<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106</id><updated>2011-07-08T05:37:15.431-07:00</updated><category term='awesome'/><title type='text'>Smorgasbord of Boredom...Smorgasboredom</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>34</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-1958606674412226780</id><published>2009-08-22T11:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T12:42:10.959-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Becoming What I Make Fun Of</title><content type='html'>Yeah, Amanda. I capitalized "of" in the title.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, you know how you can make fun of something so much and then you realize that you actually like the ridiculous thing? Story of my life for the past few days.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. I am not a huge fan of Miley Cyrus. I used to make fun of my roommates for watching Hannah Montana and I make fun of my sister for watching her show and liking it even though she watches it because she has a 6 year old daughter. So, I was driving home from my sister's house earlier this morning and Miley's new song titled "Party in the USA" came on and I REALLY LIKE IT!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. All summer long, my teammate named Chris tweeted and twitted or whatever you call it and all summer long I made fun of him and the networking site which is "just another way to stalk other people..." Well...I joined. And within four days, I had a famous person REPLY TO ONE OF MY TWEETS!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Jake Kelley...all around sucker for reality shows. After all he got me hooked on things such as American Idol, RW vs. RR challenges, and now...So You Think You Can Dance...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am a slave.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-1958606674412226780?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/1958606674412226780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=1958606674412226780' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/1958606674412226780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/1958606674412226780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-becoming-what-i-make-fun-of.html' title='I&apos;m Becoming What I Make Fun Of'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-1909170701146277918</id><published>2009-08-19T19:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T20:01:23.907-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This One is for Jenny</title><content type='html'>Jenny Campbell. You are pregnant and I told you I would blog for you, so this is me blogging for you and not incurring the wrath of a prego lady.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, the last time we met I was in a mini-term in January...it's not January anymore...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whoops. I am about to start my second to last semester of college, which you may remember me saying last semester. That's right folks. I am a living, breathing version of the movie &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0107048/"&gt;Groundhog Day&lt;/a&gt;. Only instead of waking up to the same day over and over, every August I wake up to my senior year of college. Somebody end me. Maybe I need to fall in love with Bill Murray...who knows? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-1909170701146277918?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/1909170701146277918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=1909170701146277918' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/1909170701146277918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/1909170701146277918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2009/08/this-one-is-for-jenny.html' title='This One is for Jenny'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-7722900247491957221</id><published>2009-01-12T11:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T11:42:17.057-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mini-Term Numero Deux</title><content type='html'>So, I'm taking another miniterm this week. Another one. This one is Old Testament Survey. My Teacher sounds like a Jamaican &lt;a href="http://media.movieweb.com/news/04.2007/fan.jpg"&gt;Lawrence Fishburne&lt;/a&gt;. He is very passionate about the Word, which makes it awesome when he reads scripture, but alot of it isn't scripture. I really want to be into this class, but it's so boring. Every once in a while, my teacher will point out little pictures of the Gosple in the passages we're reading, and that's really sweet. I did find out a sweet gem of information...I have to write a paper for this class about one of the major prophets, only don't really because I ALREADY DID for another class...I love my life right now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I told you about my new friend? I totally made a new friend at the end of last semester. She's way cool and she does her own design stuff like invitations, cookies and cakes(whaa?), paper mache dummies so that you can pretend to be in class...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-7722900247491957221?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/7722900247491957221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=7722900247491957221' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/7722900247491957221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/7722900247491957221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2009/01/mini-term-numero-deux.html' title='Mini-Term Numero Deux'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-4998370305821090447</id><published>2009-01-07T11:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T11:25:57.904-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Miniterm Teacher Loves Me</title><content type='html'>So, I really don't ever pay attention in this class...I'm either on facebook or gmail chatting with Jake. But for some stinkin' reason, every so often the teacher will ask a detailed question to the class and I totally know the answer! Then I call it our and the teacher gets soooo excited. It's so weird. It's like those people who fall asleep to a song and the next day the know all the words...only I'm sitting in class not listening.  I should have figured this out a LONG time ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can we talk about how tired I am? The answer is no. The answer is no because every time I think that thought, "I am so tired," I think of that bible study I did and Mander's house and hear Beth Moore yell at me for always being tired. I think that the Lord, while sweeping his eyes over the righteous today, saw me and thought, "whoa. she needs a nap." and so in all God's sovereignty and mercy has orchestrated a way for that to happen. I'm getting out of my class three hours early today! So, I will go home, take an hour nap, then go to work until 9:30, then come home and do homework. Sounds like a great day to me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, I need a favor. Somebody, teach me how to flirt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-4998370305821090447?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/4998370305821090447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=4998370305821090447' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/4998370305821090447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/4998370305821090447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-miniterm-teacher-loves-me.html' title='My Miniterm Teacher Loves Me'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-8429525392534340748</id><published>2009-01-06T07:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T07:36:04.084-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Whoops...I Didn't Mean to Take So Long</title><content type='html'>Amanda Jones: Does the "so" in the title need to be un-capitalized? I'm never really sure how that rule works for words other than "and" or "but".