to the funeral or even notified that he'd died. So most of the family were convinced they would not talk to that part of the family ever again for not even giving the courtesy of telling us of Hans' death. Everyone was sad, and we thought fondly of the memory of Hans's cross-dressing extravaganza.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few months go by, and one day, my Tante Rita (Oncle Pete's wife) gets a phone call, and on the other side of the phone is Hans. She's like "Hans? What the crap?" And he carries on for some time about something or other totally unrelated to anything, asking to borrow something or I dunno. haha. Well, she was no doubt tempted to ask him "Why aren't you dead?", but opted instead to call another one of his daughters and ask what the deal was. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Apparently, the daughter who told Pete that Hans had died, was confused in the conversation and thought he meant someone entirely different who had indeed died.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Families rock. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-3503765681266888194?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/3503765681266888194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=3503765681266888194' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/3503765681266888194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/3503765681266888194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/10/beauty-shop-robberys-drag.html' title='Beauty Shop Robbery&apos;s A Drag'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-1812830327890322583</id><published>2008-10-16T10:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T13:47:54.036-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heat of the Moment</title><content type='html'>I just overheard a conversation between some STUDENTS AT BYU about Prop 8, and here's what one suggested: "We should make a state for all the gay people to go to and they can just be isolated there...blah blah blah...and then we should nuke it". &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Students at an institution of higher education for one, but people that believe in being Christ-like? Just another example of how people all too often lose sight of what their religion is even about. Instead of loving everyone (despite their imperfections), it's all about maintaining some rigid, insensible law of sterility.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess we forgot that the law once had an extermination order for Mormons and that didn't make any of our ancestors feel to good, to the point where we still cry about the mistreatment today. The fact that the students with this one laughed and agreed that this should occur is not even surprising at this school. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;AFTER-I-COOLED-DOWN-EDIT: I should just clarify that this is not aimed towards ALL BYU students, as I know that a good percentage of them would never make such a hurtful, pathetic statement. However, I do feel that this feeling is all-too prevalent at "The Lord's Institution", and that of all places, it should not be tolerated here. Conservativism (sp?) does not mean you have to be bigoted, right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All said, I am still annoyed that that conversation even took place. Even if it was meant in jest, would you ever make a joke like that if you liked a group of people? If you said that about Asians, would you just turn around and say "it was a joke, I really like Asians"...No, why would you ever say that in the first place? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;BYU students need to be aware of who is listening, and how their ignorant statements can really hurt people. What if someone who had a family member that was gay, was listening? Or a gay person him/herself? We are at BYU but that doesn't mean people don't deal with this issue on  a daily basis.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-1812830327890322583?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/1812830327890322583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=1812830327890322583' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1812830327890322583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1812830327890322583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/10/heat-of-moment.html' title='Heat of the Moment'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-7503877314455339721</id><published>2008-10-15T10:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T10:16:03.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Get out there and Shop!</title><content type='html'>So apparently, &lt;a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/27194806/"&gt;retail sales dropped 1.2% in September&lt;/a&gt;, which doesn't seem that much, but it's the biggest drop in 3 years! :( Now, I encourage everyone to go out there and do your economy some justice by going shopping! I cannot deny that I love to shop (as long as it doesn't involve Cabela's), and quite frankly would be pleased to help out our economy. Unfortunately there's this thing called Money, and I have none. This reminds me of when the government gave us money last spring to help the economy. It is no secret that I did indeed spend mine, but I have to wonder what good it did since here we are, worse-off than before. I'm not going to complain if the gov't wants to give me free money (after all they gave wall street $700billion, so that should mean I deserve at least $10,000), but I have to laugh that just like everyone predicted, that extra tax money didn't do anything. Except allow me to shop! &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-7503877314455339721?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/7503877314455339721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=7503877314455339721' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7503877314455339721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7503877314455339721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/10/get-out-there-and-shop.html' title='Get out there and Shop!'