tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39631391720682877322024-02-02T01:29:32.826-06:00Seen and SaidIllustrated Attempts to Express My Scattered ThoughtsUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger95125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3963139172068287732.post-85999400315375661362011-11-15T21:13:00.000-06:002011-11-15T21:13:15.628-06:00Job HuntI am graduating with a Bachelor of Science in Architecture on December 17th. I have officially started the job hunt.<br />
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Writing a resume is HARD. I am technically a salesperson (for wedding gowns), but it turns out, I'm not really comfortable at selling MYSELF.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNfwUTDuczOfTztxvXEMZztoUAys8HEImC9ttGBAOnpty1Q5TKySP2p518aaRhB5N175QzzQoW4-3PniH6Z5fRmhY8UF3r1oXQ96YI8JP2iqVEU0neQX_d36JoIg2bW1iiuuTX5no2wls/s1600/selling.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNfwUTDuczOfTztxvXEMZztoUAys8HEImC9ttGBAOnpty1Q5TKySP2p518aaRhB5N175QzzQoW4-3PniH6Z5fRmhY8UF3r1oXQ96YI8JP2iqVEU0neQX_d36JoIg2bW1iiuuTX5no2wls/s1600/selling.png" /></a></div><br />
It probably doesn't help that writing a resume makes me feel like an idiot..... Because my resume looked something like this when I started....<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYMzoyhirkl7h0rcIhOKYElaZfEO92xI210VNz3bD2Pf1aRACg8H8uGfs5QJBrIkm2eqhrZPg5qWpETWqosi3ZVPWfaIuCJ1FECnYWpBofILsywpaJMV0fMQnps9iCLVzyzrfuaT2NzgE/s1600/resume.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYMzoyhirkl7h0rcIhOKYElaZfEO92xI210VNz3bD2Pf1aRACg8H8uGfs5QJBrIkm2eqhrZPg5qWpETWqosi3ZVPWfaIuCJ1FECnYWpBofILsywpaJMV0fMQnps9iCLVzyzrfuaT2NzgE/s1600/resume.png" /></a></div><br />
But something tells me that this won't help me get a job......<br />
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I think I should reconsider this whole job-hunt thing. Maybe I should just blog every day, and starve.<br />
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But then I wouldn't be able to buy any chocolate.....<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSj0uEBcr8Rl1C7eCOtdVE8tkJhqwh_q57_HP28Lo9PKIHKrj8R-3WHsGx7SwYdUdta6Zh_tlaYyta-PgEevQvf4GaMkzbq7nGdpbyfz9ty3oRZGLMKJiuvqg7xdPL_NOoKaAyfmTTh8A/s1600/job+vs+chocolate.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSj0uEBcr8Rl1C7eCOtdVE8tkJhqwh_q57_HP28Lo9PKIHKrj8R-3WHsGx7SwYdUdta6Zh_tlaYyta-PgEevQvf4GaMkzbq7nGdpbyfz9ty3oRZGLMKJiuvqg7xdPL_NOoKaAyfmTTh8A/s1600/job+vs+chocolate.png" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3963139172068287732.post-31240876594210112862011-11-09T18:22:00.000-06:002011-11-09T18:22:02.599-06:00OMG! I'm ALIVE!Dear Readers,<br />
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I am a loser. This is why I have been ignoring you for so many months! Here are the many things that have allowed me to distract myself from how terribly neglectful I have been to you.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLi4rz-xNJYM4tqwlBd2zNZrES4AfWwb6tQuXHbsH5SkKamgpeAEAvzY4J0d9uaSOfC5b1Lr3xP2ixR0ecNaIxwvIlzWXBDeI0LDHnp8HWgrIyj4pfcII2WPhpX50_42_0METV62eWQfk/s1600/distractions.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLi4rz-xNJYM4tqwlBd2zNZrES4AfWwb6tQuXHbsH5SkKamgpeAEAvzY4J0d9uaSOfC5b1Lr3xP2ixR0ecNaIxwvIlzWXBDeI0LDHnp8HWgrIyj4pfcII2WPhpX50_42_0METV62eWQfk/s1600/distractions.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clearly, all of my time has been spoken for.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
It's not that I don't love you..... I just don't love you more than chocolate.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTH9ZdRJTbA5U6Hi8AUJsZljzSBu2dpzS-rvUX4rZR-Tp7VXzW3OZSdUocvIaZweEuRWqprMk-LT_dYoUjKkoeXi9I8cqqfAq-uNSMB-sAOJKtbcSU-MrZ_ZYGxxFtWNMUSWKKLFaYRaM/s1600/chocolate+mountain.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTH9ZdRJTbA5U6Hi8AUJsZljzSBu2dpzS-rvUX4rZR-Tp7VXzW3OZSdUocvIaZweEuRWqprMk-LT_dYoUjKkoeXi9I8cqqfAq-uNSMB-sAOJKtbcSU-MrZ_ZYGxxFtWNMUSWKKLFaYRaM/s1600/chocolate+mountain.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seriously, you guys never stood a chance.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
And also money. Money is good too.<br />
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I've been earning money at a bridal salon, where I work as a bridal consultant....and I have LOTS of hilarious stories about it....that I can't really tell you. Because I do more than just sell wedding gowns at work. I design lots of things. I also write out new paperwork. And I maintain their facebook.....and design business cards and brochures.....and paint murals on the wall.....and oh yeah!<br />
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I have a confession to make, dear readers.<br />
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Please don't be mad.<br />
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I'm cheating on you.<br />
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That's right. I have.....another blog. One that is updated regularly. It's not funny. It doesn't cover anything and everything that happens to come to my mind.<br />
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And no. It doesn't have drawings.<br />
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I created, maintain, and write the <a href="http://bellasbridal.blogspot.com/">blog for the company where I work.</a> For those of you getting married soon, you can check it out if you want.<br />
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......but the rest of you will find it boring as hell. Sorry.<br />
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I hope your world doesn't explode with that revelation.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlrvSpwfgqwZB_d6QbUqrudBpiQOsZwbq239l21kgO7eoqyNsBVVXwcbZ4TsjcktFSNBs8u-hAT3AkEOLGiBYLVxnm0tmvuYiG_Q3Ye2JdjAZmRXhJjyJPQ9P1d7j_K39v39znDYmxI-Y/s1600/Step+14.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlrvSpwfgqwZB_d6QbUqrudBpiQOsZwbq239l21kgO7eoqyNsBVVXwcbZ4TsjcktFSNBs8u-hAT3AkEOLGiBYLVxnm0tmvuYiG_Q3Ye2JdjAZmRXhJjyJPQ9P1d7j_K39v39znDYmxI-Y/s1600/Step+14.png" /></a></div><br />
Also, I think the sock monster has been messing with my things again.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiumrQ5oQUNZyhmDDTKAMQ7F2xriY49xhyqIi6OFQkFFU1xr9mlYDZZ9S2pr6QNTYBYIdvn-MUJ_Uwn1LJgs5ieWn16HwDPKtJZRtrDAwJMpoiquUHYUXOQm6lZgLznmnPcRpcXjXbFjQY/s1600/sock+monster+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiumrQ5oQUNZyhmDDTKAMQ7F2xriY49xhyqIi6OFQkFFU1xr9mlYDZZ9S2pr6QNTYBYIdvn-MUJ_Uwn1LJgs5ieWn16HwDPKtJZRtrDAwJMpoiquUHYUXOQm6lZgLznmnPcRpcXjXbFjQY/s1600/sock+monster+2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEido-A0F90neUeIfi21imb9iklQ1jpL7ZIMI4RF9w9epr09lCkjQaXANjMf_A4IdEheifSyJsI1YQq2obvQ8jDjLHPGy-DGsaTqrEOEIpkDnwATVlQUo3IMUMI-lpEqO5kf-Dc2MJelgq4/s1600/laundry+monster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div>Although, it might just be my roommate.<br />
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Sorry for the disjointed, rambling post.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3963139172068287732.post-4863733696667538912011-01-20T19:22:00.000-06:002011-01-20T19:22:07.345-06:00GUEST POST: Tall Does Not Equal BasketballToday, I'm proud to bring you a guest post written especially for me by The Tall One, who is the author of <a href="http://loveandheartness.blogspot.com/">love and heartness</a>. I hope you all enjoy it!<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">If I had a nickel for every time someone asks, “Do you play basketball?” I would have been able to retire two years ago. It doesn’t help that I work with the public, so I get the question more often now.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4LV-FgAXPYKyotlWYl-_X9eESmSwJFEjJh5b6iu0AO0RgdZveZ8pVE_nlya00RZOA2MKmRR7APOlnASQ7HOfvrYf9HJXEkbOtLofjn-1Y-dpvXQwpHiD4za2UP-JdvzurbU5fofwIWH0/s1600/1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4LV-FgAXPYKyotlWYl-_X9eESmSwJFEjJh5b6iu0AO0RgdZveZ8pVE_nlya00RZOA2MKmRR7APOlnASQ7HOfvrYf9HJXEkbOtLofjn-1Y-dpvXQwpHiD4za2UP-JdvzurbU5fofwIWH0/s640/1.png" width="640" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">I have a confession to make, and I can’t think of a better place to do it than on someone else’s blog. When I was 14, I tried out for the freshman girls basketball team. And I feel that Catherine and her wonderful readers will really appreciate the story behind it. Because I laugh every time I tell it.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It all started a few weeks before I started high school. I was feeling pretty confident in my basketball skills because I could get the ball into the hoop in my neighbors driveway. Obviously I was destined for greatness just from that.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm4QKEssjS9Q7_rijwgASMdyyHYc05p1jonG71N93qHKNuSN51HkRTs48IByJ7_jGHdaRcejRRvh2OEoq6afJyNZGr3RF1Nb1FTabo9uZx1gg4i2n5OrTXTCKcIps2d-p1h-AT4JBQjvY/s1600/2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm4QKEssjS9Q7_rijwgASMdyyHYc05p1jonG71N93qHKNuSN51HkRTs48IByJ7_jGHdaRcejRRvh2OEoq6afJyNZGr3RF1Nb1FTabo9uZx1gg4i2n5OrTXTCKcIps2d-p1h-AT4JBQjvY/s640/2.png" width="640" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">The first day of try outs I went to the wrong gym. That should have been my first sign right there.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVG-ysQspoLuBgv-SeMgE84X1-e8SvQQxhnZXMOIGScf9lCkQmSmhsiF66iIMimMfnmonFyE7thtbflxz__xrRw2voDZbHT_jWSVGC8zRuJeiGb1pwB1L6u4gjfhPuo1Nqtc3JAVgqR4A/s1600/3.