tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20906134720089319622024-03-12T19:28:40.019-06:00the fall of itHollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03919636162007331123noreply@blogger.comBlogger154125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-89897438944553720732011-10-26T15:56:00.000-06:002011-10-26T15:56:04.999-06:00I did it again.New blog address:<a href="http://thefallofit.wordpress.com/"> thefallofit.wordpress.com</a><br />
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It's super cool.Rosemary Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239709643363937906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-18336670723611747922011-10-18T15:39:00.001-06:002011-10-18T16:01:13.058-06:00There's really nothing to say about this,<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.newyorker.com/"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFEnhXhyBy7zNQaJMPNN6GB8Jl2-lnuPUFvs8lE_XbxexJwbXf1NgeAIEJ9ukYXs_uk05D2awd-PhbZY3Hj1IuL4czN92z2CHY5x3dEi5pONEw8-xc-p1EBfwhn3FgYYqFMRvJ0uFTeg57/s320/new+yorker.jpg" width="234" /></a></div>
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Other than it's incredible.</div>Rosemary Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239709643363937906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-32010748432991977932011-10-03T22:16:00.000-06:002011-10-04T17:01:08.308-06:00An S can make lots of different soundsHolly graduated from this blog and went on to <a href="http://troyandholls.blogspot.com/">a cooler one</a>, just FYI. New URL for this blog: <a href="http://thefallofit.blogspot.com/">thefallofit.blogspot.com</a>. Anyway, enjoy.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="267" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/9jIhNOrVG58?rel=0" width="350"></iframe>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="267" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/_2gc6V3UVQs?rel=0" width="350"></iframe>Rosemary Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239709643363937906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-20110233635471358372011-08-13T13:11:00.002-06:002011-08-13T13:22:55.784-06:00It's not all gone<iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/urt2cy7AqFs?rel=0" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" width="425"></iframe>
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<br />Yep, they're both super cool.
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<br />And yep, he really plays the banjo, straight up shreds it.
<br />Rosemary Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239709643363937906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-83136453256740027132011-07-19T23:07:00.004-06:002011-07-19T23:09:29.933-06:00the fall of it<span style="font-family: courier new;font-family:";font-size:130%;" >You know you're in Utah when what would be a mild rainstorm most everywhere else in the world draws everyone in the office to the window in awe of downpour and thunder that last less than 10 minutes.</span>Rosemary Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239709643363937906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-902805593564320052011-06-12T04:28:00.006-06:002011-06-13T18:05:38.305-06:00Pigeons don't care that you're standing in their wayOr out of their way, for that matter.<br /><br />On Friday night we went to a mosque close to the park where we live, and we covered our hair with scarves and entered the huge prayer room where a Muslim man sat down with us beneath the vast blue dome and taught us about the Five Pillars of Islam and what it means to believe in Allah.<br /><br />Then we rented bikes in the park and rode around in the rain through the streets of London until we found good cookies and were soaked to the skin.<br /><br />On Monday we went to St. Paul's Cathedral and sat staring in awe at the gigantic dome towering above us and the painted murals staring down at us, and we climbed so many stairs to the top that we could see for miles and miles in every direction.<br /><br />Last week we went to Les Miserables, which is my most favorite theater production of all time, and the voices were so beautiful, and the story was so tragic that I may have cried once or twice, and I haven't been able to stop listening to those songs.<br /><br />Yesterday we went to Westminster Abbey where we saw the graves of Isaac Newton, Bloody Mary, Queen Elizabeth I, Mary Queen of Scots, Lord Byron, Wordsworth, the Bronte sisters, Matthew Arnold, George Frideric Handel, Charles Dickens, Geoffrey Chaucer, Oliver Cromwell, Charles Darwin, Alfred Tennyson, Edward Elgar, William Walton and tons and tons and tons of others.<br /><br />On Friday we went to Kew Gardens, the largest botanical gardens in the world, just outside of London, and we walked and walked through the most beautiful redwoods and rhododendrons and waterlilies.<br /><br />On Thursday, we went to a free piano concert at church where a professional Russian piano man played pieces by Franz Liszt and Pyotr Tchaikovsky and Alexander Scriabin, a Russian composer whose pieces I'd never heard before, and I couldn't believe someone so talented, with so many credentials, would play a free concert in such a small chapel for such ordinary people.<br /><br />On Thursday we rode a train outside of London to Southall where many, many Indian people live, and we went to one of the biggest Gurdwara temples around, a temple where they practice <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sikhism">Sikhism</a>, and we ate dinner at one of the best Indian restaurants around, and the food was so spicy my stomach almost folded in on itself and defected from its duties.