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-6457203205520668393</id><published>2008-10-13T14:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T14:57:28.529-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gay Rights</title><content type='html'>Ok so as long as I can remember, my conscience has always told me that gay people weren't quite as "evil" as people often make them out to be, and that they deserve equal rights. This has been pretty difficult to reconcile with my religion, one that believes that being gay is a sin. Over the years I have maintained that even though the church will never feel the way I do, I still feel that gay people should still have equal rights, since we our government does, after all, believe in this idea of "separation of church and state" - particularly if they are born this way (and a BYU professor recently held a symposium that proved this is mostly the case). &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The other night, I felt really overcome because I was thinking about how I never had any gay friends growing up, neither any close gay relatives, and even though now I have a few gay friends, they never influenced my opinion on the matter, but even still, I've always felt strongly about this issue. It's weird, why do I care so much? I believe that there is a reason why I am supposed to be an advocate for equal rights, just as I feel, if I had been born in any other era, I would have fought women's rights, black rights, etc. I don't know what my purpose is, but I know there is one, and if nothing else, I know I shouldn't be quiet about this issue. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But going back to religion, now the LDS church (my church) is spending millions of tithe-payer dollars to fight gay marriage in California, even though really the only big difference between civil unions (which they're o.k. with according to their official site, &lt;a href="http://preservingmarriage.org"&gt;preservingmarriage.org&lt;/a&gt;) and marriage, is the term "marriage". Now it may also be mentioned that the church's policy is generally not to get involved in politics ("we do not believe it just to mingle religious influence with civil government..." d&amp;amp;c 134:9) , and so I am like, well why now, why this matter? I may also add that in many countries like England, the government doesn't even deal with marriage, they just deal with civil unions, then you go to the temple and get your marriage (see &lt;a href="http://www.mormonsformarriage.com"&gt;mormonsformarriage.com&lt;/a&gt;) so, the government civil union doesn't even affect the religious marriage. They are entirely different. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, I must say this is hurtful, especially to see the church that I love so much, fight against another thing I am very passionate about. I cannot tell my conscience how to feel, and I doubt I would ever forgive myself if I tried to change my conscience. But, if I don't agree with the church's opinion, or if I say, fight against Prop 8, then I am participating in activities that are  against the church's teachings, which is wrong. But how can I not when the church is now going to make a name for itself in the world where if I talk to my friends that are gay, they will say "you belong to that church that wants me to be a second-class citizen, that I am not worthy of marriage because of how I was born". I mean, take a tiger and try to say it can't have stripes- impossible right? Well, one would reply, it's because he's born that way- well, gay people are born a way too, and just b/c it's not a part of your skin, doesn't mean it can be changed. Or tell a straight person they have to be gay- wouldn't work, I can't be gay, so why expect a gay person to be straight?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ANYWAYS, I just feel weird about the whole thing, but the one thing that has brought me a little comfort is knowing that I need to put my pride aside and say that God knows all things, he knows why this is happening, he knows it all. "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways" (Isaiah 55:8). For me to think that I could understand God's way, would be to say that I am on the same level of a God, and let's be honest, that would be straight up blasphemous. So, I don't know why this is happening, but I need to have faith that it will all work out. I haven't stopped hoping that Prop 8 will fail, but I couldn't do that even if I tried and lied to myself- because God would still know my thoughts. When I see all these celebrities contributing to the No on Prop 8 campaign, I feel excited deep down. I can't help it, and somehow I don't think God will blame me for wanting equal rights for all, especially on an issue about love. But, I concede that I cannot criticize my leaders, because they probably don't want to be in this tough spot either -they probably don't want to be criticized by others for these efforts, but it is for a purpose that I don't know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope his makes sense.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-6457203205520668393?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/6457203205520668393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=6457203205520668393' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/6457203205520668393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/6457203205520668393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/10/gay-rights.html' title='Gay Rights'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-7052971014164041908</id><published>2008-09-30T18:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T18:47:43.609-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I had a photo to attach, but it wouldn't load so all you get is text!</title><content type='html'>Is it just me or is it more challenging to log in to this blog program than it needs to be? I tried every password in the book (even my usual 123456789 - haha jk but you can try it on my email acct if you like!), and none of them are ever right! Anyways I think that's what prevents me from posting...not to mention wanting to talk about something OTHER than politics and school.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But on the subject of the latter, I have been kind of antsy lately to graduate and get grounded in a "stable" job. I have held a LOT of different jobs in my life: French Teacher, Farm Laborer (ok only for like 2 days in HS!), High-End Jewelry, Data Entry, Banking, Hotels, Rep for Mortgage Co., Retail, Driver (!)/Guide, Vending, Janitorial (!!!), Restaurants, Interactive Marketing, Public Relations- oh man, you name the field, I've probably done something in it. I've even worked for companies where I had no idea what they even did! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And after all this, I'd like to hold the same job for at least a year, and not have to move. I'd like to make the money I made in Alaska this summer, without having to go to Alaska. Yet I know that with my husband's graduation looming shortly after my own, we will pick up and move somewhere before I can put much into a "stable" job.  