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVG-ysQspoLuBgv-SeMgE84X1-e8SvQQxhnZXMOIGScf9lCkQmSmhsiF66iIMimMfnmonFyE7thtbflxz__xrRw2voDZbHT_jWSVGC8zRuJeiGb1pwB1L6u4gjfhPuo1Nqtc3JAVgqR4A/s640/3.png" width="640" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">When I was finally in the right place, there were a few other girls I knew from elementary and middle school (I live in a small town) and was feeling really good. The coach was nice, the girls were cool, and HEY! I could actually keep up with them! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And then came the basketball part. I could hardly keep the ball in my hands and I had a zero percent chance of making any shots. Basically, I was awesome.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGgGiWTIsLfqIBslkFM7WtodPVQbo9fgP0bH-OWMNKCtC1gt64D1FFweAVj3Le7ipNxBZD3IY9H1LyHV6WliyW-w-S-ITWlfZlemJ1Ec6F0URiLkr9P381e4SINmAyLuNbU0Y2dHFnut0/s1600/4.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGgGiWTIsLfqIBslkFM7WtodPVQbo9fgP0bH-OWMNKCtC1gt64D1FFweAVj3Le7ipNxBZD3IY9H1LyHV6WliyW-w-S-ITWlfZlemJ1Ec6F0URiLkr9P381e4SINmAyLuNbU0Y2dHFnut0/s640/4.png" width="640" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The second day of try-outs, the coach told the group that some of might just be considered “practice players” and not really play in the games. I knew that would be me, and I was really ok with it. I got to be a part of the team without totally embarrassing myself!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The third day of try-outs screwed me up. I caught a rebound and jammed my finger pretty hard. I had to get a little splint and everything. My under-developed mind was still really confident that I was going to make the team and be a school legend. My height would completely make up for my lack of actual skill.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV4X_pZ-T4YHC9OYqHQ9K5CLfkjzYJJHt37cC7CKXMhIUCSgUEOA-qH5HH2hthTvkfmilxnIpGu2G0OKNwL_WjEj92vaVG7-Fc5mdd5RjtS8SuG9GUh4LOVPeo1Y822SUCndWnQj0AH0k/s1600/tall+not+bball.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV4X_pZ-T4YHC9OYqHQ9K5CLfkjzYJJHt37cC7CKXMhIUCSgUEOA-qH5HH2hthTvkfmilxnIpGu2G0OKNwL_WjEj92vaVG7-Fc5mdd5RjtS8SuG9GUh4LOVPeo1Y822SUCndWnQj0AH0k/s640/tall+not+bball.png" width="640" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">After the third day, coach pulled me over and I thought she was going to tell me that I should go straight to varsity and practice play with them. Instead, her words sounded very wrong. Something about “lack of skill” and “really good try”. There may have even been a “maybe next year, after some practice”. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And just like that, I was cut from the basketball team. Three days into a five day try-out. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">From time to time, the boy’s basketball coaches would stop me in the halls and ask why I wasn’t playing. And I was too embarrassed to admit I was awful, so I just told them I had to focus on school. Eventually I needed a new excuse, so I joined the cheerleading team.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCnEJ83_CLKvEwKsRbjWVJ77eOkb1p3d6392lPDRlQDYxFAaGR2zWi4ZL7BRXFVVmYS3KY76w3IFKeZhz5WliKiNl3IrueL_CnzxUfblwRh_WBzA3kEO74kogRM2DD7vbgkwMm_UmccV0/s1600/5.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCnEJ83_CLKvEwKsRbjWVJ77eOkb1p3d6392lPDRlQDYxFAaGR2zWi4ZL7BRXFVVmYS3KY76w3IFKeZhz5WliKiNl3IrueL_CnzxUfblwRh_WBzA3kEO74kogRM2DD7vbgkwMm_UmccV0/s640/5.png" width="640" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Just kidding, it wasn’t for an excuse. I really did become a cheerleader. At one point, I was even co-captain for a year. Go me!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But the point of this story is that just because I’m tall does not mean I was destined to play basketball. I try to stay away from it more than anything, because I am more likely to get hurt than make any points.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">My sister, on the other hand was a small town hero for her basketball skills. She’s probably still a hero for all her awesomeness on the court. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3c-p6Pi6vnLmRd9QuB8r7yRXWWVmNSOVm2QLOE5bhYGbwo1bYF03jBnCdKDjepv5J1-tRcayr9opqRyfhfoocTJa1XopUGK11_I8jmX1GkD8Cxk6DYNmOmc6EB8wVMPZKBwBP_e1uxOI/s1600/6.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3c-p6Pi6vnLmRd9QuB8r7yRXWWVmNSOVm2QLOE5bhYGbwo1bYF03jBnCdKDjepv5J1-tRcayr9opqRyfhfoocTJa1XopUGK11_I8jmX1GkD8Cxk6DYNmOmc6EB8wVMPZKBwBP_e1uxOI/s640/6.png" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">So instead of being engrossed in a sport, I was able to join the threatre department and really blossom. I should really thank her for taking the sports gene in the family; I’m sure it’s saved my poor parents from lots of hospital bills. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Sidenote: I just wanted to thank Catherine for being AWESOME and letting me do a guest post. She’s pretty ok in my book.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgoQ9M2rxhMc4NpCYwepuiT7iH1nlreJW0mkFKlfWbeSFhbBBweC7ujJYzTnfe2XcOiZtoFoVFetMUN5tGKzF7yP55E73LdBY_RI_2yusIj9gFjK-ul7P21nDM1OxNfctzuzWXfwtG1A4/s1600/7.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgoQ9M2rxhMc4NpCYwepuiT7iH1nlreJW0mkFKlfWbeSFhbBBweC7ujJYzTnfe2XcOiZtoFoVFetMUN5tGKzF7yP55E73LdBY_RI_2yusIj9gFjK-ul7P21nDM1OxNfctzuzWXfwtG1A4/s640/7.png" width="640" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3963139172068287732.post-17738392856115396472011-01-18T19:15:00.001-06:002011-01-18T19:16:25.138-06:00Sorry for My SilenceI don't have a whole lot to say today, and I'm not really in the right frame of mind to be funny for you guys.<br />
<br />
Today, I took my dog, Sophie to the vet. I took her to the vet, and I left her there to be put to sleep. It was a very hard decision, and it was a very emotional experience for me.<br />
<br />
Sophie was almost 11 years old, and I will never forget the joy and comfort she brought me during those 11 years. She was the best dog I could ever ask for.<br />
<br />
I have arranged to have two or three guest posts for the next few weeks, and will happily accept any other offers to write guest posts for my blog. Until I feel like I can handle being silly, stupid, and funny, I will leave you guys to the guest posts I have arranged. Hopefully I will be back on my game, and writing blog posts in two or three weeks. Maybe even sooner.<br />
<br />
<br />
If you'd like to know more about Sophie the Dog, or see some pictures of her, here are the blog posts where I mention her. Some are focused on her entirely, and some just have her mentioned in passing. Many of the have photos of her, and two of them have videos.<br />
<br />
<ul><li><a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/08/my-dog-is-too-smart-for-iq-test.html">My Dog is Too Smart for the IQ Test</a> (Warning: This one is before I started drawing pictures!)</li>
<li><a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/08/im-living-with-dinosaur.html">I'm Living With A Dinosaur</a></li>
<li><a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/09/please-forgive-my-photography.html">Please Forgive My Photography</a></li>
<li> <a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/09/attention-world.html">Attention World</a></li>
<li><a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/09/sorry-for-another-lame-post-but.html">Sorry For Another Lame Post, But..</a>.</li>
<li><a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/09/story-of-my-life.html">The Story of My Life</a></li>
<li><a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/10/okay-my-dog-might-be-retarded.html">Okay, My Dog MIGHT Be Retarded</a></li>
<li><a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/10/things-that-distract-me-from-blogging.html">Things That Distract Me from Blogging </a></li>
<li><a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/10/my-dog-is-cute.html">My Dog is Cute </a>(Video!)</li>
<li><a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/10/my-dog-is-also-cute-when-shes-playing.html">My Dog is Also Cute When She's Playing </a>(Another Video!)</li>
<li><a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/11/page-from-sisters-book.html">A Page from Sister's Book </a></li>
</ul><br />
While you guys wait patiently for the guest posts I've lined up and new posts from me, I recommend checking out my favorite posts on this blog. These posts are my personal favorites (in chronological order), and always make me laugh when I go back and read them. Enjoy!<br />
<br />
<ul><li><a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/08/tubesocks-beware.html">Tubesocks, Beware!</a></li>
<li><a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/08/yoga-is-for-crazy-people.html">Yoga is For Crazy People</a></li>
<li><a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/09/sometimes-its-not-my-fault.html">Sometimes, It's Not My Fault</a></li>
<li><a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/10/50-charts-graphs-and-diagrams-for-my.html">50 Charts, Graphs, and Diagrams for my 50th Blog Post</a></li>
<li><a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/10/dogs-are-better-than-pie.html">Dogs Are Better Than Pie</a></li>
<li><a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/10/if-i-had-pet-dinosaur.html">If I Had A Pet Dinosaur</a></li>
<li><a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/10/war-to-end-all-wars.html">A War to End All Wars</a></li>
<li><a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/10/toes-are-totally-awesome.html">Toes Are Totally Awesome</a></li>
</ul><br />
