Whatever the cause, this video had me laughing…and that’s exactly how I like to wrap up Friday after work.  I mean, who wants to go into the weekend with a frown?

Happy Friday, everyone!

There’s nothing like burying ourselves in his stuffed animals and shouting for mommy to join us  :-)

Sure, this is tame, character-driven fare, but it’ll get my hard earned money, and it looks like something Karin would enjoy watching. That’s a win-win in my book…

There is a caveat to this prize:  I must share seven things about myself to the person who presented me with this award.  Well, not being the shy type, I thought I might as well pour my heart and soul out to everyone unlucky enough to voluntarily read this dreck of a blog…so let’s go!

1. I enjoy eating cottage cheese with sugar
2. I learned how to spell ‘encyclopedia’ when I was seven years old because I was promised $5 to do so
3. When I was a child I jumped from the roof of my elementary school and into an open trash bin like a stuntman (to this day I’m grateful that it wasn’t “recycle your glass” day)
4. I love peeling my skin after a sunburn
5. I much prefer to stay up late than get up early
6. I used to be big into silk screen artwork (making posters for local bands), and hope to pick it up again someday
7. I sorely miss my days in the Air Force

There.  Whew!  That wasn’t so bad, now was it?  Heh…

And again, Nicole, many thanks for the award!  You’re an amazing blogger.  Everyone here should immediately add your blog to their blogrolls, if they know what’s good for ‘em.

Graduation

A soft summer sun shone down on the football field, warming the oaken lectern as it stood forlornly at center stage.  Rows of folding chairs had been laid out in a square grid on the football field, ready to accept this year’s class of graduates.  The cap and gown orders had finally arrived and were awaiting pickup by the senior class.  Yearbooks had been passed out and were even now busily being signed by friends and schoolmates, most of whom would never see each other after today’s ceremonies.

Similar activities such as these were playing out at schools across the nation today.

In the main office, teachers and staff were busy filling out year-end forms and filing away last minute paperwork.  The scene is busy with teachers anxious to wrap up yet another year, with everyone looking forward to summer vacation.  The absence of students and their dramatic lives.  Peace and quiet.

And in a far corner, away from the bustling flurry of activity, Mrs. Forrest stands idly in front of the wall-mounted inboxes, dumbly thumbing the corner of a small form made of thick card stock bearing the name of ‘Jeff Blauer’.

Through glassy eyes focused at a far off point, she remembers with a slight smile the essay from Jeff Blauer, the one required from all candidates applying for Class President.  It’s the only one she truly remembers reading this year.  In it, he detailed his difficult upbringing.  His divorced parents.  Their terrible financial situation.  And how, through it all, his mother made sure that education was a driving force in Jeff’s life.  How she showed nothing but love and compassion for her son, encouraging him to be a positive, outgoing person with empathy towards others and a strong will to overcome any obstacle placed before him.

And through sheer force of will and loving guidance from his mother, Jeff succeeded.  Through his junior and senior year of school, Jeff played wide receiver on the Varsity team, was a member of the debate team, served as the class Historian, and earned grades high enough to warrant not only the position of class valedictorian, but also the attention of Stanford University.

Staring down at the form between her fingers, now dog-eared and wrinkled, Mrs. Forrest silently reads the header for the tenth time: STUDENT WITHDRAWN: DECEASED.

She sighs, glides her fingertips lightly across the surface of the card one last time, and slides it gently into the ‘Administrative’ inbox.