tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11673222022191140882024-03-13T00:10:58.740-07:00Seeing Sidewaysmtaltyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13652861807980959489noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1167322202219114088.post-37305307754214637262010-09-13T18:44:00.000-07:002010-09-13T19:18:47.810-07:00I don't know what to write. There are so many emotions going through my body. I'll write to you and hopefully someway you'll read this. I guess for the past few weeks I've tried to not think about this. There are so many questions constantly traveling through my mind and I can see you in ways I never imagined. He was 1 Branden. He was your life. I don't understand. You seemed fine on Sunday. I can't get your whistle out of my head. It's weird but I can relive those few minutes with you. I remember how your shirt felt when I hugged you. I remember your ribs ever so slightly poking out and me thinking you were losing weight. I remember you were tall and your little man was so small. I remember arguing with you about putting him in his car seat right. I remember watching you drive away and secretly hoping you were watching me too. You didn't come to me. You acted like I was the easiest person to talk to out of everyone you knew because I understood you. I remember skyping with you and you telling me I looked rough lol. I miss you so much. I miss your asshole ways of making me laugh. I miss your honesty. I miss your voice. I miss you saying, "You know me Mallory..." Did I play a part in this? Did what I did to you get you here? I have a horrible way of envisioning things. I think I am one of the few people that can create a situation in their mind in a non dream state. I can see your apartment. Everything is white. I can see you pacing and talking to yourself as tears roll down your cheeks. You are ashamed of what you did. You are lonely. You're drinking. I can see you setting it up. There is no furniture. Only the mattress that you said you had. And then nothing. I can't see you wrapping the rope around your neck. I only see you hanging. I know what it feels like to suffer inside. You know that. We got each other. So then why? Was it your pride? What? I would've been the last person to judge you. You should've called me. I should've called you. I won't let anyone touch my phone. I'm scared they will erase my last text from you. Your funeral was nice. It felt like people were looking at me though. Alana was the first person I spoke to. I went up to her and introduced myself and immediately we started hugging and crying. She was beautiful Branden. Exactly as you said. We didn't exchange many words. I became really disoriented and began shaking. I walked down the aisle and could barely look at you. I wanted to touch you but I got scared. I didn't want to feel you cold. I remember you in the parking lot and you were warm and the sun was beaming down on you as I looked up at you. I think that last meeting was supposed to happen. I don't think you planned this. But something wanted us to see each other one last time. I can't write anymore right now...my eyes are getting cloudy. Goodbye for now, I'll see you in my dreams.mtaltyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13652861807980959489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1167322202219114088.post-65789129929538597392010-01-20T07:11:00.000-08:002010-01-20T07:20:08.215-08:00TornSo right now, my love life is at a stand still and I'm trying to figure out if that makes me angry or not. Latham is gone. He hurt me. I know that he's a good person but I would often question his ability to care about anyone but himself. He has so many qualities I want in a person but then again has so many I don't. It was like he tried to sabotage what we had in order to not feel anything. I have a hard time understanding the nature of people and their own personal protection. Why do people shut out the people that truly adore them and keep the people around that treat them like shit? I am a victim of these actions. I kept Kyle around for 6 years and shut out my mom. It was wrong. I am trying to make it up to her. Kyle on the other hand is only focused on getting in my pants which unfortunately for him, will never happen. Last night, we spoke as friends and he told me about all the issues he's having with his new girlfriend that he hastily moved in with. I felt a sense of relief when hearing his misery. It was karma. Granted, she isn't cheating on him which is what I had secretly hoped for, but she is dealing with problems in the same way he used to do with me. I'm