If you are looking for something else to read, I recommend these posts from <a href="http://newadventuresofchristine.blogspot.com/">Sister's</a> blog. <br />
<br />
<ul><li><a href="http://newadventuresofchristine.blogspot.com/2011/01/sister.html">Sister</a></li>
<li><a href="http://newadventuresofchristine.blogspot.com/2010/10/5-things-that-husband-and-i-disagree.html">5 Things That Husband and I Disagree About</a></li>
<li><a href="http://newadventuresofchristine.blogspot.com/2010/10/love-letter-to-my-feet.html">A Love Letter To My Feet</a></li>
<li><a href="http://newadventuresofchristine.blogspot.com/2010/08/not-so-glamorous-side-of-long-distance.html">The Not So Glamorous Side of Long Distance Running</a></li>
<li><a href="http://newadventuresofchristine.blogspot.com/2010/09/short-people-are-way-more-awesome-than.html">Short People Are Way More Awesome Than You Think They Are</a></li>
</ul><br />
Thanks to all of you, in advance, for your time, love, and support. I hope to be back and better than ever soon!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3963139172068287732.post-41455644552291064912011-01-11T22:59:00.000-06:002011-01-11T22:59:40.005-06:00AshleyGrowing up, most girls have a BFF. I was no exception. I had LOTS of BFF's, and my list changed, and grew, as I grew up.<br />
<br />
And then I hit college. I found that my list of best friends shrank drastically. This is when the real friends separate from the friends of convenience. Today, I want to talk to you about one of my REAL friends. I met her when I was in 4th grade. She was Brother 1's friend's little sister....<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF3vnDlLJYwKCOpY3P4JV99rgODFFd5-V14a13eCufx9YHltisIW4XmTZVjSVW_QmHwsb-_tqLpz7o5RHas-M7UT3XTQu6XV2Al2Fg92p0P6IZjbSTYCkA5P1VHUbSgm4lIocGBZRX8tU/s1600/01.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF3vnDlLJYwKCOpY3P4JV99rgODFFd5-V14a13eCufx9YHltisIW4XmTZVjSVW_QmHwsb-_tqLpz7o5RHas-M7UT3XTQu6XV2Al2Fg92p0P6IZjbSTYCkA5P1VHUbSgm4lIocGBZRX8tU/s1600/01.png" /></a></div>Ashley says that she remembers when we met. Apparently we met when she was hanging out with a friend, and that friend was Sister's friend's sister....I guess I was along to hang out with Sister's friend's sister, who was hanging out with Ashley.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRthYRAkNaXVgQ3upQE90nwn_6ftxMM-jkJX4xPocHjIyV-Ng51lv87k11NOG669K43kTB61Zq82_ZJz0vDuF3_bMzVb_EKTPMKxUJmoy8Ykv-szoMefgw1FLMWj5SU0dihXGyg89iI3k/s1600/02.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRthYRAkNaXVgQ3upQE90nwn_6ftxMM-jkJX4xPocHjIyV-Ng51lv87k11NOG669K43kTB61Zq82_ZJz0vDuF3_bMzVb_EKTPMKxUJmoy8Ykv-szoMefgw1FLMWj5SU0dihXGyg89iI3k/s1600/02.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here is a Diagram to Explain that Slightly Confusing Relationship</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
I do not remember how we met. I do not remember the first time I went to go play at her house. But we had an instant connection, I tell you. We still do. Years later, she is still one of my closest friends (in spite of the 560 miles that lay between us geographically).<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ngVfg8DqSrwAf1IqYiD7BKzg0AusonJ8nUaNOsuWaal2NRvP6S7siC_BFocQ9nILXfPTP8oHWB_VoAdBqAB2fHkGWYzER40KjyoHih0ofOHhKl43Rsbt1NQBTasXaY9sHhKsRE7jY_E/s1600/03.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ngVfg8DqSrwAf1IqYiD7BKzg0AusonJ8nUaNOsuWaal2NRvP6S7siC_BFocQ9nILXfPTP8oHWB_VoAdBqAB2fHkGWYzER40KjyoHih0ofOHhKl43Rsbt1NQBTasXaY9sHhKsRE7jY_E/s1600/03.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Every friendship has a few rough spots, but that sure as heck didn't stop us!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Ashley's home (and her family) are a second home to me. I spent more hours there during my free time than I did in my own home. Heck, if I could have had my way, I would have LIVED over there. Because Ashley's house was awesome (even after they moved....twice. All her houses were/are awesome.)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwL8FxiwLNVP_wQcw8PZcfw8bl-oJDzUkG7Zqqlrcu8cm5vraYuwocbwYnoSF7KELbjVIZOJbyD-ONdB7ERsgVq_lrMq7jbgbWFbc22Hqq51yQtKDR2P91GAc47ueH7edZKWhYOY7_WyE/s1600/04.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwL8FxiwLNVP_wQcw8PZcfw8bl-oJDzUkG7Zqqlrcu8cm5vraYuwocbwYnoSF7KELbjVIZOJbyD-ONdB7ERsgVq_lrMq7jbgbWFbc22Hqq51yQtKDR2P91GAc47ueH7edZKWhYOY7_WyE/s1600/04.png" /></a></div><b><br />
</b><br />
<b>Reasons Ashley's House Rocked</b><br />
<ul><li>Ashley had cable. I did not. I would rush over there right after school, so we could catch our favorite TV show, which only played on cartoon network in the afternoon. SAILOR MOON. Seriously folks, we were obsessed. After watching the show would spend hours playing Sailor Moon in her ginormous backyard.</li>
</ul><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnTyP6t4kE14fuZ5mrKrHrzryiQEXNYfLrw_hleMWKoQIKFExpD66zTqjXtom5Y2-s9k-GQw8DveH03r3wsKifAOLutVzKNYTZ4h6UslO8ipVIv5i_Z4ne9ttypA3fO223UOfo2nC7xgM/s1600/05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnTyP6t4kE14fuZ5mrKrHrzryiQEXNYfLrw_hleMWKoQIKFExpD66zTqjXtom5Y2-s9k-GQw8DveH03r3wsKifAOLutVzKNYTZ4h6UslO8ipVIv5i_Z4ne9ttypA3fO223UOfo2nC7xgM/s640/05.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We loved it because the heroes were girls in mini skirts, instead of boys in spandex! </td></tr>
</tbody></table><ul><li>Ashley only has 1 sibling....I have three. Clearly Ashley's place was the preferable location for our carefree reenactments of our favorite animated shows. </li>
</ul><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy5hieigxBPMYiFUlzTkw-y5SVwRxbHsWmnEF1JXsdkrHhd_Qje2_Hk7f5KsOxeqnMPUOEtZopdo4i2Wf_A-y9FMjbmSLptm8tFxpqHTRy3oTAH46cLfGWWAuAZ3kx5X6hChv8t6GCDoE/s1600/06.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy5hieigxBPMYiFUlzTkw-y5SVwRxbHsWmnEF1JXsdkrHhd_Qje2_Hk7f5KsOxeqnMPUOEtZopdo4i2Wf_A-y9FMjbmSLptm8tFxpqHTRy3oTAH46cLfGWWAuAZ3kx5X6hChv8t6GCDoE/s1600/06.png" /></a></div><ul><li>Ashley's house had Eggo waffles! I always had cereal for breakfast. Ashley introduced me to the world that is Eggo Waffles for Breakfast. A new obsession for me was born. I still have two waffles for breakfast almost every morning....one with Skippy Creamy Peanut Butter on it, the other with I Can't Believe it's Not Butter (Spray), a product I was introduced to at her house.</li>
<li>Ashley had a swingset. I had a pool. This may seem like I had the better backyard in this case, but you would be wrong. Ashley's backyard was HUGE, and completely unoccupied by anybody but us. My backyard was normal-sized, and it was filled with a pool that was constantly occupied in the summer, and freezing in the winter. My only grassy refuge of playtime was the cul-de-sac in the front yard. That was far too public for our tastes. In this case, rare as it is, swingset > pool.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghrK9NN1s2SutefnTfd8KZo9ZYK4EhSkcWPvbDdv_Etr9jBIp75242wPNtkDoE_PVvcJMGBNqT3Az7LAuan7g59Vvwe1XXcYKtUkg5Ap3R8X30Wc_4xvnMawk06fvKoIYDKJ3Xhbx0JKA/s1600/07.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghrK9NN1s2SutefnTfd8KZo9ZYK4EhSkcWPvbDdv_Etr9jBIp75242wPNtkDoE_PVvcJMGBNqT3Az7LAuan7g59Vvwe1XXcYKtUkg5Ap3R8X30Wc_4xvnMawk06fvKoIYDKJ3Xhbx0JKA/s1600/07.png" /></a></li>
</ul><ul><li>Ashley had all the best Barbie clothes. Rather than moving all the clothes and barbies to me, I moved my two or three barbies to her. Much simpler!</li>
</ul>Honestly, though, the biggest reason that Ashley's house was awesome, was because it had Ashley in it. Also, her Mom is totally badass! =) Really....the proximity of Ashley to a location is directly proportional to its awesomeness....just like it is with unicorns!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmChJoDutzIGu1BjPVZKchyYDZtPKwc8-2NAQKUjN0FKvzjtuZQkC10gsKwUdjGZQswj87VcbXnis6S75e6KKL4TJOpncnlkb6ul2spGMBDtdIYfCgD3Nelxax8cspykkXgJ1QSZ6YMLI/s1600/unicorn.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmChJoDutzIGu1BjPVZKchyYDZtPKwc8-2NAQKUjN0FKvzjtuZQkC10gsKwUdjGZQswj87VcbXnis6S75e6KKL4TJOpncnlkb6ul2spGMBDtdIYfCgD3Nelxax8cspykkXgJ1QSZ6YMLI/s1600/unicorn.png" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
Just like the between most young girls, our friendship was not without its problems. Firstly, we always secretly felt the desire to compete with each other. When we played make-believe, her characters were always the main characters. The damsel in the distress was always the most fun to play. My characters were never the lead, never the damsel, and rarely the TRUE hero....but I tried to compensate by over developing their few traits, exaggerating their flaws and desires to the point of stupidity....of course, to my 10-year-old mind, they weren't overdone, they were just awesome.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs_vjht7llWe_wKYUnmjzdqoZC684ql-4mA0Ni8E9O3fH5rGA4VDQE9kKLX1BQ4Q8KakGTfavzGiUhKPcjgmpdKK5JQaPtaj9PX4u_CaX49V1y8zOPhlhyphenhyphenETIdXCtrB-WxsapuG6ejkOI/s1600/08.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs_vjht7llWe_wKYUnmjzdqoZC684ql-4mA0Ni8E9O3fH5rGA4VDQE9kKLX1BQ4Q8KakGTfavzGiUhKPcjgmpdKK5JQaPtaj9PX4u_CaX49V1y8zOPhlhyphenhyphenETIdXCtrB-WxsapuG6ejkOI/s1600/08.png" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Honestly, Ashley and I love each other to death, but back then, we also probably secretly wished to be each other. Here are two lists to prove it!<br />
<br />
<b>Reasons I Wanted to be Ashley</b><br />
<ul><li>Her hair is awesome. Always has been, always will be. It was long, and sleek, and smooth, and soft, and straight, and blonde. MY hair was a nasty muddy brown that frizzed and curled and refused to cooperate no matter how long I spent trying to coax it to behave in an even slightly manageable fashion.</li>
