<?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'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402</id><updated>2009-10-10T22:54:55.792-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Mathemagician's Journey</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>95</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-8120865664053583444</id><published>2009-07-30T20:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T21:42:25.615-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fall of Esther</title><content type='html'>Oh so long ago, March 2009 to be exact, my good friends from Middlesex Erin and Jessie came out to the Inland Empire to visit.  We did many things, we went to the San Diego Zoo, Las Vegas, Drag Queen Bingo, but the most significant event we experienced together was the death of my very first car, Esther.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The oh so fatefull event began the night before when we were driving home from LA.  There was a loud bump noise and from then on Esther's engine sounded like it was popping corn.  Not much sooner after that the oil light came on.  Not thinking much of it we filled Esther up with more oil the next day and headed out to the Griffith Observatory.  She didn't sound too good going up the hill to the main parking lot but we got there and walked around and took some pictures:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iyz1Q6j3DdQ/SnJqp9YW4nI/AAAAAAAABSo/XXKIEmqSWfo/s1600-h/P1010205.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iyz1Q6j3DdQ/SnJqp9YW4nI/AAAAAAAABSo/XXKIEmqSWfo/s320/P1010205.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364467375235588722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iyz1Q6j3DdQ/SnJs-Yiu1xI/AAAAAAAABSw/CbR__p67Qmg/s1600-h/P1010207.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iyz1Q6j3DdQ/SnJs-Yiu1xI/AAAAAAAABSw/CbR__p67Qmg/s320/P1010207.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364469925147498258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was time to get back into Esther. The popcorn noise was loud, I mean people were looking at the car loud.  We got her down the mountain and pulled into the first gas station we saw.  The mechanics face said it all, Esther was not driving off of this lot.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make sure everyone understands the occasion let me give a brief history of this Saturn SL2.  Bought in 1998 by Meryl and Harold Fosse(i.e. Mom and Dad), Esther served Meryl well for her long commute from NJ to the Bronx. Esther was the car that I took my driving test in and once Meryl decided to purchase another Saturn, Esther became mine.  She survived a road trip across the country with my parents and all of my stuff.  She made it to 198,000 miles.  She was an awesome car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iyz1Q6j3DdQ/SnJs-rDuz3I/AAAAAAAABS4/RkLBHXEcIqk/s1600-h/P1010211.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iyz1Q6j3DdQ/SnJs-rDuz3I/AAAAAAAABS4/RkLBHXEcIqk/s320/P1010211.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364469930117746546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iyz1Q6j3DdQ/SnJs_JGlY4I/AAAAAAAABTA/5EkYjFBY1rM/s1600-h/P1010212.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iyz1Q6j3DdQ/SnJs_JGlY4I/AAAAAAAABTA/5EkYjFBY1rM/s320/P1010212.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364469938182775682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saying good bye to my car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iyz1Q6j3DdQ/SnJs_p1O7CI/AAAAAAAABTI/GjZ5-kLSShE/s1600-h/P1010215.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iyz1Q6j3DdQ/SnJs_p1O7CI/AAAAAAAABTI/GjZ5-kLSShE/s320/P1010215.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364469946968370210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so thankful that these two were here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iyz1Q6j3DdQ/SnJtAH98WFI/AAAAAAAABTQ/5YCdNXkj8JE/s1600-h/P1010217.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iyz1Q6j3DdQ/SnJtAH98WFI/AAAAAAAABTQ/5YCdNXkj8JE/s320/P1010217.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364469955057965138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The very nice tow truck guy. He towed us the 30-odd miles back to Claremont AND put up with us playing name that tune.  Thank you AAA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iyz1Q6j3DdQ/SnJujYd8RDI/AAAAAAAABTY/-HjgkEkVFKA/s1600-h/P1010218.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iyz1Q6j3DdQ/SnJujYd8RDI/AAAAAAAABTY/-HjgkEkVFKA/s320/P1010218.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364471660294194226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iyz1Q6j3DdQ/SnJujgMQqzI/AAAAAAAABTg/_1dpz7js628/s1600-h/P1010221.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iyz1Q6j3DdQ/SnJujgMQqzI/AAAAAAAABTg/_1dpz7js628/s320/P1010221.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364471662367517490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good bye Esther!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wound up having to sell Esther for $200.00. It was a sad day indeed.  This car had a lot of memories for me and my family.  It will be missed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How am I getting around now you may ask?  The answer is worthy of an entirely different blog post and I swear it won't take me 6 months to post it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-8120865664053583444?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/8120865664053583444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=8120865664053583444' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/8120865664053583444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/8120865664053583444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2009/07/fall-of-esther.html' title='The Fall of Esther'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iyz1Q6j3DdQ/SnJqp9YW4nI/AAAAAAAABSo/XXKIEmqSWfo/s72-c/P1010205.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-2504565909454468173</id><published>2009-06-08T19:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T22:35:57.949-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Diploma Came in the Mail Today</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-94ryIxuszY&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-94ryIxuszY&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-2504565909454468173?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/2504565909454468173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=2504565909454468173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/2504565909454468173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/2504565909454468173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2009/06/diploma-came-in-mail-today.html' title='The Diploma Came in the Mail Today'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-1025195562556377663</id><published>2009-04-29T23:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T23:23:33.867-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Swine Flu</title><content type='html'>I swear this conversation actually happened:&lt;br /&gt;Me: (to person leaving the office) Feel better.  Hope you don't catch the swine flu.&lt;br /&gt;Other Person: I think it's called Mexican flu now.&lt;br /&gt;Me: I think that's only in Israel because they don't want the Jewish population to think they can't get the flu just because they don't eat/raise pigs.&lt;br /&gt;Other Person: Well, I still call it Mexican flu. I just feel bad for the pigs getting the blame.&lt;br /&gt;Me: What about the Mexicans?&lt;br /&gt;(Silence)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-1025195562556377663?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/1025195562556377663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=1025195562556377663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/1025195562556377663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/1025195562556377663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2009/04/swine-flu.html' title='Swine Flu'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-4199916931380361657</id><published>2009-04-13T21:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T21:23:37.052-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Passover</title><content type='html'>Ok I have to admit it...it was pretty cool to be at a Passover Seder and talk about how I saw the sun rise on Mount Sinai.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-4199916931380361657?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/4199916931380361657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=4199916931380361657' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/4199916931380361657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/4199916931380361657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2009/04/passover.html' title='Passover'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-8399962357339145190</id><published>2009-03-30T21:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T21:56:31.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Last Egypt Blog</title><content type='html'>I know I know I took forever but that's what happens when school starts up, my time on the computer is spent coding and wikapedia-ing, not blogging.  But here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I think where I left off we had been to the Valley of the Kings.  The next day we went and saw the Karnak Temple which is bigger than Luxor temple, but also was way more crowded.  The only interesting thing that happened was that Cabby thought it would be a good idea to try to get a pencil rubbing of a hieroglyphic.  Out of nowhere comes a ministry of tourism officer who tells her no.  She obliges, but he follows us around for the rest of time, just to make sure.  After leaving the temple we hopped back onto a plane to Cairo.  Once back in Cairo, Cabby, Jessica, and I wondered the streets and found some local markets where we stocked up on some fruits and sweets before we left in the morning.  I think that was my favorite night out of the whole trip, we weren't in a huge group snapping pictures.  In fact the locals were asking to take pictures with us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day we began our very long trek to Mount Sinai.  An added bonus is that Mount Sinai is actually on the continent of Asia. So I went to Africa and Asia in two weeks, not bad.  Once we got to the lovely hotel we were staying at we all kind of crashed.  We were beginning our hike up Mount Sinai at 2am so we all had dinner and tried to take naps.  Unfortunately whatever I had for dinner didn't agree with me and I was up at 2am running to the bathroom and debating whether I should do the hike or not.  Well for one thing I still hadn't ridden a camel and for another my motto is go big or go home so I threw some puke bags in my pocket, swallowed some Amodium and got on the bus to begin the longest day, ever. We got to the base of the mountain and we got paired off with our camels.  Because I wasn't feeling very well and because the camel wranglers were yelling at us there are no pictures of us on the camels.  But I can tell you that for me it was amazing.  I fit better on a camel than I think I do a horse and my camel fit my personality.  We booked it to the front of the line and then we slowed down and blocked the trail so that no one could pass.  