tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37556476798396786482024-03-05T07:23:58.881-08:00Paula's PlethoraInsert catchy tagline herePaulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-34619314731216836912009-06-10T13:21:00.001-07:002009-06-10T13:49:26.455-07:00COFFEE-FLAVORED FLOSS.HELP: The offer still stands--if you know how to run Photoshop (AT ALL) and would be willing to make me a header for this blog, I will send you a surprise/awesome package in the mail. It doesn't have to be fancy at all, I just am finding out more and more everyday that I am painfully incompetent when it comes to web design and, thus, can't do it myself. Boo. <br /><br />WATCH: Star Trek. You are probably un-American if you haven't seen this movie yet. So shut off your computer, put on your shoes, and run, run, run to the nearest cineplex. Commie. <br /><br />LISTEN: "Every Goliath Has Its David"--Boy Least Likely To, off of their newest album "The Law of the Playground". I once heard this British duo described as "what you would imagine your stuffed animals would sound like, if they came to life and formed a band." If that doesn't make you want to download this album, then I don't know what will. Plus they're known for incorporating unusual instruments--from the banjo to children's colored xylophones to washboards--into their music. Awww. <3 <br /><br />BUY: Love coffee, but looking for yet ANOTHER way to incorporate it into your daily routine? Sick of those annoying moments of life when you're in the bathroom, brushing your teeth, and unable to simultaneously sip a hot cup of joe? Well, thanks to the lovely people at Fred Flare, you NEVER HAVE TO EXPERIENCE THIS AGAIN because you can now purchase...coffee flavored floss. We may not have flying cars yet, and all our technology still can't cure the common cold, but dammit we have floss that sorta tastes like coffee. And that's good enough for me. <br /><br />http://www.fredflare.com/customer/product.php?productid=4778&cat=252 <br /><br />La-la-la-la-love, <br />psPaulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-77312083074881842732009-06-01T21:41:00.001-07:002009-06-01T21:49:49.366-07:00Adventures in cleaningThings found while cleaning my room/unpacking<br />(Keep in mind, these are things I chose to bring FROM St. Olaf BACK to my house. For some reason.)<br />-11 Spam recipe cards<br />-1 bottle of laundry detergent that is definitely not mine nor my former roommate's<br />-A diary from when I was 7 years old<br />-A pina colada flavored alto saxophone reed<br />-Yoda Pez Dispenser <br />-BE YOU pink plastic cup (Kate=love)<br />-Robotic Spiderman dog/ipod speakers<br />-4 bottles of hairspray<br />-9 newspapers from Obama's election inauguration<br />-Mini lava lamp<br />-Solved Rubik's Cube<br />-2 bags of Christmas-themed cupcake paper cups<br />-Michael Feldman bobblehead<br />-450 ft white Christmas lights<br />-22 Word of the Week buttons<br />-Green leprechaun hat <br />-Half written letter to Andy<br />-Bag of Math Wizards ribbons<br />-Birdhouse made from hollowed gourd <br />-Silver glitter Elton John sunglasses<br /><br />And I'm not even done yet. Oy vey. <br /><br />Happy Monday-almost-Tuesday, kids. Shoot me a text/email/whatevs. I OFFICIALLY start work tomorrow!<br /><br />peace, love, coffee<br />psPaulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-89820904848711873312009-05-30T10:28:00.001-07:002009-05-30T10:36:06.253-07:00The birth of a blog...The blog...is born. <br /><br />As many of you know, I've been putting the Plethora by the wayside to work on starting a new music blog with my bestie Caitlyn. And, ladies and gentlemen, I am please to announce the birth of...Shouting Out Loud in Capital Letters. SOLICL will feature reviews, mixes, mp3s, podcasts, photos, and a whole lot more. We have one post up, and an mp3/post will be up later day. Check it daily, kiddos.<br /><br />shoutingoutloudincapitalletters.wordpress.com <br /><br /><br />Off to more of the grad parties that have been dominating my social life. Downside: Friend's extended family, my extended family, pinched cheeks, awkwardness, more balloons than ANYONE should have to put up with. Upside: Free cake. So...yeah. It's worth it. <br /><br />Peace, love, LARPERS (right, julia and andy?!) <br />ps<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDml0ilXUl9y-r9GzCnaxLKEcL5jX9XovzgGYjMkD4_kKp6nWH4BO5ldsN6_R80EK5LLXtS3-tiPAkBDsvegj0fDCUyteT3uxgfCxb2Yml7pBEIM4GQWOSs7fN9lx9CuRKn3IiSdgnrNM/s1600-h/IMG_1296.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDml0ilXUl9y-r9GzCnaxLKEcL5jX9XovzgGYjMkD4_kKp6nWH4BO5ldsN6_R80EK5LLXtS3-tiPAkBDsvegj0fDCUyteT3uxgfCxb2Yml7pBEIM4GQWOSs7fN9lx9CuRKn3IiSdgnrNM/s320/IMG_1296.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341672011015756770" /></a>Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-87136189104229176682009-05-25T14:13:00.001-07:002009-05-25T14:18:06.787-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGjaALoH7LBEJFQHhfJpT46ZKnuJg3j8qHIDCu2fhuW-xhlwvaNtrEpPpdAv-d3wglucLb8ic0iiVQcpFzcsbuJpdIOu0923rZgu18F82JgF4BTOYpp8bPOVnkE4vJku5trqwOdv-GhTU/s1600-h/n30002893_30933091_877.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGjaALoH7LBEJFQHhfJpT46ZKnuJg3j8qHIDCu2fhuW-xhlwvaNtrEpPpdAv-d3wglucLb8ic0iiVQcpFzcsbuJpdIOu0923rZgu18F82JgF4BTOYpp8bPOVnkE4vJku5trqwOdv-GhTU/s320/n30002893_30933091_877.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339873446080400594" /></a><br /><br />Um, so cancel that last post about taking a hiatus from the blog. I'm going to continue random and sporadic updates on the Plethora as we continue developments on the upcoming music blog (be. ex. cited.) <br /><br />Until then, some random things: <br /><br />1) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JjVYVQOOJA8 <br />Watch this video. It's so adorable and wonderful and makes me seriously consider going into advertising...someday...<br /><br />2) Next January, I'll be off to Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia, and Italy for a month's worth of international poli-sci-ing it up, yo. (The picture is from Piran, Slovenia.)<br /><br />3) Video chat is the greatest thing to happen since the creation of the interwebs. Hit me up, lovelies. <br /><br />4) I'm not a Twins fan. But Mauer...pretty attractive. Just saying. It makes being dragged to the Metrodome that much more bearable. <br /><br />Peace, love, Boston Red Sox<br />psPaulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-32219881037517934312009-05-07T15:57:00.000-07:002009-05-07T16:05:54.671-07:00Shameless Self Promotion2 posts in 2 days?! Great F. Scott Fitzgerald! <br /><br />But anyway. Here's a shameless self-promotion. (Sorry.)