<br /><br />A couple weekends ago we went to a soccer match--I refuse to call it football because it's just not football--at Wembley Stadium between England and Switzerland, and we were so high in the stands that we could've been in an airplane, but the field was smack dab in the middle, and the soccer players made it so much fun to watch, and it was over so fast; there were so many people that it took us an hour to get back to the train station, which had taken five minutes to walk from on our way to the game.<br /><br />Now, it is the fifth and last week of London.Rosemary Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239709643363937906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-17036483956412499172011-05-30T17:16:00.000-06:002011-05-30T17:17:11.908-06:00The other day it rained, and my legs turned blue<p>Not a joke. They're almost back to normal.<br /><br />The other day we went to the British Museum, and Danielle and I made up stories about everything we saw in there because we were not in the mood to read all of the informational plaques.<br /><br />The other day we were going to ride bikes in the park, but it started raining, so instead we walked to a mosque and then ate fish and chips on the side of the road with lots and lots of tartar sauce.<br /><br />The other day we walked around a special part of London and saw where Charles Darwin lived and where Virginia Woolf and other people lived and what parks they visited.<br /><br />The other day we took a train to Cambridge University in Cambridge and explored the whole town, and we visited the many colleges within the university and went inside King's College church, built in the 15th and 16th centuries, which was enormous and magnificent, and we saw the stain glass windows it took them 30 years to complete.<br /><br />The other day in Cambridge we went to a little cottage where artists gathered to share their ideas and read books, and then we went to another church at Clare College where we participated in Evensong and listened to a beautiful choir sing Psalms and repeat scripture.<br /><br />On Wednesday night, a few of us got on a bus at 11:00 p.m. and ended up in Edinburgh, Scotland (one of my most favorite cities) at 8:00 a.m. Amount of sleep we got in that time - zero. We found a little bed and breakfast a few minutes out of town where Graham, the owner, with a thick, thick mustache and thick, thick Scottish accent, let us sleep and fed us breakfast and called me shorty and tried to sell us his expensive kilts.<br /><br />That day we walked up the Royal Mile and went to Edinburgh Castle and listened to them shoot the one o'clock cannon, and we saw where they kept their prisoners and where they worshipped their God and where they buried their dogs.<br /><br />Later that day we ate some good Scottish food at the Crag and Tale and explored St. Giles Church and listened to the bagpipe street musicians, and then we ventured into the catacombs beneath the city on a ghost tour in what is said to be one of the most haunted places in Great Britain, but I'm still waiting for proof.<br /><br />The train ride on Friday from Edinburgh to Stirling was so beautiful that it almost kept me awake, but I fell asleep and when we got there, we walked up 246 steps to the top of the William Wallace Monument, and it was so windy on top that I could barely stand up straight, and we could see for miles and miles, and I never wanted to leave because I love wind and good views.<br /><br />A bus ride and a few minutes walk later, we were in Stirling Castle with another gorgeous view taking lots of pictures and trying not to cry from the beauty.<br /><br />The same day, we went to St. Andrew's, a town with that really famous golf course, and we bought some golf balls, and we climbed some rocks on the beach, and we put our feet in the freezing, freezing North Sea.<br /><br />The next day we hiked up to the very top of Arthur's Seat in Edinburgh, now an inactive volcano, which compared to Salt Lake mountains looks like just a hill, but when you hike up it, it feels like a mountain, and it was so windy on top that I had to hold onto stuff so I wouldn't fly away, and we could see all of Edinburgh and the Firth of Forth and the thunderclouds rolling in, and we had to huddle under my raincoat because we were too stubborn to get off that mountain any sooner than we needed to.<br /><br />I feel like I have lived five lives in the past two and a half weeks.<br /><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.bestofedinburgh.com/uploads/16_arthurs_seat.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://www.bestofedinburgh.com/uploads/16_arthurs_seat.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="font-size: 78%;">I stole this picture of Arthur's Seat from Google because I didn't take a picture of it myself.</span></span></div>Rosemary Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239709643363937906noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-14563631580631092782011-05-16T15:39:00.005-06:002011-05-16T16:33:03.386-06:00So I've just been ambling around<span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="messageBody">Today we went to the National Portrait Gallery (<a href="http://www.npg.org.uk/">http://www.npg.org.uk/</a>) to see the portraits of Vanessa Bell and James Joyce and T.S. Eliot and Winston Churchill and others while our guide woman taught us all about their lives, but later they kicked us out because of a mysterious brown bag left in one of the rooms.</span></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br />But we went next door to the National Gallery and saw paintings by Monet and Manet and Da Vinci and Rembrandt and Degas, but the best part was the old school bathrooms that have hand towels like those in middle school where the cloth towel just rotates around in a circle in the towel compartment.