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I am definitely taking a miniterm this week. A miniterm can be defined as a week long class from 8am-5pm Monday through Friday in which you earn 3 full credit hours and a sense of stability if you can make it through the entire thing without jumping out the window. Miniterms are so awesome because it takes classes that would make you want to quit college over a semester and compacts them in to classes that make you want to quit college in a week...which really, is better for me, because the less time I have to think about that, the better. Just in case you may be wondering, I now only have two more semesters until I graduate...TWO MORE! When I think about it for too long, I have a tendancy to either start drooling or singing, so I will change the subject now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My class is pretty boring, but the teacher gets really excited about the material, so it's fun to watch her. There is a guy in this class who is actually majoring in the subject and so everytime the teacher asks a question, he literally YELLS out the answer...as if he's not sitting on the front row, right infront of the lady. Good grief, why don't you just ask her out or something. Also, I'm pretty sure that the guy behind me is chatting on facebook because I keep hearing the incoming message sound...and he has bad breath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a new job. I love it. Well, I love the people that I work with and I don't hate it, so I like my job. I work at Best Buy. I work in the media department specializing in mp3 players and gaming consoles. Ask me anything about a PS3 or a zune and I probably know the answer. I love that part...I feel so educated. So, if you need any advice on anything like that, just ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One last nugget of gold for some of you: for those of you who know my aunt Kim, my teacher is her doppleganger.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-8429525392534340748?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/8429525392534340748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=8429525392534340748' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/8429525392534340748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/8429525392534340748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2009/01/whoopsi-didnt-mean-to-take-so-long.html' title='Whoops...I Didn&apos;t Mean to Take So Long'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-3147873222749335991</id><published>2008-09-30T10:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T10:59:14.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The way the approach is turned into an advertising message</title><content type='html'>That is the definition for Execution Style of an Advertising Appeal. At least, that is what my marketing teacher just said.&lt;br /&gt;I still haven't heard back from Starbucks...sad day. Oh well, I'm over it. I applied to be in the sub system for the Irving ISD. We'll see how that goes. They'll probably pull up my high school record and laugh....and then burn my application.  Anyway, I need a job. Bad.&lt;br /&gt;This weekend I am leaving to visit some friends in the East. First I'm flying to Raleigh, NC and then from there I am flying to Nashville, TN.&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend, I got a new car.&lt;br /&gt;I'm on a good weekend roll...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-3147873222749335991?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/3147873222749335991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=3147873222749335991' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/3147873222749335991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/3147873222749335991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2008/09/way-approach-is-turned-into-advertising.html' title='The way the approach is turned into an advertising message'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-2490649904530986072</id><published>2008-09-02T21:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T21:14:25.776-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Day the World Stood Still...Then Celebrated</title><content type='html'>So, I decided to not return to my job that is not really a job. It's pretty awesome to think that after two and a half years of really not working, I won't be working anymore...at least not there. I am currently on the hunt. I hate new jobs. I wish that I could just find one where I didn't have to really learn anything. I also would love to just hang out all day and talk to people. I got some god advice from a friend today. With her advice I think I can hit 50% of my goals. I am going to apply at Starbucks. I know that it will be a heck of a lot to learn, but at least it's coffee...I like coffee. And working there would mean I would get free coffee. We'll see.&lt;br /&gt;So where does that leave me, I wonder...should I change the name of my blog? Or just the tag line? Who knows?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatev.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-2490649904530986072?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/2490649904530986072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=2490649904530986072' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/2490649904530986072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/2490649904530986072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2008/09/day-world-stood-stillthen-celebrated.html' title='The Day the World Stood Still...Then Celebrated'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-6766136602001845122</id><published>2008-08-19T15:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T15:14:10.949-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Months Later...</title><content type='html'>So, I'm home. Home from World Changers and all the other crazy business I've been getting into. I want to talk about something very specific today. Does anyone else in the world hate those plastic storage tubs? I hate them because I can be walking by one with a foot of distance between it and me and still scrape a layer of my leg skin off the side. GAHLY! I hate those things so much. And I am cursed with them for my life because I live with two people who can't seem to find the strength within themselves to throw crap away! No one needs a storage bin full of old jeans that he or she will never wear again!&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I hope to be blogging a little bit more frequent now that I'm home, so yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-6766136602001845122?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/6766136602001845122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=6766136602001845122' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/6766136602001845122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/6766136602001845122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2008/08/three-months-later.html' title='Three Months Later...'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-1785597968026861215</id><published>2008-05-28T13:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T13:15:44.119-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hamsters in T-Shirts</title><content type='html'>So I am at training for World Changers this week. It is so good to be back with the people that share my passion. I love summer staff because it is a group of people who just really love to love each other.  Anywho, I was sitting at lunch with two very good friends who(m) I met last year just laughing and joking around. Of course our conversations ended up focused on a not so pleasant bodily function. Then SOMEHOW I started to share about how my sister and I used to put our hamster in our tucked in shirts and laugh as they ran around in circles...this is something I found out is not so common in most people's childhood...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-1785597968026861215?