<br /><br />The first issue of the Manitou Messenger that I've ever EDITED is out on newsstands today. It's the last issue of the year, absolutely free, and features the byline "News Editor" under my name. So pick one up, look it over, and keep reading. (If any of you non-Oles want one, let me know and I'll ship it your way!) <br /><br />In other news, Oles, chill out about this campus golf article. It was an opinions, no one is ACTUALLY scared of the St. Olaf "bro's", we understand that underneath all of your popped collars and gelled hair lies future doctors, lawyers, businessmen, teachers, blah, blah, blah. It's called the "opinions" section for a reason. Don't let this get out of control, ala the Bon Iver incident of Lutefest '08, and create a black mark on our school's stellar reputation. <br /><br />Peace and love, <br /><br />psPaulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-45414373893665387742009-05-07T00:28:00.001-07:002009-05-07T00:29:12.679-07:00In Loving Memory of SteveUpon writing this, it’s almost been one year. One year since high school graduation, one year since tearful goodbyes and yearbook signings, and one year since Steven Daskam was taken from us all, at far too young of age. <br /><br />I will be the first to admit that my personal relationship with Steve was a strange one, at best. He served as one of my closest friends, my biggest rival. He was one of my most trusted peers, a thorn in my side, my hero, my villain, and probably the closest thing I’ve ever had—or ever will have—to a brother. We would argue like cats and dogs in class, but mere hours later, he would be the first person I turned to when I had a problem. He was one of those people that was impossible to explain, and even more impossible to forget. We all had different impressions, different relationships, different stories with the man, and we will all remember him in different ways, weaving our stories and memories together, creating almost a security blanket of memories. And, knowing the guy as well as I do (to this day, I find it incredibly difficult to write about Steve in past-tense because—as long as we’re not afraid to talk about it—his spirit doesn’t have to end.), he’s the type of man who would want that. <br /><br />To be honest, there’s little left to say about Steve that hasn’t already been said a hundred and one times. Yes, he was a genius. He was driven. He was funny, he cared about every single one of us, and he was always, always ready and willing to lend a helping hand. But it’s the little things that seem to stick with me most—the way his entire face crinkled up when he laughed, his weird habit of referring to authority figures by their first names…but only behind their back. It was the way he could figure out exactly how to push someone’s buttons and do that until they were just about to completely blow up at him, and then laugh, pat them on the back, and all would be forgiven. It was the way he would hop from foot to foot whenever he got nervous, which made me even MORE nervous. It was the way he flipped through cook-books, noting recipes he HAD to try (even though, to this day, I doubt he’s ever set foot in a kitchen.) He was brilliant, he was bossy, he was hilarious, he was stubborn, and he was truly one of the most unique individuals I’ve ever met. And, through it all, he was loved. By every single one of us. <br /><br />Even a year later, the events of Steve’s death are still incredibly vivid. Every late-night phone call serves as a reminder of the call that brought the news, changing my life forever. Occasionally, I can still feel the burn in my eyes, reminding me of that horrible feeling when you’ve literally cried out all you have, and you still need to cry more. And, more often than I’d like, I still get that empty feeling in the pit of my stomach when I realize that, however awful as it is, there are still some problems that literally nobody can fix. My emotions associated with Steve aren’t unusual—they’re something I’m sure every single member of the tiny FCHS student body deals with on a regular basis. And please don’t think I’m writing this for a second to belittle you, to elevate my feelings above the rest. I’m writing it so that we can remember, so that we can reflect on truly what a blessing it was to know this man. We’ve all lost at least one thing in the process of grieving—it’s important that the one thing we don’t lose is the memory of Steve. <br /><br /> There are so many clichés that we were all told, again and again, after Steve’s passing. The one that sticks out most now is “time heals all wounds”. It’s not true. Wounds don’t heal. They scab, they scar, and they stay on you, serving as painful reminders of the past. Sometimes, the scar is all you can focus on, and no matter what you do it won’t go away. But other times, the scar is nothing but a memory, a story, a part of you. And this is what we must strive for Steve to be. <br /><br />With love, with respect, with fondness to my classmates, to my schoolmates, and to everyone who ever got to encounter Steve. You are all truly blessed, and filled his life with so much love. Each and every one of you contributed to his happiness, and the wonderful, brief life he lived. <br /><br />And Steve, if you’re reading this, I love you. No more words are needed.Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-85696083569473942252009-04-27T00:16:00.000-07:002009-04-27T00:56:05.216-07:00Lessons LearnedIn just under 3 weeks, I will no longer be a first year at St. Olaf College. Upon realizing this, I created an extensive list in my journal (which is mostly just a slew of inside jokes, wrongly placed newspaper notes, French verb practice, and interesting conversations) of things I've learned in college. While I now know more about Abraham Lincoln, Machiavelli, French ANYTHING, and the covenants of the bible than I'd ever care to, I also feel like I've learned a few things worth putting up on here, if only for my own benefit/sanity. <br /><br />1) For the most part, I love people. And, if pressed, I would probably define myself as a "people-person". However, human beings, for a lot of the time, really suck. They're awful, they lie, they manipulate, they gossip, and they let you down again and again and again. But, every so often, you'll find an exception to this rule. And it's <span style="font-weight:bold;">these<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span> people that make it all worthwhile. So love them, let them love you, and everything else will fall into place. <br /><br />2) Every. Single. Thing. happens for a reason. I've been living with a hippie for the past year (love.) and--besides the knowledge that I'm horrible with plants, that sometimes (supposedly) primal