<br /><br />Tonight we stopped at an Indian restaurant and ate some spicy curry and some not-so-spicy curry with yellow rice and white rice and Nan bread and other bread, and we ate a dessert of fried butter balls drenched in sweetened butter sauce with a scoop of butter-covered ice cream, and Samira, the owner, showed us a picture of his son and daughter that was in his wallet in his back pocket.<br /><br />Tonight after Indian food we went to Buckingham Palace, and we watched the British guards do their hourly march while we talked about Prince Harry and how no one's allowed to take pictures of the Pentagon or the American guards will tear you apart, and we sat by the fountain looking at the empty water bottles and trash floating around in it, and listened to each others' life stories.<br /><br />Yesterday we went to Westminster Abbey for mass, and we sang songs and listened to scripture, and we walked over the graves of Edward Elgar and William Walton and Sir Isaac Newton, and I was so tired my head was nodding, but the ceiling was really high, the organ pipes were gigantic, the priest's voice echoed elegantly, and they used real candles.<br /><br />Last night we were getting on the tube, but we took too long, and I was the last one to get on except I was too late, and the doors started closing, so I stuck my arm out to stop the doors, except it turns out the doors refuse to open again once they've shut, so I was stuck</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="messageBody"> for a couple minutes trying with all my might to pry the doors open, and James was trying to help me, but the train was about to start moving, and the doors were not opening, so finally I just wrenched my arm out because I didn't want to get gutted in the tube tunnel and give my student traveling health insurance a reason to send my body back to Salt Lake for free because that is one of the services they provide.<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Yesterday we went to Speaker's Corner in Hyde Park, and it was really interesting because there were perhaps ten men on their stepladders talking about religion, arguing about Islam and Christianity and Judaism, and there was a lot of yelling, and a Kuwaiti man who was perhaps 50 years old was trying to get me to go to dinner with him, but James and Matt came and saved me from him.<br /><br />Also</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span><span><span class="messageBody">, yesterday when we were in Hyde Park, Matt suddenly got really excited and wanted to take a picture with some guy on a bike, so I took a picture of them and then after Matt said, that was Ewan McGregor, and I was like, wwwwhhhhatttt, because I didn't even recognize him.</span></span></span></span><br /><br />I'm just waiting to see Ian McKellen or Jude Law or Posh Spice.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://brisbane.jollypeople.com/files/2009/11/Ewan+McGregor.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 283px;" src="http://brisbane.jollypeople.com/files/2009/11/Ewan+McGregor.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Ewan McGregor for you...he's much more<br />attractive in person than in the movies.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Rosemary Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239709643363937906noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-34209579032719098072011-05-14T23:38:00.005-06:002011-05-16T16:35:02.796-06:00Well I'm in London nowSo that's fun.<br /><br />In the past 72 hours, I have slept 11 hours. Apparently, even if I'm so tired my eyes feel like they're going to fall out of my head, it doesn't mean my brain will let me sleep. It's 6:43 a.m., Sunday morning here and 11:43 p.m., Saturday night at home and 12:43 p.m., Sunday afternoon in Thailand. Whatever clock I'm on is just all sorts of messed up.<br /><br />Favorite thing about London so far: Regent's Park. The campus I'm going to school on is nestled in one corner of Regent's Park, which, it turns out, isn't just a park, but its own sovereign nation with tiny cafes everywhere, football, cricket, weddings, pedestrians and people living in the trees, and I'm pretty sure it's bigger than the Vatican and Liechtenstein put together.<br /><br />There are lots of pigeons and ducks and other birds with nice, long necks who make lots of noise in the morning.<br /><br />I could probably spend the whole five weeks I'm here just exploring this park, but there are perhaps thousands of parks in London, so I think I'll try and spread my time evenly among all of them.<br /><br />Also, the second most common language spoken in London is apparently Bengali. Who knew?Rosemary Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239709643363937906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-47254905510179260822011-05-05T18:29:00.002-06:002011-05-05T18:37:18.861-06:00Just drinking some pomegranate juice in celebration of finishing my last paper of the semester.Mmm.Rosemary Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239709643363937906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-8534429042731460832011-04-30T11:52:00.010-06:002011-05-03T15:06:01.174-06:00Mrs. Stogsdill and the Blustery DayI'm not sure how it can be 70 degrees one day and be a blizzard the next. But of one thing I am sure: Thursday's weather knew that Holly was getting married that day, so it told all the weather in the valley to be respectful and honor her on the happiest day of her life. And it did until about 5:30 p.m. when it became so blustery that we couldn't see straight for the hair flying everywhere. But that's okay.<br /><br />A lot of things have been changing and ending this week - wards, classes, jobs - lots of things. But the biggest and most important change this week was Holly.