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/1785597968026861215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=1785597968026861215' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/1785597968026861215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/1785597968026861215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2008/05/hamsters-in-t-shirts.html' title='Hamsters in T-Shirts'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-1122042408105723102</id><published>2008-04-29T10:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T11:08:41.615-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Call Me MacGyver</title><content type='html'>So, I am a stinkin' genius...OK, not really, but sometimes I impress myself. Let me first star out by saying that I usually do not blog on Tuesdays, but yesterday I had a bunch to do and didn't have a chance to share this with you. I am actually in my Marketing class right now...I bet my teacher thinks I am totally typing her every word. Her last name is McNutt, so I think she likes me. Anyway, yesterday I went to sonic to get an ice-cold Dr. Pepper to go with my sandwich and homemade guacamole I brought for lunch that day...don't judge me, but I also ended up getting cheddar-peppers too...DANG! Well, I bought an episode of Family guy off of iTunes and thought it to be a great idea to watch it on my iPod while I ate. The only problem was that I couldn't hold it while I ate. God didn't bless me with enough hands for this... Automatically the MacGyver in me came out. I started to look around me for any kind of material that would allow me to mount my iPod on my steering wheel. Luckily I had a hairband and a screw driver. I took the hairband and strapped it to the steering wheel and used the screw driver as a pin to hold the iPod in place... A PERFECT mounting place for me to watch my favorite television shows from my iPod as I eat my lunch. I was so proud of myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-1122042408105723102?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/1122042408105723102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=1122042408105723102' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/1122042408105723102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/1122042408105723102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2008/04/just-call-me-macgyver.html' title='Just Call Me MacGyver'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-5663193280219936638</id><published>2008-04-25T10:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T10:18:46.465-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BANG! BANG! BANG!</title><content type='html'>So, on my way to work today I was thinking to myself how I should handle today. Should I continue to hate the 45 minutes of lunch time spent with a new co-worker, or should I look at it as an opportunity to create an ally in the workplace? Well, a scone and three shots of espresso later, I concluded that I need to get over myself and deal with it. When I arrived at work, I was told that my co-worker/lunch partner has called in sick. Blessing from the Lord or deterrence from satan? Either way, I will be enjoying my chicken shawarma and side of hummus alone today. For the past seven Fridays (have I told you this?) I have been going to lunch at a Moroccan restaurant down the street from my dentist's office. I love this place because it is a converted 7-11 where my mom used to take me and my sisters to get a Slurpee after we got our teeth cleaned. Anyway, the restaurant is located a stone's throw away from the Irving Islamic Center, and Morocco being a mostly Muslim country, the place is owned and run by muslims. There is always a huge crowd of people there when I go in to order my food. I thought this weird since my lunch break is usually at two and the normal lunch rush is between 11:30 and 1:00. I asked my Muslim-smart friend, Hailee why this was. Apparently, they eat after their midday prayer and since their prayer times go with the sun, in the summer time, their midday prayer gets later and later...cool, yeah? OK, all that to say, I have made good friends with a waitress and a waiter there. They both know my order by heart and as soon as they see me come in, they put it in so the wait is not long. The waitress is so funny. She once told me that everything on the menu could be ordered to go, except the chef...I thought it was hilarious. I love this woman because even though she is very busy when I am there, she makes time to sit and talk to me. The waiter is probably 26 and has braces. He is so shy. I wonder why he chose to wait tables...? I am hopeful that one day I will get enough time with either of them to talk about Jesus. I know that the reason they are so kind to me is probably for the same reason...only reversed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, today is a good day...bossman isn't here...which means I ---ooooh there's a cardinal out the window!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-5663193280219936638?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/5663193280219936638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=5663193280219936638' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/5663193280219936638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/5663193280219936638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2008/04/bang-bang-bang.html' title='BANG! BANG! BANG!'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-1093218380242104927</id><published>2008-04-23T10:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T11:04:55.567-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Smitten...Not the Good Kind</title><content type='html'>So, I think that the Lord is smiting me. So, I am smitten...? Is that how it works? Whatever, God is in a fight with me. My 30-45 minutes of alone time during lunch is all I have working against my brain frying while at work. I need those &lt;a href="http://asandboxgreeting.com/pmorb.jpg"&gt;precious moments&lt;/a&gt; to relax and not have to talk to anyone. But with my awesome luck, the new lady has decided to ask to go with me to lunch everyday. Everyday. Did I mention that she wants to go to lunch with me everyday. Bless her heart (my dad says that if someone says that, they are basically justifying to themselves that whatever they say next (good or awful) is OK), she has no filter in her brain. She is on the company phone, talking to her doctor about how she doesn't understand why her feet are always swollen...because she already had her time of the month. Why can't you wait until a break time and go into the warehouse or your car to to talk to your doctor about things I don't want to know? For crying out loud. She also doesn't understand personal space. I feel like I am constantly having to back away from her...it makes me feel bad because I don't want her to think that I hate to be around her, it's just that I don't like her 3 inches from my face all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One quick note. I have made it my mission to log the time it takes each day for the two girls who go ahead of me to go to lunch. Last week one of them (who writes up the time sheets and turns them into the check company) docked me for 50 minutes rather than just 30...which I was totally gone for 50. But her and her friend are always gone for an hour while Linda and I starve to death waiting for them to get back. An I am positive that they only knock themselves 30 minutes...I'm onto them like whit on rice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-1093218380242104927?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/1093218380242104927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=1093218380242104927' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/1093218380242104927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/1093218380242104927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2008/04/smittennot-good-kind.html' title='Smitten...Not the Good Kind'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-6662220685158584513</id><published>2008-04-14T14:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T14:23:14.478-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two-Legged Scooter</title><content type='html'>So, any normal 22 year-old would look at &lt;a href="http://www.asedeals.com/3900a.jpg"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; and see &lt;a href="http://www.brainydays.co.uk/images/micro-flex-scooter.jpg"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;. . .&lt;br /&gt;ANY 22 year-old.&lt;br /&gt;I don't care how professional you think you are or were at my age, but when you walk by a pallet jack everyday with everything inside of you longing to scoot up and down aisles and aisles of boxes on a two legged scooter, something eventually has got to give. The entire roof gave in today. I was in the back back (not this &lt;a href="http://dealer.webmakerx.net/Images/Picture/2006/December/lg_Red%20Dakota3.jpg"&gt;back back&lt;/a&gt;) of the warehouse all by myself with a pallet jack when I decided that then was the time to see if riding the two legged scooter was all I thought it could be. It was more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The handle to the jack acts as a steering wheel and with the two prongs, it is easier to scoot while still going really fast. With the wind blowing through my hair I think I topped 6 miles per hour. It was so awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to take the opportunity to correct myself. In a previous post I stated that I loved pepridge farm cheese crackers...they are actually &lt;a href="http://graphics.samsclub.com/images/products/0007978325872_LG.jpg"&gt;Austin &lt;/a&gt;Cheddar Cheese Crackers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-6662220685158584513?