So of course, I'm a little apprehensive about even bothering til we get him into an MBA program. Well, at least if the smart cookie does go to Business School as planned, we may end up in the 2nd love of my life, NYC! Where jobs are paid way better than here, even with the high price of living. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ANYWAYS, you may be wondering why I'm moaning and complaining? Or is that all this is? :) Well, I realized today, that I'm not the only person who ever feels this way about their situation in life. I read someone else's blog today where they said they can't wait til so-and-so is done w/ such-and-such so that they can have a "'normal' life". I think we all are wishing so badly for that greener grass, for that next segment of our lives, that we fail to relax and enjoy today. Before we know it, all those times in our life are going to be distant memories, and we'll be complaining about the current imperfections with our situations. I don't think life or our places there in  will ever be perfect, and if it was, how boring would that be? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I'm deciding, right now, to appreciate the point I'm in right now: I'm going to my LAST semester of school, not working (for once!!), I have 4-day weekends (and 5 days off!), and I am financially suited, with a generous allowance for things I want each month. I know I will not enjoy this forever - in fact, I'm sure there's someone thinking, "just wait til you have kids" (2018 will be a memorable year for me), or "you will be working for the rest of your life, so enjoy it now" - well, since I know this isn't going to last forever, I AM going to enjoy it now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I think everyone should enjoy their life now, and whatever path they've chosen for themselves, it won't be any good if each day isn't appreciated for what we have. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok well, off my soap box and onto homework! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-7052971014164041908?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/7052971014164041908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=7052971014164041908' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7052971014164041908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7052971014164041908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-had-photo-to-attach-but-it-wouldnt.html' title='I had a photo to attach, but it wouldn&apos;t load so all you get is text!'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-1413699788207404563</id><published>2008-08-08T21:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:02:58.294-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yukon</title><content type='html'>Working as a driver on the Klondike Highway, we go many miles between towns, thus without seeing signs of civilization. It's an amazing feeling, living in an area such as this one, so far removed from huge populations as most places we've lived. There's also however, a scary thought that accompanies this awe, a thought that, I believe, most locals have to accept: if anything goes wrong, there most likely will not be anyone to save you. This thought was drilled in pretty well this week when a road worker who had a heart attack in the middle of the Klondike Highway was discovered eventually by a traveler, who then attempted the task of resuscitation only to find the efforts were in vain; the man died. In the middle of nowhere. There was no one there to save him. As tragic as this was, I couldn't help but wonder if the people who accept these positions know that these kinds of situations are possibly around each and every corner. The closest town may be an hour away, but that does not mean they medical staff that can assist. Therefore, rescue may then be sent from 200 miles away. But by the time they reach the problem, it's most likely too late. Even an airplane cannot be dispatched quickly enough. So, I think it's interesting that in more populated areas of the world, people are so heavily reliant on doctors and hospitals- even just the thought of knowing there is a hospital within a few miles provides much needed comfort. But in the Yukon, you don't have time to get to a doctor or hope that someone will find you and save you. If you don't try and save yourself, there's little chance that anyone else will help you any better. It is this acceptance one living here must have, that nature is larger than us. We must surrender to this fact, and realize that although we are powerful, there is none more powerful than Mother Nature. She does not care that you just spent your life savings on this trip to Alaska and the Yukon - it will rain anyways. If you are hiking the Chilkoot Pass, she will not stop the snow from falling in mid-June. Accepting that there's no conquering her is really all we can do in life, particularly for those living in harsh climates of the world. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-1413699788207404563?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/1413699788207404563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=1413699788207404563' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1413699788207404563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1413699788207404563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/08/yukon.html' title='Yukon'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-4372922888211880100</id><published>2008-07-05T19:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T19:24:46.738-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Falling in Love with Music...Again</title><content type='html'>All thanks to Skull Candy headphones. They make even Jonas Brothers and Miley Cyrus sound good! I am in love! Oh and in love with my husband for the early birthday gift! &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-4372922888211880100?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/4372922888211880100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=4372922888211880100' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/4372922888211880100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/4372922888211880100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/07/falling-in-love-with-musicagain.html' title='Falling in Love with Music...Again'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-4055767947029737767</id><published>2008-06-24T18:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T20:13:49.817-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/SGGjGu7AxoI/AAAAAAAAACw/JlbTZHGJ1ew/s1600-h/IMG_1710.