Just finished messing with some pics that I uploaded from my phoneTuesday, November 24, 2009
AIM, bring it back
Just like in high school, funny moments of instant messaging are captured. Sometimes, this can explain your humor, or what you think is intriguing. Choosing what little space you have in your information is crucial. Should it be a song quote, a poem, a funny conversation you had with someone. Thats all you had to work with when talking in AOL Instant Messaging.. just simple expressions, simple smiley faces of emotion.
I miss it a lot, but Facebook instant chatting is reminiscent to my forgotten friend, as well as an after school activity that consumed hours of my time. My middle school years were spent, mastering the key board, typing faster to maximize the amount of conversations I could have at one time. Multi tasking at it's very basic form.
And I was,
YankySpanky4.....
even though I cant remember why I picked that name, twas a valiant effort to support this screen name against the common and cliche....
hotstuff45
eyewanabonya
LusciousLipsLucy
........this is what sparked my memory about instant messaging...the simple but funny things you can't quite explain to other people and would rather show them..
I miss it a lot, but Facebook instant chatting is reminiscent to my forgotten friend, as well as an after school activity that consumed hours of my time. My middle school years were spent, mastering the key board, typing faster to maximize the amount of conversations I could have at one time. Multi tasking at it's very basic form.
And I was,
YankySpanky4.....
even though I cant remember why I picked that name, twas a valiant effort to support this screen name against the common and cliche....
hotstuff45
eyewanabonya
LusciousLipsLucy
........this is what sparked my memory about instant messaging...the simple but funny things you can't quite explain to other people and would rather show them..
Kenneth
Whats up girl
I thought I seen you the other day in north seattle
I creepd on a girl and hugged her
5:48pmNicole
lol
5:48pmKenneth
I swear it was you
But the difference between instant messaging back in the day, was that your only identity was in your name. Uniquely hand picked to be whatever and however you wanted to be expressed. With Facebook, an entire web page explains as much as possible to the viewers eye. It tells you where you've been most recently, where you go to school possibly even your classes, where you live, where you work, a stalkers dream come true. Not to say that Facebook, is a website for stalkers, but Im just commenting on the accessibility of information that people do provide.
It can also bring up old memories, people who put those "elementary years" photo albums up.
Most likely they create albums themselves because they weren't tagged enough in other pictures. However, for those who have changed since then, moments like this can be embarrassing.
Brittany Kisor
I answered ''In 5th grade, I told her how much I liked her butterfly key chain watch that she had attached to her belt buckle and from then on our friendship keeps growing.''
dot...dot....dot
I almost forgot about that watch, but Ill always remember this random act of awesomeness, because of the embarrassing information now viewed publicly and to all of my friends. The live post updates automatically every second. Seeping into the hands of I Phones, and Blackberries where the internet reminds them of activity online. It could take moments to remove the tag, just seconds to unclick, but it wont take that long for someone to see... and someone will see.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
THE SPEED OF SOUND.....
340.29 meters per second....
about the time it took me to realize that I was going to finish watching this video till the very end. I found it wandering the labyrinth of music more commonly referred to as YouTube. I was originally looking for a song that was stuck in my head all morning while I was at work, which I later found afterwords. This will not be the first random act of awesomeness dedication in the musical form....or from YouTube most likely.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Awesomness in Service
My very good friend who may or may not want to be named (will discuss later the details personally before publishing) who worked for the trendy and upward moving empire of the Starbucks corporation. The 200% profit making company hired her as promising member of the barista family. Her uniform was a clean evergreen polo, with black accents. She long deserved this charge of random act of awesomeness from many different moments combined into this one story.
I visited her frequently mainly for the free drinks. Mostly for the adrenaline rush of a constantly high volume, kid screaming, machine steaming orchestra that vibrates off the walls. I remember now why I go to support local coffee shops instead of Starbucks. It reminds me of a bar, leaning over and yelling my particular drink order. Ill have a tall non fat 155 degree sugar free vanilla latte. But Starbucks jargon understands like a Jedi what your order is, or they must know how to read lips because they understand me despite the decibel level.
Anyways, on one particular morning I visit my friend to check in on her considering she ran out of the house that morning running questionably still drunk to work. She was freshly into her shift. My eyes scanned for her as I approached a vacant but cashier-less register. I see a figure moving underneath the newly open cash drawer. Its her.
I say her name, and to her excitement she popped her head up like a bolt of lighting from Zeus. Only to be pushed down again to the ground harder than any hit Ali could have given. She moves instantly into a rolling rumble, rocking back and forth on her back, legs paralyzed upwards stuck in the air. Her hands were grasping tightly her head. It took her much time to get level with gravity again because her large screaming laughs tightened her stomach making it hard to move anything in fear of cramping. The restless other employees don't even glance at the wounded solider, instead rush through the tight barista counter with large gallons of milk, moving like carpenter ants.