<br /><br />HOLLY GOT MARRIED.<br /><br />It was the happiest day for her, and it was pretty dang happy for the rest of us, too. I'm having wedding day withdrawal right now; I would relive that day over and over again if I could. And that may be the girliest thing I've ever said, but I mean it.<br /><br />There was a wedding dinner on Wednesday night, the night before the wedding. I got to give a toast because I've known Holly since we were barely old enough to blink, and we've been each others' best friend for nearly 22 years. So all week I've been thinking about Holly and all the things I love about her and all the memories that I have with her. And I discovered I have more memories with Holly in them than with her not in them.<br /><br />There was a time when we were seniors in high school, and we skipped our art class to go skiing, and we thought we were being so sneaky, but our teacher and my mom and Holly's mom all knew what we'd done the moment we got home.<br /><br />There's the summer after we'd graduated high school when we decided to pull out our 15-year-old roller blades and roller blade around Holly's neighborhood, and she went straight down a really steep hill, and I zigzagged down it.<br /><br />There was one time in elementary school when we were playing in my bedroom and started jumping on the beds trying to catch the fruit flies that were flying all around my room by clapping them between our hands.<br /><br />There was the time she came to Lake Powell and Jackson Hole and Lake Powell again and again and again with my family, and we ate tons and tons of chewy caramels and played Egyptian Rat Screw and Speed until our hands hurt.<br /><br />There are all the seasons we played soccer together, her on offense, me on defense, and she would dominate even though she was so small because everyone underestimated her feistiness.<br /><br />There's the time we were late for our history class, so we were running through the halls, and it was a snowy day, and the halls were really slippery and as we rounded a corner, Holly slipped, fell onto her knees and slid across the floor, all the while trying to grab the lockers for support, and we barely kept straight faces when we walked into class.<br /><br />There was one time in the St. George temple waiting to do baptisms for the dead, something funny happened, and we laughed and laughed and couldn't stop laughing until I left to get some water, and the woman in charge came in and thanked us for being so reverent.<br /><br />There were the times when we would go on choir tour, and Holly would lend me her hairspray because I always managed to forget mine.<br /><br />There's the time we were in our art class and Holly was playing with a stapler, putting her finger right where the staples shoot out. Next thing I know she's jumping up and down holding her finger and I'm dying of laughter because she had stapled her finger.<br /><br />There're all the times we went to Holly's house for lunch during high school, and she would make us cheese quesadillas while we ate dill pickles and drank chocolate milk.<br /><br />There's the time that Stacy, Caroline, Holly and I played a piano quartet together and then went to Wendy's after we performed it.<br /><br />There are all those times we would hang out with just each other or only a few others instead of going to parties because Holly never needed to be doing something extraordinary to feel extraordinary, and she never needed any validation from anyone because she is who she is and why would she ever change that or need someone else to substantiate that?<br /><br />And there are all the phone calls, the lemonade sales, the excursions in the barbie cars, the bike rides, the rule-breaking, the tennis lessons, swimming at the Spa, eating watermelon, macaroni and cheese, pretending to be Nancy Drew detectives...I could go on and on.<br /><br />I have gone on and on.<br /><br />The best part about this whole thing is that Holly married Troy. Someone who will always appreciate Holly for who she is and never ask her to change because he knows doing that would go against everything he believes her to be and everything she believes him to be. And when they are old and wrinkled, the knowing looks they give each other now will be even deeper, their hugs even more natural, their "I love you's" even easier, their consideration even more sincere. They get to be together forever.<br /><br />I can't wait for their life to happen.Rosemary Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239709643363937906noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-52115520488343001982011-04-24T12:02:00.006-06:002011-04-24T17:27:06.208-06:00Today it's Easter<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.christusrex.org/www1/citta/0w-Pieta.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 325px; height: 296px;" src="http://www.christusrex.org/www1/citta/0w-Pieta.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">"And now as pertaining to this perfect atonement, wrought by the shedding of the blood of God, I testify that it took place in Gethsemane and at Golgotha. And as pertaining to Jesus Christ, I testify that He is the Son of the living God, who was crucified for the sins of the world. He is our Lord, our God and our King. This I know of myself independent of any other person. I am one of His witnesses, and in the coming day, I shall feel the nail marks in His hands and in His feet and shall wet His feet with my tears. But I shall not know any better then than I know now that He is God's Almighty Son, that He is our Savior and Redeemer, and that salvation comes in and through His atoning blood and no other way. God grant that all of us may walk in the light, as God our Father is in the light, so that according to the promises, the blood of Jesus Christ His son will cleanse us from all sin."