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/SGGjGu7AxoI/AAAAAAAAACw/JlbTZHGJ1ew/s320/IMG_1710.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215629179541833346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok it's been forever and a day since I last posted, but that's what happens when you're driving a bus 60 hrs a week and live in the middle of nowhere, a place where the internet is hardly available. But here I am, 2 months into, a.k.a. half-way through this hectic summer. And somehow, not quite half way towards my financial goal! But I'm having fun, an adventure to say the least. I want to post some photos of my journeys, but before I do that, allow me to explain where I am and what I'm doing.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I work for Holland America Line, but for their Cruise Tours portion. This means, instead of a 14-day cruise, people opt to explore the interior of Alaska/Yukon via motorcoach for 10 days and then a 3 or 4 day cruise. I drive the route between Skagway, AK and Dawson, YT - about 500 miles. Well, &lt;a href="http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.dawsonbb.com/Graphics/GIF/YukonMap.gif&amp;amp;imgrefurl=http://www.dawsonbb.com/YukonMap.html&amp;amp;h=889&amp;amp;w=668&amp;amp;sz=242&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;start=8&amp;amp;um=1&amp;amp;tbnid=jxjUVJJioEhoZM:&amp;amp;tbnh=146&amp;amp;tbnw=110&amp;amp;prev=/images%3Fq%3Dmap%2Byukon%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dsafari%26rls%3Den%26sa%3DN"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;'s a map so you can see- Skagway is down south, I drive to Carcross, pick up passengers, take them to Whitehorse. Then the next day I take them from Whitehorse to Dawson. When I get to Dawson, I usually drive a tour the next day in &lt;a href="http://travelyukon.com/aboutyukonterritory/yukonwildernessparks/tombstoneterritorialpark/"&gt;Tombstone Territorial Park&lt;/a&gt; which is on the Dempster Hwy (the road to the Arctic Circle), and pretty much the scariest road I've ever driven on before. Picture an 18-wheeler going  50 mph coming straight at you on a 1.5 lane road. One driver's windshield got hit by a golf ball size rock, and it ended up in his lap, along with a bunch of glass. Come to think of it, I think I almost died today while there. A story for another day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok I'll tell it now. I came around a curb and saw 2 18-wheelers heading my way. The first saw me and clearly tried to slow down, as did I, but it was too close and I just felt the hairs stand up on the back of my neck as this truck whizzed past me, shaking my coach. The mirrors were maybe 2 inches apart, and the guide on my bus almost peed her pants. She spent the next 10 minutes praising me for a job well done, but what she really was meant was "thank you god for sparing us". Somehow no one else noticed! Oh well... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In essence, I am very far north, in the middle of nowhere. The Yukon is the size of California with 1% of Cali's population. It's a weird place and I always trip out when I think about how desolate, yet how interesting this land is. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok, enough yakking, I will try to load photos within the next day. The one above is just a gratuitous shot of Trent being molested by stuffed toys. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-4055767947029737767?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/4055767947029737767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=4055767947029737767' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/4055767947029737767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/4055767947029737767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/06/ok-its-been-forever-and-day-since-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/SGGjGu7AxoI/AAAAAAAAACw/JlbTZHGJ1ew/s72-c/IMG_1710.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-2322814352027859422</id><published>2008-05-10T21:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-10T21:38:40.961-07:00</updated><title type='text'>yoo hoo!</title><content type='html'>so i am in alaska/yukon territory for the summer. it's super exciting, and there's so much going on up here! i have worked 12 hr days since wednesday. yea. also internet is totally at a premium up here, so i can't blog as freely as i would like. so i might have to take a semi-hiatus for the summer, but i will try to check in as often as possible! &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-2322814352027859422?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/2322814352027859422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=2322814352027859422' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/2322814352027859422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/2322814352027859422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/05/yoo-hoo.html' title='yoo hoo!'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-1189190805898242791</id><published>2008-04-24T23:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T20:13:50.194-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sadness!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/SBF6h_0QBCI/AAAAAAAAACo/O-e41_YekMo/s1600-h/Priestballoons_468x319.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/SBF6h_0QBCI/AAAAAAAAACo/O-e41_YekMo/s320/Priestballoons_468x319.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193066569819751458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;According to &lt;a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/live/articles/news/worldnews.html?in_article_id=561266&amp;amp;in_page_id=1811"&gt;this article&lt;/a&gt;, some Brazilian priest went missing after trying to break the record for flying with the most helium balloons! This is all that's left of his effort! He's MIA, folks! He is thought to have floated 30 miles off course or something. Well, read the article, it gives more accurate details than me! Seriously, this is so sad! He looks so happy in the other photos as he's being lifted off! Now, why would someone do something this idiotic in the first place? Beats me! But am I the only one who feels a little bad looking at that photo? Bad, because you're half laughing half crying at this image? Yes, I feel bad that I laughed a little. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PS- Here are some of my favorite comments from The Daily Mail's readers: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; "&gt;Well what a stupid thing to do, of course he's lost! No way of steering balloons is there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- Anon, East Sussex&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "&gt;So this is how the Ascension was accomplished. I must admit it was always a mystery to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- Thomas, Saltdean&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "&gt;What I am bothered about is the innocent seabirds and other marine life who will die a horrible death after eating the deflated balloons when they fall into the sea. Many, many animals, including dolphins, die each year due to balloons being released and them drifting over the sea- the deflated or burst balloons are often found in their stomachs during autopsy. All this to amuse one man and for him to feel macho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- David, Newcastle&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "&gt;Catholic priests are not allowed to carry out stunts like this. Perhaps he will go to hell for this suicide attempt. He is clearly deranged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- Aran, London&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-1189190805898242791?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/1189190805898242791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=1189190805898242791' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1189190805898242791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1189190805898242791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/04/sadness.html' title='Sadness!'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/SBF6h_0QBCI/AAAAAAAAACo/O-e41_YekMo/s72-c/Priestballoons_468x319.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-6201626611309280163</id><published>2008-04-21T15:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T15:51:43.414-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Abortion Girl"'s Little Project is Banned!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Verdana; font-size: 12px; "&gt;&lt;p style="padding-left: 12px; "&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Yale University&lt;/strong&gt; officials say they &lt;a href="http://www.yaledailynews.com/articles/view/24579" target="_blank" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 102); text-decoration: none; "&gt;will not&lt;/a&gt; allow &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://perezhilton.com/2008-04-18-she-attempts-to-explain-herself" target="_blank" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 102); text-decoration: none; "&gt;Abortion Girl&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; to show her senior 'art' project at its scheduled opening on Tuesday unless she admits in writing that she's a fake.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="padding-left: 12px; "&gt;School of Art Dean Robert Storr said, "Yale does not encourage or condone projects that would involve unknown health risks to the student. Nor does it believe that open discourse and inquiry can exist in an educational and creative community when an individual exercises these rights but evades full intellectual accountability for the strong response he or she may provoke.”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="padding-left: 12px; "&gt;Abortion Girl has not responded to the University's latest 'ban' statement.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="padding-left: 12px; "&gt;As of Friday, she was claiming that nothing was faked — she DID artificially impregnate herself and induce abortions.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="padding-left: 12px; "&gt;Abortion Girl said last week that if the University refuses to exhibit her piece, she'll show it elsewhere.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="padding-left: 12px; "&gt;Yale also announced that two faculty members have been disciplined for allowing Abortion Girl to move forward with her project."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="padding-left: 12px; "&gt;Perezhilton.com&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="padding-left: 12px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="padding-left: 12px; "&gt;THANK GOODNESS!! She's an idiot. Oh and there's a vid of her on you tube that makes her look even more of an idiot. just thought you might like to know. : )&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-6201626611309280163?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/6201626611309280163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=6201626611309280163' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/6201626611309280163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/6201626611309280163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/04/abortion-girls-little-project-is-banned.html' title='&quot;Abortion Girl&quot;&apos;s Little Project is Banned!'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-7725963993754085202</id><published>2008-04-17T13:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T13:56:27.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So Disturbing...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;According to the &lt;a href="http://yaledailynews.com/story.html"&gt;Yale Daily News&lt;/a&gt; , this freak of an art major named Aliza Shvarts' idea of a senior art project was to artificially inseminate herself and then use herbal "abortifaciant" medications to induce miscarriages. She allegedly did this for a period of 9 months, recording these abortions, and will be displaying not only the videos of the miscarriages, but the blood will be displayed as well. Am I the only one who gets chills even reading about this? So wrong and evil!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, the plot thickens, as &lt;a href="http://newsbusters.org/blogs/warner-todd-huston/2008/04/17/yale-students-abortion-art-claim-scam"&gt;THIS &lt;/a&gt;article from Newsbusters.org calls the entire scheme a hoax, claiming this girl is pulling the wool over the eyes of not only the public, her school's newspaper, but her professors as well! The author insists that miscarriages are not only physically painful, but emotionally painful, and the "abortifaciants" that she is using are extremely detrimental to a woman's health, especially considering she did not once consult a doctor. First, I really hope that this really is a hoax, because to repeatedly kill feti (fetuses?) for some stupid art project is not only disgusting, but completely degenerative. I am no right winger, but this is unacceptable behavior from anyone. I don't know how you could be proud and totally desensitized to even make up a project like this. Whether it is fake or real, it's so so sick.