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/6662220685158584513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=6662220685158584513' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/6662220685158584513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/6662220685158584513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2008/04/two-legged-scooter.html' title='Two-Legged Scooter'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-5808940328417634114</id><published>2008-04-11T14:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T08:03:08.671-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Words</title><content type='html'>So, I'm sitting here right now and all of the other people in this office other than Boss and Ownerman are talking about which words they think are the worst to call another person. Talk about filthy and unprofessional. Now, listen, I have been known to say a bad word or two...or a hundred, but only under two conditions: 1. In the car while someone is being an idiot, or 2. If I think it is funny (which I know stems from my awful pride issue). They are over there like a few drunken sailors. It makes me feel icky. Well, on to more important things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Data has been received. Even better than the cheese cracker being removed wholly, it is HALF NIBBLED! If I had a camera on my phone, I would send you a picture, but I don't. I guess that's the price you pay to have a ridiculously expensive phone...why did I buy it? I don't know...The QWERTY keyboard is nice...I just wish I had hands micro enough to type on it like a real keyboard...only because that would look unbelievably silly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-5808940328417634114?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/5808940328417634114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=5808940328417634114' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/5808940328417634114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/5808940328417634114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2008/04/bad-words.html' title='Bad Words'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-2234087773841236315</id><published>2008-04-09T11:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T11:29:37.288-07:00</updated><title type='text'>10 Second Rule May Not Apply</title><content type='html'>So, I have exciting news. Exciting for me, sad for you, my one or two readers. I put in my two weeker. That's right...well, it's not quite accurate. I actually 3 weeks left to work here and the Fulfillment of Trakk. One might even say, "my Trakk has been fulfilled." That's right Folk(s)! I am moving on to bigger and better things. I have accepted a position for this summer with a missions organization called World Changers. I'll be in Canada. The Good thing is that I may still be able to blog, I will just have to change the name of it from Smorgasbordom to Smorgas-busy-as-crap. Maybe I'll work on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you ready for a funny story? Ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I like to snack. My favorite snack, along with millions of other 2ND graders, is apple juice and peperidge farm's cheddar cheese filled cheese crackers. So dad-gum good. The apple juice does something with the weird cheesy paste in between the two orange crackers that makes my mouth dance with glee. Anyway, I started counting some inventory out in the far back corner of the warehouse. To be specific, I was counting DeMarcus Ware signed football helmets. Well, I was also opening a package of my favorite crackers and DROPPED ONE! Oh God of Israel who turns my ashes into beauty, WHY!? Well, there was no way in a million years I was going to apply the 10 second rule because of the vermin I have seen with my own two eyes out in that warehouse. I then proceeded to (out loud) hum the funeral song. It's ok, no one was around. As I bent over to pick it up and throw it away, I decided that it would be a brilliant waste of my time to conduct an experiment. I am going to leave the cracker on the floor in a mostly concealed area to see how long it will stay there until a RAT CARRIES IT OFF! Oh, sick. Sick and GENIUS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll keep you updated...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-2234087773841236315?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/2234087773841236315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=2234087773841236315' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/2234087773841236315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/2234087773841236315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2008/04/10-second-rule-may-not-apply.html' title='10 Second Rule May Not Apply'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-4307443307559949669</id><published>2008-04-07T13:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T13:52:31.138-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SortKwik Saved My Life</title><content type='html'>So, I love sortkwik. Have you ever used it? It's this pink waxy-jelly-sticky stuff you can put on your fingers to sort through paper with out having to lick your thumb every 5 seconds and taste whatever was on the paper that you just flipped through. It's awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to be real honest and say that I am so tired. I can't think of anything funny to write about. Sorry about that. One downfall of having a job that requires a bunch of sitting around is that it makes me feel more tired than I should. I'm gonna go walk up a ladder or something.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-4307443307559949669?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/4307443307559949669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=4307443307559949669' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/4307443307559949669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/4307443307559949669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2008/04/sortkwik-saved-my-life.html' title='SortKwik Saved My Life'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-6792960571566655479</id><published>2008-04-02T11:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T11:48:40.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Moldigated</title><content type='html'>So, I swear to you that every time I walk into the warehouse to make a personal call behind some pallets, the same Tejano song is playing. Now, don't get me wrong, I actually in a twisted way enjoy Tejano music. What's not to love? The same repetitive bass line, the soothing sounds of the accordion, and let's not kid ourselves, who doesn't appreciate the glorious sound of the tuba? Anyway, I think the girls out there have a CD on repeat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something in the kitchen of this office smells moldigated. Moldigated is an adjective of mold that I just made up. Use it. It reminds me of Anna Nicole Smith (RIP) telling the world she was pregnated...the word reminds me of that...not the smell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, something is moldy. I can't decide if I want to start an inner office poll* to see how long it will last until the three people who use that kitchen notice and dispose of the moldigated piece of whatever, or if I want to try and find out what it is for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Please note that by inner office poll, I mean a bet with myself, because no one here would want to play such an awesomely fun game.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-6792960571566655479?