The Saga of Ripping Pants

Welp, it happened again. Then again, then again, then another time. I ripped my pants. Through the course of seven months I have ripped my pants five times. It truly is amazing that I could go through the first twenty years of my life with only getting ripes in my knees and now I here I am with four dead pants in my closet. I would now like to take this time and guide everyone who reads my blog the life and death of my pants.
1. Aprilish, 2007 reading day right before finals. There I am in the Wilk wearing what might as well be my least favorite pants. I hate these pants but I wear them because I have to wear clothes when my favorite pair are dirty. I bent over tie my shoes (which I rarely do because I am always having other people do it for me) and then rip! right across the back pocket, luckily I had a satchel that covered that area nicely. Also I hated those pants so no big deal in the end
2. July 5thish. It was my first day of work at the Greenhouse and my favorite pants,which I had had for about three years, decided to start tearing in the thigh area. I tried to save them by putting a iron on patch in that area but that proved fruitless.
3. Two days later. These pair of jeans were pretty great. I had had them for about two year and I wore them about evey other day. This time I was again at work. I had step up onto a platform and rip! Right across my back pocket. Instead of going home to change my pants I ducked taped them, but then I had to throw them away. That truly was a sad moment
4. End of November .I was down to four pairs of jeans. I hated two of them and the other two were great. I wore these jeans I had gotten from Christmas that my mom had gotten from Buckle, so these were expensive jeans to me. I wore them alot and I could tell that they were wearing out in the crotch, getting thinner and thinner. One day they ripped on the right side, but I was determined these pants would last me so I put a iron on patch up in there.
5. December 1, 2007 11:22pm. Those pants from above ripped, almost right in half. I was playing broom hockey on the ice over at the seven peaks. I was going for the ball and fell and then rip! For the rest of the night I has to wear a jacket around my waist.
And now I am down to one pair of descent pants and two that I hate.
I am sure the saga will continue

National Public Sydney

You're listening to All Things Considered with your host Sydney Lambson.
So here I am writing a blog. It is fun. I think what I do is pick a theme and write about it. That is what my friends are doing with their blogs.
I would like to take this blog and discuss National Public Radio or as my mother likes to throw around "the NPR." I like NPR. It comes me informed. I especially like "wait, wait, don't tell me" and "all songs considered." I have been told the NPR is what you listen to when you get older. My parents and my siblings are addicted. So we will sit there at the dinner table quoting NPR. It gets competitive trying to keep up with them. I am at a disadvantage because I don't have a car so I can't listen to it on my daily transits. I do listen to the podcasts when I get the time. The thing is we are really the ones at the disadvantage, my whole family. All we do is listen in NPR and claim we know something about what is going on in the world. I have found that I have a skill in grasping on to the smallest piece of information and making it sound like I know something. The crazy thing is I always get away with it. I don't have to read the paper or watch the news, NPR will cover me. I can get away with it because I have found that most of my peers don't know what going on in the world either, so it feeds my skimming of news habit.

Someday I will get called out on my bluff. Someday I will begin to truly be informed.

The art of thumbnail sketches

Thumbnail sketch... it is neither a thumbnail nor a sketch of a thumbnail... discuss.
These thumbnail sketches are making my brain go crazy. Art is not some I do