regressing though. Back to Latham. I am dreaming about him a lot. Despite my will to want him in my dreams, these dreams are unlike the ones I had with Branden. These dreams are filled with hurt. I need to convince myself that that means something and move on. But if I move on will I really just be moving back to thoughts of Branden?mtaltyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13652861807980959489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1167322202219114088.post-22851787624902310972009-09-09T20:09:00.000-07:002009-09-09T20:22:02.900-07:00ConfusedIt's been a long time since I've written you. I think that's because I met someone. For awhile he consumed a lot of my time making the memories of you become more and more faint. Recently you've come back into my thoughts. Why is that? I am happy seeing this guy. He makes me laugh again and I'm starting to be myself again. He's a good guy and I can see a future with him, but he's not you. I feel frustrated because I feel like he's falling into the category of all the males that I have taken care of. That's where you were different. That's why you always come back in my dreams. You're the only man that wanted to take care of me. This guy has potential but is in a selfish mindset right now....similar to how I was with you. I just don't know what to do...part of me has to admit that I am most definitely holding on for you. I know you don't want me though. Not like that. Friends, right? I wish it could be more. You make my heart race when I talk to you once every blue moon. Although confused I must be grateful for knowing what true love is. I love you.mtaltyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13652861807980959489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1167322202219114088.post-61733131353132946772009-05-27T19:42:00.000-07:002009-05-27T19:54:06.220-07:00Nothing ChangesSo I find myself constantly reevaluating where I'm at in my life and the one thing that never changes is you. So we talked the other day and I told you I wanted to erase you from my memory. You didn't respond well. I just think it would be easier. You are right though, it's not fair. You aren't trying to take the easy way out which I respect. I'm not strong enough Branden. I know a part of you still wants to be with me. You are always dating girls that remind you of me. Why are we wasting our lives not loving each other? If I had you again I would never let you go. I remember thinking that when we were at your house dancing to Babyface. I can remember how your arms were positioned tightly around me. I can remember the way you smelled and how you lightly hummed to the music in my ear. I miss that. I miss you. Fall in love with me again.mtaltyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13652861807980959489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1167322202219114088.post-12764747485283844612009-02-15T20:37:00.001-08:002009-02-15T20:51:21.747-08:00Branden ScottSo I'm writing on here because I know that you will never see it. I am so incredibly lonely without you. I don't know how to get you back. I literally dream and think about you constantly. I feel like loving you is torture. I can't catch my breath when I think of you and I nervously chew away at my lower lip wondering if you will ever come back. I wish you would trust me. I don't know how I am supposed to be with anyone else. I keep trying to move on, but I can't. My heart only wants you and no one else will compare. Ugh, I'm so frustrated. I know that I will be alone forever. You will move on...you already have. I am so happy for you that you are going to be a father and I want nothing but the best for you. I go to sleep just so I can dream about you and feel you. Why can't people who are meant to be together just be? I know that some part of you still feels the same. Please come back. I just want to touch you. I just want you to make me laugh. I don't truly laugh about anything anymore....not like when I was with you. I was stupid and young. Please forgive me. I need you, to be me. mtaltyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13652861807980959489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1167322202219114088.post-37662150397475872382008-04-28T11:58:00.000-07:002008-04-28T12:01:16.650-07:00I had planned to show some "real" photos of my flaws to expose the real me which would have correlated with my previous posts. I'm not ready to do this though. Saying what I said in my post last night was a huge step for me. To me, that was like peeling off a layer of my former self.mtaltyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13652861807980959489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1167322202219114088.post-75868647172979990412008-04-28T11:04:00.001-07:002008-04-28T11:05:05.348-07:00Research<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJUZ8pPS5WBWoz2UuLaIfRyP8leFW_y2MEbZiZ_9-XQYIUrMN9G4uuKYUAa-nOIrgeJ9oDsqcnRwuUmijWs7VWkcMATvuNo5Sly3WpA-eyY7s5LOu1nmPh6u4safVy7G0QHRHQvsUtaAqZ/s1600-h/eyes.