</ul><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDuwEEOfzfgj5n15N1z1tb9G32IADml2J76bWuVEjlfG27fpKzjgGsPG4xo5PTsuFBQUh1Ep_fRbXOBWI5jMKPDteqGjESyOmwY4dto0TnUL6046xsb6g02ICTaZ_ww6DZlQQ59wkMIwU/s1600/09.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDuwEEOfzfgj5n15N1z1tb9G32IADml2J76bWuVEjlfG27fpKzjgGsPG4xo5PTsuFBQUh1Ep_fRbXOBWI5jMKPDteqGjESyOmwY4dto0TnUL6046xsb6g02ICTaZ_ww6DZlQQ59wkMIwU/s1600/09.png" /></a></div><br />
<ul><li>Ashley had her own room. I <a href="http://newadventuresofchristine.blogspot.com/2011/01/sister.html">shared mine with Sister</a>. Enough said.</li>
<li>Ashley had WAY cooler clothes. I was stuck with hand-me-downs, not from Sister (as you might expect), but from Brother 1. This is because I was not shaped like Sister. I was shaped like my taller, older, skinny brother. So I wore BROTHER'S old jeans, and Brother's old t-shirts, completely missing out on Sister's feminine clothes. ASHLEY, as the only daughter, had all new clothes, just for her. No hand-me-downs there!</li>
</ul><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLjm9nsciZKYvRZSv1bH_u_Q3F8mMasmRR4oS7mXBQFx-3W84-8hWnI_A8S_ph2B31MFIr_9KHDvZgWjUADwOhM87ry70iINMEwSmsyUxSvrPz0KHasTcQ0iml0w8fOsX3pPzT3_pld4E/s1600/11.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLjm9nsciZKYvRZSv1bH_u_Q3F8mMasmRR4oS7mXBQFx-3W84-8hWnI_A8S_ph2B31MFIr_9KHDvZgWjUADwOhM87ry70iINMEwSmsyUxSvrPz0KHasTcQ0iml0w8fOsX3pPzT3_pld4E/s1600/11.png" /></a></div><ul><li>Ashley was always a passionate kid when she was growing up. When she did something, she really threw everything she had into it. I was always far too scatter brained, and far too easily distracted as a child to really commit to any one task at a time. Truth be told, I am still very scatter-brained. Sometimes I even lose my sunglasses, only to discover that they had been sitting on my head for hours!</li>
</ul><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZVzlkAI18yypSVFsii-0GpNJGlu6VuYPQbWKdYI3MrXWxEVwkjmVCmHEREUbS2goQH3ok6NorapiLZFb6TQG9IBw8412NAJLMHAE_WZf3TvU0Kp9WNoMx1EoxdTa20h73sE47MOzccfE/s1600/freakout.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZVzlkAI18yypSVFsii-0GpNJGlu6VuYPQbWKdYI3MrXWxEVwkjmVCmHEREUbS2goQH3ok6NorapiLZFb6TQG9IBw8412NAJLMHAE_WZf3TvU0Kp9WNoMx1EoxdTa20h73sE47MOzccfE/s1600/freakout.bmp" /></a></div><br />
<ul></ul><b><br />
</b><br />
<b>Reasons Ashley Wanted to be Me</b><br />
<ul><li>I had a private pool in my backyard. While I would have preferred the big yard of grass, and we spent most of our time there, I think she secretly wanted to be me because I had access to a pool that we both felt comfortable playing in, just like we played in her backyard. We would pretend we were mermaids, and tie things around our hips, pretending that our legs were fins. At the public pool, we had to share our space with other kids, and trying to "be cool" while pretending to be mermaids was an exceedingly difficult task. At my pool, it was Ashley, me, and more water than we knew what to do with.</li>
</ul><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIbKSxEETbYPzDohYAT39BhuJFEj98Wshjijhl0aZN5lY2pjGGgYZ1H4_b5PjrqM4KCFUPvTMaiYp_wzU4Jwy_sF3Hy6XvD98WO7MSN3VqLd1I0fTb0TZrT6QJdHX6q8O08fKYRYIWf6U/s1600/10.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIbKSxEETbYPzDohYAT39BhuJFEj98Wshjijhl0aZN5lY2pjGGgYZ1H4_b5PjrqM4KCFUPvTMaiYp_wzU4Jwy_sF3Hy6XvD98WO7MSN3VqLd1I0fTb0TZrT6QJdHX6q8O08fKYRYIWf6U/s1600/10.png" /></a></div><br />
<ul><li>My kitchen was far better equipped with junk food. While I did not have the waffles I loved so much at home, I did have bowls of candy, bags of chips, unlimited access to soda, and parents that had long since given up trying to exert even the slightest control on what I ate.</li>
<li>Ashley has beautiful dark brown eyes. It's really cool because her eyes are SO dark for a girl with blonde hair. This was not good enough for Ashley. Ashley wanted MY eyes. Because mine are green. While I admit that I wouldn't want to change eye color, I can't imagine why she ever had issues with the color of her own. It's exotic looking. Also, Brown matches with more things than Green does.....Just saying. Brown is a NEUTRAL. Green is NOT.</li>
<li>Secretly, I always thought Ashley wanted to be me, because I am just that awesome. But I think we all know this is silly. Because see, there are only four reasons she wants to be me, and there are.....um.....four reasons I want to be her.....so....yeah. We are at least equally awesome! </li>
</ul>We were both jealous of each other, but we loved each other to death nonetheless.<br />
<br />
Ashley was born the same year I was, but she is 7 months older than me. This means that she is also one grade above me in school. When I was in 4th grade, she was in 5th grade. We never got to have classes together....but we did get recess together sometimes!......Er.....At least I think we did.<br />
<br />
Everything was awesome, and really cool until....Ashley started going to a different school. Not just because she got into middle school a year before me. No. Ashley went to a different middle school, AND a different high school, AND a different college. This totally sucked! Preteen/Teenage girls want to have classes with their best friend! And we didn't. It was not cool, people. NOT cool.<br />
<br />
Lunch time could have been like this:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7hYPoaVMx7YgQ5r8DiNWT36BIcVQyVeRdfmY5_uZ8tY53GuC1IeTberkohAh8KhG91bfPPJ2YgjbJ5qFjpPDXAubotCA6xyYrg_s5R62BaKuPz2WfSwAK3asMSvETyAoKMfmoy21NjyI/s1600/12.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7hYPoaVMx7YgQ5r8DiNWT36BIcVQyVeRdfmY5_uZ8tY53GuC1IeTberkohAh8KhG91bfPPJ2YgjbJ5qFjpPDXAubotCA6xyYrg_s5R62BaKuPz2WfSwAK3asMSvETyAoKMfmoy21NjyI/s1600/12.png" /></a></div><br />
But alas, it was never to be. =( Instead, we sat at our lunch tables, in different schools, without the company of each other, wondering what the other was doing. I think there might have even been crying. Because, I mean, who WOULDN'T cry when they missed lunch with me?<br />
<br />
Now we are both grown-up. We are both adults, and we're still the best of friends. We work together on projects sometimes (art, writing, music, etc), we talk whenever we can on aol instant messenger and/or facebook chat. We encourage and advise each other when we hit rough spots in our lives.<br />
<br />
I have done my best to be honest, and even serious, about my friendship with Ashley, while still injecting a bit of humor into the story. However, there is nothing funny about what I'm about to say.<br />
<br />
Ashley has been a blessing in my life. We have helped each other learn and grow, developing as human beings. I would not be who I am today, if not for her. I will close today's post with a special thought just for her.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4taiwWnBHwiy6AKHdh5djQNTFUTTRHpQKOH4dHwzjQGHBFBI0WLAeYhjlq6OifAH7UFsp2jka1HTbX8aAOd1E72FB6PuD_hHs8lFjnzj3ISTi5WV2GNV82YpMBkKgc7ydcDhdDP_ilk8/s1600/13.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4taiwWnBHwiy6AKHdh5djQNTFUTTRHpQKOH4dHwzjQGHBFBI0WLAeYhjlq6OifAH7UFsp2jka1HTbX8aAOd1E72FB6PuD_hHs8lFjnzj3ISTi5WV2GNV82YpMBkKgc7ydcDhdDP_ilk8/s1600/13.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Also, thanks for putting up with my craziness for so many years!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Also, all my dear readers, you can check out Ashley's new blog here! Her blog is called Glimpses of Coruscation, and it is hilarious! =)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://glimpsesofcoruscation.blogspot.com/"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgASj4XxEsCz_YWgM6tfAPYrRoy_zlphVUFBv8OCKbKBFLYBX04xF1WiS6VuxBhnNHX4v2HrEgfVu9OeL_HiK7LF9jYycx5s_pZaXW595InyvuU6av9EtE3Ug0lULkzUM8O-nk-lWMPHPg/s1600/badge+for+ashley+2.png" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3963139172068287732.post-86318925904739090102011-01-11T16:02:00.000-06:002011-01-11T16:02:04.742-06:00More Presents!!!Another one of my blogger friends sent me a present! You guys are all truly awesome!!!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/11953561351573173239">Chrissy</a> from <a href="http://chrissynilsen.blogspot.com/">Creative Blog Title</a> drew me a picture of me with a unicorn! Thanks for the belated birthday present!!!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEharWIhScRgrpsfuU9Ma6GvjaG85ProSyF29jksOEs6h7RDv-Ca9KUsRnhlQACnCkUHkhGfIFHgYf0de07mnl64LdmO5rgM6TU02XZYaY3kjJNinR77wiKoRwwZaO30viA7mXeCvXBOWTs/s1600/HappyBirthdayCatherine.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEharWIhScRgrpsfuU9Ma6GvjaG85ProSyF29jksOEs6h7RDv-Ca9KUsRnhlQACnCkUHkhGfIFHgYf0de07mnl64LdmO5rgM6TU02XZYaY3kjJNinR77wiKoRwwZaO30viA7mXeCvXBOWTs/s1600/HappyBirthdayCatherine.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love that the Unicorn's hair is my favorite color!!!! =)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Also, I will be putting up a long post I've been working on in the near future (possibly even tonight!).<br />
<br />
Oh, I am working on getting a few guest posts lined up! Thanks to everyone that has emailed or commented offering to do a guest post for me! Can't wait to see how they turn out! =)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3963139172068287732.post-79501904367442856242011-01-09T22:22:00.001-06:002011-01-09T22:26:22.244-06:00The Wide World of Wedding GownsI have a job. I didn't have a job last semester....or last summer. Actually, it's been a long time since I've had a job. But I have one now. This is because now I have bills to pay. This was not always the case. Anyways, the reasons that I am supporting myself now are a story for another day.<br />
