Password protected

In order for me to sign on to Blogger in the future I need to open a Google e-mail account. At one point you have to pick a password to access your e-mail account. It was here I decided to have some fun. Google analyzes your passwords and tells you (in their modest opinion) how good they think it is and how well it will protect you. I should mention that they ask for a minimum of 6 digits on your password. First, I put in the easiest password I could think of (123456). To my surprise I was told in bright red letters that password is BAD!! I put in my regular password (I'm not telling you what it is) and was told in mild green that my password was good. Not to be defeated I tried to pick a really hard password so I could get Google's approval. My last attempt (Elephant14.) went as well could be expected. A+! Beautiful, dark green letters told be I had done an excellent job selecting a password. And although it's not the password I went with I felt like Elephant14. and I had a moment. Now, don't get me wrong here. I appreciate all that Google is doing to protect me and my crappy passwords but what's with the colours? I find it a little redundant. I guess they're helping to clarify what they mean for those of us that are too dumb to understand big words like "bad" and "good".

Oh yeah, Happy Valentine's Day.

Wednesday night losers club

On Wednesday night I drove to Vancouver to participate in a focus group. I am 22. So a focus group is not exactly the "social hot spot" to meet up with friends. Not only that, there were about 10 other people there. Was it secretly a loser convention? Did we all really have nothing better to do? It was a Wednesday night. We weren't working. We should have been out celebrating somewhere or at least watching some good reruns on tv...any alternative to being there. The longer I was there the more I felt like a complete idiot. Everyone else there was at least middle aged. I was a youngin' so I had no excuse. While observing the other members of the Wednesday night losers club I noticed the man sitting next to me was chewing cookies loudly. But it wasn't his fault, they were crunchy cookies. Fergie was playing on the radio. I hate her songs. Another man was wearing very cool looking shoes. I wondered if when he bought them that's what he wanted people to think when they saw them. Of course, if they ever ask me to do this again...I'll go. It's not like I'd have anything better to do on a Wednesday night.

The perfect pizza

I've eaten a lot of pizza in my day. My thighs would even suggest I've eaten too much pizza but that's neither here nor there. After years of research I've discovered the perfect pizza. It starts with a thin, crisp, crust and tomato sauce. The toppings do not include any meat. I didn't do it that way on purpose, it just kind of happened. I love tomatoes, black olives, spinach, and feta cheese. It's really good...that's why it's my favourite. :D

Love...uck!

It's official. I have been bitten by the love bug. It got me into a bit of trouble at work (he's a customer) but was worth it. The downside to being bitten by the love bug...you get infected. It takes over your mind and makes you crazy. You start to mention him in conversations just to talk about him. You daze off and have a far off happy look on your face. Then, you find out the infection has taken a serious turn for the worse because you've started signing your signature but with his last name, not yours. I am indeed infected. Handsdown the best part about being bitten by the love bug is you don't want the cure.