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/6792960571566655479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=6792960571566655479' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/6792960571566655479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/6792960571566655479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2008/04/moldigated.html' title='Moldigated'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-4801340922797032014</id><published>2008-03-31T09:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T10:07:15.567-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Scooters, Vacation, Fall</title><content type='html'>I would first like to address my blog and say that I am sorry for taking so long to post...I cheated on you with facebook. But Of course, I am back and here to once again declare my love for you and you alone. Blog. Blog, don't make that face...you know I mean it. I just have this weakness for photo albums...you I'm crazy about you, there's no use denyin'...no use even tryin'... Yes, Blog, those words came from my heart...just don't Google them later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, now that that's taken care of...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Friday was annual evaluation time which means that every employee makes the walk of death to Bossman's office to have a review of his or her work efforts for the past year with the Bossman and Ownerman. It never fails that once I walk in for my review I can literally feel the cold of death creep all over me...this can either be attributed to the actual temperature of the room set at a frosty 64 degrees or to the loss of blood circulation in my hands and face. It is a good thing that this cold feeling only lasts for approximately 9 seconds because once I sat in the hot seat, it is like every air conditioner IN THE WORLD shuts off and only emits sun-like heat. Then all of the blood in my body rushes to my face and depending on the humidity in the air, my glasses begin to fog up. Then the review begins...which never ends up being bad. And not even because I am great but because I have the sweetest bosses ever. And of course, I shouldn't have anything to worry about going into a review, because there is no part of my job that a monkey couldn't do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a completely separate and totally unrelated note, I got stung by a wasp this weekend...it was either a wasp, hornet, or yellow jacket. Which ever one of those three that stings the worst, that is the one that stung me. I am still traumatized by this. It landed on the collar of my shirt and stung me on the neck. Once it stung me it felt as though there were at least ten all up and down my back stinging me simultaneously. I ran to the bedroom and in one sweeping motion I whipped my shirt over my head, threw it on the ground, and stomped on it. It was awful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-4801340922797032014?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/4801340922797032014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=4801340922797032014' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/4801340922797032014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/4801340922797032014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2008/03/scooters-vacation-fall.html' title='Scooters, Vacation, Fall'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-6186749751714781159</id><published>2008-02-04T09:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T09:18:22.870-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Windows</title><content type='html'>So, a couple of weeks ago, Bossman hired a new office assistant to help out with some of the things we have going on. Bossman told me that it would be better if she had the space that I was in because it was right next to his office. He said that they would be working together on most of the things he assigned the new lady to do. Of course I didn't care because that meant that I would be moving to the space with the wall partition in front of it. Not only does this space have the protection and privacy of the wall partition, but it is also right next to all of the windows. I love the windows. There is so much to look at! Not only that, but I can see who is coming in. I look so ridiculous about half of the time sitting here with a blank stare on my face looking out the window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love windows.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-6186749751714781159?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/6186749751714781159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=6186749751714781159' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/6186749751714781159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/6186749751714781159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2008/02/windows.html' title='Windows'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-7091349489367610545</id><published>2008-01-30T13:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T13:53:31.678-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Office Olympics</title><content type='html'>So, I have been sitting here for about 45 minutes trying to think of a game to play. I briefly thought of trash can basketball, but I would be found out too easy. Then I got a rubber band and tried shooting wall tacks fast enough to stick in the wall...so far: unsuccessful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;originally&lt;/span&gt; thinking of those awesome ESPN commercials from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;a couple&lt;/span&gt; years ago where they showed office people playing a game called shelf ball. Then end said something like life is more fun when there is competition involved. True &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;dat&lt;/span&gt; ESPN...true &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;dat&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note that has nothing to do with games, the new office lady that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Bossman&lt;/span&gt; hired smells like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;potpourri&lt;/span&gt;...but not the good kind. The cheap kind that just mixes with the smell of soup or poop, depending on whether you put it in the bathroom or the kitchen area.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-7091349489367610545?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/7091349489367610545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=7091349489367610545' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/7091349489367610545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/7091349489367610545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2008/01/office-olympics.html' title='Office Olympics'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-8518617867559111409</id><published>2008-01-28T09:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T10:07:17.827-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Alright Already!</title><content type='html'>So, let me tell you why not to ever work part time...ever. I have been here at this company for two years. That is at least one year longer than e&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;very&lt;/span&gt; assistant in this office except one who might have started the day before me. So I've got some seniority here. I'm pretty much a big deal. I got back from vacation in the middle of last week and was not so pleased to find out that I now have the last lunch of all four lunch breaks that we four assistants take. What does a girl have to do to not get the crap end of the stick around here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What ever. I'm over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny Story: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ownerman&lt;/span&gt;, you know, the one who looks like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Frankenstein&lt;/span&gt;, he loves sending those forwards that say something like "forward this to seven people and you will add seven years to your life!" or my personal favorite, "if you really love God, you'll forward this to everyone in your inbox..." Well, I took it upon myself and my free time to make up a forward. I threw something in there about soldiers and stuck a picture in it of a soldier praying. Then I forwarded it to every email account I had and back and forth to get the forward look on it. Then it was time to forward it to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Ownerman&lt;/span&gt;. I put this on the bottom: "If you would like to save the lives of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;soldiers&lt;/span&gt; in Iraq, forward this to ten people. If you would like to stop the war in Iraq, forward this to 15 people. If you would like peace on Earth, forward this to 20 people."