<br />
Today, I would like to talk about my job as a Consultant in a Bridal Shop.<br />
<br />
I sell wedding gowns. This may sound like a less-than-difficult task. I knew from hours watching TLC's Say Yes to the Dress that it is a difficult job, in spite of what I might think from first glance. It is far more difficult than I expected, even prepared as I was. These difficulties are also a story for another day.<br />
<br />
Instead, today I will talk about some of the parts of this job that I didn't expect. Because this job was not what I was expecting!<br />
<br />
Things About my Job that are Surprising<br />
<br />
1) I spend the largest amount of time at my job helping girls put on wedding dresses, and taking them off. This was not surprising. The thing that surprised me is the number of women that will take off their shirt and bra without a second thought while I am there to assist them in dressing. I have seen lots of boobs. LOTS of boobs. Of all sizes and levels of perkiness. The sheer quantity of boobs I have seen since I started working as a bridal consultant is staggering. Truly. Staggering.<br />
<br />
At first, I was surprised.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ9FaF1cAWTkM0FdCv7j8248AY1uWPESwDN6vzIMr1X3iXyEX-ctJo60yXLtskLHUlZ72dwXGUuMWfmIFtyaXLEsxElo9Wl9_7gkbnTp3-vLaDafLz65vVTy7kUM_y17opfhAOspI2sAI/s1600/01.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ9FaF1cAWTkM0FdCv7j8248AY1uWPESwDN6vzIMr1X3iXyEX-ctJo60yXLtskLHUlZ72dwXGUuMWfmIFtyaXLEsxElo9Wl9_7gkbnTp3-vLaDafLz65vVTy7kUM_y17opfhAOspI2sAI/s1600/01.png" /></a></div><br />
And then it happened again....<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibG3ujBbZLGi7z4rcjDi4-ckXGXzck8IZ74Rtw4fxNZc6h4-kOkygUS48pxGDERqhKip53EGQ_ZU3WgJAtQYsdaimUHZf8CT8fqvsaZSraXnSmodefJzinOqIgv3zhb4zt2wrqsQ5ufYE/s1600/03.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibG3ujBbZLGi7z4rcjDi4-ckXGXzck8IZ74Rtw4fxNZc6h4-kOkygUS48pxGDERqhKip53EGQ_ZU3WgJAtQYsdaimUHZf8CT8fqvsaZSraXnSmodefJzinOqIgv3zhb4zt2wrqsQ5ufYE/s1600/03.png" /></a></div><br />
And again....<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi85U7X841n2-4Rvd1j5OWPJEc6AWRQU3b9zVJCodW5NPWfivZI20xGAtccq4u26YNWxj6Ac_7Y0UK7t41GjUbkp5sqn5CGSewrcbFClmbX6fVeesmPjrDqbBifaaKNori-weHPWPJmWf8/s1600/04.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi85U7X841n2-4Rvd1j5OWPJEc6AWRQU3b9zVJCodW5NPWfivZI20xGAtccq4u26YNWxj6Ac_7Y0UK7t41GjUbkp5sqn5CGSewrcbFClmbX6fVeesmPjrDqbBifaaKNori-weHPWPJmWf8/s1600/04.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibG3ujBbZLGi7z4rcjDi4-ckXGXzck8IZ74Rtw4fxNZc6h4-kOkygUS48pxGDERqhKip53EGQ_ZU3WgJAtQYsdaimUHZf8CT8fqvsaZSraXnSmodefJzinOqIgv3zhb4zt2wrqsQ5ufYE/s1600/03.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><br />
Until finally, I stopped noticing. I stopped caring. Now I wonder how boobs could ever have been considered sexual in nature. They have become that much a part of my daily life.<br />
<br />
2) I knew that I would be dressing girls. I didn't realize how many of the dresses I would be working with have corset-backs. They look like this:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghuOH_elbDk96b7lib21Tdm58vmywR9EiaAdf1E_guxDknKnmfWUPuz0RNHJzGMQ5RSaYvz2CdBrwEm-6OCkIcTUEf49dv9KsfxaUWZ4Ms9iJDLWW6S4AQXJsrZJS8kuLvlpv1CgqQW8M/s1600/05.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghuOH_elbDk96b7lib21Tdm58vmywR9EiaAdf1E_guxDknKnmfWUPuz0RNHJzGMQ5RSaYvz2CdBrwEm-6OCkIcTUEf49dv9KsfxaUWZ4Ms9iJDLWW6S4AQXJsrZJS8kuLvlpv1CgqQW8M/s1600/05.png" /></a></div><br />
I tie more of these in a typical day than preschool teachers tie shoe laces!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9woy-QPqeL_JsMOAJuvA3D9y59ON251EhGmX-qIyuFhfN0sb46DLFzLH33WGG_E5MK9pq5cLI6gJnuPaH5BzqCuo9QN9Crux3YsrQAjXx-JJmvQFPeYY5CdvL9Z0BBA_l9BpB5WFfLP0/s1600/06.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9woy-QPqeL_JsMOAJuvA3D9y59ON251EhGmX-qIyuFhfN0sb46DLFzLH33WGG_E5MK9pq5cLI6gJnuPaH5BzqCuo9QN9Crux3YsrQAjXx-JJmvQFPeYY5CdvL9Z0BBA_l9BpB5WFfLP0/s1600/06.png" /></a></div><br />
3) Apparently, nobody has any idea what constitutes appropriate undergarments when another person is going to be dressing them.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIsnaPNVO2B7GeRk6rJpR39NwMSoDDkbCY2peNawNZda5zCZmkJGqHMni1gLq3kYc0GBT6P_mpZbKrsbaorBi2M5LSu0hgHdd4IMHQ0BaHQGPfgUkPwF3hoDQ3IHacqpHqsm1BgolDggI/s1600/07.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIsnaPNVO2B7GeRk6rJpR39NwMSoDDkbCY2peNawNZda5zCZmkJGqHMni1gLq3kYc0GBT6P_mpZbKrsbaorBi2M5LSu0hgHdd4IMHQ0BaHQGPfgUkPwF3hoDQ3IHacqpHqsm1BgolDggI/s1600/07.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Please don't wear your sexy lingerie!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_scXokMPv811C8dwq06RORiqhAS8scPQR8Q356QxBRsaTefR584m4Z_cCZvuiHDhqCJdjr_IFuAiy-uUTpAMuNTY1gPLk7ljRUrBdKnVIsBKB-wtRivCqRmk2xOQEDjRO0Jkx0wAoTSQ/s1600/08.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_scXokMPv811C8dwq06RORiqhAS8scPQR8Q356QxBRsaTefR584m4Z_cCZvuiHDhqCJdjr_IFuAiy-uUTpAMuNTY1gPLk7ljRUrBdKnVIsBKB-wtRivCqRmk2xOQEDjRO0Jkx0wAoTSQ/s1600/08.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black undergarments + White dress = FAIL</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbMDVE78Q6QkgoXfsSxqTt0trsaP2QDqCcK6iNWiPyaHDnFP_HBlZLZ_J8Datou8JltI2npHXU2D2jIhrIppBdsvSTSUKyGOwLA7ztwzqo2zBm-DXZkcMISKdNAMk6Qclqyg4nBcTVw70/s1600/09.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbMDVE78Q6QkgoXfsSxqTt0trsaP2QDqCcK6iNWiPyaHDnFP_HBlZLZ_J8Datou8JltI2npHXU2D2jIhrIppBdsvSTSUKyGOwLA7ztwzqo2zBm-DXZkcMISKdNAMk6Qclqyg4nBcTVw70/s1600/09.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Save the thongs for your dress pants. I have no desire to see your buttocks.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
I'm only going to say this ONCE people! Wear nude-colored undergarments, and a STRAPLESS bra! it is not that hard! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYUMmvr_CKoY0L0RMSJV9JvSdvWwchnjlgCXL4XO7I4Q0hbzaba9y3OGnrCdJ62jwCuw_ysLzSXkr_TMklumluPlCAk5MT2dRwguDbTSfEYfD_smYBE3nVCZGDK7NmetL90vYCvhRG-3M/s1600/10.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYUMmvr_CKoY0L0RMSJV9JvSdvWwchnjlgCXL4XO7I4Q0hbzaba9y3OGnrCdJ62jwCuw_ysLzSXkr_TMklumluPlCAk5MT2dRwguDbTSfEYfD_smYBE3nVCZGDK7NmetL90vYCvhRG-3M/s1600/10.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Congratulations, You are not a Whore!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
4) Apparently, some people think that $200 is enough money to buy a beautiful wedding gown that is BRAND NEW and completely undamaged. You can't even manage that at (blugh) David's Bridal! News flash, if you want anything on your dress AT ALL, expect to spend at LEAST $600. If you spend less on one month's rent, you aren't spending enough!<br />
<br />
....Also, I had more stuff to say about my job. But I am bored of blogging now. Also, I want to post this now. So Viola.<br />
<br />
Also, if you missed my last post, don't forget to read and comment on that one too!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3963139172068287732.post-7890038653485764412011-01-08T20:58:00.000-06:002011-01-08T20:58:06.213-06:00That's Right Folks, I Really Am That Awesome!I know it has been a few days since I posted. Get used to it folks. I have a full-time job now. Also, I'm taking a class. I don't have time for daily posts anymore. I'm sorry.<br />
<br />
Anyways, I am here with you today, to say that I am awesome! See me fancy new background? Guess what?<br />
<br />
I made it myself. That's right, folks. I'm a REAL artist too! <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL7ANzf6aTojnHNnrjvdybFIIWLiTa5sa-O11oVQYfUuQ03mFEH2vhy1PFFx28lOZ3ee7pLQHZKmURdaVeOulsmzCoWCZusgOx0wYw4CRSP9NQm-wcTq2yu78D4qbTyy_KZSqogeG1e1w/s1600/01.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL7ANzf6aTojnHNnrjvdybFIIWLiTa5sa-O11oVQYfUuQ03mFEH2vhy1PFFx28lOZ3ee7pLQHZKmURdaVeOulsmzCoWCZusgOx0wYw4CRSP9NQm-wcTq2yu78D4qbTyy_KZSqogeG1e1w/s640/01.png" width="586" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Like Van Gogh, but better!</td></tr>
</tbody></table> I made my background, and my new banner! I'll be changing my badge in the very near future to match my new updated look! Also, I will probably add a <a href="http://newadventuresofchristine.blogspot.com/2011/01/because-im-computer-wizard-i-want-to.html">favicon</a> like <a href="http://newadventuresofchristine.blogspot.com/">Sister</a> did (cause I'm a computer whiz too!). But that is for another day.<br />
<br />
I've also been busy making a background, a banner, and a badge for my very close friend who recently started a blog of her own! You can see her blog <a href="http://glimpsesofcoruscation.blogspot.com/">here</a>, or just click the badge in my sidebar!<br />
<br />