I had no control and I thought it was hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just have this picture in my head of how it looked:  Camels lined up walking up the mountain, people hiking up with flashlights that were really needed because the moon was so bright, and dry mountainous regions as far as the eye can see.  You can't forget the amazing stars either.  We were on the camels for about an hour and something about the outdoors and the new experience made my sickness disappear for the time being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After being let off by the camels we waited for a group to catch up to begin the ascent of the rest of the mount.  The rest of the hike consisted of 750 steps.  But they weren't really steps, they were more like rock slabs balanced on one another.  It took a good long time to get up them but once we did we hunkered down to wait for the sunrise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is the part that most people tell me to leave out: it wasn't all that worth it.  The sunrise was great I admit but I could have seen the same thing on the beach on the east coast.  The one thing that I thought was cool were the random groups of people who were praying and chanting.  I guess what I mean to say is for a pilgramage it's awesome, for a hike...not so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the sun rose and we filled our cameras with many a pictures we begun our hike down.  It took forever.  About 2 and half hours to be exact.  And the Professor was none to happy to see our leader when we got down because we were a half hour late.  Without any rest we headed into the monastery of St. Katherine, which is at the base of Mount Sinai. Honestly I was so tired I don't remember much about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At about mid-afternoon we piled back on the bus and began our final trek to the Red Sea.  The final place we visited was the monastery of St. Paul at the Red Sea.  It was a fun monastery and it was within those divine walls that a declaration was passed. A monk was showing us around and at this point we were all kind of tired and loopy so we were joking around with the good-natured monk.  After the tour we sat and had tea with him.  He came up to me and asked me my name.  I told him and he told me that I was funny.  Funny! That's practically from the mouth of God that I Elyse Lynn Fosse is hilariously funny!  Clearly this was my pilgramage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After saying good bye to the monk with the fantastic sense of humor we plopped ourselves down at the resort we were staying.  I laid on the beach at the Red Sea for an entire day, I even enjoyed a pizza and beer there.  Then at 2am we begun our trek into Cairo and our flights home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was an amazing two weeks and I think this blogs shows just how much we did. I was glad to come home and not have to worry about drinking the water or accidently dipping my toothbrush in the faucet but I truly enjoyed Egypt.  The people I met were welcoming and the educational vacation was interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it's back to homework and job searching, but more on that later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="400" height="267" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&amp;captions=1&amp;RGB=0x000000&amp;feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Ffossemeister%2Falbumid%2F5293078660236820801%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-8399962357339145190?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/8399962357339145190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=8399962357339145190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/8399962357339145190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/8399962357339145190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2009/03/last-egypt-blog.html' title='The Last Egypt Blog'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-5598231450974881629</id><published>2009-03-02T20:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T21:02:10.892-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Valley of the Kings</title><content type='html'>Today we went across the Nile to the otherside of Luxor where the tombs are.  Our first stop was the Valley of the Kings.  So far they've uncovered about 50 tombs and it is believed that hundreds still remain.  Admittance into the Valley grants means I could go into any 3 tombs of my choice. These tombs, like everything else in Egypt, are amazing.  Everywhere I looked was covered in vibrant heiroglyphics, either carved directly into the walls or painted on, depending on if the king died before the tomb was actually finished or not.  By this time on the trip I was actually able to recognize some of the symbols and understand at least part of the story that the artwork told.  The amount of detail was amazing to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main rule of the valley is that no photography at all is allowed.  One reason is because they want you to buy there postcards.  Another reason is that if too many people forget to turn  their flashes off the artwork will be damaged.  Luckily this is a CGU group so we don't follow the rules.  We were walking along one of the tombs and one of my group members took a picture, no flash, very subtle.  That is until another one of my group member gasped and shouted his name!  The security guard grabbed his camera which meant my group member followed.   The fine for taking a picture is 1000 Egyptian pounds which converts to about 200 US dollars.  Luckily our tour guide bargained it down to 100 Egyptian pounds.  As we were leaving the other group member that had outed the picture taker told said picture taker that they wished he had had to pay the full fine because "He was destroying the thing that I loved."  I think the heat had gotten to her but it had been a week without decent tv at this point so any source of drama was pounced on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the valley we headed over to a nobleman's tomb.  The nobleman's tomb was not as big as the kings, we had to climb down steps and crawl into the room, but the pictures were still vibrant and descriptive.  The best was the Dr. Gabra was sitting in there with us practically lying down pointing out all of the artwork and it's historical significance.  The nobleman's tomb showed a story of feasts while the workers tomb that we saw next showed a story of farmwork.  The story of the feast and farmwork would also carry over into Karnak Temple, which we saw the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the tombs we headed to Hatshepsut Temple.  Hatshepsut was the only female pharaoh and if you thought family scandal begin with English royalty, you are mistaken.  Hatshepsut took the crown of pharaoh because the eldest son was too young to rule yet.  He grew up and went off to school and when he came back, he wanted the throne.  She said no and continue to rule until she was finally forced out of power.  To demonstrate his power over his mother, Thutmose III wiped out any statue or heiroglyphic that bared her name.  Thus the temple is full of bodies with no faces.  The majority of people on the trip are Women Studies majors and they did not take too kindly to this slight.  Cabby especially decided it was time to step on her soap box and use that might Texas accent to explain to anybody who would listen how messed up it was.  And don't worry, she's still not over it.  I am going over her house this week to watch a documentary about Hatshepsut and her accomplishments. Woot. Woot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the most interesting things about this day was our interacting with our tour guide Islam.  He made some rather bold comments throughout the day.  For one he couldn't understand why anyone would be interested in Hatshepsut.  She didn't do anything.  And by not doing anything I mean she didn't go to war.  Thus she must have been a loser.  The straw that semi broke this camel's back was when he started talking about the Jews who lived in Egypt during WWII.  He claimed they were losers for leaving once Germany had occupied Egypt.  Now at first I was hot mad, but then he tried to explain himself and I realised two things, 1) he has no clue how fierce the word loser is when referring to a whole religion/culture, 2) he has no clue about Judaism at all.  When we started the conversation he thought that the Jewish religion believe in a Holy Trinity.  Right then I realized that this man was just talking out of his so I don't have to bother with taking him seriously.  But actually when I listened to what he was saying, what I think he was trying to convey was the if the Jewish community had stayed in Egypt during WWII and recognized themselves as Egyptians, then the country would have protected them and then Egypt's economy actually lost a lot since they left.  This piggy backed onto his idea that Israel is not needed since all Egyptian Jews are Egyptian first. After a long day in the sun I just chalked up our disagreement to a deluded version of Egyptian pride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="400" height="267" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&amp;captions=1&amp;RGB=0x000000&amp;feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Ffossemeister%2Falbumid%2F5308822237748216353%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-5598231450974881629?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/5598231450974881629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=5598231450974881629' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/5598231450974881629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/5598231450974881629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2009/03/valley-of-kings.html' title='Valley of the Kings'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-5192448429364995575</id><published>2009-02-25T22:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T22:29:27.390-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Luxor</title><content type='html'>We woke up bright and early the next morning and took a 1 hour flight to Luxor.  Our first stop was the Luxor Temple.  The pictures I took do not do the temple justice.  Everything was just so large scale, yet again I was in awe of the detail.  After spending about an hour at the temple we headed over to the Luxor Museum.  This was by far the most modern of the museums we visited.  Our tour guide for Luxor, Islam, was taking us through the museum and begin very detailed.  Unfortunately, we had all been up since 4am so our interest in the subject matter was outweighed by our interest to get to the hotel.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This hotel was more like a resort and Luxor overall felt geared towards European tourists.  After a nap Cabby and I joined a group of others and we took a carriage ride through downtown Luxor. Islam told us we were going to stop at a bazaar so I was getting excited to stretch my bargaining muscle yet again.  Before we went to the bazaar we went through a local market on the carriage, which made me very uncomfortable.  Shopkeepers were sitting on the ground waiting for customers and here we are, the white American tourists, riding through on our horse and carriages taking pictures of them as we sit elevated above them.  My tourist guilt overwhelmed me.  To me there are different ways travel and the most enjoyable ways are the ones where you incorporate yourself into the culture.  