noises are apparently needed to alleviate stress--she's taught me that absolutely every little thing happens for some greater purpose. And, although the first or second dozen times she told me this I just laughed it off, she's totally right. Every disaster along the way, every earth-shattering piece of drama, every break-up, every failed test, every fight, EVERYTHING happens for some greater purpose. So wallow in self-pity, vent to your bestie, and move on. You'll understand later. <br /><br />3) Apparently, itunes has this thing called "shared libraries", allowing everyone in your general vicinity to see your music. This can be either a very good thing (instant coolness), or a very, very bad thing (fact: very few people want to chill with the guy who listens to nothing but bad hip-hop and Nickleback. Actually, on second thought, there are some people who would. And most of them live in my dorm...) As the girl who has college a capella and 80's one-hit wonders interspersed with her indie/alt rock, I learned the hard way to make sure you "unshare" your library. (Yes, never be ashamed of who you are, blah, blah, blah. But somethings are better left a mystery.) <br /><br />4) Staying up for literally days on end may SEEM like a great idea at the time but, I promise you, it's not. You--and your sleeping schedule--will pay dearly for it. (And it explains why this is being written at 3:00 am on a Monday morning.)<br /><br />5) Sometimes, your closest friends are the ones who live the furthest away. Although there's amazing people on the St. Olaf campus--people who I am ridiculously happy to spend my every waking moment with--there's also a reason why I've kept in contact with so many people who live far away: I love them. Dearly. Which explains why I aim with Julia every single morning, why I text Katie whenever anything even remotely interesting happens (and expect her to do the same), why I run straight to Caitlyn the second I need advice/analyzation/someone to talk to about ANYTHING, and why I routinely talk to Kelley for hours a night. So the lesson here is, as difficult as it may be to maintain a long-distance friendship, it's always worth it. <br /><br />6) Don't mess with the Caf ladies. They will find you. And make the rest of your meals for the duration of your years at school awkward/scary as heck. <br /><br />7) You will mess up. And people will talk about you. And it sucks, and you'll want to transfer and just completely escape everything. But, as dire as the situation may seem, they'll get bored and move on to someone else. And you'll be left a stronger--and probably a more interesting--person. (This one's probably especially true at a small school like Olaf, where people literally at times have nothing to do but homework, Facebook, and gossiping. And usually a combination of them all.)<br /><br />8) EVERYTHING you do will somehow lead to a Harry Potter reference. Maybe it's Olaf's uncanny similarities to Hogwarts (Fact #1: We're not freshmen, we're "first years". Fact #2: All dorms fit perfectly into the Hogwarts houses.), maybe it's simply because we all grew up right alongside Harry and the gang. Either way, I strongly recommend brushing up on your HP trivia before college. You'll definitely need it.Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-16986917013424834962009-04-23T17:24:00.000-07:002009-04-23T17:29:28.175-07:00The World's Best Break-Up Songs, pt 1.As two of the most cynical people to ever survive southeastern Minnesota/theater camp/driver’s training class, we have long been compiling playlist after playlist of songs about failed relationships. (Fact: Caitlyn’s personal motto is “Every single relationship ends. Ever. So whatever you do, it doesn’t matter. You were doomed from the start.” Paula, on the other hand, simply doesn’t believe the male genders exists and are actually a myth, much like unicorns and El Chupacabra. Therefore, it’s impossible to ever get hurt, because one can’t be broken-hearted by a figment of rumors and urban legends.) So it’s only logical that we spend our spare time compiling the best break-up songs ever. Over the next week or so, we’ll be posting our list up here on Paula’s blog. (And we’re going to attempt, someday, to actually put MP3’s of the songs up with them. Yessss.) <br /><br />So go dig out your pint of Ben and Jerry’s, crawl under the covers, and blast these songs from your itunes. You’ll feel better after, we swear. <br /><br />1) I Can’t Make You Love Me (Cover)—Denison Witmer <br />C-It’s the epitome of pain, because when you break up, you just want to sit in a dark room and listen to painnn. It’s so excessive—so overdone, so tortured, so depressing, and so perfect. It reminds me of this afternoon 2 weeks after a break-up when I had taken a nap because I was so depressed and I woke up and could just feeeeeeel the dispair in the room. It’s right in that point when you’re clinging to depression, because that’s all you have left of a relationship. At this point, you SHOULD be getting over him, but you can’t because you’re too focused on how sad you feel. THAT is what this song is. <br /><br />P—YES. This song is so emo, it hurts. Also, Caitlyn, that leads to an interesting question. Do we listen to break-up songs to help us get over the jerk, or do we listen to them to cling to the pain? Hmmm…<br /><br />2) Dog Problems—The Format <br />P—Best break-up line ever—“B is for believing you’d always be here for me/E is for everything, even when we’d see it though/C, C is for seeing through you, you are a fake which brings me to A, because, because you always run awayyyyy”. It really helps if you yell that as loudly and angsty as possible. Plus, Nate Ruess wrote the entire album of “Dog Problems” to get over his girlfriend. So there is literally not a better soundtrack to your own personal break-up. Ever. \<br /><br />C—Plus, who doesn’t want a break-up song that has a full brass band behind it?<br /><br />3) That’s It, I Quit, I’m Moving On—Adele <br />C—It’s so easy. And vindicating. It’s exactly what you want the guy to see in you, whether or not it’s true. Even if you’re spending your days in your room crying on the floor, all you want him to feel emanating from you is “That’s it. I quit. I’m moving on.” So you wear your best clothes, do your hair perfectly, and hit on all his friends. =) <br /><br />P—Exactly. I think this song is for the moment when you realize the guy you’re with actually really, really sucks. And you have no choice but to break it off, regret that you wasted three months of your life on him, and delete the number from your phone.