Finally she pops to her feet and echoes loudly with excitement "Hey man, whats up! What can I get ya" I admire immediately her perseverance in delivering world class hospitality. I make my order and she puts my cup on the line. I watch the robot like movement of the baristas pumping out lattes with a perfect assembly line. It shouldn't be much time now, as I part ways from my friend she turns away, and I see immediately a sliver of skin belonging to her butt. It not only stretched from the bottom of her back, to the top of her knee....all skin......0. Naturally the girl thing to do is to whisper politely the almost embarrassing flaw in her outfit.
" I know, so check this, I was running down 55th to get to work, still drunk and I was running and thinking. hmm...... It's a little breezy, but whatever. But when I get to work I bend down and it just RIPS!.
...thats unfortunate.
"Yah ill probably fix it after work"
......
She remained exposed for the duration of her shift. Strategically stepping behind people and never to face her back to them. When you stand still no one can really see the tear anyways, it sort of blends back in to the pants.
Except for me.
I commend her on the effortless calm behavior to her misfortune, and extreme moment of pressure. A true quality of the Starbucks work ethic, coffee first and sacrifice everything else till after your shift is over.
Of course I was amused to be in the busiest Starbucks in the world. Closely tied to one somewhere in China. That makes my friend a celebrity on some level. But I left satisfied. I remembered why I walked in to the Starbucks experience like visiting a large city. But I also remembered the reason why me and my friend are friends. She took a knock in the head and she did it with class. Classy because of her slightly revealing uniform, and awesome because she potentially had a minor concussion.
Awesome
I visited her frequently mainly for the free drinks. Mostly for the adrenaline rush of a constantly high volume, kid screaming, machine steaming orchestra that vibrates off the walls. I remember now why I go to support local coffee shops instead of Starbucks. It reminds me of a bar, leaning over and yelling my particular drink order. Ill have a tall non fat 155 degree sugar free vanilla latte. But Starbucks jargon understands like a Jedi what your order is, or they must know how to read lips because they understand me despite the decibel level.
Anyways, on one particular morning I visit my friend to check in on her considering she ran out of the house that morning running questionably still drunk to work. She was freshly into her shift. My eyes scanned for her as I approached a vacant but cashier-less register. I see a figure moving underneath the newly open cash drawer. Its her.
I say her name, and to her excitement she popped her head up like a bolt of lighting from Zeus. Only to be pushed down again to the ground harder than any hit Ali could have given. She moves instantly into a rolling rumble, rocking back and forth on her back, legs paralyzed upwards stuck in the air. Her hands were grasping tightly her head. It took her much time to get level with gravity again because her large screaming laughs tightened her stomach making it hard to move anything in fear of cramping. The restless other employees don't even glance at the wounded solider, instead rush through the tight barista counter with large gallons of milk, moving like carpenter ants.
Finally she pops to her feet and echoes loudly with excitement "Hey man, whats up! What can I get ya" I admire immediately her perseverance in delivering world class hospitality. I make my order and she puts my cup on the line. I watch the robot like movement of the baristas pumping out lattes with a perfect assembly line. It shouldn't be much time now, as I part ways from my friend she turns away, and I see immediately a sliver of skin belonging to her butt. It not only stretched from the bottom of her back, to the top of her knee....all skin......0. Naturally the girl thing to do is to whisper politely the almost embarrassing flaw in her outfit.
" I know, so check this, I was running down 55th to get to work, still drunk and I was running and thinking. hmm...... It's a little breezy, but whatever. But when I get to work I bend down and it just RIPS!.
...thats unfortunate.
"Yah ill probably fix it after work"
......
She remained exposed for the duration of her shift. Strategically stepping behind people and never to face her back to them. When you stand still no one can really see the tear anyways, it sort of blends back in to the pants.
Except for me.
I commend her on the effortless calm behavior to her misfortune, and extreme moment of pressure. A true quality of the Starbucks work ethic, coffee first and sacrifice everything else till after your shift is over.
Of course I was amused to be in the busiest Starbucks in the world. Closely tied to one somewhere in China. That makes my friend a celebrity on some level. But I left satisfied. I remembered why I walked in to the Starbucks experience like visiting a large city. But I also remembered the reason why me and my friend are friends. She took a knock in the head and she did it with class. Classy because of her slightly revealing uniform, and awesome because she potentially had a minor concussion.
Awesome
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