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Moreover, it's really sad that students have to resort to this kind of sensationalism to get their name out there. She's probably hoping that she will be canonized for this stunt, and sadly, she probably will be. There's so much competition in these schools for students to stand out that she has to scream "freak" like this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eww.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-7725963993754085202?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/7725963993754085202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=7725963993754085202' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7725963993754085202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/7725963993754085202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/04/so-disturbing.html' title='So Disturbing...'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-291164121919235095</id><published>2008-04-16T22:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T22:30:57.208-07:00</updated><title type='text'>utahfashion.blogspot.com</title><content type='html'>In addition to liking to hear myself write, I have created the &lt;a href="http://utahfashion.blogspot.com"&gt;Utah Fashion Blog&lt;/a&gt; for those Utahns or otherwise-challenged folks to get a look into the outside world. Now, I can't really say I am the expert at fashion (I mean look at the socks I wear- white cherry socks with loafers? ), but I do think Utahns need some help some of the time in this department, and somehow I think I am able to do so. Again, I don't know how qualified I am for the job, but I'd like to believe that I nonetheless offer some pretty useful tips on occasion. So go ahead and check it out &lt;a href="http://utahfashion.blogspot.com"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt; and don't be shy, please comment on things. Oh and hey, anonymous guy, I don't think I've disabled anon comments on that blog, so go ahead and leave all the creepy comments you'd like! &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-291164121919235095?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/291164121919235095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=291164121919235095' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/291164121919235095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/291164121919235095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/04/utahfashionblogspotcom.html' title='utahfashion.blogspot.com'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-1710691125182444874</id><published>2008-04-15T19:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T20:13:50.477-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Corny = Cute</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/SAVpcPk4nNI/AAAAAAAAACg/JkNvKZvm918/s1600-h/first_dog_designated_driver.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/SAVpcPk4nNI/AAAAAAAAACg/JkNvKZvm918/s320/first_dog_designated_driver.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189670079552855250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-1710691125182444874?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/1710691125182444874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=1710691125182444874' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1710691125182444874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1710691125182444874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/04/corny-cute.html' title='Corny = Cute'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/SAVpcPk4nNI/AAAAAAAAACg/JkNvKZvm918/s72-c/first_dog_designated_driver.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-2207717797168264806</id><published>2008-04-15T19:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T20:13:51.146-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Madeleine Elisabet Clark Chappell 8 lbs 14 oz.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/SAVkvPk4nII/AAAAAAAAAB4/D4PBncZcvME/s1600-h/Madeleine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/SAVkvPk4nII/AAAAAAAAAB4/D4PBncZcvME/s320/Madeleine.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189664908412230786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/SAVkxPk4nJI/AAAAAAAAACA/kdjvXJKNNAU/s1600-h/Madeleine1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/SAVkxPk4nJI/AAAAAAAAACA/kdjvXJKNNAU/s320/Madeleine1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189664942771969170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/SAVkx_k4nKI/AAAAAAAAACI/RNS55dyiI1s/s1600-h/madeleine2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/SAVkx_k4nKI/AAAAAAAAACI/RNS55dyiI1s/s320/madeleine2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189664955656871074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/SAVkyfk4nLI/AAAAAAAAACQ/eZV3QbU-fWg/s1600-h/madeleine3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/SAVkyfk4nLI/AAAAAAAAACQ/eZV3QbU-fWg/s320/madeleine3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189664964246805682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/SAVkyvk4nMI/AAAAAAAAACY/t_RRRieTCko/s1600-h/madeleine4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/SAVkyvk4nMI/AAAAAAAAACY/t_RRRieTCko/s320/madeleine4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189664968541772994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Cutest baby in the world! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-2207717797168264806?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/2207717797168264806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=2207717797168264806' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/2207717797168264806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/2207717797168264806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/04/madeleine-elisabet-clark-chappell-8-lbs.html' title='Madeleine Elisabet Clark Chappell 8 lbs 14 oz.'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/SAVkvPk4nII/AAAAAAAAAB4/D4PBncZcvME/s72-c/Madeleine.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-4046524405423786623</id><published>2008-04-10T16:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T20:13:51.330-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Aunt Abby</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/R_6kvzBt9DI/AAAAAAAAABw/jh_3v5j9ib0/s1600-h/benny%27sbaby.