</span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Elder Bruce R. McConkie</span><br /></div><br /></div>Rosemary Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239709643363937906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-40836119964335491442011-04-11T16:13:00.008-06:002011-04-14T13:03:16.529-06:00Never once have I had this dream beforeLast night I had a dream that I was about to be abducted by aliens, and that they were going to make me learn ballet, because all aliens believe ballet to be the purest and most sacred art form there is (don't they?). The worst part was that a day before they were to abduct me, the aliens tagged my wrist to track me like an animal, so I knew what was coming, and when I told my dad and my family, I couldn't get anyone to listen. It was perhaps the worst nightmare I've had in months.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleeps.com/dictionary/aaa.html">Dream Central's Dream Dictionary</a> says, "If you dream you have been abducted by aliens this shows your fear of changing your surroundings or your deep seated fear of losing your home and family."<br /><br />So, this means one of two things: either I'm really not ready to get married (or as Chelsea pointed out, not ready for everyone <span style="font-style: italic;">else</span> to get married) (yeah okay, <span style="font-style: italic;">maybe</span>), or I'm not ready to get out of Utah next month. Mostly because if either of those things happen, Andrew will for sure take over my room and the car I drive and make them smell like boy, and then where will I go?Rosemary Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239709643363937906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-42426973098151477042011-04-04T16:15:00.003-06:002011-04-04T16:19:35.545-06:00It's like a really super technologically advanced Harry Potter world<iframe title="YouTube video player" width="385" height="247" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/6Cf7IL_eZ38" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br />Just imagine how many times a day you'd have to Windex all that glass to clean off the dirty fingerprints.Rosemary Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239709643363937906noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-6148065141715718342011-03-21T10:42:00.011-06:002011-03-21T20:25:45.025-06:00Missing in action<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Holly here. Remember me? Yeah, it's been a while. This next story will help explain why I've been M.I.A. for the last few months. In case you haven't heard my engagement story yet, here's a long, very detailed description of how it went down. I wish you the best in avoiding readers fatigue. If the task of reading this post seems daunting, feel free to skip to the <span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">paragraph in</span> purple</span> where you'll find the juice of the story.</span>
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<br /></span> <meta name="Title" content=""> <meta name="Keywords" content=""> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> <meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"> <meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <link style="font-family: lucida grande;" rel="File-List" href="file://localhost/Users/Holly/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip/0/clip_filelist.xml"> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>736</o:Words> <o:characters>4197</o:Characters> <o:company>Brigham Young University</o:Company> <o:lines>34</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>8</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>5154</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Lucida Grande"; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:lucida grande;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;">I headed up to Salt Lake late on a Thursday night since I had work the next morning. On Friday, November 19, my brother-in-law texted me and said he had run into Troy on campus and wanted to invite us to a dessert and game night with Heather and him. I called Troy to ask if he’d like to go. He said yes, so I let Brad know we'd be coming over around 9. I knew Troy would be picking me up from work to take</span><span style="font-size:85%;"> me out to dinner, but he surprised me by coming in early. After I got off work, he took me to Olive Garden. He acted perfectly normal to me, but I found out later that he was actually pretty nervous.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:lucida grande;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;">
<br /></span></p><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><o:p></o:p></span><div> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: justify;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> After we finished eating, he drove me back to work to pick up my car so we could go to my house and change before going to game night. While I was turning the heat on in my car and getting situated, I looked over at Troy, who was parked next to me, and watched as he gripped the steering wheel while mouthing words and what not. I thought it was a bit strange and it made me laugh. I rolled down my window to ask if he was ok and he said yes so I thought nothing of it. After I changed clothes, I ran upstairs to find some games to bring. My mom asked if I was going to bring a jacket and I told her no because I thought we were going to be </span><span style="font-size:85%;">inside the whole time. She asked if I was sure and I said yes. I was unaware that in about half an hour, I would be on the top of a mountain in the freezing, gusting wind.