This carriage ride was one of the ways that I despise to travel, as if you are going through a cultural zoo and are just stopping to snap pictures of the "exotic" locals.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once my guilt subsided we arrived at the other bazaar.  Cabby and I immediately went off in search of a bag for her to pack more of her stuff in.  We stopped at one place and the man took us inside to bargain with Cabby.  After she had gotten her bag the shopkeeper asked if I wanted anything.  I told him no, that I didn't have a lot of money with him. He took this as a sign that I wanted to bargain and then started asking me to name a price for a bag.  I told him no again.  Then he turned to Cabby and asked her to leave.  She didn't of course, and I know that the reason why he wanted her to leave was so that he could offer me the same bag he just sold her at a lower price. At this point Cabby and I start leave the store.  After Cabby leaves the doorway, he blocks it with his body and says he doesn't believe me that I have no money. Well my patience was gone. The only way to get by him was to skirt around and step on his merchandise, which I did.  Cabby asked me if I was ok and I said yeah but the Jersey in me was starting to come out so I should give the bargaining a rest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the carriage ride back, we had dinner in a room that looked like it was right out the Luxor hotel in Vegas.  Then it was time to crash before another long day the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="400" height="267" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&amp;captions=1&amp;RGB=0x000000&amp;feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Ffossemeister%2Falbumid%2F5306988983559396561%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-5192448429364995575?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/5192448429364995575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=5192448429364995575' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/5192448429364995575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/5192448429364995575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2009/02/luxor.html' title='Luxor'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-2254733083657844201</id><published>2009-02-13T16:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T17:15:00.387-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Monastaries of Wadi Al-Natrun</title><content type='html'>We started off the day at the Monastery of St. Marcarius where a true miracle happened.  We were waiting for the monk to take us around on a tour when Cabby discovered that her camera battery was dead.  She turned it off and waited until the monk got there.  Then she turned it on and noticed that she had almost half battery life left!  About an hour later my watch just stopped working so we rubbed the blessed camera on top of the watch and the watch started working again! It's the miracle of St. Marcarius!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the first monastery I had ever been too and I was amazed at how serene the compound was.  It was a bright sunny day and just walking around the structure had a calming effect on us all.  Every monastery has a keep which is where the monks go if they are under attack.  At this particular monastery the keep is closed to the public but our good friend Dr. Gabra sweet talked the monks into letting us in! The keep is set up so that the monks could have everything they needed for months if they needed to stay there for safety.  There are three different levels to this keep and each level is dedicated to a different saint, with an altar for the monks to prayer and have service at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After wandering around the keep for a bit we had the honor of meeting the oldest monk in the monastery, Father John.  Father John started out with a group of monks that lived in caves in the desert during the 1960s.  After some time, the elder of his group was asked by the elder of the St. Marcarius monks to move into the monastery.  They decided it was their path to move in.  At that time 6 monks resided in the monastery.  Today, the monastery has over 130 monks and has the distinction of having a waiting list to get in.  Imagine men in the U.S. putting themselves on waiting lists to become monks.  St. Marcarius also has the distinction of never having to close its doors since its inception, which was in the first century A.D. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next monastery was located in the town of Wadi Al Natrun.  As we were driving the monastery we picked up some monks who were walking there and of course Dr. Gabra knew them.  I bought wine at this monastery and it was not the best.  When you swirled it around it left a brown residue on the glass and tasted like a bad port.  The unique thing about this monastery resides in its church.  It has been discovered that the artwork was created in layers.  Instead of destroying the oldest artwork to create new works, the artists created a layer of plaster over the oldest work and painted on that.  Thus there are three layers of artwork from various time periods.  The base layer, which would be the oldest, has been found to date back to the 8th century.  Again I was impressed by the thoughtfulness of the artists.  They covered up the artwork without destroying it, thus preserving it for the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also got to wander about the library of recovered manuscripts. The monk who was in charge of the project showed us some of the manuscripts that had been preserved.  We got see preserved papyrus leaf manuscripts and he explained the process and detail that go into preserving such things.  At one point he passed around a newly bound preserved manuscript which one of my cohort dropped. There was a gasp as we all stared at the manuscript on the ground.  Then all I heard was Cabby from across the room in her Texas drawl saying "I knew somebody was gonna drop that."  Luckily the manuscript was fine and we escaped without damaging anymore of Egyptian history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The final highlight of the day was getting to meet the bishop of the monastery.  Dr. Gabra was trying to set up a meeting with the Pope of the Coptic Church but sadly he wasn't free on the days that we would be around.  Instead the bishop of the monastery met with us and we took pictures with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This day emphasized the point of the trip from Dr. Gabra's eyes.  By having us at these monasteries taking pictures with these monks, they are able to show that there is an interest in their work and thus they can continue to get funding for the restoration of manuscripts.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We left the monasteries and then went back to the hotel to pack because the next day we were taking a flight to Luxor!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="400" height="267" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&amp;captions=1&amp;RGB=0x000000&amp;feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Ffossemeister%2Falbumid%2F5302453249439561297%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-2254733083657844201?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/2254733083657844201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=2254733083657844201' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/2254733083657844201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/2254733083657844201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2009/02/monastaries-of-wadi-al-natrun.html' title='Monastaries of Wadi Al-Natrun'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-4110075636074748145</id><published>2009-02-07T16:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T16:39:20.521-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Alexandria</title><content type='html'>We took a three hour bus ride to Alexadria where our first stop was the some Greek ruins.  The ruins looked like they were from a Greek theater and I'll be honest, if I wanted to see some Greek ruins I would have gone to Greece.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next stop was another citadel. This citadel sits right on the Mediterranean and looks like a castle.  Walking around and inside it was like being inside a really awesome playground.  There are all these different rooms that look out onto the sea, which were once used to look out for impending enemies but are now used for perfectly posed tourist pictures.  We just hung out at the citadel for about an hour enjoying the sun and the view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterwards we were supposed to go downtown for lunch but there were some demonstrations going on concerning the bombings of Gaza.  To avoid any problems we went to a place that sat right across from the beach and had an amazing meal of fish.  I asked what kind of fish it was and they told me it was sea bass.  Turns out no matter what kind of fish it is they will just tell you it is sea bass.  Apparently they don't differentiate between different kinds of fish. Hence I have no idea what kind of fish it was but I do know that this was the first time that I got a fish presented to me with it's head still on.  Awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since Egypt is a predominantly Muslim nation, the call to prayers are broadcast via loudspeakers throughout the town.  Since we were eating lunch around noon we got to see the men lining up on carpets on the sidewalks to pray and we heard the call to prayer over the loudspeaker.  Once the call to prayer was done we started to hear a new voice over a loudspeaker.  It was louder and it was repeating something over and over.  Being that we had been diverted due to protests some of us were wondering what the person was saying and were getting a little anxious.  We asked Dr. Gabra what the person was saying.  He stood up, went to the window listened for a few seconds, then smiled and said "He wants to sell you 10 tomatoes for 5 pounds."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After lunch we headed over the library of Alexandria.  Spoken like a true grad student I will admit, this library was amazing!! It was built in 2002 and through the help of international funds the library is working on digitizing it's whole collection in both Arab and English.  The inside not only has kiosks for studying and free computer usage, but sprinkled throughout it also has exhibitions of art, as well as ancient manuscripts.  The coolest think though is that they working on digitizing Napoleon's "Description L'Egypt."  It is a huge multi-volume work of descriptions of Egypt, with hand drawn pictures and Napleon's take on Egypt.  It is a big deal and it's now available online in French, soon to be posted in English and Arabic as well.  The best part, it's free.  One can just login online and see one of the most comprehensive case studies of Egypt.  Like I said, amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the library we hopped back on the bus for the long ride back to Cairo.  I would have loved to stay a few more days in Alexandria.  The coast is beautiful, a lot of people said it reminded them of San Francisco.  There was much left to explore in the library and I would have loved to eat some more sea bass.  