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess how many he forwarded it to...including back to me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-8518617867559111409?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/8518617867559111409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=8518617867559111409' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/8518617867559111409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/8518617867559111409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2008/01/alright-already.html' title='Alright Already!'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-457261706666136689</id><published>2008-01-09T09:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T13:10:36.914-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Don't Think He Knows...</title><content type='html'>So, the owner of the company I work for: Let's see...how do I describe this guy...Have you ever seen Young Frankenstein? It's Mel Brooks take on the classic horror movie. Anyway, if you have you know what I am talking about. If not click &lt;a href="http://www.albertson.edu/academics/library/youngfrank1.jpg"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. That's not a very good picture to fully describe Ownerman, but they are basically twins separated at birth. All that to say Ownerman is a giant, bald, goofy guy. I don't think he knows that he for got to re-tuck in his shirt after his usual 11:17 restroom visit that usually lasts about 9.3 minutes. That's right folks, he's regular.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I owe the two of you (readers) an apology for neglecting to blog. Christmas time gets pretty busy around here...so I actually had stuff to do. But now it is back to normal. So you'll be hearing from me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-457261706666136689?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/457261706666136689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=457261706666136689' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/457261706666136689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/457261706666136689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-dont-think-he-knows.html' title='I Don&apos;t Think He Knows...'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-633715640046968092</id><published>2007-11-15T14:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T14:56:25.315-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Learning</title><content type='html'>Today I told my boss that I didn't actually know how to do one of the jobs he always assigns me at the beginning (now middle) of the month. He asked how I had been doing it in the past and I said that I was just doing something that looked right hoping he wouldn't run into any problems with my numbers. He just kinda shook his head and said that I was starting to remind him of himself. And then he went on to lecture me about enjoying my youth while I had the chance by taking off and traveling and doing good on my school work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I asked if I could have a week off in December.&lt;br /&gt;He knew he had dug himself in a hole.&lt;br /&gt;He said yes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-633715640046968092?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/633715640046968092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=633715640046968092' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/633715640046968092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/633715640046968092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2007/11/learning.html' title='Learning'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-809197469582534581</id><published>2007-11-14T12:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T13:03:59.028-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Name Game</title><content type='html'>So, my new favorite game to play with my co-workers is called the name game. The fun thing about this game is that I am actually the only one aware that we are playing a game. It's great.&lt;br /&gt;There is a good chunk of my day that I am trapped into answering the phones while the usual receptionist and the back up receptionist are out in the warehouse talking bad about people in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Spanish&lt;/span&gt; so that the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;English&lt;/span&gt; speaking folk can't understand what the junk they are talking about. This is where the game begins.&lt;br /&gt;All sorts of people call for random people here. They call and say, "this is so-and-so with this-and-that may I speak with whats-her-name?" And I'll page whats-her-name and say, "whats-her-name, you have so-and-so on line 2."&lt;br /&gt;For me to properly explain my fun, I'll use what I did today as an example.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ring Ring&lt;br /&gt;"Thank you for calling &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Trakk&lt;/span&gt;, this is Vonda."&lt;br /&gt;"Hi, Linda," and that's usually where I daydream about strangling myself (or the caller), "could I speak with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Bossman&lt;/span&gt; please?"&lt;br /&gt;"Actually, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Bossman&lt;/span&gt; is out to lunch at the moment, may I take a message?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, This is Pamela with HP. Could you have him call me back?"&lt;br /&gt;"Sure thing Pamela."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I write on a sticky note:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terry, Emily from HP called.&lt;br /&gt;Please call her back ASAP.&lt;br /&gt;555-555-5555&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About an hour or so later I hear &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;bossman&lt;/span&gt; on the phone:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, well I have a message right here from an Emily. Are you sure there is no Emily who works there? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, well how about you just make an announcement that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Bossman&lt;/span&gt; from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Trakk&lt;/span&gt; is on the phone and wants to know who called him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten minutes later &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Bossman&lt;/span&gt; walks around the corner and says, "It's Pamela. Not Emily."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-809197469582534581?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/809197469582534581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=809197469582534581' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/809197469582534581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/809197469582534581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2007/11/name-game.html' title='The Name Game'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-6441459435849989897</id><published>2007-11-12T08:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T08:33:00.672-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Vacation</title><content type='html'>I wasn't on vacation this last month...I just have been a little busy. And by busy I mean I have found a new hobby at work. I was walking through the warehouse and something magnificant caught the corner of my eye. it was the remnants of a wrapping tube. Now, a wrapping tube is a ginormous tube of thick saran wrap that the warehouse workers use to wrap pallets. The cardboard tube is a little bit longer than the measurement from my finger tips to my elbow and if fits around my arm...so the diameter is big. Good grief. I just got bored explaining that, so, sorry about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANYWAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked that up and decided to make it art. I grabbed it and my three highlighters and started coloring it. All of my free time has gone in to coloring this tube. It's pretty hideous. So, I am a little disappointed. That's why I am back here. I gave up on the tube.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-6441459435849989897?