<br /><br />4) Testament to Youth In Verse—New Pornographers<br />P—For some reason, this was THE SONG of my last break-up, even though it has more to do with the radio than with relationships. Maybe it was the kick-arse drums, the “No, No, No, No, No” chorus, or the brilliant line “When You Play like a fool/then like a fool you get played with” (which, I’ll admit, was my Facebook status for an embarrassingly long time.) Seriously. Turn on this song, walk to the place that you KNOW you will see him at, and I promise that you will feel like a vindictive character from a lame romantic comedy. <br /><br />C—“Testament”, I feel, is kind of like your sassy best friend who just won't take your moping anymore. Its like "Seriously? This guy was a douche and you fell for it. So feel like a fool, accept it, and get over it."<br /><br />(<span style="font-style:italic;">The World's Best Break-Up Songs</span> will continue to be posted sporadically throughout the next week)Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-40195431276852716852009-04-19T20:06:00.001-07:002009-04-19T20:15:01.486-07:00By the flagpole. 3 o'clock. Be there.Why yes, I just fought a man in an effort to defend my Anderson Cooper. That actually happened. With fists.<br /><br />Happy Sunday, kids!Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-29761421884329534202009-04-18T15:22:00.000-07:002009-04-18T22:51:00.006-07:00To Squiggles BennetDear Squggles Bennet, <br /><br />We're leaving school. Both of us. We're dropping out, moving to the Pacific Northwest, and buying a small-time newspaper. And we'll spend all of our days selling ads and creating layouts and reporting on insignificant events like school board meetings and quilt shows (I've worked from tiny newspapers. Those are basically the only stories you get.) Then we'll walk around town and make fun of the other dogs/the people who aren't us, and we'll tweet about their awfulness. And we'll live in a tiny house on the beach--just me and you and Ernie. And we'll turn most of the rooms into guest rooms so Free Spirits (real and honorary) can drop by and visit for however they'd like. Our refrigerator will be stocked with Voss and Polaroid film (because it needs to be refrigerated) and Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia ice cream. <br /><br />And we will no longer have to deal with shoddy college journalism, stupid dormitory rumors, dropped cell phone calls nightly, or awful long distance friendships. It will be epic. And amazing. <br /><br />I love you! <br />PaulaPaulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-80285008916140150402009-04-03T14:55:00.000-07:002009-04-03T15:38:33.808-07:00"WHAT THE HILL?!?!?!?!"The Playlist from the April 3, 2009 episode of "What the Hill?" <br />*Special thanks to Katie and Chris for their contributions to this week's show!<br /><br />This is the show that made history, ladies and gents. Gus and I broke the universal record for "number of times inncorectly saying the word 'galaptosaurus' in one minute". It's legitimate, and we're famous now. We'd like to thank the little people. <br /><br />1) What I Want is a Proper Cup of Coffee--Trout Fishing in America<br />2) Bohemian Rhapsody--Queen<br />3) Nothing to Worry About--Peter Bjorn and John<br />4) Zero--Yeah Yeah Yeahs<br />5) Little Pieces--Gomez<br />6) Violet Hill--Coldplay<br />7) Say--John Mayer<br />8) Make it Rain--Fat Joe featuring Lil' Wayne<br />9) Rebirth of Slick (Cool Like Dat)--Digable Planets<br />10) Billy Brown--MIKA<br />11) Good Day--Jukebox the Ghost<br />12) Closing Time (Dedicated to Katie Lannan)--Semisonic<br />13) Furr--Blitzen Trapper<br /><br />Note: You can listen to "What the Hill? With Gus, Dave, and Paula" every Friday at 5 pm (CT) at www.stolaf.edu/orgs/ksto .WTH? brings you a weekly infusion indie/alt/classical/showtunes/a capella/Neil Diamond/folk/comedy/Indian instrumentals/goth punk-rock/coffee related ditties/singalongs/terrible hip-hop/Disney pop hits/all-around awesomenessPaulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-62577320564012640752009-03-10T13:04:00.000-07:002009-03-10T13:15:22.645-07:00Free Spirits to the Rescue??Dear Free Spirits, oh loves of my life, <br /><br />Next Tuesday, I have an interview at the Rochester Post-Bulletin for an internship this summer. (ack!) I recently received an email warning me to prepare for a "short reporter's test". However--despite my best efforts on google--I have no idea what this is. So, if you have ANY idea, please, please, please give me a jingle/comment/email/text/WHATEVER!<br /><br />I have, however, been heavily preparing for the normal interview part of the process. Not only do I know that the Rochester Post and the Rochester Bulletin combined to (cleverly) form the "Rochester Post Bulletin" in 1925, but I am practicing VERY hard to not call Adrianna Huffington the b-word at any time during the process. (No promises though. Seriously, who completely blows off an interview with a COLLEGE student?!)<br /><br /><3 from the land of way too many freaking lakes, <br /><br />psPaulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-83628527526841091062009-02-24T12:42:00.000-08:002009-02-24T12:45:54.550-08:0048 Minutes and Counting"I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by."--Douglas Adams. <div><br /></div><div>Article on the campus restaurant extending it's hours due in 48 minutes. </div><div><br /></div><div>Word count needed: 750 </div><div>Word count accomplished thus far: 112 </div><div><br /></div><div>It's times like these that I fail to remember why I'm dedicating my life to this industry...<br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-88229154446143872672009-02-02T11:00:00.000-08:002009-02-02T15:02:36.132-08:00Facebook, Pizza, and CocaineFor some reason, on Facebook's addictive (and freakishly unaccurate) "Compare People" application, I have received a record <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">0 </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">votes on the "Who Would Make a Better Mother" category. This shocked and appalled me. I mean, I work in a <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">daycare</span> (occasionally). I know I'm immature and forgetful sometimes (okay, a lot), but if BRITNEY SPEARS has 2 kids, there's no way in heck I deserved that title. </span></span><div><br /></div><div>But then I remembered my blog. My poor little neglected blog. And suddenly...I agreed with my ranking. So, to all of you out in blog-o-land, I sincerely apologize for my irresponsible and inattentive ways. I promise I'll do better next time. (Although, for the record, I'm also 148th in the "Who Smells Nicer" category sooo...)