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/R_6kvzBt9DI/AAAAAAAAABw/jh_3v5j9ib0/s320/benny%27sbaby.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187764961835611186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am officially an aunt! Of what I don't know. Well I believe it is a girl. But I don't even know its name! The mother is sleeping right now, I will just call it Doreen.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seriously though, this feeling for this little thing is about as close as I will ever be to having my own child, which I will probably never do (never=5 years). It is just melting my heart away! There is something quite spell-binding about this little tyke! I love it! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-4046524405423786623?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/4046524405423786623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=4046524405423786623' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/4046524405423786623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/4046524405423786623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/04/aunt-abby.html' title='Aunt Abby'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/R_6kvzBt9DI/AAAAAAAAABw/jh_3v5j9ib0/s72-c/benny%27sbaby.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-8958850305010409571</id><published>2008-04-08T18:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T18:47:01.999-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='..'/><title type='text'>Am I the only one...</title><content type='html'>...who thinks this blogspot isn't very user friendly? I think it so confusing! How do I make a cute customized blog? I can't even figure out how to post other blog links on the side! I must be computer illiterate. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-8958850305010409571?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/8958850305010409571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=8958850305010409571' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/8958850305010409571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/8958850305010409571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/04/am-i-only-one.html' title='Am I the only one...'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-3143276584262761068</id><published>2008-04-07T20:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T21:00:03.855-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Whistler, American</title><content type='html'>You also, our first great&lt;div&gt;Had tried all ways;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tested and pried and worked in many fashions,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And this much gives me heart to play the game.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is a part that's slight, and part gone wrong,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And much of little moment, and some few&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Perfect as Durer!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"In the Studio" and these two portraits, if I had my choice!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And then these sketches in the mood of Greece?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You had your sketches, your uncertainties,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And this is good to know- for us, I mean,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Who bear the brunt of our America&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And try to wrench her impulse into art.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You were not always sure, not always set&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To hiding night or tuning "symphonies";&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Had not one style from birth, but tried and pried&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And stretched and tampered with the media.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You and Abe Lincoln from that mass of dolts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Show us there's chance at least of winning through.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E. Pound, 1912&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-3143276584262761068?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/3143276584262761068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=3143276584262761068' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/3143276584262761068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/3143276584262761068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/04/to-whistler-american.html' title='To Whistler, American'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-5773959760025684454</id><published>2008-04-07T20:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T20:13:51.605-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Living</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/R_rpZ7KDNeI/AAAAAAAAABo/nu_XyMHdirY/s1600-h/climbing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/R_rpZ7KDNeI/AAAAAAAAABo/nu_XyMHdirY/s320/climbing.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186714552456394210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this weekend in Moab, we got to go rock climbing. I am a pro when it comes to the local indoor gym but I have to admit, this was my first time ever climbing outdoors. We chose a cool spot where top roping was possible (no lead climbing because even though i'm certified it still scares the crap out of me! top roping for life!), and we started climbing. The slickrock makes things a little more challenging because there is practically nothing to grab on to. But those few holds are miracles! They're so amazing! And when you get to the top, nothing feels better, even though looking down can be scary! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways I've just realized how fulfilling my life is right now. I didn't grow up in a very outdoorsy family, or shall I say it never went far beyond bikes and english style horse riding (which i love, don't get me wrong!). But we didn't often camp and get dirty like my granola husband has gotten me to do. Again, I will say that I feel I had a lot of great opportunities in my childhood, but now I'm getting even more opportunities and it's really quite rewarding. It's weird how when I was single, I didn't ever want to get married because if I did, my life would be over. But lucky me, I got into the right marriage, because it feels like my life has just begun! And, as sad as it is true, I love The North Face! I'm such a hottie in my jackets, what can I say? I even have tent slippers to match. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm just really enjoying being introduced to these new opportunities. Without divulging too much information, I think I know a little more about the world than my generally naive disposition allows people to believe. But I find solace in the bright outlook ahead. Yea yea I know I'm corny. But yea, climbing is wonderful. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-5773959760025684454?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/5773959760025684454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=5773959760025684454' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/5773959760025684454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/5773959760025684454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/04/living.html' title='Living'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/R_rpZ7KDNeI/AAAAAAAAABo/nu_XyMHdirY/s72-c/climbing.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-1483970708042501678</id><published>2008-04-07T19:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T19:44:32.707-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Support the GLBTS community!</title><content type='html'>For the slow minded, i mean Gay Lesbian Bisexual Transgender and Straight community! I figure, why let the GLBT have all the fun? We should all be members of the same community, one that doesn't care what you do in your bedroom, just that you are an equal human being!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Recently there has been this "pregnant man" in the news. I don't think there is a single person in this world who can look at that as normal, completely unsurprised by that image. However, once I took a good look at their lives, and the struggles they have been through to have that child, my heart was softened. I immediately began to worry about the safety of this couple. I can't imagine the horrible insults and persecution they will receive, and the fact that six doctors refused to treat this human being in need of medical care. There is also a baby that needs medical care, one whose life could depend on that care. Yet they refused to treat the man because it was something no one had seen before.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know the situation of this couple, I don't feel it's my place or anyone else's to judge. But I do realize that this poor human being will go the rest of his life being ostracized, rejected and discriminated against simply because he is who he is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In this culture where emulating Christ is our belief, we don't always do a good job. I recall when a group for gay advocacy came to BYU a couple years ago, they were received with biting comments and name-calling. People fought and debated with them, telling them they were sinners and horrible people. Your religion doesn't have to accept gays as doctrine, but it should be the first place these people can run for comfort and support. Christ would have loved them, even if they were engaged in a sexually active relationship. He would not stone them, he would not reject them. They would be loved unconditionally.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A relative of mine has recently converted from mormonism to another religion. Initially, the family had a hard time accepting this. The thing is, they asked, how can we be a family when he/she won't be there in the eternity? Parents confront this reality all the time. A child does not live consistently with the general beliefs of the family. What becomes of them then? Frankly, I don't think a single one of us has the power or right to say they won't be there with us in the eternities. We don't know what God knows about these situations. So stop worrying to death about it and start loving others! Stop excluding one another. Join together as one community.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I only raise this topic because there has never been a day in my life where I could truly reconcile myself with the idea that gay people were not equal to straight people. I still can't live with the thoughts of people being persecuted and abused simply because of their sexual orientation. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-1483970708042501678?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/1483970708042501678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=1483970708042501678' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1483970708042501678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/1483970708042501678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/04/support-glbts-community.html' title='Support the GLBTS community!'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128862070740792916.post-8357383175719241152</id><published>2008-04-07T19:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T19:27:14.948-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog Change</title><content type='html'>You're all more than welcome to check out the creepy comment I got from "anonymous" - an insensible rant that basically only reinforced my belief in crazy people. However, from now on you need to be registered to comment. Ya'll already are so it makes no difference really, except that if you were "anonymous" you will now need to stop hiding behind your computer and confront this 22 yr old girl of whom you are scared shizless. And believe me, I'm happy to confront you. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128862070740792916-8357383175719241152?l=abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/feeds/8357383175719241152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128862070740792916&amp;postID=8357383175719241152' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/8357383175719241152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128862070740792916/posts/default/8357383175719241152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abbyquackenbush.blogspot.com/2008/04/blog-change.html' title='Blog Change'/><author><name>Abby Q.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04571916639707033521</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_opx8w9q8Uhk/S285ftcV1VI/AAAAAAAAAMk/2-cGQTJTB6U/S220/IMG_0261.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