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/6441459435849989897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=6441459435849989897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/6441459435849989897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/6441459435849989897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2007/11/vacation.html' title='Vacation'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-8871419373271190628</id><published>2007-10-17T07:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T08:51:17.251-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Honored Guests</title><content type='html'>We have guests coming to look at the facility today. Potential clients, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;boss man&lt;/span&gt; calls them. Which means when I walked in the door at 8:53 (53 minutes late...) the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pungent&lt;/span&gt; smell of cleaning chemicals knocked me back a step. You know we really only clean when we know people are coming. My task was to clean the conference room. I walked in there and there was a box on the floor...so I picked it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was it. Awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am opening a bucket full of mail. I am in charge of opening all of our sweepstakes mail...I keep hoping that someone will try to bribe me with some money...or candy even.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-8871419373271190628?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/8871419373271190628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=8871419373271190628' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/8871419373271190628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/8871419373271190628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2007/10/honored-guests.html' title='The Honored Guests'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-3270375914383453379</id><published>2007-10-10T09:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T09:52:54.562-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Solicitors</title><content type='html'>So...being a small business in a busy business neighborhood, we here at work get a ton of solicitors. And even though we have a "no soliciting" sign on the front door, they persist to march right on through the door and announce their sales pitch with puffed out chests and loud, proud voices. My boss' response varies with whatever mood he's in. Here are a few examples:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. As the solicitor walks in someone will yell out some sort of warning which will prompt bossman to hop out of his seat, walk around the corner and with cold voice ask, "can I help you?" The solicitors usually shutter at the sound of his voice...it actually sends a shiver down their spine (and mine too...it's that scary). All of the sudden the room transforms into a battle field and Bossator and SoliciTron go into full combat until Solicitron limps and whimpers out the door, lacking any pride he walked in with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. When we see the solicitor approaching someone [again] will holler out a caution in the bossman's general direction and He'll say he will be right there. When the solicitor walks in and asks for whoever is in charge, we will politely say, "our CFO will be with you in a minute, have a seat." 5 minutes pass by. 10 minutes. 20 minutes. At this pont the solicitors legs are bouncing and is giving his watch a glance ever 5.23 seconds (that is an actual calculated and carefully studied statistic). Bossman walks out and says something like, "any messages" and then shoot the solicitor a glance, just to say, "oh I forgot you were sitting there waiting on me..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. (my personal favorite) A solicitor pulls up in his fancy car and gets out, straightens his tie, and checks his teeth for any remnants of his steak lunch and turns to walk in the door. Somone sounds the solicitor alarm and Bossman hobbles and wobbles just as quickly as he can to be in the main lobby just as the solicitor walks in the door. And this is the dialogue that happens:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Stop right there!" - bossman&lt;br /&gt;Solicitor stops.&lt;br /&gt;"Ok, now look at the door you just opened." - bossman&lt;br /&gt;Solicitor takes a step back and looks.&lt;br /&gt;"What does that sign say?" - bossman&lt;br /&gt;"It says no solicitors" - solicitor&lt;br /&gt;"Thank you and have a nice day." - bossman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my job.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-3270375914383453379?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/3270375914383453379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=3270375914383453379' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/3270375914383453379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/3270375914383453379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2007/10/solicitors.html' title='Solicitors'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-4268802420426492762</id><published>2007-10-04T13:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T13:51:35.614-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Coveted Birthday Lunch</title><content type='html'>So. It's October. Which means that it is totally my birth month. More than money from grandparents, even more than the "suprize" gift my dad got me (which he always hides in the same visible place), I am excited about my birthday lunch at work. Counting me, there are 4 white people that work at my office and all the rest are born and raised Mexicans/El Salvadorians who can cook Rachael Ray out of her own kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;The Birthday lunch is a buffet of whatever the ladies decide to cook and bring. It can range from hot dogs to fajitas or pizza to tamales. It is so good. The hour befor lunch starts, the ladies bring their dishes in from the refridgerators to be heated in the office which creates a most delightful aroma of goodness around my desk, which is situated outside of both breakroom and kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not sure when they will decide to have the October birthday lunch, but that day is what I am waiting for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, on a different note, My boss said that I could leave early from work tomorrow...YES!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-4268802420426492762?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/4268802420426492762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=4268802420426492762' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/4268802420426492762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/4268802420426492762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2007/10/coveted-birthday-lunch.html' title='The Coveted Birthday Lunch'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-4226666148399107422</id><published>2007-10-03T12:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T13:05:17.668-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Awkward Rug Guy</title><content type='html'>This morning was great for me. I only woke up a little bit late and still had time to shower. Booh-yah! I fixed a healthy lunch with some yogurt I stole from my roomate and a sandwich with no miracle whip, thank you very much. So, when I walked out to hop in my vehicle, it had just rained and was so cloudy (part of the reason I woke up late).&lt;br /&gt;So. There is a guy who comes to change out our rugs. And he is awkward...awkwardly cute. So he comes in every wednesday with his big rug cart and rolls up the rugs in front of the front door and then the break room and finally he get's to the rug in front of my desk. Then he hands me the thing to sign. Here is where the awkwardness is.&lt;br /&gt;It never fails that one of us says something so dumb. Like for instance, today, I said, "So is it raining out there?" and he kinda turned to the window and looked out, then back at me.&lt;br /&gt;"it's actually pretty sunny." I looked out the window,and there really is not even a cloud in sight.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh. Right." I replied. And just as sure as the sun was shining, my face turned so red it looked a little purple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;priceless.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-4226666148399107422?