</div><div><br /></div><div>In other news...I got in the most ridiculous political argument of my ENTIRE life the other day. And I've been in some ridiculous political arguments. (I'm a polysci major. It's part of the job description.) To really get the full craziness of the situation, close your eyes for a second, and imagine you're me. It's 2:30 the morning of the day before interim finals. You're so tired that you're borderline delirious, you're covered in lint from your Red Sox blanket and mango frutista spillage, and you can't shake the lingering scent of stale pizza and cheap alcohol that comes with living in Hoyme. As you shut down your shiny new MacBook Pro and prepare to finally stumble back from the dorm lounge to your room, the biggest ladies-man in the building/campus sidles up beside you and starts rambling on and on about his many drunken (and mostly illegal) antics. Just as you begin walking away from the guy, he spits out this doozy of a political theory: </div><div><br /></div><div>"I think the government should legalize cocaine"</div><div><br /></div><div>And with that, he tottered away, off to share his bold (read: batcrap crazy) ideas for governmental policies with someone else--and left me, standing alone in the dorm lobby, puzzled, flabbergasted, shocked, and definitely no longer thinking of sleep.</div>Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-51493413453168227292009-01-08T17:29:00.000-08:002009-01-08T17:39:27.780-08:00"What the Hill?"Ladies and gentlemen, I have a surprise for you all: <div><br /></div><div>"What the Hill?" will now be airing TWICE A WEEK! </div><div>Thursdays at 8:00 pm (CT) and Fridays at 5:00 pm (CT). So be sure to turn in, because you won't want to miss even one action-packed second. </div><div><br /></div><div>Remember, you can listen online at </div><div>http://www.stolaf.edu/orgs/ksto </div><div>AND check out our previous shows at whatthehill.wordpress.com<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Peace and love, </div><div>Paula K.</div><div>(On behalf of myself and my co-hosts, Gus and Dave)</div>Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-31056477128303805652008-12-29T21:24:00.000-08:002008-12-29T21:29:35.555-08:00(Insert Clever Title Here)I miss school. <div><br /></div><div>Never in my life did I think I would type those three words. But I do miss it. Severely. Funny what college can do to you. </div>Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-82978352740120981312008-12-26T21:30:00.000-08:002008-12-26T21:41:57.038-08:00So my New Year's Resolution is starting a few days early: I'm blogging everyday, biznatches. Even if it's meaningless garbage that should be thought and never actually typed for the entire internet (or as Gus calls it, "the interwebs"), it'll go on here. Sidenote--How many times am I actually going to swear to blog more before I actually DO?!<div><br /></div><div>Christmas was good. Very...Christmas-y. But the truth is, I have never in my life been MORE ready for the season to end. Putting away the tree, sealing up the boxes stuffed with animatronic singing Santas, taking down the mistletoe...for the first time in my life, I was more excited to take everything DOWN than to put it up and enjoy the glory of the "happiest time of year". So what exactly does this mean? That I'm turning into the 21st century's pastier version of the Grinch? Do I need the infamous three spirits of "A Christmas Carol" to visit me in my sleep and remind me that the season lives in our hearts blah blah blah? Is it just a matter of days before my own Clarence the angel ascends from the heavens to set me back on the right path? Or have I simply outgrown my childhood--and Christmas is going the way of Barbie dreamhouses and plastic dinosaurs? Does it have something to do with me now being in college, and having to be so focused on THAT, that the holidays are here and gone before it really has a chance to seek in? And, even more importantly, am I getting too self-inquisitive for my own good? Yikes. </div>Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-30950743470741061612008-11-26T09:06:00.001-08:002008-11-26T09:06:17.747-08:00Excuses, excuses...In case you didn't year, Barack won the election.<br /><br />What was I doing in between that time and now?<br /><br />Reading, sleeping, studying, dancing, breathing, kissing, writing, essaying, shopping, sledding, running, walking, biking, video-gaming, dressing up, dressing down, analyzing Alexis de Toqueville, hating Ben Franklin, being punished, being praised, debating, deciding, giving up, giving in, creating, destroying, target-running, soda-spilling, radio-show-hosting, facebooking, sipping coffee, spilling tea, talking, listening, Um Ya Ya-ing, reconnecting with old friends, disconnecting from others, quoting, joking, laughing, living.<br /><br />In other words...everything BUT blogging. But, due to pressure from the FREE SPIRIT NETWORK (namely Kelley. =) I have returned. And I will ne'er leave you alone again, dear blog.<br /><br />But now I am HOME...and it's kind of a weird experience. This entire past week, I have been counting the nano-seconds till I could escape the homework, the stress, the drama, etc., and just chill at home. But now that I'm here...I kinda can't wait to get back. I haven't stopped talking to my friends from school since 15 minutes into the drive back to P-town. Could it be that St. Olaf is my home now? Or maybe I'm <span style="font-style: italic;">addicted</span> to the constant drama, pressure, energy, and amazing-ness of college. Or perhaps I've just been listening to FAR too many "This American Life" episodes, making me far too introspective and reflective for my own good...<br /><br />In other news, check out the Free Spirit NETWORK! It's <span style="font-style: italic;">almost </span>as amazing as the Free Spirits themselves:<br />http://www.freespiritnetwork.atzend.comPaulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-30783715375023410542008-11-26T08:37:00.001-08:002008-11-26T09:30:51.131-08:00Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-58793186704476011792008-11-03T10:03:00.001-08:002008-11-03T10:03:12.160-08:00Yes We Can.Tomorrow's the day we've been waiting for for over 2 years. And I wanted to put this out there for everyone to read. It's Barack Obama concession speech from the New Hampshire Primary on January 8, 2008, and it literally gives me chills every time I read/hear it, and actually inspired me to get involved and volunteer with the Obama campaign. No matter who you're supporting--be it Barack, McCain, Ralph Nader, Ron Paul, whoever--this speech is amazing.<br /><br />Get out and vote tomorrow, inspire others to do the same, and remember-- "Yes We Can".<br /><br />-Paula<br /><br />"A few weeks ago, no one imagined that we’d have accomplished what we did here tonight. For most of this campaign, we were far behind, and we always knew our climb would be steep.