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJUZ8pPS5WBWoz2UuLaIfRyP8leFW_y2MEbZiZ_9-XQYIUrMN9G4uuKYUAa-nOIrgeJ9oDsqcnRwuUmijWs7VWkcMATvuNo5Sly3WpA-eyY7s5LOu1nmPh6u4safVy7G0QHRHQvsUtaAqZ/s400/eyes.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194358787235412738" /></a>mtaltyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13652861807980959489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1167322202219114088.post-10632251185006356952008-04-27T21:01:00.000-07:002008-04-27T21:04:42.796-07:00Final ProjectSo I feel like for this final project I want the class to really see me. It will be my onion/final project assignment and will incorporate my previous blog post. I want to show my flaws which will be a huge thing for me to do, especially to people that I have barely taken the time to know.mtaltyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13652861807980959489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1167322202219114088.post-69368802411654822452008-04-27T20:27:00.000-07:002008-04-27T20:45:50.231-07:00Reality CheckOk, so I don't even know where to begin. When Beth went through the list of assignments that we had done and I realized how much I had missed, I was angry at myself. Not until today though did things go full circle for me and did I finally give this class a chance. Pretty sad huh?? Anyway, today at work I was offended by something that a co-worker said to me and this is how I responded, "Well Marsha, I would be angry at the world too if I were as gigantic as you." At the time I thought I was being funny and felt like the "cool kid" because I made everyone laugh at her expense. I didn't start to feel bad until about 15 minutes ago when I was putting my youngest son asleep. I laid there and thought, what the fuck is your problem Mallory??? And then I realized that I've been doing this forever. I THINK I'M BETTER THAN OTHERS. This is the reason that I'm not getting to know people in my classes and why I reject new friendships. I'M A BITCH. When we were talking in class the other day and Beth talked about people not really talking, I knew that I was one of them. I am actually really talkative and couldn't put my finger on why I wasn't talking in class. Well, come to find out now that it was because of my superiority complex. I would always think, these kids in my classes don't know shit. They haven't been through what I've been through. I'm 24 and being in class with them is like babysitting my kids. I can't remember when I started acting like this. Maybe it was the years of private school or my constant obsession of having the finer things of life...who knows, but I'm ready to change. In our last class on the blazing hot rooftop deck, FREAK said something to me that really stood out. He looked at me and said, "you're pink and yellow." And for some odd reason I didn't question it and instead was finally proud to be something other than I had perceived myself to be.mtaltyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13652861807980959489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1167322202219114088.post-15033410533359312432008-03-31T08:37:00.000-07:002008-03-31T08:44:33.162-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxKQ-EYhMuj4M5AbvRU3th43L266_iFPU4bUQThu2pO4f-X1nJ34vvoX8rq58qxtbyom-dmL5sAxJ73uUvb_nOUwV2YQl3ClF9OjQSCThOYUk6E9eko29teWgmY-JPz9yzPxwTnkSDAQJM/s1600-h/anonymousplacenta.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxKQ-EYhMuj4M5AbvRU3th43L266_iFPU4bUQThu2pO4f-X1nJ34vvoX8rq58qxtbyom-dmL5sAxJ73uUvb_nOUwV2YQl3ClF9OjQSCThOYUk6E9eko29teWgmY-JPz9yzPxwTnkSDAQJM/s400/anonymousplacenta.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183932165664980610" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghJ9XiPKMYs665FQq53WsetcY46lxX7tYI-X_GwR4AmumC0nHvLMKjMI2-wCoZavjHZ7_NTheygYHxlEM6dg3HU8DLFH8q2QSngTzN2Q2hc1CZjMf6ZDs6WsC0RS8CbmzofPKhuX9k7uxD/s1600-h/t.gif"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghJ9XiPKMYs665FQq53WsetcY46lxX7tYI-X_GwR4AmumC0nHvLMKjMI2-wCoZavjHZ7_NTheygYHxlEM6dg3HU8DLFH8q2QSngTzN2Q2hc1CZjMf6ZDs6WsC0RS8CbmzofPKhuX9k7uxD/s400/t.