But alas, back to C-town we went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="400" height="267" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&amp;captions=1&amp;RGB=0x000000&amp;feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Ffossemeister%2Falbumid%2F5300217661411463537%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-4110075636074748145?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/4110075636074748145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=4110075636074748145' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/4110075636074748145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/4110075636074748145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2009/02/alexandria.html' title='Alexandria'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-4171713144110546745</id><published>2009-02-03T23:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T00:43:42.033-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Islamic Cairo</title><content type='html'>In the morning we met with a professor whose doctoral dissertation at Harvard was about the first mosque we visited.  That mosque dates back to the 9th century and is centered in an area of Cairo that is well known in Egyptian folk lore.  The mosque is built on bedrock which not only has helped preserve the mosque throughout numerous earthquakes, it also emphasizes the well thought plan the 9th century architect had when building it.  When I walked inside the first thing I was struck with was the intensity of the light shining through the windows.  The light hit the other side of the wall at such an angle that the words of the Koran that were inscribed onto the wall were highlighted.  This too was not a mistake but a well thought out plan as was the fact that no matter where you started standing if you moved so as to have two windows in the center of your eyesight when you look left and right you will be guided directly to where the prayers occurred.  Also this mosque didn't have any pillars which actually means that the sultan who built it did not want to damage any churches or synagogues by taking their pillars which I think is a thoughtful gesture.  Sadly though because the mosque did not look like the other mosques around it never caught on as THE place to worship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next mosque we went to was the Mosque-Madrassa of Sultan Hassan.  This mosque served also as a school and the professor had us sit down in one of the "classrooms" as he talked about the architecture and history of the mosque.  The mosque dated back to the 12th century and was built by the Sultan Hassan who was 13 when he ascended the throne.  In a room adjacent to the main courtyard is a crypt where the Sultan wanted to be buried.  Unfortunately for him he was a bit of an ego maniac and not well liked so his death was not an accident and his body was most definitely not put into the crypt.  While we were at the mosque we met the Iman of the mosque who took us into the crypt and sang us the call to prayer.  The acoustics in the room were awesome and the Iman's tenor voice rang through the room giving me chills.  Even without understanding the words I could tell that he was singing with conviction and with all of his heart.  It was one of the most special moments on the trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a lunch of hummus and falafel we were let loose in a local bazaar.  This bazaar went on for at least 10 blocks in every direction and as much as it's said to be local it is very much a touristy place, but very fun nonetheless.  My roommate and I started walking through and we were getting a lot of attention.  First off she's 6' and blond haired so she stuck out.  Furthermore she kept on saying out loud how much she liked something and then we would get bombarded with shopkeepers who wanted to bargain with her.  I finally just blurted out to her that she had to keep her likes and dislikes to herself so we could keep walking.  Thankfully, she's got a sense of humor.  My first purchase of the day was a hookah which was one thing I was determined to by while in Egypt.  After that I really wanted to buy some scarves.  I found a shopkeeper whose scarves I liked and he had me go into his store.  Cathy was a little further up ahead of me so I yelled her name, got her attention, then went into the store.  The shopkeeper started showing me different scarves and showing me how fire proof they were by holding a lighter to them but I was distracted because Cathy still hadn't come into the store. The guy is starting to bargain and I tell him that I can't bargain until I find my friend.  Just then she walks past the door so I yell out "Cathy" and the shopkeeper who is trying to be helpful so that I will be his stuff starts yelling too, except he's saying "Cabby."  Eventually she hears us and comes in and I bargain and I have a blast doing it.  Seriously though I am really good at bargaining, it brings out the competitive nature in me and I seem to get good deals. So we left the bazaar with a hookah, 3 scarves, and a new nickname for Cathy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the bazaar a bunch of us walked down to the Nile river and hopped on a boat for a little night time cruise.  That's right.  I took a party boat down the Nile.  Would you expect anything less?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="400" height="267" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&amp;RGB=0x000000&amp;feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Ffossemeister%2Falbumid%2F5298856596779869745%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-4171713144110546745?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/4171713144110546745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=4171713144110546745' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/4171713144110546745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/4171713144110546745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2009/02/islamic-cairo.html' title='Islamic Cairo'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-5616498386125877052</id><published>2009-01-31T22:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T22:53:56.877-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pyramids!</title><content type='html'>After a good night's sleep we awoke on Christmas Day and drove through empty streets to the pyramids of Giza.  There are 9 pyramids in Giza and we were able to see three of them.  Only 300 people are allowed inside the pyramids each day in order to preserve the insides and protect it from humidity and human interaction.  Sadly when we arrived at 10am all of the tickets for that day had already been sold so no inside of the pyramid for me but the outside was well worth it.  Pictures and words can barely explain the vastness of these pyramids.  One block was about the height of me!  I was truly in awe of the amount of time and engineering that had to have gone into these pyramids.  And what I find most amazing is all of it was just to send the pharaoh off into the afterlife.  That's a lot of preparation.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing that I found trying while being at the pyramids was that it is a definite tourist trap.  People will walk along side you and put things on you are try to get you take something from them and then start demanding money.  I found it to be a disconcerting situation at times.  I was standing with my arms folded and a man came up and put postcards on top of my folded arms.  I just kept on saying no thank you and shaking my head until he finally got the hint and took his stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the pyramids we went straight to the Sphinx.  I would find out through the trip that the object of the sphinx is present in a lot of other temples but what makes this one special is it's size.  I would also like to point out that I find it messed up that the Pizza Hut on 22 closed and yet you can go to one right across the street from the Sphinx.  Thank you globalization.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to lunch at this amazing place where I got to indulge in hummus, falafel, chicken liver, and beer.  It was one of my favorite meals of the trip.  A day where you see the pyramids, a sphinx, have some falafel, and a beer with your professor is a good day in my book&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But alas the day was not over.  After lunch we headed over to the Egyptian Museum where we got a tour from the recently retired director of the Museum, who just so happens to be Dr. Gabra's good old friend.  The Museum is huge and it took about four hours to walk through.  We saw the only piece of heiroglyphics that has the word Israel inscribed. I got to see mummies and some of the gold from inside King Tut's tomb.  The director also told some interesting stories about how some of the pieces actually got into the museum, i.e. people stole the stuff from the original sights and the museum had to work with the robbers as well as other countries to negotiate it's return to Egypt.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope by now you can get the gist that our days were jam packed with activities so that by the time we got back to the hotel all we did was relax for a bit and go to sleep.  Sadly, I didn't experience much of any nightlife while in Egypt but the days more than made up for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="400" height="267" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&amp;captions=1&amp;RGB=0x000000&amp;feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Ffossemeister%2Falbumid%2F5297716327488000177%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-5616498386125877052?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/5616498386125877052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=5616498386125877052' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/5616498386125877052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/5616498386125877052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2009/01/pyramids.html' title='The Pyramids!'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-767590978192425897</id><published>2009-01-27T08:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T09:23:37.070-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Old Cairo and Christmas Eve</title><content type='html'>The next day of our visit we started with the Coptic Museum which is housed within the walls of the old Babylonian fortress in Old Cairo.  Dr. Gabra used to be the curator of this museum so we were lucky enough to have him take us through and point out pieces of interest.  He also gave us insight as to why certain things were placed in certain places, from the eye of the curator.  The museum incorporated recovered stairs and church ceilings to be its own.  The courtyards contained columns and capitals from demolished monasteries.  Everywhere you looked no matter where you were in the museum you would see artifacts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After lunch, we went to Old Cairo. Here there are five churches, a synagogue, and a mosque that were all contained within Babylonian fortress walls back in the day.  One of the churches didn't even have a foundation, it just simply rested atop the walls of the old fortress.  Another of the churches is what's known as the cave church.  It is believed that the holy family visited the cave church which makes the small church a special place for many Christians.  After visiting the cave church we evened things out a bit by visiting the oldest synagogue in Cairo.