<br /><br />But in record numbers, you came out and spoke up for change. And with your voices and your votes, you made it clear that at this moment – in this election – there is something happening in America.<br /><br />There is something happening when men and women in Des Moines and Davenport; in Lebanon and Concord come out in the snows of January to wait in lines that stretch block after block because they believe in what this country can be.<br /><br />There is something happening when Americans who are young in age and in spirit – who have never before participated in politics – turn out in numbers we’ve never seen because they know in their hearts that this time must be different.<br /><br />There is something happening when people vote not just for the party they belong to but the hopes they hold in common – that whether we are rich or poor; black or white; Latino or Asian; whether we hail from Iowa or New Hampshire, Nevada or South Carolina, we are ready to take this country in a fundamentally new direction. That is what’s happening in America right now. Change is what’s happening in America.<br /><br />You can be the new majority who can lead this nation out of a long political darkness – Democrats, Independents and Republicans who are tired of the division and distraction that has clouded Washington; who know that we can disagree without being disagreeable; who understand that if we mobilize our voices to challenge the money and influence that’s stood in our way and challenge ourselves to reach for something better, there’s no problem we can’t solve – no destiny we cannot fulfill.<br /><br />Our new American majority can end the outrage of unaffordable, unavailable health care in our time. We can bring doctors and patients; workers and businesses, Democrats and Republicans together; and we can tell the drug and insurance industry that while they’ll get a seat at the table, they don’t get to buy every chair. Not this time. Not now.<br /><br />Our new majority can end the tax breaks for corporations that ship our jobs overseas and put a middle-class tax cut into the pockets of the working Americans who deserve it.<br /><br />We can stop sending our children to schools with corridors of shame and start putting them on a pathway to success. We can stop talking about how great teachers are and start rewarding them for their greatness. We can do this with our new majority.<br /><br />We can harness the ingenuity of farmers and scientists; citizens and entrepreneurs to free this nation from the tyranny of oil and save our planet from a point of no return.<br /><br />And when I am President, we will end this war in Iraq and bring our troops home; we will finish the job against al Qaeda in Afghanistan; we will care for our veterans; we will restore our moral standing in the world; and we will never use 9/11 as a way to scare up votes, because it is not a tactic to win an election, it is a challenge that should unite America and the world against the common threats of the twenty-first century: terrorism and nuclear weapons; climate change and poverty; genocide and disease.<br /><br />All of the candidates in this race share these goals. All have good ideas. And all are patriots who serve this country honorably.<br /><br />But the reason our campaign has always been different is because it’s not just about what I will do as President, it’s also about what you, the people who love this country, can do to change it.<br /><br />That’s why tonight belongs to you. It belongs to the organizers and the volunteers and the staff who believed in our improbable journey and rallied so many others to join.<br /><br />We know the battle ahead will be long, but always remember that no matter what obstacles stand in our way, nothing can withstand the power of millions of voices calling for change.<br />We have been told we cannot do this by a chorus of cynics who will only grow louder and more dissonant in the weeks to come. We’ve been asked to pause for a reality check. We’ve been warned against offering the people of this nation false hope.<br /><br />But in the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope. For when we have faced down impossible odds; when we’ve been told that we’re not ready, or that we shouldn’t try, or that we can’t, generations of Americans have responded with a simple creed that sums up the spirit of a people.<br /><br />Yes we can.<br /><br />It was a creed written into the founding documents that declared the destiny of a nation.<br /><br />Yes we can.<br /><br />It was whispered by slaves and abolitionists as they blazed a trail toward freedom through the darkest of nights.<br /><br />Yes we can.<br /><br />It was sung by immigrants as they struck out from distant shores and pioneers who pushed westward against an unforgiving wilderness.<br /><br />Yes we can.<br /><br />It was the call of workers who organized; women who reached for the ballot; a President who chose the moon as our new frontier; and a King who took us to the mountaintop and pointed the way to the Promised Land.<br /><br />Yes we can to justice and equality. Yes we can to opportunity and prosperity. Yes we can heal this nation. Yes we can repair this world. Yes we can.<br /><br />And so tomorrow, as we take this campaign South and West; as we learn that the struggles of the textile worker in Spartanburg are not so different than the plight of the dishwasher in Las Vegas; that the hopes of the little girl who goes to a crumbling school in Dillon are the same as the dreams of the boy who learns on the streets of LA; we will remember that there is something happening in America; that we are not as divided as our politics suggests; that we are one people; we are one nation; and together, we will begin the next great chapter in America’s story with three words that will ring from coast to coast; from sea to shining sea – Yes. We. Can."<br /><br />-Barack Obama<br />January 8, 2008Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-58386069380096115242008-10-29T22:15:00.000-07:002008-10-29T22:26:05.700-07:00A Date With Huffington?I had been counting the SECONDS until I got to see Arianna Huffington, co-founder/editor-in-chief of the Huffington Post. And when I found out that NOT ONLY was she coming to my school, but I was going to get to interview her for the Manitou Messenger?! Well, I almost passed out.