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: justify;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:85%;">
<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: justify;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> We hopped in the car and Troy drove us to Heather and Brad's house. While pulling into their neighborhood, he didn’t see a speed bump coming so I warned him, but instead of pushing the breaks, he pushed the gas! I told him he needed to calm down or I was going to get car sick. Still, though, I didn't really suspecting anything because he had told me the week before that he still didn't have enough money to buy the ring. I honesty wasn’t expecting to get proposed to for a couple more weeks. We pulled up to their house and their car wasn’t there. Their lights weren’t on either. I thought that was really strange, but we went and knocked on the door an</span><span style="font-size:85%;">yway. No answer, as was the plan, but I found this very frustrating.
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<br /></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: justify;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> Troy called Brad who explained that they'd gone out to dinner downtown and the food had taken longer than expected so they wouldn’t be there for another 20 minutes or so. Troy and I were already 20 minutes late and now we were going to have to wait for another 20 for them to get there?! I expressed to Troy my frustration and told him that was very rude of them. He told me not to get too riled up about it because we had been late too, so we sat back in the car and after a few minutes, he suggested that we just go on a drive to kill some time and go to a lookout point in Draper where Heather and Brad had taken us to a few months before. I agreed. He asked me to help direct him there because he wasn’t sure if he r</span><span style="font-size:85%;">emembered how to get there. What I didn’t know was that just a couple hours earlier, he'd driven up there to make sure he knew how to get there. For a while, I thought we were going to wrong way until I spotted a landmark I recognized.
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<br /></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"><span style="font-size:85%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: justify;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);font-size:85%;" > We pulled into the lookout point and I wasn’t expecting to get out of the car since it was so blustery and cold and Troy knows how much I hate the wind. As I Ieaned over and laid my head on his arm, I could hear and feel his heart beating unusually fast. That’s when it hit me. I knew he was about to propose. He said he was going to get his jacket out of the trunk and grab a blanket for me. He had me stay in the car while he did that so I wouldn’t see him grab the ring as well. I was </span><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);font-size:85%;" >getting pretty excited at this point. He came and wrapped me in the blanket and took me out to get a better view of the city lights. He went on the explain how this was a central point in our dating life. We had memories in Provo, Salt Lake, Park City and Midway and these were the places where we had fallen in love. As he was talking to me, I heard him accidentally click the ring box. Apparently he was trying to find the hinge on the box so he wouldn’t open it the wrong way when he proposed. The suspense was building and he finally knelt down and asked me to marry him. I exclaimed, “Of course I’ll marry you!” and wrapped my arms around him before even looking at the ring. After we hugged (and maybe kissed), he asked if I would like to see the ring. I was so excited, I hadn't even looked at the ring yet! It's </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">such a beautiful ring and it represents so much love, devotion and hard work on his part.</span>
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<br /></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: lucida grande;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: justify;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> We got back into the warm car to take a better look at the ring. After laughing about how all of this had been set up and I had fallen for everything, I called Rose and I didn’t even have to tell her we had just gotten engaged, she could just tell in the way I said hello that something had happened and we laughed and squealed in celebration for about three minutes. I was so blissfully happy. I was going to marry my best friend who I was madly in love with. Life couldn’t have been any better. We went back to my house to celebrate with my family and I invited Rose over to join us.</span>
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<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: center;"><span style=";font-family:";" ><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">I have now been engaged for 4 months and will be marrying this smokin young lad in exactly <span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">38 days</span></span>.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: center;"><span style=";font-family:";" ><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"></span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyhJX2l4R3aKMYp10avnN4g9AfLWl8P5jockVzXQE1cV_9B1nzfHxm73w3qOAni7i5wSWqUz791Vknn21BHjbfM6jgID3GKo0XbkTO_ZfICrRmnf3auRjmFdz4YR4-kVKgvJcXNEOcmK0/s1600/troy+engagement+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 212px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyhJX2l4R3aKMYp10avnN4g9AfLWl8P5jockVzXQE1cV_9B1nzfHxm73w3qOAni7i5wSWqUz791Vknn21BHjbfM6jgID3GKo0XbkTO_ZfICrRmnf3auRjmFdz4YR4-kVKgvJcXNEOcmK0/s320/troy+engagement+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586581364255522130" border="0" /></a>