Also, I want to take some time to give a very special thank you to a <a href="http://obscurityandacompetence.blogspot.com/">new blogger friend</a> that sent me a present!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1583433142" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="520" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY77TLveaarmBA96TQhOsnr3HfaRLYCIBzsWd_X1-Rq2rUtuZq0DuGRjljXvzfGeq_s4PiR5rQols2tHxBPaJ5mrHqO-VogHiNglVnYJuS3sQ4F9TvmfuH6KX80_kPF23eJmEJYFZ0uTk/s640/Catherine+Present+Welcome+Back.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here is the present he gave me. The rest of you folks have some catching up to do!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>And I have, of course, already shown you all the present I got from Kaloo, over at <a href="http://chickenmaker.blogspot.com/">Chicken Maker</a>!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFjpLECNnVwrg-l-GthOZhuKmiTBAiDReFbfvdMDfIGyquX5gvj13iU3CU2-turbKFvOrWm72_5C0ucdBREE4MKqNII7th5HFt1idwIsbGh9ulLuwFzIyFFCoxB__0jy2n19ExhOTLDS0/s1600/05.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFjpLECNnVwrg-l-GthOZhuKmiTBAiDReFbfvdMDfIGyquX5gvj13iU3CU2-turbKFvOrWm72_5C0ucdBREE4MKqNII7th5HFt1idwIsbGh9ulLuwFzIyFFCoxB__0jy2n19ExhOTLDS0/s1600/05.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is as awesome as it gets, folks.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
You might remember him from an <a href="http://chickenmaker.blogspot.com/">early post</a> I wrote about our <a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/09/where-did-you-go.html">fated friendship</a>. In light of the recent presents I have received, I have added a brand new page to the top of my blog there, titled "Gifts." You send me a present, and I will put it there to share with the world! Also, I will link back to you there for giving me such a nice present! ^_^<br />
<br />
I was planning on doing a longer, funnier post today.....but that banner took FOREVER to finish up. Also, it took a long time to get the background to work when I tile it vertically....<br />
<br />
So I guess that is it for today. I will start working on another post tonight (hopefully to go up tomorrow).....and it will be good. I promise!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Also, anyone that wants to do a guest post for me (including you two awesome people that offered in the comments of my <a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2011/01/letter-to-my-readers.html">latest post</a>), go ahead and write one up, and send it my way! Remember, my e-mail is <a href="mailto:seenandsaid@gmail.com">seenandsaid@gmail.com.</a><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_vtHN8NIyGmqE0d7Xoc0CUYHiONr3jLcWqJ1LMwA_keYYdFbfFBLxvzNorkgtrDWeJOJrbgpJi48WBMjHA621E-KGpi4e-_M7y9S1LEIL73U_i2Q-aYCCfvTwrStk98Z9YqHjLSFsNUY/s640/02.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="608" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I know, another reused picture, but it's better than nothing, right?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In addition, I would like to remind all my lovely readers that I will happily work with you to make blog backgrounds, banners, and badges for you if you ask nicely! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieoE2Ym5cdt3uWZ7l6MmcMF_kf9tTU0A5bUF_m-_inWjlHc4nZAhKoYoeFSkykuu-8XlCmfGBF-9WVJQoHNXuRx-zgp6P5ciqs6F3sVlz66zeKg4DFu9Y1Be0dned_nRoc40EyrhpohH0/s1600/work.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieoE2Ym5cdt3uWZ7l6MmcMF_kf9tTU0A5bUF_m-_inWjlHc4nZAhKoYoeFSkykuu-8XlCmfGBF-9WVJQoHNXuRx-zgp6P5ciqs6F3sVlz66zeKg4DFu9Y1Be0dned_nRoc40EyrhpohH0/s640/work.png" width="598" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Because I am just that awesome.....and generous.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Tune in next time for a wonderfully amusing story about growing up with my very best friend......or about my new job selling wedding gowns......Whichever I feel like doing. =)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3963139172068287732.post-5093127305356140992011-01-04T11:56:00.000-06:002011-01-04T11:56:18.768-06:00A Letter to My ReadersDear Readers,<br />
<br />
I've got a problem with you. Yes. YOU.<br />
<br />
"What is the problem?" You might be asking. "What have I done wrong?" Well let me tell you, there are LOTS of things you have done wrong, but more specifically, there are at least SEVEN things that you have done wrong in regards to my blog. That's right. SEVEN.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwU0Q4VlEkSSkTXmTZK7ZNbsLC8O71z6irmvgNlRvzbFi9u6LHRT_3M-rAoozvM6ALYDvNoWWyQviVqCOUKANkDMVwTjVRvhFvfx0V1metwOLFgf-Onw8JEXciyHoR7izz7DK2gr99y7k/s1600/00.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwU0Q4VlEkSSkTXmTZK7ZNbsLC8O71z6irmvgNlRvzbFi9u6LHRT_3M-rAoozvM6ALYDvNoWWyQviVqCOUKANkDMVwTjVRvhFvfx0V1metwOLFgf-Onw8JEXciyHoR7izz7DK2gr99y7k/s1600/00.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And SEVEN is apparently very angry with you!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
You must really be sucking right now.<br />
<br />
Really, you should know what you've done wrong. If you don't know, then I'M not going to tell you!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
......Okay, you convinced me.<br />
<br />
<br />
FIRST, dear readers, you allowed me to ignore my blog! For more than a WHOLE MONTH. That's like infinity in the the blog world!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwOHmFI-TU-E63UCHS9Z9ym-8YlF57b8Ud2zX0FNHh9u_yviiqxd42CutKr7I8oMhWXB-4I71KSuPm6xFIdYtH9gA-yknOP23RDVRjF-1l4oYUXXMMIgFV4-Bl1fHoTosyKrBvmptfxfQ/s1600/01.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwOHmFI-TU-E63UCHS9Z9ym-8YlF57b8Ud2zX0FNHh9u_yviiqxd42CutKr7I8oMhWXB-4I71KSuPm6xFIdYtH9gA-yknOP23RDVRjF-1l4oYUXXMMIgFV4-Bl1fHoTosyKrBvmptfxfQ/s1600/01.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I just drew infinity for you. I know. It's mind boggling!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Basically, you all let me ignore you. I didn't get any emails.....<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_vtHN8NIyGmqE0d7Xoc0CUYHiONr3jLcWqJ1LMwA_keYYdFbfFBLxvzNorkgtrDWeJOJrbgpJi48WBMjHA621E-KGpi4e-_M7y9S1LEIL73U_i2Q-aYCCfvTwrStk98Z9YqHjLSFsNUY/s1600/02.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_vtHN8NIyGmqE0d7Xoc0CUYHiONr3jLcWqJ1LMwA_keYYdFbfFBLxvzNorkgtrDWeJOJrbgpJi48WBMjHA621E-KGpi4e-_M7y9S1LEIL73U_i2Q-aYCCfvTwrStk98Z9YqHjLSFsNUY/s1600/02.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seriously, I couldn't make it any easier for you!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I didn't get any <a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/p/requests.html">Requests</a>. I didn't get any shout outs from other blogs (except one or two from <a href="http://newadventuresofchristine.blogspot.com/">Sister</a>, but I think we all know that she was just giving me a shout out so she wouldn't feel guilty about stealing my<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyLPvP5cpd-XV5AFiZEaWj1YXlk2AlNY-yL5VMreqOUfv6kQ-7385k4Hjedz-uDtfhyvRaiLOtJU3N83YnVbVu3wyAw12iNw5DoIEocbrF-_2wW1-ZyeMFPW8cltpNjOB9KAo-YJq8gxk7/s1600/Step+14.png"> picture</a>). Apparently, none of you love me as much as I love you.<br />
<br />
Thanks. I feel really special.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVH5Wxsyjo_ddNzfvT8ZnSPk2tLm000gezYekwRVXsluKfSlKWQf_nQc8pnZUl9jNznoqNP9yE388lKfH_GbI6Yb9PTl_OWI0dDaEAXNkI62xZrd1klx-PmQyGmnvf7RJbCOOD3m6jbcg/s1600/03.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVH5Wxsyjo_ddNzfvT8ZnSPk2tLm000gezYekwRVXsluKfSlKWQf_nQc8pnZUl9jNznoqNP9yE388lKfH_GbI6Yb9PTl_OWI0dDaEAXNkI62xZrd1klx-PmQyGmnvf7RJbCOOD3m6jbcg/s1600/03.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And I used to think we were friends!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>SECOND, I didn't get any awards in my absence. What is wrong with you people? There is no reason for not giving awards.....especially to me! Really.....even a borrowed AWESOME medal would do.....<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMEh6OFaYPUkNQRGO1EFZiRp_XTtc2JjWViZ1d8UpgDieLUDpYAWEr944tGVe3J5eIcyt15n6gZgZU2orKZafLfOgdO7uvG64RweUrl9m8I6LLb5jiNt1O0zV3y41wVqq2MLiL-VhHjDY/s1600/04.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="601" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMEh6OFaYPUkNQRGO1EFZiRp_XTtc2JjWViZ1d8UpgDieLUDpYAWEr944tGVe3J5eIcyt15n6gZgZU2orKZafLfOgdO7uvG64RweUrl9m8I6LLb5jiNt1O0zV3y41wVqq2MLiL-VhHjDY/s640/04.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image "borrowed" from <a href="http://newadventuresofchristine.blogspot.com/">Sister</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Just saying. I'm pretty awesome. Also, I am disappointed in all of you, dear readers, because none of you have recognized my awesomeness with shiny round pieces of metal on colored ribbons and/or award badges that link back to your blog. Hey, it's publicity for you, AND for me.<br />
<br />
Actually, maybe I will make an award of my own. Yeah. And I won't give it to any of you. So THERE! Maybe then you will know how I feel.<br />
<br />
THIRD, Dear Readers, You have not been clicking on my ads. I am saddened by this. Not only can I not (legally) admonish you for this, but it also means I do not make money. This is very sad.<br />
<br />
......the upside of this for you is that I've decided to remove them......Earning 2 dollars over the course of three months is just not good enough to be worth having the ads.<br />
<br />
Lucky you.<br />
<br />
<br />
FOURTH, I have not received any presents. Except from <a href="http://chickenmaker.blogspot.com/">Chicken Maker</a>. He is awesome. Just look at what he gave me!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFjpLECNnVwrg-l-GthOZhuKmiTBAiDReFbfvdMDfIGyquX5gvj13iU3CU2-turbKFvOrWm72_5C0ucdBREE4MKqNII7th5HFt1idwIsbGh9ulLuwFzIyFFCoxB__0jy2n19ExhOTLDS0/s1600/05.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFjpLECNnVwrg-l-GthOZhuKmiTBAiDReFbfvdMDfIGyquX5gvj13iU3CU2-turbKFvOrWm72_5C0ucdBREE4MKqNII7th5HFt1idwIsbGh9ulLuwFzIyFFCoxB__0jy2n19ExhOTLDS0/s1600/05.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gritty Sharp Chicken</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The rest of you are seriously lacking in your present-giving capacities. I'm sure you can push through your present-giving drought, and start and maintain a steady present-giving stream of AWESOMENESS.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu1O7WgYXzpxgm9G8OI5XurXsNtFqDoqy3WudfBwdrs1JYPthM0Ov_0kMOiY8Y_1B3LNlAYzgjUc97AD9u60Pqeyx6ODRZzHji5cY9YqJ3o9rFUv6HFzBBo1StfkqGUFKjDNScVcvK-VY/s1600/06.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu1O7WgYXzpxgm9G8OI5XurXsNtFqDoqy3WudfBwdrs1JYPthM0Ov_0kMOiY8Y_1B3LNlAYzgjUc97AD9u60Pqeyx6ODRZzHji5cY9YqJ3o9rFUv6HFzBBo1StfkqGUFKjDNScVcvK-VY/s1600/06.png" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