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183931525714853490" border="0" /></a>mtaltyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13652861807980959489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1167322202219114088.post-81591981986168296822008-03-03T07:55:00.000-08:002008-03-03T08:57:05.695-08:00Going Without A Sense<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnK192XgGxHX0w3qxWqDjst7yqZDVdjYSx93qne2Sju2YtWQRW1XJFsQL4EnYW2DzRH2HaQbWitSQQI8CMfufv8YpMz9c2dhsZr2mRYIXQ9AflPuyxvTqLtW-xNTNS_6MLoh5-4j9eGxqb/s1600-h/ear_buds.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnK192XgGxHX0w3qxWqDjst7yqZDVdjYSx93qne2Sju2YtWQRW1XJFsQL4EnYW2DzRH2HaQbWitSQQI8CMfufv8YpMz9c2dhsZr2mRYIXQ9AflPuyxvTqLtW-xNTNS_6MLoh5-4j9eGxqb/s400/ear_buds.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173557477581593826" border="0" /></a><br /><br />So...I wanted to take one of my senses away from myself for this blog and see what kind of experience I would have. I wanted to take it away from the real world, but enhance it but only from my perspective. On Thursday, I don't have my children, so I thought it was the perfect day to do this. I'm in school for a large part of the day, so that aspect also made this experiment interesting. I decided to have my own personal soundtrack for the majority of the day by constantly keeping my ipod on and attached to my ears via headphones. it was extremely interesting to see how people reacted to me never taking my headphones off. People would talk to me and I attempted to read their lips which I found out, I'm not half bad at. During my first class, I sat in the back of class and no one really noticed what I was doing. The teacher lectured while I listened to music which made class a completely different experience. In between classes I went to Wal Mart and to the gas station, where if someone spoke to me I just kind of nodded my head. People kind of reacted to my like I was a bitch...it was kind of funny. In my second class I had to adjust and reintroduce myself to other sounds by taking only one headphone out so I could do the tutorial with the rest of my class. This was interesting. Things sounded so funny with John Legend playing in my other ear. It was actually interesting because at one point when we got up for a break, and the whole class got out of their seats, it was as if the music climaxed at the same time. Overall this was a really fun experience and I learned that I can read lips actually really well.mtaltyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13652861807980959489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1167322202219114088.post-83784439988273730682008-03-03T07:38:00.000-08:002008-03-03T07:47:25.684-08:00WOW....where have I been?So I can't believe that I haven't blogged in this long. I have been so busy with school and the babies being sick that February just flew by. A couple of weeks ago Beth let us choose to either watch a movie in class and order pizza or have a bliss assignment where we could go do whatever we want, but we had to dedicate the full class time to our bliss. I chose to have the free time because I never get free time and just wanted to hang by myself. My bliss consisted of the following elements...eating at Noodles and Company while watching Desperate Housewives on my iPod and then spending time at my friend of 10 years, Bryan's house and watching more shitty reality television. So, it's not like I did anything spectacular with my time, but I was abe to take a couple of hours and dedicate it solely to me, which I seriously appreciate.mtaltyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13652861807980959489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1167322202219114088.post-83972625690649712442008-02-11T11:01:00.000-08:002008-02-11T11:13:43.283-08:00What Moves MeHere are some things that move me....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXu3_yhv9Q0q2HbyfwRt1NKkYWPcx6tY4t3ZqJR9lizKr04TLaWozwDweVfMECSt5BIHufJm7jIs7HdA59sdZ7cMxzPxznDFubIuvyVIgZXPj9RBgCzhlwmqI_rTvcbKNyNkr7fVXSp2b1/s1600-h/CIMG0069+1.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXu3_yhv9Q0q2HbyfwRt1NKkYWPcx6tY4t3ZqJR9lizKr04TLaWozwDweVfMECSt5BIHufJm7jIs7HdA59sdZ7cMxzPxznDFubIuvyVIgZXPj9RBgCzhlwmqI_rTvcbKNyNkr7fVXSp2b1/s200/CIMG0069+1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165802080009071058" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrUmGcw6BTpCHdpu6-DNCXGVd_74i2Ondej0a110ZPuu2DtkgF0YN7kP2-9bUD9qroigNzGfK9q6jcnp5cleTE8Kpco-XDOf56zKwl9psPInop5GjBMF_BI_2-rs35oG5Eg6LuNx0YFWjd/s1600-h/aidan.