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<br />Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03919636162007331123noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-53403530295940887232011-03-16T23:24:00.004-06:002011-03-17T00:03:33.803-06:00I perhaps can write a longer run-on sentence than you canToday, as I drove home through the puddle pretending to be a freeway, it was so dark that I thought the night sky was raining down into the night, and I turned off my lights, and turned them back on...off, on, off, on...no difference (no cars were near me), but there was no difference, which left me wondering at the quality of lights the individuals over in Honda-land make, when I realized that I couldn't tell which lane I was driving in and the cars behind me were catching up.<br /><br />I remember in high school a boy who would always complain that during rainstorms in Utah, it's impossible to see the lines for lanes on the road, and ever since then, whenever it rains and I'm driving, all I think about is how I cannot see the lines on the road; it really is impossible.<br /><br />I remember one summer at Lake Powell looking straight up into the clouds while rain pounded the water and the rocks, and waterfalls flowed, molding the sandstone, making it shine like silver, like newly fallen snow.<br /><br />I remember one spring, during track practice, a thunderstorm began, and we stayed out there because the wet rain was an enormous relief from the dry heat, but the lightening bolts came closer and closer until too soon one struck feet from us (just a baby lightening bolt) and our hair went staticky, and our coach howled at us to get inside.<br /><br />I remember one of the first nights in Thailand when it was pouring rain and we didn't want to go to bed, because we were in Thailand and it was pouring rain and how could we go to bed...so, instead, we played a game of barefoot, midnight soccer in the mud in front of our home, and we slipped and tumbled around, t-shirts soaking through, hair dripping wet, eyes brimming joy, mouths laughing softly.<br /><br />Which reminds me, watch this:<br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="485" height="303" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/jU4oA3kkAWU?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Rosemary Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239709643363937906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-11699918383490640662011-03-07T11:08:00.003-07:002011-03-07T11:21:15.954-07:00<iframe title="YouTube video player" width="385" height="319" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/4c4eyP59nOM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br />People with this magnitude of musical talent just make the world a place worth living in.<br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="385" height="247" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/wt5YRexag1o" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Rosemary Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239709643363937906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-74484513635999342382011-03-02T19:01:00.010-07:002011-03-02T19:35:24.820-07:00To sum it up...All I ever hear in my classes at the U is that the future of journalism is gloomy. My teachers say that it's a profession so competitive that to even play, I can't just be a decent writer. I have to be able to write, plus take pictures, edit video, create sound bytes, be outstanding at all of those things and generate exceptional multimedia stories, while on deadline.<br /><br />Um. So as professional journalists tell me these things, it's extremely motivating to see that other <span style="font-style: italic;">professional journalists</span> are really going out of their way to find deep, meaningful stories and ethically present information to the public that we might otherwise never know about.<br /><br />I can't wait to report real, hard news stories like these blokes. It really makes me excited for the future.<br /><br /><br /><div style="background-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); width: 415px;"><div style="padding: 4px;"><embed src="http://media.mtvnservices.com/mgid:cms:video:thedailyshow.com:375725" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" base="." flashvars="" height="230" width="400"></embed><p style="text-align: left; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); padding: 4px; margin-top: 4px; margin-bottom: 0px; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"><b><a href="http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/mon-february-28-2011/the-biggest-newser">The Daily Show - The Biggest Newser</a></b><br />Tags: <a href="http://www.thedailyshow.com/full-episodes/">Daily Show Full Episodes</a>,<a href="http://www.indecisionforever.com/">Political Humor & Satire Blog</a>,<a href="http://www.facebook.com/thedailyshow">The Daily Show on Facebook</a></p></div></div><br /><br />Sheesh.Rosemary Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239709643363937906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-46540795059118263352011-02-27T22:04:00.009-07:002011-02-27T22:29:27.953-07:0027, on the devil<div style="text-align: center;">Today is this one's birthday.<br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoHLWNXD14tQ0ljwZ92GCoA677V-muASrXtc3e2EIinq-Pas5xKbPVcxuoU2Najc75Sok2KQN8Rtb_FlJSBGk_qSdmdRInl3bpQzxQH_C5X1M7hGSQL7-u-cwztvQVMawHi6TjJ25KBqW3/s1600/Jonathan+1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoHLWNXD14tQ0ljwZ92GCoA677V-muASrXtc3e2EIinq-Pas5xKbPVcxuoU2Najc75Sok2KQN8Rtb_FlJSBGk_qSdmdRInl3bpQzxQH_C5X1M7hGSQL7-u-cwztvQVMawHi6TjJ25KBqW3/s320/Jonathan+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578606912132431026" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghnIrQZs3kHOuU1WS5OaiGuGmQVYfX_eWsqApYCPe9p4BIlvv8zJoukNauOc2-ewKQS9Rxt7nSmVKMvKJvyUWwtSmoxOdjCSmX7RZ-yTCyE0Q9gLn1J024YLMfESsHviw3dMJzHg4p_T-i/s1600/jonathan.