<br /><br />After spending the day diligently writing down/thinking up/frantically asking Free Spirits ideas for questions, I was ready. So I got to place where the interview was going to, for lack of better words, "go down". And I waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, someone working there told me that Huffington wasn't showing up...because it "just wasn't worth her time". Ouch. Nevermind that it was for 10 minutes, between dinner and her speech, and the school was paying her FOURTY-THOUSAND DOLLARS. This, needless to say, put a bitter taste in my mouth towards the outspoken liberal blogger, her Greek accent, and her shellacked hair. (Although, for the record, I'll still probably read the blog. Compulsively.)<br /><br />I miss Tim Russert.Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-2349417827449733182008-10-22T10:30:00.000-07:002008-10-22T10:41:23.363-07:00L is for the way you LOOK at me...Things I love this week:<br /><br />1) "Volume 1" by She and Him. Zooey Deschanel and M. Ward singing folky type songs. On our epic road trip (we're heading down south either this summer or the next to check out Elvis's homeland), this WILL be blasted from the car speakers over and over and over again.<br /><br />2) My black tights. I've had to limit myself to how often I can wear these, they're just THAT perfect. And only $5 at Target. Thrifty AND stylish.<br /><br />3) "Naked Economics" by Charles Wheelan. This book makes the world's most boring science (economics is a science, right?) pretty darn awesome. Plus there's a naked man on the cover. Speaking of which...<br /><br />4) Streaking. While I have not gone myself (Thank God.), recent streakers from Kitt (who shall go unnamed) have given us all something to giggle about over and over and over again these past few days.<br /><br />5) This quote: "Be careful. Journalism is more addictive than crack cocaine. Your life can get out of balance."--Dan Rather. Oh Dan, I love you.Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-15447358176645530192008-10-21T08:02:00.000-07:002008-10-21T08:06:02.971-07:00And now, the moment you've all been waiting for...I'm apparently really, really bad at actually updating blogs. Ugh.<br /><br />HOWEVER..."What the Hill?" FINALLY has podcasts.<br /><br />You can download them here:<br />http://whatthehill.wordpress.com/<br /><br />There's only 2 episodes up so far--one with Alana and Nathan filling in for Dave and myself, and last week's. Go check them out NOW.<br /><br />-PaulaPaulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-69811967393784265042008-10-15T11:03:00.000-07:002008-10-15T11:10:42.271-07:00Adventures with the Democratic Party: How We Snuck Into an Obama Press Booth, Met the World’s Tallest Man, and Became a Matter of National SecurityI wrote the following piece on Monday's adventure breaking into the press booth at the Michelle Obama speech/rally. So if you're absolutely desperate to hear all about sneaking into a high security backstage area and getting hunted down by the Secret Service, here's all 1,500+ words. (Sorry.)<br /><br /><span lang="EN"><span style="font-weight: bold;"> Adventures with the Democratic Party: How We Snuck Into an Obama Press Booth, Met the World’s Tallest Man, and Became a Matter of National Security</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"> By Paula S.</span><br /> For the first time in our many adventures together, my friend Caitlin and I were ready, prepared, and on time for something. We’d been planning for days to go to the Obama Rally in Rochester, Minnesota, featuring Barack’s wife Michelle as the guest speaker. We knew there were no bags allowed in the arena. We had left our signs and banners at home. And our tickets were nestled safe and sound in our pockets. We arrived early, and decided to go out for coffee for 15 minutes before dropping our stuff off in her car and being among the first in line for the speech. However, the coffee run ended up taking us a little under an hour, and when we finally made it back to the arena--bags in hand, of course--we found ourselves behind 1,500 other loyal Obama supporters. We griped and lamented about the terrible view we were sure to have, when a neon-yellow sign caught my eye.<br /><br /><b> </b> The sign read “Press, This Way” with an arrow pointing to the back of the building. I peaked into my bag, and realized I had brought my camera, tape recorder, and reporter’s notebook. (As Caitlin later described “You looked just like the stereotypical reporter--all you were missing was the fedora with the press badge sticking out.”)<br /><br /> “We’re going to sneak back there,” I told Caitlin.<br /><br /> “What? No. We can’t. That’s insane. We don’t have credentials. Heck, we’re not even here to report on this. There’s no way they’ll let us through.”<br /><br /> “Caitlin, we’re going to be stuck behind a thousand and a half people. We <b>have </b>to try.” I proceeded to grab her arm, pulling her out of line, past the “Stay Off the Grass” signs, across the neatly manicured lawn (I figured if we were already breaking one rule, we might as well break more) and around the building to the press table.<br /><br /> It was then that I started getting a little nervous. It was one thing trying to sneak your way to the backstage of a Tonic-Sol-Fa concert by confidently assuring them you’re with the press--it’s completely different when you’re trying to sneak back into a place that would be crawling with cops, security, and secret service agents of every sort. I took a deep breath, and summoned up my inner Al Neuharth/Kelley Robinson/Anderson Cooper/Betty Bayee (four of my favorite journalists.). Neuharth’s famous words “Don’t stand quietly at the back of the line--you have to push your way to the front” (or something along those lines) rang through my head as I marched up to the table.<br /><br /> “Is this were we get our press passes?” I managed to somewhat-confidently ask the two women in charge.<br /><br /> They looked me up and down suspiciously (Caitlin wisely stood off to the side, ensuring I would be the one to get the brunt of the punishment if we were caught.) “What newspaper are you with?” They clearly did not believe I was an actual member of the media--I think it was my silver, glittery ballet flats that did it.<br /><br /> “U--,” I paused. I was about to say ‘USA Today”, but I realized if I said it, all chances we had were down the drain. “The Fillmore County Journal,” I said, referring to the newspaper that I did my internship at this summer. “And the Manitou Messenger. And the Falcon Informer,” I rattled off all the newspapers I had written for in the last six months, even though I had graduated from high school--and the latter newspaper--four and a half months ago. I figured, if worse came to worse, <i>someone</i> from one of these papers was bound to vouch that I was a legitimate member of the press.