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole afternoon we were within the old fortress walls.  Lining these walls now are merchants and Ministry of Tourism police, all with something to say to the tourists.  The most popular phrase seems to be "Aloha, Yankee Doodle, Welcome to Alaska,"  followed up in a close second by "Bama Obama, want to buy? Only a dollar."  On the way back to the hotel I saw a poster that was had President Bush with a construction hat on and next to him was Hitler also with a construction hat and a swastika.  Now I couldn't read the Arabic printed on the poster but I pretty much got the gist that certain people in Cairo were glad that the inauguration was soon.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night we got invited to a Christmas Eve service. We piled into taxis (which are really like Mini Coopers but without the style and paint and power) and arrived at the church a little late.  The place was packed and most of the teenagers were just chilling outside in the street talking the their friends while the service inside was broadcast from loud speakers attached to the church.  We make our ways in and the Bishop who was welcoming everyone stops to invite us all down to the front row. We are all just trying to sit down quickly so some of us(me) didn't notice until a little later that the room was divided with men on one side and women on the other.  Guess who was on the wrong side? No one seemed to care until there was some room on the women's side.  As soon as some women got up to leave the man sitting next to me pointed and told me to go.  So I did.  I sat down at the first available chair I saw and wouldn't you know it that sucker was broken.  The front left leg was leaning like it was gonna snap at any minute.  I'm leaning on the pew grabbing my roomie Cathy and telling her that I'm gonna fall.  What's worst is that I am in the line of sight of the video camera if I do fall everyone will see.  Luckily they were about to start communion which was our cue to leave.  Back we went to the hotel to rest up for another busy day in Cairo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once we got back to the hotel Cathy wanted to get some chocolate cake ordered to the room.  This is kind of how that went: "Yes, I'd like two pieces of chocolate cake."(pause)"Chocolate cake."(pause)"Two. Well not two whole cakes just two pieces so that two people can eat. Ok."  She hangs up and tells me that he kept on saying English cake and then said he was no good on the phone and is coming up the room.  A little more of the same happens when he's up in the room and when he finally comes back with our chocolate cake...there isn't a speck of chocolate on the thing.  Instead we got pound cake with cherries cut up inside.  That was our one and only foray into room service in Egypt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="400" height="267" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&amp;captions=1&amp;RGB=0x000000&amp;feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Ffossemeister%2Falbumid%2F5296023764887633793%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-767590978192425897?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/767590978192425897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=767590978192425897' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/767590978192425897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/767590978192425897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2009/01/old-cairo-and-christmas-eve.html' title='Old Cairo and Christmas Eve'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-2507740112647667324</id><published>2009-01-25T10:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T11:41:29.318-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Egypt!</title><content type='html'>It's been awhile but now I have something to blog about!  Over my last winter break ever I went on a school sponsored trip to Egypt.   The trip was 14 days all around Egypt and the focus of the trip was Coptic (Egyptian Christian) Art.  The professor who took us, Dr. Gabra, is Egyptian and the man to go to when studying Coptic Art.  But before starting the trip I had to get there.  I took a 10.5 hours overnight flight from JFK to Cairo airport.  I got in at 10a, our first group thing was at 2:30p, and I was suffering a 7 hour time difference so jet lag sucked.  I met my roommate Cathy while we were waiting for the JFK flight.  She is from Texas and she enjoys a sarcastic sense of humor so we got along great.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 2:30 we went to the Coptic Institute where modern Coptic art is being produced.  We got to see the art and meet the artists.  The art is very detailed.  It involves layers, first starting with a sketch, then using gold leaf and other colors the icon is finished.  Each color has a significance.  For example, gold leaf represents eternity, blue is heaven, brown is rust.  The artists also showed us their portfolios where they had more paintings but also wall mosaics.  These mosaics are massive and the amount of time, energy, and detail that must have gone into them left me in awe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the art institute we went to St. Mark's Church.  The day was January 5 and Egyptian Christmas eve was to be the next day so we got to see all of the preparations being done.  The church was massive and as with any church the stained glass windows and ornate designs of woodwork were beautiful.  What sets most Egyptian churches apart from US churches is that the saint namesake probably visited Egypt whereas the US cannot claim that.  In fact proof does exist that St. Mark walked in Alexandria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After seeing the church we ended the day so that everyone could get ready for dinner and those of us who were still jet lagged could try to sleep some more.  Getting back to the hotel involved a lot of traffic, partly because this is Cairo and partly because the French President was in town to conduct peace talks concerning the Gaza strip.  There were demonstrations being held outside of certain buildings.  There were some in the group making stupid comments like "Did anyone buy terrorism insurance?" but to be honest I felt safe the entire time I was in Egypt.  We had a hired gun with us the whole time and the Ministry of Tourism Police worked well with our driver and gunman to ensure that we avoided places where demonstrations were taking place.  Tourism is a big economic market for Egypt.  The last thing they want is for tourists to get injured.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once we got back to the hotel we watched some tv.  The only English speaking station was Al-Jazeera and they were reporting non-stop on the situation in Gaza.  Now I don't know how the conflict was portrayed in US news but Al-Jazeera was in my opinion decidedly pro-Palestine.  They would consistently show pictures of injured or dead children and their grieving parents.  Mention of Hamas was in my opinion kept to a minimum.  It is always interesting to see news reported from different countries.  The US has their own spin on things and since I grew up on that spin I assume it to be the truth and then when I leave the country I am reminded that it is not truth and every situation succumbs to human bias.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One rule in Egypt for us is that we must not drink the water, not even to brush our teeth.  The first day, Cathy and I went to the local store to buy some bottled water and found out quickly that we had no clue what we were doing.  We grabbed four bottles and Cathy said she would pay for them all since both of us had big bills from the exchange place.  She paid and then this guy comes in and holds his hands out as if for me to give him my bottles of water.  I don't and then he asks if I want a bag and I say it's ok and then he tries to charge me again for my water.  Keep in my mind I know no Arabic and his English is broken.  The other shopkeeper gets involved and tries to explain to the other guy that Cathy already paid and then the cashier gets involved and we think he's saying that Cathy owes him another 50 pounds which is ridiculous since we only paid 12 to begin with but he is actually telling us how much change he gave us. In the end we were able to leave the store without being accused of stealing and without giving more money but it just goes to show you that it takes 5 people and 5 minutes to buy 4 bottles of water. (How's that for a word problem?)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="width:400px;font-family:arial,sans-serif;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="400" height="267" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&amp;captions=1&amp;RGB=0x000000&amp;feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Ffossemeister%2Falbumid%2F5295311174016868593%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="float:left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/fossemeister/EgyptDay1" style="color:#3964c2"&gt;View Album&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align:right;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/getEmbed" style="color:#3964c2"&gt;Get your own&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-2507740112647667324?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/2507740112647667324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=2507740112647667324' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/2507740112647667324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/2507740112647667324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2009/01/egypt.html' title='Egypt!'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-8897731625354389942</id><published>2008-07-14T15:04:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T15:46:43.953-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Went to Math Camp and Didn't Even Get a Free T-Shirt</title><content type='html'>I know you all have been on the edge of your seats this entire summer waiting for me to blog about math camp. Well wait no more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Math Camp was broken up into two weeks.  The first week I was at Rennsellar Polytechnic Institute in NY and the second I was at Worcester Polytechnic Institute in MA.  The first week basically tries to prepare the grad students for the second week.  We divided into groups and worked on either previously solved problems or problems that needed further work.  The problem I worked on dealt with diffusion through the lens of the eye.  We had data provided to us and we used what we learned about the chemistry and biology of the lens to create a model that would describe the data.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were seven of us in our group which is quite large and for three days we sat in a windowless, clockless room and worked on this problem.  Over those three days I learned a lot:  what Bessel functions are, in England you call an eraser a board rubber, group work is incredibly tiring, and I'm still bossy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the last day we presented our findings, packed up and left for Worcester.  We had the weekend free though so I took a side trip to Amherst and hung out with some friends there which was great as always.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At Worcester the grad students were no longer in control.  