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghnIrQZs3kHOuU1WS5OaiGuGmQVYfX_eWsqApYCPe9p4BIlvv8zJoukNauOc2-ewKQS9Rxt7nSmVKMvKJvyUWwtSmoxOdjCSmX7RZ-yTCyE0Q9gLn1J024YLMfESsHviw3dMJzHg4p_T-i/s320/jonathan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578606913056276722" border="0" /></a>What a guy.<br /></div>Rosemary Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239709643363937906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-1730779201237722892011-02-14T11:58:00.002-07:002011-02-14T12:01:20.704-07:00The truth<object width="385" height="200"><param name="movie" value="http://www.hulu.com/embed/esvXckQPU3tj3tylE5I5yg/0/69"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.hulu.com/embed/esvXckQPU3tj3tylE5I5yg/0/69" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="385" height="200" allowFullScreen="true"></embed></object><br /><br />Happy Valentine's Day.Rosemary Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239709643363937906noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-45747092378025019442011-02-09T11:00:00.004-07:002011-02-09T11:21:00.888-07:00The inconceivable<iframe width="480" height="373" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" id="nyt_video_player" title="New York Times Video - Embed Player" src="http://graphics8.nytimes.com/bcvideo/1.0/iframe/embed.html?videoId=1248069620275&playerType=embed"></iframe><br /><br />Would our generation, as their American counterparts, would be quite as brave and determined if we saw such corruption in our own country? How far would we go to change our world? How much would we sacrifice to attain a better life? What would we risk simply to gain the freedom we take for granted everyday in this country?<br /><br /><iframe marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" id="nyt_video_player" title="New York Times Video - Embed Player" src="http://graphics8.nytimes.com/bcvideo/1.0/iframe/embed.html?videoId=1248069622796&playerType=embed" frameborder="0" height="373" scrolling="no" width="480"></iframe><br /><br />They are risking it <span style="font-style:italic;">all</span>.Rosemary Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239709643363937906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-24315867776565815582011-02-07T13:31:00.003-07:002011-02-07T21:36:50.586-07:00BooYAHIn light of the recent Superbowl, is it possible that a 15-yard penalty for excessive post-touchdown celebrations may be a slight overreaction to what is simply "unscripted, improvised entertainment running counter to the elaborately staged, exuberant and frequently over-the-top entertainment spectacle that is NFL football?"<br /><br />Yes, I think so. Just let the men be happy.<br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://www.niu.edu/comm/facultystaff/profiles/thomas_oates.shtml"><br />Thomas P. Oates</a> and <a href="http://www.marquette.edu/about/leadership/provost.shtml">John Pauly</a> think so, too, and they are real life journalism teachers.</span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span>Rosemary Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239709643363937906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-48297621442458267862011-02-03T17:36:00.003-07:002011-02-03T17:44:33.309-07:00My dad sent this to my siblings and me. Absolutely worth watching.<br /><a href="http://www.att.com/gen/press-room?pid=2964"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Dangers of Text Messaging and Driving</span></a><br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/DebhWD6ljZs" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="246" width="385"></iframe>Rosemary Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239709643363937906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-35829179280423422192011-01-23T23:00:00.005-07:002011-01-23T23:13:30.407-07:00Shake itThis is just really cool.<br /><br /><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/18869043" frameborder="0" height="225" width="400"></iframe><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/18869043">Shake the Dust - Uganda Sneak Preview</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/looseluggage">Loose Luggage</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</p><p><br /><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/7800431" frameborder="0" height="225" width="400"></iframe></p><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/7800431">Shake the Dust / KR3Ts</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/looseluggage">Loose Luggage</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</p><br /><br /><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/7568108" frameborder="0" height="225" width="400"></iframe><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/7568108">Shake The Dust</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/looseluggage">Loose Luggage</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</p><br /><a href="http://www.shakethedust.org/">www.shakethedust.org<br /></a>Rosemary Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239709643363937906noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2090613472008931962.post-48306313346163730542011-01-18T23:20:00.003-07:002011-01-19T10:57:28.020-07:00whoever said i had to write anythingI bet you never thought you could get through a day of college without a pen or pencil, did you?<br /><br />I usually have a plethora of writing utensils buried in my backpack, but today...none. What am I doing forgetting a pen when I'm a senior in college, you ask? Well, with my five feet and one whole inch I look like I'm a freshman in high school, so just give me a break already.<br /><br />But good news. I got through the whole day, three classes, with neither pen nor pencil. I don't know if that says something about the quality of classes I'm taking or my own skills as a student, but still, who'd have thought?Rosemary Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239709643363937906noreply@blogger.com0