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/4226666148399107422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=4226666148399107422' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/4226666148399107422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/4226666148399107422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2007/10/blog-post.html' title='The Awkward Rug Guy'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-8548514688653913922</id><published>2007-09-26T08:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T09:08:00.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Alrightalrightalrightalrightalrighalright heynowheynowheynow Ladies!</title><content type='html'>What is it about one song that can make your heart feel right?&lt;br /&gt;Not just "alright" but right...&lt;br /&gt;As in in perfect harmony with everything around you.&lt;br /&gt;That is what Hey Ya by outcast does for me...&lt;br /&gt;just kidding, but sometimes....&lt;br /&gt;No really. Harmony. From a song.&lt;br /&gt;Lead Me to the Cross by Hillsong United.&lt;br /&gt;Leads me to beauty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am at work, duh. I got a lovely text message today. In that moment that I read it I was so absolutely enthralled with excitement and awe at the beautifulness of life...&lt;br /&gt;and then the girl that calls me wanda walked up and ruined it by calling me wanda.&lt;br /&gt;why, Lord?&lt;br /&gt;why am I plagued by people that cannot say their V's?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started looking for somewhere to join a Gym today. I just need that energy back that one gets from excercising...or is itexercising? Whatev. I need the extra energy to stay up an hour later to do my ridiculous amount of accounting homework. Why are gym memberships so expensive? I mean, if the government or whoever were really concerned about this country's fatness, they would open up cheap gyms. Geez. Maybe I'll just walk around one of the hundred ponds at DBU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, I have a lot to say today. Maybe it's because I have just been sitting here doing nothing for 30 minutes. I mean really. I feel like if my boss had a clue, he would fire me to save the extra 200 bones a week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-8548514688653913922?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/8548514688653913922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=8548514688653913922' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/8548514688653913922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/8548514688653913922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2007/09/what-is-it-about-one-song-that-can-make.html' title='Alrightalrightalrightalrightalrighalright heynowheynowheynow Ladies!'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-9073292414035354350</id><published>2007-09-21T13:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T08:52:06.832-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ask me...Go on, ask me!</title><content type='html'>Ask me what I did at work yesterday. No seriously...say it out loud to the screen; I'll hear it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I am so glad you asked. First I signed on to facebook, like a good college kid would, and I checked my messages. Then I started thinking of my trip to Tennesse coming up. I decided that I didn't want to spend it with the people that I see all the time, but that I wanted to some way get myself to Nashville from Chattanooga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would you do...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, that's probably what I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to &lt;a href="http://www.greyhound.com/"&gt;http://www.greyhound.com/&lt;/a&gt; and bought a greyhound bus ticket. Roundtrip. $46.50.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worth every penny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I get to spend the weekend with the two most awesome people east of the mississippi river...well...I'm not sure where that actually is...sooooo....you get the idea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-9073292414035354350?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/9073292414035354350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=9073292414035354350' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/9073292414035354350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/9073292414035354350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2007/09/ask-mego-on-ask-me.html' title='Ask me...Go on, ask me!'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-4428683657925472837</id><published>2007-09-17T11:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-17T11:12:53.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Man, If I could be anywhere right now I would be in my bed...with all of the lights off...appromiately 69 degrees...with all the fans going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I swear on everything, if this stupid girl calls me wanda one more time, I am going to snap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;going to lunch...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-4428683657925472837?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/4428683657925472837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=4428683657925472837' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/4428683657925472837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/4428683657925472837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2007/09/man-if-i-could-be-anywhere-right-now-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-3456417462849480368</id><published>2007-09-14T14:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-14T14:30:01.644-07:00</updated><title type='text'>counting the seconds</title><content type='html'>31&lt;br /&gt;30&lt;br /&gt;29&lt;br /&gt;28&lt;br /&gt;27&lt;br /&gt;26&lt;br /&gt;25&lt;br /&gt;24&lt;br /&gt;23&lt;br /&gt;22&lt;br /&gt;21&lt;br /&gt;20&lt;br /&gt;19&lt;br /&gt;18&lt;br /&gt;17&lt;br /&gt;16&lt;br /&gt;15&lt;br /&gt;14&lt;br /&gt;13&lt;br /&gt;12&lt;br /&gt;11&lt;br /&gt;10&lt;br /&gt;9&lt;br /&gt;8&lt;br /&gt;7&lt;br /&gt;6&lt;br /&gt;5&lt;br /&gt;4&lt;br /&gt;3&lt;br /&gt;2&lt;br /&gt;1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's time to go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-3456417462849480368?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/3456417462849480368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=3456417462849480368' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/3456417462849480368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/3456417462849480368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2007/09/counting-seconds.html' title='counting the seconds'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8091295351463445106.post-3888691427594392725</id><published>2007-09-12T09:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T09:23:20.622-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='awesome'/><title type='text'>so...I thought I would feed my internet addiction</title><content type='html'>awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm at work...I am on a manhunt...well not a man hunt so much as a camera hunt. I am supposed to be shipping four of these dinky cameras to this lady in colorodo and there are only three here...whoops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my guess is who ever was here to replace me this summer sent one somewhere with out recording it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every once in a while, the guy in the office behind me will get a phone call from an unhappy customer, and he will lose his temper and yell at whoever is on the phone...s-c-a-r-y.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Word of the day:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;awesome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8091295351463445106-3888691427594392725?l=vondajonutt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/feeds/3888691427594392725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8091295351463445106&amp;postID=3888691427594392725' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/3888691427594392725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8091295351463445106/posts/default/3888691427594392725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://vondajonutt.blogspot.com/2007/09/soi-thought-i-would-feed-my-internet.html' title='so...I thought I would feed my internet addiction'/><author><name>Vonda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09331397106550069184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