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrUmGcw6BTpCHdpu6-DNCXGVd_74i2Ondej0a110ZPuu2DtkgF0YN7kP2-9bUD9qroigNzGfK9q6jcnp5cleTE8Kpco-XDOf56zKwl9psPInop5GjBMF_BI_2-rs35oG5Eg6LuNx0YFWjd/s200/aidan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165802058534234562" border="0" /></a>mtaltyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13652861807980959489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1167322202219114088.post-56599659244124565062008-02-06T12:28:00.000-08:002008-02-06T12:32:07.097-08:00Monday's ClassSo I have officially decided that this class is the shit. On Monday we had to explore the block for about 30 minutes and have some type of unique experience that would only apply to us. Others had way better stories than mine. I only found a partially open candy bar.....booo. But, I did get to meet another Mallory for the first time ever which is pretty great. It was so weird how everything on Monday seemed connected from stories people told to our bible dipping at the end of class. This class is all about opening your eyes and I think that Monday was the perfect example.mtaltyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13652861807980959489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1167322202219114088.post-76807938706869123372008-02-04T07:57:00.000-08:002008-02-04T08:00:27.071-08:00My What If JourneySo I was looking at other people's blogs and was struck with Joseph Habshey's what if question.....what if people were born without genetalia??? My first reaction was don't get into this, but I think that it's actually really interesting to think about because then how would we mate??? We might possibly mate how other animals do....who knows??? I'm intrigued.mtaltyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13652861807980959489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1167322202219114088.post-26912190907269991192008-01-28T07:25:00.000-08:002008-01-28T11:37:52.564-08:00What If....1. What if...everyone were carbon copies of one another.<br />2. What if...there were no such thing as children.<br />3. What if...we never died.<br />4. What if...all of this is just a dream or figment of our imaginations.<br />5. What if...there were no such thing as words.<br />6. What if...we all acted like Paris Hilton.<br />7. What if...people who deserved to make more money actually did.<br />8. What if...George Bush didn't suck.<br />9. What if...we all walked around naked all the time.<br />10. What if...everything was free.<br />11. What if...there were cures for diseases...(which there probably are).<br />12. What if...cat's ruled the world.<br />13. What if...Britney Spears were a good mom.<br />14. What if...I wasn't such a procrastinator.<br />15. What if...everyday we had to live our lives out through song.<br />16. What if...we wouldn't have been lied to about the war in Iraq.<br />17. What if...students at IUPUI got together and boycotted the school.<br />18. What if...my family got along.<br />19. What if...every class was as cool as this one.<br />20. What if...I were never born.<br />21. What if...I wouldn't have fucked up my freshman year at IU.<br />22. What if...everyone could have babies.<br />22. What if...the writer's strike would end and good shows could be back on instead of all of this reality bullshit.<br />23. What if...all movies made us think.<br />25. What if...we go into an ice age.<br />26. What if...my name were Jamaica.<br />27. What if...Steve wouldn't have gone to his brother's that night.<br />28. What if...soulmate's don't exist.<br />29. What if...soulmate's do exist.<br />30. What if...I get an opportunity to move to New York.<br />31. What if...people's dreams really did come true.<br />32. What if...people in other countries didn't have to starve.<br />33. What if...all health care in America were free.<br />34. What if...shopping stopped being an obsession for me.<br />35. What if...my computer breaks down.<br />36. What if...Kyle changed.<br />37. What if...I were on a reality show.<br />38. What if...I won the lottery.<br />39. What if...I don't get to see my kids grow up.<br />40. What if...I don't ever get married.<br />41. What if...I've already met him.<br />42. What if...reincarnation is real.<br />43. What if...Aunt Margie was still here.<br />44. What if...I stop being a server.<br />45. What if...I get straight A's again.<br />46. What if...my friends forget about me.<br />47. What if...this is as good as it gets.<br />48. What if...I die tomorrow.<br />49. What if...Lindsey doesn't come back.