FIFTH, You all missed my birthday. Even after I let you guys all know what things make <a href="http://newadventuresofchristine.blogspot.com/2010/09/guest-post-10-things-that-every-girl.html">GREAT PRESENTS FOR GIRLS.</a> In case you are not sure what would have made an excellent present for me, here is a hint:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjYMoVyBO_EJmGWB4uUoVBbBkasai6JZUhQc2CQN1PW1bn9FsLwYmGJ0XaxFsq_nfD73GmH9xMR7AKLChKQe1A-qaCIBYnYLUrWXG4hjV-hPomX85tkffDmSq2q-1FHUTD043RKz3CJlc/s1600/Unicorn.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjYMoVyBO_EJmGWB4uUoVBbBkasai6JZUhQc2CQN1PW1bn9FsLwYmGJ0XaxFsq_nfD73GmH9xMR7AKLChKQe1A-qaCIBYnYLUrWXG4hjV-hPomX85tkffDmSq2q-1FHUTD043RKz3CJlc/s1600/Unicorn.bmp" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everyone loves unicorns. Even boys. They just don't want to admit it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
SIXTH, I told you all that I was going to be sparse to nonexistent for awhile, because of real life things <a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-am-extremely-busy.html">demanding my time and attention</a>. This is why I asked if any of you were interested or willing to do a guest post for me.<br />
<br />
I had no such luck. There was one bite, but that ended up falling through. I am ashamed of you all. You could have used the opportunity to steal some of my readers or followers, publicize your blog, and try your own hand at MS Paint (or it's Apple equivalent). Seriously, people, I was totally swamped with things to do!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiC-0PCqfflNRHG1u2KreGSEfIww0ZgQ3MfbMU00zhgDe_aJsIIXBC5ZHBuISSqpStHbzyHps91adYbb1x7xVx2UG-SUDe_II0IaztJ7ou6a5nxo3XuqwrN3L5Q6vAtYQmy0OIW7WTCdk/s1600/busy+7.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiC-0PCqfflNRHG1u2KreGSEfIww0ZgQ3MfbMU00zhgDe_aJsIIXBC5ZHBuISSqpStHbzyHps91adYbb1x7xVx2UG-SUDe_II0IaztJ7ou6a5nxo3XuqwrN3L5Q6vAtYQmy0OIW7WTCdk/s1600/busy+7.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Remember this drawing? I wasn't kidding about this stuff!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Lucky for all of you, I have completed my resume, finished compiling my portfolio, found a job, completed the interview project, wrote the 10 page paper (and received an A, if anyone is wondering), and have had a successful start on my diet (16 pounds lost, 26 to go!). I have also started working, taken my exams, finished the semester, scrounged together enough money to buy christmas presents for everyone in my really big family, and had my mom come to visit.<br />
<br />
Oh yeah, and my roommate left, we moved things into his old room, making it into a reading/music room, rearranged the living room, bought some new furniture, celebrated my birthday, christmas, and new year's eve.....all this with school, work, and time spent with my dog, my fiance, and my friends as well.<br />
<br />
I have been BUSY.<br />
<br />
Shame on all of you for not relieving me of some stress, and taking on a bit of picture blogging on your own.<br />
<br />
Just saying. Could have used some help.<br />
<br />
LAST, but not least, I have not received any e-mails with questions. This is sad because my <a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/p/faq.html">FAQ</a> has remained unchanged since the day I wrote it.<br />
<br />
I am saddened by your lack of curiosity, Dear Readers.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Anyways, I am back, and blogging like a maniac once again! But I will not keep up a daily posting schedule. That is too much to do, what with school, and work, and cooking, and budgeting, and video games, and reading, and piano, and stuff..... Plus I'm not very good at staying focused. Really.<br />
<br />
But maybe that will get better now that I've officially been diagnosed with ADD, and been given medication to help address the problem.<br />
<br />
I guess we'll find out together!<br />
<br />
Also, we need to pool together and get some more followers, folks! <a href="http://newadventuresofchristine.blogspot.com/">SISTER</a> has more followers than me! We need to change this! Because apparently our blogging is a competition. And it makes me feel good.<br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
<br />
Catherine<br />
Seen and Said<br />
<br />
<br />
P.S. I'm just giving you guys a hard time. I really do love and appreciate each and every one of you. Especially those of you who take the time to let me know how much you did or didn't like my posts!<br />
<br />
P.P.S. Also, I completely redid my background, banner, and buttons. I hope you all like it! I think it's less overwhelming this way....and also less....caustically bright.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3963139172068287732.post-23747005915692698272010-11-20T12:10:00.000-06:002010-11-20T12:10:23.358-06:00The C.A.W.S.Today, I am here to talk to you about something very important. Something very special. Something very pertinent. That thing of course is this:<br />
<br />
The Christine Advanced Warning System<br />
<br />
The CAWS is a slightly-less-than-effective system in place to prepare me for Sister awesomeness! It is supposed to let me know BEFORE she posts in <a href="http://newadventuresofchristine.blogspot.com/">her blog</a>, so that I can be the first to enjoy it, and perhaps even enjoy the chance to perform my First Comment Dance.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2dbqoAx-8KiCx_szN2H9UGbXsRPBJWaxi8eCMuDZFxd9oLX_8XH0WEvr-o92CopWdX7nJubmZysN0fSLEA8ky2WgPS6W2SBQFeCeslPRlxAzNZA7qLxQOv3gtweIRUl3KgrbQYoI9Cwc/s1600/comment+dance.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2dbqoAx-8KiCx_szN2H9UGbXsRPBJWaxi8eCMuDZFxd9oLX_8XH0WEvr-o92CopWdX7nJubmZysN0fSLEA8ky2WgPS6W2SBQFeCeslPRlxAzNZA7qLxQOv3gtweIRUl3KgrbQYoI9Cwc/s1600/comment+dance.png" /></a></div>Also, it's really helpful because, then I can prepare myself for mind-blowing humor. It's especially important to be prepared so I don't explode after reading her new posts!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTCBj0V5pQTvIaOJhtGnd2FUVgKPGZPFrkJg_R1PNTbvkvh-PH5UKqC6AYDVCjlnqr7z2qzSEfBG0TOhxxDYTTNDAwfHQrEbDFP8Ss3Exiq3597phmyPLQYojlpU5zdcRCFe_ANKKcxcg/s1600/explode.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTCBj0V5pQTvIaOJhtGnd2FUVgKPGZPFrkJg_R1PNTbvkvh-PH5UKqC6AYDVCjlnqr7z2qzSEfBG0TOhxxDYTTNDAwfHQrEbDFP8Ss3Exiq3597phmyPLQYojlpU5zdcRCFe_ANKKcxcg/s1600/explode.png" /></a></div>Because folks, they really are that funny! I swear!<br />
<br />
Anyways, I have attempted to create a Christine Advanced Warning System....but it isn't very effective. I need to add some sort of bell to it, or something. It's just a bit hard...cause how do I attach a bell to Sister that ONLY rings when she updates her blog, and how do I get it to work from a 560 mile distance? And then there's that whole obsessively waiting problem of mine....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaNTqXyoHwmMz-FlAaD570INc2l3nixm2EumKoAxBowYF9rvRle9RikA5UPdTEl8OugMfF3xWxLodsgSEtaL0xjsff1jpqWOK6jxVxeAHhg-gZ_vwdxt4EuzgVWR1DOjyBu2Jx75286Bg/s1600/waiting.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaNTqXyoHwmMz-FlAaD570INc2l3nixm2EumKoAxBowYF9rvRle9RikA5UPdTEl8OugMfF3xWxLodsgSEtaL0xjsff1jpqWOK6jxVxeAHhg-gZ_vwdxt4EuzgVWR1DOjyBu2Jx75286Bg/s1600/waiting.png" /></a></div>I would probably watch that bell, instead of eating, or sleeping, or.....you know....anything else I need to do for whatever reason. And really, Sister doesn't need all that pressure, cause then she might crawl into a corner and refuse to come out and draw for he blog posts anymore!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTtlby0iF9fhoPYK63g9IsrLmXEahi9m8yAtGT_i7lOaLFer7AjwSnYtOqUEmAPgCmb_qPz_9OaV_h4TFhMcQmwl_1BJbxFloIe8d2oOTn8daK8gY74-8kVm5FLiSqoXhN0CoNFH2Ri2w/s1600/pressure.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTtlby0iF9fhoPYK63g9IsrLmXEahi9m8yAtGT_i7lOaLFer7AjwSnYtOqUEmAPgCmb_qPz_9OaV_h4TFhMcQmwl_1BJbxFloIe8d2oOTn8daK8gY74-8kVm5FLiSqoXhN0CoNFH2Ri2w/s1600/pressure.png" /></a></div><br />
So ....yeah......I need to make it work better.<br />
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<br />
<br />
<br />
Also, on a side note, I am looking for some GUEST POSTS to help fill in some of the gaps between posts until I make it through the final push through the school year, and get a job!<br />
<br />
Want to try your hand at Paint?<br />
Want to try your hand at humor?<br />
Want to take a chance to abscond my readers for yourself?<br />
Want to <strike>do my work for me</strike> write a post for someone else?<br />
<br />
This is your chance! Shoot me an e-mail at seenandsaid@gmail.com or leave a comment here about it, and I'll definitely be in touch! I'm talking to YOU. You know you want to guest post!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3963139172068287732.post-84658143964895854362010-11-17T15:22:00.000-06:002010-11-17T15:22:57.341-06:00Training Your Significant OtherI'm super lucky to have Fiance in my life. We've been dating for just over 4 years now, and I couldn't be happier.<br />