These problems were "live" problems, meaning no one had solved them.  Since they were live they were pretty difficult so the groups consisted of 3-4 professors and some grad students.  The students role was to the grunt work like taking notes and typing them up.  It was actually pretty interesting to sit in the back and watch these profs up at the board yelling at each and writing over each other to prove their points. It showed how no one's write 100% of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The group I was in was working on a problem dealing with air bubbles in LCD screens.  It dealt with fluid dynamics, which I know nothing about.  Luckily, a professor from my university was at the camp and knew my shortcomings so every so often he would come over and get me up to speed about what the professors were yelling about.  By the end of the week we had a decent amount accomplished that we were able to present to Corning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Math camp was fun but it was tiring.  After it was all done I stayed in Boston for a few days and caught up with some college friends.  Those stories are way more interesting than math camp and will be relayed in the coming days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-8897731625354389942?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/8897731625354389942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=8897731625354389942' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/8897731625354389942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/8897731625354389942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2008/07/went-to-math-camp-and-didnt-even-get.html' title='Went to Math Camp and Didn&apos;t Even Get a Free T-Shirt'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-4843733439615541924</id><published>2008-06-05T19:25:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T19:39:40.230-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The life and times of a nomad</title><content type='html'>I survived my first year in grad school and I did quite well if I do say so myself.  Not only are my grades good but I found a nice group of friends, have an ok work study job, AND I have a season pass to Disneyland.  I'm gonna pat myself on the back for that one.  One of my final papers was posted by my prof on their website check it out at www.math.hmc.edu/~levy/181_web/181_finalprojects_2008.html.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing I lack right now is a place to live.  My lease was up at the house and my land lady was getting more passive aggressive by the day so I decided it was time to pack up all of my things and move into my own studio apartment.  The only problem is that this brand new studio apartment does not become mine until August.  Whoops.  But have no fear, a moocher always has a plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I am in Ohio spending some quality time with the ladies, who I haven't seen since Thanksgiving.  I am enjoying taking up space on their couch, baking cookies, and playing guitar hero until my hand cramps.  Sadly the fun will end this weekend when I venture to NY for (drum roll please) Math Camp!  That's right.  Just when you thought I had reached my pinnacle of geekdom I have managed to surpass it by signing up for a graduate math camp.  The first three days I and other aspiring mathemagicians will work on problems presented to us by the faculty of RPI.  After those three days we will travel to Worcester where new problems will be presented.  This time the problems are from industry and the work groups are comprised of scientists, professors, and lowly grad students such as myself.  We will work on our problem for five days and present our findings to the industry rep so as they can take it back and do what they please with it.  Not only am I getting to do math for two weeks in the summer and working some networking opportunities, I am doing this all on their dime. The whole trip: travel, food, lodging is payed for. It's a math moochers paradise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the camp is over I am staying a couple of days in Boston to catch up with some college friends.  Then it's back to LA where I will be doing a cycle of couch surfing that will have me alternating where I lay my head from B-digs apt/air mattress, to Susie the mom of the kid I tutor's couch.  All the while working and getting a tan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barring Briana realizing that I mooch a little too much off of her, this couch surfing rotation should get me through to August where I will finally have my first apartment of my own.  Now tell me that's not skill.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-4843733439615541924?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/4843733439615541924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=4843733439615541924' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/4843733439615541924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/4843733439615541924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2008/06/life-and-times-of-nomad.html' title='The life and times of a nomad'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-3203587631628081629</id><published>2008-06-02T05:12:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T05:14:28.742-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Favorite Airport Ever</title><content type='html'>Charlotte NC Airport has rocking chairs, free wireless, and customers proudly "reading" Playboy magazines while waiting for their flights.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-3203587631628081629?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/3203587631628081629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=3203587631628081629' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/3203587631628081629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/3203587631628081629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2008/06/favorite-airport-ever.html' title='Favorite Airport Ever'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-308093578383137607</id><published>2008-04-18T02:04:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T02:07:03.108-07:00</updated><title type='text'>really?</title><content type='html'>Next night, same road, same time, same freaking cat!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I in a Truman Show-like world?  Trust me, I can take it.  I am pretty convinced the world revolves around me to begin with so if you all just admit that you are characters in a reality tv show with me as the star I would believe it.  I swear.  All I want is the truth.  I can handle the truth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodnight.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although you probably already knew I was going to go to bed at this hour didn't you? Is it scripted? I want answers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-308093578383137607?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/308093578383137607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=308093578383137607' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/308093578383137607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/308093578383137607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2008/04/really.html' title='really?'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-7781566250696587074</id><published>2008-04-17T00:25:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T00:37:53.651-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Roadkill Etiquette</title><content type='html'>It's finals time here at CGU and as I was leaving the library tonight and driving home, someone's house cat ran into the middle of the street.  I gasped and slammed on my brakes and luckily I didn't hit the cat.  But my mind started to wander as I continued driving and the question arose, what would I have done if I had actually hit the cat?  I mean clearly I would have felt bad, but what is the etiquette? It was midnight, do you knock on doors to let people know what happened and try to find the owner?  Do you just move the cat to the sidewalk so it doesn't keep getting run over?  or do you just drive away and feel bad for awhile?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are things that go through my mind after a marathon library session....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-7781566250696587074?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/7781566250696587074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=7781566250696587074' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/7781566250696587074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/7781566250696587074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2008/04/roadkill-etiquette.html' title='Roadkill Etiquette'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-3719738961712273267</id><published>2008-04-09T17:05:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T17:16:59.694-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And Another Thing About Vegas</title><content type='html'>One night we were in the casino Paris and there was a Cabaret singer performing so we sat down and watched.  The woman had an awesome voice but her voice wasn't the main focal point of the event.  To the right of us were three men that were Papa Fosse's age.  The table to the next of them were three girls who were 21 at the oldest.  The guys were talking to them and then all of the girls got up to go to the bathroom.  When they returned they saw that the three men had bought them glasses of champagne with strawberries in them.  Cute or weird? I can't tell.  If it were a tequila shot I would go straight for the weird button.  But champagne and a strawberry falls into the Shirley Temple-esque category and I construe it as three guys being nostalgic and treating these girls they way they would their grandkids.  So I say cute.  The girls didn't think so though because they downed the drinks and bounced as soon as they could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next up came the cute couple who made everyone else jealous.  A song came on and suddenly on the dance floor is this petite blond woman who is in her fifties and her gorgeous fifty-something husband/boyfriend.  They started dancing and it was legit dancing.  I felt like I was watching a pilot for My Momma Can Dance.  They were really good, he was twirling her and throwing her up in the air and they did it all with smiles on their faces.  I couldn't help it though.  All I could think was that soon the singer was going to drop her voice a couple of octaves and recommend Cyalis to the gentlemen in the back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, back to homework.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-3719738961712273267?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/3719738961712273267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=3719738961712273267' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/3719738961712273267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/3719738961712273267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2008/04/and-another-thing-about-vegas.html' title='And Another Thing About Vegas'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-7890337857925339471</id><published>2008-04-05T19:12:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T19:42:21.021-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring break Part Deux</title><content type='html'>After the fun in Medieval Times was had the only way to really top it was to drive 3 hours northeast and go to my long awaited Xanadu....Vegas!!  