<br />50. What if...Ivin actually shows up.mtaltyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13652861807980959489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1167322202219114088.post-86262349297563518242008-01-14T08:04:00.000-08:002008-01-14T08:59:22.068-08:00This is Forking SillySo it is literally a few hours before this post is due and I just realized that my fork has been sitting in my purse for the entire week amongst receipts, money, hair ties and god knows what else. No action has been taken at all to give this fork a good story so I will do my best within the next few hours to do this fork justice. Who better to make a story for my fork then my two toddler boys who find the stupidest things entertaining.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi4ESliFiqjv4riXo1F_nbTawhFcfDrGFrWxkZiGg4SFh8KqJw2YUx_jcqJ3XRY5vprMZrOsty5_ui7-IV5FXaAo7og0dmNy5gunWzPqcCbbOQDExUwcY1oSFlh7KuLUEFtddHfgaPHXMX/s1600-h/DSC00254.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi4ESliFiqjv4riXo1F_nbTawhFcfDrGFrWxkZiGg4SFh8KqJw2YUx_jcqJ3XRY5vprMZrOsty5_ui7-IV5FXaAo7og0dmNy5gunWzPqcCbbOQDExUwcY1oSFlh7KuLUEFtddHfgaPHXMX/s320/DSC00254.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155367902288880050" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Aidan who is one and a half is my first test subject whom I am assuming will give me some type of story for the plastic fork. I start off by handing the fork to Aidan and he looks confused as to why there is no food associated with it. He proceeds to hold the fork for a minute, put it in his mouth, stick it in his hair and then toss it to the ground as he is already over my experiment.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioNHK6la7n0d7PEcTCUJzv4hJtjEl8ttLErdAmffCQp9vk-4dHH2XcapgKuYV-c4Fy7CbxUmoZbnog4cNS0N7vGHkUvgCnddV9BAaqkm6HPLiEK5blj6jbMuAbkpop2P7g8dG37-dEV644/s1600-h/DSC00257.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioNHK6la7n0d7PEcTCUJzv4hJtjEl8ttLErdAmffCQp9vk-4dHH2XcapgKuYV-c4Fy7CbxUmoZbnog4cNS0N7vGHkUvgCnddV9BAaqkm6HPLiEK5blj6jbMuAbkpop2P7g8dG37-dEV644/s200/DSC00257.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155369714765078978" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik7ZRdMQVzbBDLlVuHOmdnd5Cx28jR7eBtBrwC6aCyAN5DyvUvPfMTB36sskvfKjWi9qydvbztifBwOio8wyGudtEIll-6-rl7WBFLF6qDG2QBgtJYUXpRFQi_PgavpsIPeuY7j6t8ahRP/s1600-h/DSC00256.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik7ZRdMQVzbBDLlVuHOmdnd5Cx28jR7eBtBrwC6aCyAN5DyvUvPfMTB36sskvfKjWi9qydvbztifBwOio8wyGudtEIll-6-rl7WBFLF6qDG2QBgtJYUXpRFQi_PgavpsIPeuY7j6t8ahRP/s200/DSC00256.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155369719060046290" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8fjpdZqV2BkPi4PuE3OK6nk4cSj8NX5RAz0lP4z0vXS0fW3eIkk4-as6HaGs2fcziBxw1_uMvDlwd5u73GKNu8kT-1Y-YsW1hvPdvfsPBYCKbS6SKZWHOCkBqfJqXWTs584PbPW5l45Vt/s1600-h/DSC00259.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8fjpdZqV2BkPi4PuE3OK6nk4cSj8NX5RAz0lP4z0vXS0fW3eIkk4-as6HaGs2fcziBxw1_uMvDlwd5u73GKNu8kT-1Y-YsW1hvPdvfsPBYCKbS6SKZWHOCkBqfJqXWTs584PbPW5l45Vt/s200/DSC00259.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155369727649980898" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj4bRO4ww5RSgcsP8azXWwZxopOaJHEwWrpky22He4mEdpV_-gtvYqo9I1QIxJCwQxxxBspkFOSls7WIh_5bL0W3otRFUvVZCDIW8oBtl0eud-NVdO-nkcnld1LUSDxwuu1_zM9m12W6G1/s1600-h/DSC00260.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj4bRO4ww5RSgcsP8azXWwZxopOaJHEwWrpky22He4mEdpV_-gtvYqo9I1QIxJCwQxxxBspkFOSls7WIh_5bL0W3otRFUvVZCDIW8oBtl0eud-NVdO-nkcnld1LUSDxwuu1_zM9m12W6G1/s200/DSC00260.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155369731944948210" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Next up is my four year old Kenyon. He is obsessed with power rangers so I knew that giving him a fork and asking him to do something with it would be a stretch. So instead he molded my ideas with his and let the fork be a part in his power rangers gaming experience. The fork remained next to his controller for about three minutes when he decided that the fork got in the way and put in on the table. Mission Failed.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHhuzE7FEIEOcpR7ylX0AMg7dcBCp4n8kOd27dzUdkb0uhjwd9hGzXkPIDbEdWkyINm_7SKankV27pzLNycKb9CdexmliNkUuIDIerVaizKnYQmL6Ky17heOCmlx8hWpV4dunBiIr2Lnzg/s1600-h/DSC00267.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHhuzE7FEIEOcpR7ylX0AMg7dcBCp4n8kOd27dzUdkb0uhjwd9hGzXkPIDbEdWkyINm_7SKankV27pzLNycKb9CdexmliNkUuIDIerVaizKnYQmL6Ky17heOCmlx8hWpV4dunBiIr2Lnzg/s200/DSC00267.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155376801461117442" border="0" /></a><br /><br />My attempts to give this fork a story were unfortunately unsuccessful, but at least they were a little entertaining.<br /></div></div>mtaltyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13652861807980959489noreply@blogger.com0