<br /><br /> The ladies seemed to believe me, because they then asked for my press credentials--something I very much did not have. But, refusing to turn back after we got this far (and partially because I was already nervous about what would happen to us if we got caught trying to do this), I shrugged my shoulders.<br /><br /> “I just found out I was covering this. My boss is really unorganized. I thought he called ahead…?” I bit my lip and lifted up my Free Spirit notebook, hoping that would be good enough for them.<br /><br /> The women sighed. “Let me just see your I.D. then,” one of them said. “You can sign in.”<br />If I seemed professional before, it was all lost the second I squealed and said “You mean we’re in?” They nodded. I grinned and signed in, grabbing my official Obama press badge and waited for Caitlin to get registered (She managed to get in by just shrugging and saying “I’m with her.”)<br /><br /> We waltzed in the building, through the barriers, and into the official press restrooms where we shut the door, checked under the stalls to make sure there was no one else in there, and immediately began jumping up and down, singing “We’re the press, we’re the press!” We then texted and called anyone we thought would be impressed by our finagling, before calmly walking out, through the double doors, and into the press booth.<br /><br /> Finally, after an hour and 15 minutes of waiting in the press area just a few yards away from the podium, the rally started. While the speakers enthusiastically pumped up the crowd (Who took it upon themselves to start chants of “O-bam-a!” and “Fired up! Ready to go!”…often yelled above the actual speakers themselves.), Somehow, my friend James managed to sneak through and stand by us, and the three of us snapped pictures, recorded, and jotted down notes with the best of them.<br /><br /> Michelle Obama came out, and proved to be just as inspiring and charismatic as her husband. “We have some choices to make in this election. And as a mother, a daughter, and a wife, I know there’s only ONE candidate who gets it…Barack Obama!” The crowd went nuts at this line, and I saw one of the Obama campaign staffers begin to usher some more important, professional-looking journalists past the little fence blocking off our area and down to Michelle’s feet at the podium. I grabbed my camera and started following them, but one of the other staffers grabbed me before I made it past the fence. “Absolutely not,” she hissed. I grumbled and moped back to my previous spot, glaring at my newfound enemy the entire time.<br />Finally, the rally ended. As those closest to the podium rushed up to meet Michelle, I glanced over to make sure the evil staffer had her back turned, and I shimmied over the fence (Actually, due to my highly un-athletic abilities, it wasn’t really shimmying. It was more awkwardly-hoisting myself over), and I dashed into the crowd, insistent on getting Michelle to answer at least one question. I found the world’s tallest man (yes. He was there. And yes--he was VERY easy to spot.) and practically glued myself to the side of him, knowing that she would definitely make a special effort to shake his hand.<br /><br /> As I waited to meet Michelle, I glanced back at my friends, only to see a look of horror on James’s face, and my enemy-staffer animatedly talking to some nearby secret service agents. I squeezed myself further into the crowd, managed to brush my hand against Michelle’s arm (I didn’t actually shake it. But it was enough to get my germs on her, and that’s all that really matters), and I climbed over a row of chairs, waiting for James and Caitlin to find me.<br /> “Paula!” James yelled, “Paula, what were you doing?! The staff lady thought you were going to attack her or question her or something! You broke through that fence and she ran up to the secret service and told them to watch you! They thought you were a security threat!”<br />I gulped, grabbed James, and drug him deeper into the crowd. I was too nervous to go back to our original spot, fearing that I was officially a matter of national security. As the crowd started to thin out, and Caitlin found out that none of the Obama staff, volunteers, or speakers were allowed to talk to the press, I anxiously pushed my posse ahead. “We NEED to go now,” I hissed. Even though I was pretty sure I was off the hook, I couldn’t help but imagine a future where I would spend the rest of my life hiding from the Secret Service in a cave somewhere in the Middle East with Kim Jong Il and Osama Bid Laden.<br /><br /> We left the rally feeling inspired, impressed, and a little bit rebellious. And although I would spend the next few day nervous that the secret service would show up at my doorstep to take me to some secret prison reserved for journalists, I was also proud of what we had accomplished that day. We had blatantly broken some rules, and probably a few laws, and managed to make a couple Obama staffers a little scared of us. But, as Cathie Black assured us all at the 2008 Free Spirit Conference, “It’s not about being bad--it’s about being damn good.” And while I don’t think she was referring to making national security a little leery of you, I do think she meant that sometimes you need to shake up the establishment and bend the rules in order to get ahead in life. So get out there, take Ms. Black’s words to heart, and don’t forget to vote November 4. The change we need is just on the horizon. </span>Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3755647679839678648.post-77049254362885398002008-10-15T10:47:00.000-07:002008-10-15T11:01:54.687-07:00Sweet Jesus, We Have a Blog TitleSo I--we, as I begged everyone I know for their help--pondered, brainstormed, and racked our brains for WEEKS trying to think up a blog title. And in the end? I just used the title from the column I used to have. Oh well. Thanks to EVERYONE for their help though! You're all winners in my heart. hahahaha.<br /><br />I guess I should mention a few key things before attempting to dive into the "blogosphere". I'm a first-year (NOT freshman, apparently) at St. Olaf College, and I'm starting a blog to try a different aspect of journalism. (I've been doing newspaper for years and currently co-host a radio show on KSTO called "What the Hill?" every Friday at 5 pm) I'm also starting this thing to keep up with the 2008 Free Spirit Scholars who have been dominating the internet with their musings for months now.<br /><br />Lastly, I will try to post everyday (I hear this gets pretty addicting), but no promises. My record for keeping a journal is one week, so here's hoping this goes better...<br /><br />peace and love<br />paula s.Paulahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094474206024275037noreply@blogger.com1