Originally the trip was going to be four of us but slowly that whittled down to me and Elise.  We stayed at the Luxor, the one that looks like a pyramid.  It was a pretty nice hotel.  My favorite part was that the parking structure was in the shape of an Egyptian Sphynx and our hotel room had  a perfect view of the Sphynx's ass.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clearly the after a few minutes in the room we made our first batch of mixed drinks, put them in keg cups, filled up my nalgene with the rest, and filled my backpack full of beer.  This was a drinking night, NOT a gambling night.  Elise and I just walked through all of the casinos that are on that side of the strip: New York New York, Excalibur, MGM Grand, and I think there was another one in there but lets be honest, I had no clue where I was at any point in time...I just followed Elise (I am my mother's daughter).  We walked around and at one point Elise commented that she wasn't really feeling the alcohol.  I agreed.  But then we came upon this computer screen in the middle of the floor.  It was touch sensitive and was displaying a fish bowl.  So when you stepped on the screen there was a ripple effect in the water and the fishies would swim away.  Well Elise and I proceeded to dance around on the screen singing "Singing in the Rain."  It goes without saying that it was a good thing we didn't place bets on us being sober. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We wound up going to a night club that night also.  We were going to go to Studio 54 but there was a long line and I just refuse to stand in lines anywhere outside of NY.  So we went to Taboo.  The dj was awesome the people were alright.  My favorite part of the night was when Elise and I were standing on the side finishing up our drinks and this guy just goes right next to Elise and puts his arm around her.  She just looks at him with this "are you kidding me?" face.  I chose to verbalize by just looking at him and saying "Really?  Really?! No."  Classic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next couple of days were more the same thing with some slot playing involved.  We were both doing pretty good on slots, but on Monday we decided to try our luck at the tables.  We started the day off at the $10 min tables in Bally's where we learned how to play roulette and blackjack.  Blackjack is my new favorite game.  I would throw $40 down to play and an hour later I would leave the table with over $100.  It was sweet.  What I really like about blackjack is that everyone is betting against the dealer so that people try to help you decided whether to hit or not.  If you hit and you shouldn't have you might mess up somebody else's hand.  Case in point:  I was at this table and the guy to the left of me was being real friendly and helping me out remembering what to do if the dealer is showing a four and all that jazz.  He kept on saying that I didn't have to take his advice if I didn't want to, it was my money.  Well on one hand I decided to not take his advice and I hit.  I busted and the card that busted me would have given the guy to the left of me a really good hand.  He proceeded to get pissed off.  He wouldn't let it go.  He just kept on mumbling to himself about me not taking his advice.  The dealer and everyone else at the table were getting uneasy.  They could tell this guy was upset and they didn't really know how I was going to react, was I going to fly off the handle?  Leave the table?  No no no.  The guy asked me why I didn't listen to him and I said "It's how I roll."  Everyone at the table started laughing which pissed this guy off even more.  At this point he started muttering to himself "It's how she rolls, It's how she rolls." The dealer just looks at the two of us and asked if we were married.  I laughed and promptly cashed out my winnings and left the table. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all it was a great four days.  Outside of Blackjack, the Price is Right slot machine at Planet Hollywood was very nice to me.  Beginner's luck certainly rang true for me and Elise, we both left with more money than we came with.  Enough money, in fact, that we made back what the trip cost and then some.  I can't wait to go back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of my week was just spent hanging out and then on Friday I went to Disneyland for the whole day.  It was awesome.  A bunch more of my friends got season passes which is great.  We also bought these buzz lightyear guns that are just awesome.  My one friend did a rolling jump out of the store just to shoot us.  Hilarious.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it's back to the school grind which really isn't that bad.  The weather is still beautiful, I spent Easter Sunday on the beach.  As far as summer plans go, they aren't really hashed out yet.  All I really know for sure is I am moving at the end of May.  I don't where I'm moving to, but that stuff just figures itself out, right?  If all else fails, watch out I might be coming to a couch near you...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-7890337857925339471?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/7890337857925339471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=7890337857925339471' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/7890337857925339471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/7890337857925339471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2008/04/spring-break-part-deux.html' title='Spring break Part Deux'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-8332436947858898580</id><published>2008-03-20T19:08:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T21:33:50.097-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday and Spring Break Festivities (Part 1)</title><content type='html'>As some of you may know the word birthday doesn't properly describe the amount of times I force people to go out and celebrate my birth.  It used to be that birthmonth was a better description of my celebration but as I get older I have scaled back my celebration to a birthfortnight. The beauty of the birthfortnight is that it still encompasses St. Patrick's Day AND since I refuse to leave academia I still get a spring break that usually falls within the birthfortnight also.  Being that I was in a new town planning the birthfortnight was a little tricky.  I didn't know the lay of the land and I don't really party as much as I used to (because of grad school NOT maturity OR old age) so I was stumped for a bit on what to do.  But then good ole kismet kicked in.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of my friends and I were driving back from Disneyland (where I know have a season pass to) and we passed a billboard about Medieval Times.  I thought the only MT was in Jersey but I was mistaken.  Through I simple conversation I had find out that all of my Claremont friends had never been to MT.  Now lets be clear, I had to go to MT two times on class trips and both times were horrendous.  I hate the food and anytime a I had spend an entire day with my entire class was usually a recipe for disaster.  But being a good Jersey girl I realized I had to suck it up, do my duty, and introduce these graduate students to the wondrous cheesiness that is Medieval Times!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one detail that I didn't know about Medieval Times but that made it even better was there was beer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iyz1Q6j3DdQ/R-xxBQ-STvI/AAAAAAAAABM/8l5jkzA-0Oo/s1600-h/n8601083_42102929_1917.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iyz1Q6j3DdQ/R-xxBQ-STvI/AAAAAAAAABM/8l5jkzA-0Oo/s320/n8601083_42102929_1917.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182641537746620146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beer made the roast chicken taste better.  Ha! Who am I kidding? I traded my chicken for an extra spare rib.  Anyway, we were cheering for the Yellow Knight and it was fantastic.  We were screaming, hooting, and hollering any chance we could get. It also turns out that my friends paid a little extra to get the birthday package.  This package was high class.  Not only did I get a group picture of all of us, I also got an official program, AND a dvd copy of the knight's festivities. (hahaha get it?).  But wait that's not all!  I also got a birthday shout out by the king himself!  That's right, after they welcomed north shore high school, and wished johnny a happy thirteenth birthday, there was a shout out for a happy 25th birthday for Lyza Fosse! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside: Lyza wasn't actually a mispronunciation of my name.  There is another friend of mine named Elise and it's been hard to distinguish between the two of us.  It got to the point that we were being addressed as PhD Elise and Masters Elyse.  I wasn't really cool with that.  Then we were all at this part and this guy kept on calling me Lyza.  No kidding it was at least the third time I had met him and everytime he's been all "Hey Lyza" and I've been all "umm it's Elyse."  But Meryl has always taught me you correct somebody three times and after that it's just not worth it.  So my friends caught wind that this guy was calling me Lyza and the name stuck.  A new nickname.  Great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time at Medieval Times was by far the best the experience I've had there.  Don't fret though, the next part of the birthday festivities was even better...Vegas!!(Coming soon).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-8332436947858898580?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/8332436947858898580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=8332436947858898580' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/8332436947858898580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/8332436947858898580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2008/03/birthday-and-spring-break-festivities.html' title='Birthday and Spring Break Festivities (Part 1)'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iyz1Q6j3DdQ/R-xxBQ-STvI/AAAAAAAAABM/8l5jkzA-0Oo/s72-c/n8601083_42102929_1917.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-6429568982843314338</id><published>2008-02-09T14:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-09T14:18:47.525-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I love So Cal</title><content type='html'>It's February 9th, sunny and 76 degrees.  'Nuff said.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-6429568982843314338?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/6429568982843314338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=6429568982843314338' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/6429568982843314338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/6429568982843314338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2008/02/why-i-love-so-cal.html' title='Why I love So Cal'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-8067734151391589906</id><published>2007-12-24T13:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-24T13:30:04.408-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The American Gladiators taping was a lot of fun.  We got to see Hulk Hogan stare lovingly into the giant screen as old wrestling clips of himself were shown.  We got to see Layla Ali tell a contestant that they should do more pull-ups so that they don't lose so badly next time. Oh and we got to see the new gladiators.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The competition we saw was hang tough.  That's the one where the contestant tries to make it across the rings before the Gladiator catches them and makes them fall.  If you remember the American Gladiators from the early nineties, picture all the times they fell onto pads and replace the pads with water.  The action was pretty cool but I have to say that the thing I enjoyed the most were the contestants responses to the questions they were being asked.  A sampling is:&lt;br /&gt;"I just tried to keep her legs as far apart as possible."&lt;br /&gt;"I just wanted to avoid the wetness"&lt;br /&gt;"Once her legs wrapped around me I knew I had to take a dive."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dirty minds!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, my first semester of grad school is done.  I am pretty sure that I got two B's.  Not exactly what I was hoping for, but this semester was the most challenging one I have ever gone through.  I spoke with the dean of the math department before I left and he helped put it all in perspective.  He said that the two classes I took were among the hardest that they offered and that I struggled not because I took time off but because the classes are genuinely difficult.  I am just glad that I finished and am focusing on next semester.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now I am home in Jersey enjoying family and friends.  See you in the new year!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-8067734151391589906?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/8067734151391589906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=8067734151391589906' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/8067734151391589906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/8067734151391589906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2007/12/american-gladiators-taping-was-lot-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-5686832665065455525</id><published>2007-11-27T22:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-02T23:07:22.874-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Does Not Equal Four</title><content type='html'>A couple of weeks before Thanksgiving my friends from the now defunct UPS Store came out for a visit.  The week was full of excitement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First was the trip to Universal Studios.  I feel like I need to put this trip into a little bit of context.  Technically, it wasn't my first time at Universal Studios.  The first time I was around 7 or 8 and my family was in Orlando FL.  We met up with my Aunt Janet, Uncle Mark, and two cousins to experience the amazing newly opened Universal Studios.  We go on the ET ride which was fun and then my mom suggested the Murder She Wrote tour.  Being a seven year old I never really watched the show but I do remember that every Sunday when I went in to kiss my mom good night good ole Angela Lansbury was solving some mystery on screen.  Anyway, I don't remember much about the ride until the end.  Everyone was getting up to leave but the doors wouldn't open.  Turns out the computers in the brand new park were still a little glitchy and one of the glitch's was that when the computers froze or shut down the doors would remained closed and locked.  Great.  A comedian from the audience seized his chance to make his big break and have a captive audience fall in love with him...that is until he realized that there were children in the room and his schtick probably wouldn't be appropriate.  We eventually did get out, only to find that the computer glitch had shut down the whole park.  Well my Aunt Janet found that unacceptable and found some manager and gave them a piece of her mind. It must have been a pretty upset piece since we were escorted out the back way.  We left to the sounds of the Jetsons theme song playing and my Aunt yelling to the song to shut up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So again, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;technically&lt;/span&gt; this wasn't my first time at Universal.  The first thing we do is go to the Fear Factor live show.  Well we go to the show but Charlie, Michele's husband decides to be a contestant on the show.  We not only get to see Charlie in spandex but we also get to see him eat something disgusting, pull flags out of eel-infested waters, AND get shocked!  To top it all off, he won the contest!  This time at Universal instead of being escorted out, we got escorted to the front of every line!  I got to go on all of the rides I wanted and we got an awesome picture of the us all screaming on a ride. I feel like my journey with Universal Studios has come full circle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next night me and Steph went to an Anaheim Ducks game.  I have issues.  Their chants are ridiculous and they are too nice.  Let's start with the chants.  Let's Go Ducks has three syllables and yet the crowd tried to fit it into the Let's Go Rangers chant.  Three doesn't equal four! Chanting "Let's Go Duh-ucks" does not create an extra syllable it just makes it sound like everyone forgot who they were cheering for in the middle of the chant.  Take an example from the Mets or Jets, they know they are a syllable short and thus can't use that chant.  Instead they made up their own.  How about "Do it Ducks?" or you can still use the Ranger chant but instead speed it up.  Instead of "Let's Go Rangers" in the same amount of time say "Let's Go Ducks Let's Go Ducks."  This is the method I prefer and the chant I used at the game.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onto the niceness.  The Ducks were playing the Sharks and there were some Shark fans by us who were being pretty obnoxious.  At one point one of them fell into the seat in front of him.  Instead of the Ducks fans getting mad and chanting "Throw him Out" they helped him up and a little while later took his picture for him.  Are you kidding me?!  To make matters worse, the refs made a bad call.  Instead of the typical "A**hole" chant that I know I love I was stuck with "You suck Ref."  Lame.&lt;br /&gt;I know what you're thinking, this niceness is that thing called good sportsmanship but like the man in the parking lot said after the Ducks win, "This is hockey not figure skating."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steph and Michele came and went and then I went on to spend Thanksgiving with my friends Rachel and Keri, who I lived with for a year when I moved back to MA after New Zealand.  Thanksgiving was great and relaxing, a perfect break before the final leg of the semester.  I have one more week and then I am done with my first semester.  Lots of things need to get done by the time I leave for home: finals, projects, holiday parties, Disneyland, Yosemite, American Gladiator live taping....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-5686832665065455525?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/5686832665065455525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=5686832665065455525' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/5686832665065455525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/5686832665065455525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2007/11/three-does-not-equal-four.html' title='Three Does Not Equal Four'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16100402.post-2871536922506214074</id><published>2007-10-27T20:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-27T21:16:31.090-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An Oldy But Goodie</title><content type='html'>I am getting ready to go out to a Halloween party and I can't help thinking back to my last Halloween at UMass.  I can't remember whose been told this story but I htink its pretty funny I think it deserves to be posted.  So here it goes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was my senior year at UMass and I was Mary Catherine Gallagher from SNL (think hands in armpits and superstar) for Halloween.  My friend Calen called me up and invited me to a Halloween party out on a farm.  So I hopped in the car with my knee highs, plaid skirt, yellow polo shirt, red vest and black rimmed glasses.  There was a lot of people at this party and a couple of kegs had already been picked when me and my friends went on the last haunted hay ride of the night.  It had been raining for a couple of hours so I ran back to the car to get my jacket.  By the time I got to the tractor my friends were up at the front so I just hopped onto the back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started moving and right away you can just feel that this tractor is just full, almost too full.  We start plodding away into the dark muddy trail.  We can hear chainsaws in the distance but we really don't see much of anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We start heading up this hill and the tractor stalls.  Well I'm the last person on the tractor so as we stop I fall off, heals over my head, skirt up in the air, into the muddy trail.  As I am trying to get up, the tractor starts rolling backwards toward me, so yet a again I fall backwards into the mud.  Everyone was yelling at the driver, Molly, to stop so she did, and then she started going forward again.  This is a multi-acre farm, it's dark and muddy, the last thing I need is to be left in the middle of it.  Eventually Molly catches on to what is going and stops and I hop back on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, the only thing that was hurt was my ego, but we still had to get through the rest of the hayride.  There was a 40-something man sitting next to me who reeked like a distillery.  He puts his arm around me and says in a gruff MA accent "I'm not trying to hit on ya hun, we just can't have you falling off again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get done with the ride and I meet back up with my friends and like good friends they handed me a beer and then just laughed at me.  I was a pretty sad sight. There was mud caked all over me, and it wasn't like we were leaving any time soon.  It also turns out that the players of the haunted hayride were drunk and thought that the rides were over so we never actually did get haunted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever Melissa, Paul, or Calen introduce me to new people this is the story that is told about me and I'm ok with that.  In the words of the 40-something man that sat next to me, "It could have been worse, it could have been cow shit."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Halloween!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16100402-2871536922506214074?l=fosse.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/feeds/2871536922506214074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16100402&amp;postID=2871536922506214074' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/2871536922506214074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16100402/posts/default/2871536922506214074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fosse.blogspot.com/2007/10/oldy-but-goodie.html' title='An Oldy But Goodie'/><author><name>Elyse</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13481465749818352534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05191927245925516283'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry></feed>