<br />
Because I have trained him well.<br />
<br />
Here is my patented list of ways to TRAIN your significant other.<br />
<br />
1) Reward them for every little thing! Opened the door for you? Give him a kiss! Cooked you dinner? Give her a kiss! Cleaned up the house while you were gone? Give 'em a kiss! It's very important to let them know that you appreciate everything they do. This will make your significant other more likely to do things for you! Eventually you can phase out the rewards.<br />
<br />
2) Disguise your requests for slave labor. Don't ask him to come <strike>do all the chores and cleaning</strike> help you out. Ask them to come over for a moment. Give them a reward, and then mention your need in an offhand way. "Oh, hey, while you're here, could you hang this up for me please?" Keep this up, and he will come every time you call, no matter what you need!<br />
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3) Never hesitate to correct your significant other when they step out of line. A swift, and prompt punishment is important whenever your significant other steps out of line, or they will continue their negative behavior.<br />
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4) Remember that rewards should be interspersed randomly after the association between a behavior and the reward is established. This way, they will continue to do the positive behavior hoping for the reward to come, because they never know when they will get it.<br />
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5) When out and about, if your significant other doesn't want to go along with you to a particular store, give him a sharp tug in the right direction. He will follow you happily.<br />
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Remember, folks, training your significant other is a lot like training a dog! Except better, because they don't pee on the carpet, and the best rewards get enjoyed by both of you! (i.e. sex)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3963139172068287732.post-21427146723811598472010-11-11T19:16:00.000-06:002010-11-11T19:16:17.292-06:00A Page from Sister's BookI am sorry for no post today...and probably not for another for a few days, so I am taking a page from <a href="http://newadventuresofchristine.blogspot.com/">Sister's</a> book. Tonight, you are getting some cute pictures of my puppy! Enjoy.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxa7Y7GPQbtm9w6BQUkFQ-5WxSY9l_ytgRF7h0T6uriujhH6VORkYWbmmyDe_FttmuHaOSdHIFgeUnWAfLUP5rbQmIkNIqOd-BfEfiIpttXdjd5zCEoU_-ssAhyphenhyphencws-6t-wg32HfSAOzM/s1600/IMG_9158.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxa7Y7GPQbtm9w6BQUkFQ-5WxSY9l_ytgRF7h0T6uriujhH6VORkYWbmmyDe_FttmuHaOSdHIFgeUnWAfLUP5rbQmIkNIqOd-BfEfiIpttXdjd5zCEoU_-ssAhyphenhyphencws-6t-wg32HfSAOzM/s640/IMG_9158.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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And also, for those of you who are curious, here is a picture of Fiance and me!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijuBC9NerCpJYXsK5HXzYyHY6dsnDB4z_P_NxX8Hh0xb0TDynAfZXWarAYVQW5XsGXf1dEaUz-OBXsenkPhHCnchvouBtIqgSU8ZqASuk7n8iA4DnIohPzoIC0WF-zjIsaQpQAbJRJS58/s1600/IMG_8856.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijuBC9NerCpJYXsK5HXzYyHY6dsnDB4z_P_NxX8Hh0xb0TDynAfZXWarAYVQW5XsGXf1dEaUz-OBXsenkPhHCnchvouBtIqgSU8ZqASuk7n8iA4DnIohPzoIC0WF-zjIsaQpQAbJRJS58/s640/IMG_8856.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3963139172068287732.post-12141784692837617062010-11-10T16:48:00.000-06:002010-11-10T16:48:03.486-06:00I am Extremely BusyI'm so so so so so so so sorry for the sparse updates, dear followers and readers! I am sad to say that the sparse updates will have to continue for a few weeks. I am so sorry, but I am just too busy to update every day with oodles and oodles of pictures.<br />
<br />
This is what my next few weeks are making me feel like.<br />
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Needless to say, I have some very important things demanding my attention. Unfortunately for you, dear readers, blogging has fallen to the background for now.<br />
<br />
My question for you is this:<br />
<br />
Would you rather have more posts with fewer (or even no) pictures, or fewer posts with more pictures? <br />
<br />
Thanks so much for your input!!! I have to go now though. I have some exercising to do tonight, and I need to eat dinner first, let it settle, and stretch.<br />
<br />
Bye!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3963139172068287732.post-13304902917694925172010-11-08T20:15:00.001-06:002010-11-08T20:17:13.832-06:00A Letter to Mark BurgDear Mark Burg,<br />
<br />
What the heck is your problem? Why would you ever spend that much money to produce the Saw movies? They are torture porn. Who the heck would want to watch torture porn? Who the heck would want to produce it??? You are truly a strange human being.<br />
<br />
As a result of your graphic, violent, malicious, sadistic films I find that I have trouble sleeping at night. Shortly after seeing any of these films (that is to say, hiding in my room while Little Brother and Fiance watch them), I have trouble sleeping. I think every little sound is something terrible. My nights then go something like this...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-cxqHYdAnl9LjHmI0xIspX9ZIxOvZSoTzDYJZmWDjKZSeQNLhJ-4i9lPdZ8jlSeuba24z99gcXrO96PbuEALpFmUjYNhg3jeLHU8Qzs4bkh6uoZhfW6i10TmUhT_peHwR5_-eD_W960Q/s1600/sleep+01.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-cxqHYdAnl9LjHmI0xIspX9ZIxOvZSoTzDYJZmWDjKZSeQNLhJ-4i9lPdZ8jlSeuba24z99gcXrO96PbuEALpFmUjYNhg3jeLHU8Qzs4bkh6uoZhfW6i10TmUhT_peHwR5_-eD_W960Q/s1600/sleep+01.png" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHdlDB6xap0s0uyOMqdAOW5v0XqmrnKEuW9n5ReFXq4DZf2KHYkawGQMbWCC7-xO1f6Z49qkvQTECQIwE6JHfdlKbnpVlkbC2BLP6Nldx1CS301UNluokmaEgNREnARssxzVN_k7j3hLc/s1600/sleep+02.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHdlDB6xap0s0uyOMqdAOW5v0XqmrnKEuW9n5ReFXq4DZf2KHYkawGQMbWCC7-xO1f6Z49qkvQTECQIwE6JHfdlKbnpVlkbC2BLP6Nldx1CS301UNluokmaEgNREnARssxzVN_k7j3hLc/s1600/sleep+02.png" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCvraFiAZdmxhg7UHwUj7FqU819itu7HQvbAyPQoR7RGVESPM-r39HO3WGgGlL-u5FxgU8-VTmm2ERxA_ivWDADjn4hNOoz3wVDoq5CJwD6Xe92KEYutemsLCU7OWItevANES6V5EtVfU/s1600/sleep+03.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCvraFiAZdmxhg7UHwUj7FqU819itu7HQvbAyPQoR7RGVESPM-r39HO3WGgGlL-u5FxgU8-VTmm2ERxA_ivWDADjn4hNOoz3wVDoq5CJwD6Xe92KEYutemsLCU7OWItevANES6V5EtVfU/s1600/sleep+03.png" /></a></div><br />
And I spend all night moving between these three steps. Settling into a restless light sleep, and then BAM. There is some sort of creepy noise. A car driving by, some jerk yelling at his drunk friends down the street, my roommate coming home. A door creeking. The house settling. The floor groaning.<br />
<br />
Then I can't do anything but curl up in a corner, going crazy.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlkDs0AlO4pArxha083yFiVKqywvdeRrBCTDBpsz4jWJNXUshdjvwDQ1VzlXef5mySToYfk4jWDco3dvA4qH3a3oe4ud-dhAmOofX232v26vCLV5X6ZPf5aJ5GY3DqeqAiqgyICzPFIsM/s1600/sleep+04.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlkDs0AlO4pArxha083yFiVKqywvdeRrBCTDBpsz4jWJNXUshdjvwDQ1VzlXef5mySToYfk4jWDco3dvA4qH3a3oe4ud-dhAmOofX232v26vCLV5X6ZPf5aJ5GY3DqeqAiqgyICzPFIsM/s1600/sleep+04.png" /></a></div><br />
Please, Mark Burg, do the world a favor, and create less horror, gore, and fear in the world. Why can't you produce a few movies with happy fuzzy bunnies that like to paint rainbows or something? I think that would make a much better film.<br />
<br />
Also, if you INSIST on producing films that scare the pattootie out of me, I wish you would at least have the decency to make films that FAIL in the box office, instead of creating a bunch of box office hits. This makes these torture pornography films impossible to avoid or ignore.<br />
<br />
Mark Burg, I hate you forever. Please go eat some candy, pet a unicorn, and look at the bright side of life.<br />
<br />
Yours Truly,<br />
<br />
Catherine<br />
<br />
P.S. You even give my dog nightmares. Congratulations. I hope you are happy.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3963139172068287732.post-78608158569238202302010-11-04T20:06:00.000-05:002010-11-04T20:06:36.188-05:00Houston, I Have a ProblemAs many of you know, I am HOPELESSLY addicted to cookies. But this addiction goes so much further than cookies. I am addicted to pretty much all desserts. I love sweets. My sweet-tooth is VERY demanding.<br />
<br />
When I see a plate of cookies, or a freshly baked brownie, or chocolate cake, or a happily colored package of candy, my sweet tooth comes to life!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO6uew37aYof0O4t5gSo583tNKqk6HwydWc9lwEFOxIn3rrpWnuqXZDXlJOi2a0gO4tIWA-RY2DYy8f6Lj1-5F1Z33Ug9pm5d8PGFOncdPJGavc6PavpUWWiuDkgmpS1QMAem64Y6aCYk/s1600/sweet+tooth.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO6uew37aYof0O4t5gSo583tNKqk6HwydWc9lwEFOxIn3rrpWnuqXZDXlJOi2a0gO4tIWA-RY2DYy8f6Lj1-5F1Z33Ug9pm5d8PGFOncdPJGavc6PavpUWWiuDkgmpS1QMAem64Y6aCYk/s1600/sweet+tooth.png" /></a></div><br />
How can I possibly do anything but obey? Unfortunately the end result of this is that I get food babies very often! Until eventually, my frequent food babies ceased to be frequent, and started being permanent.....Here is my proof.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrDJn_QYmxwKWLBtvngZfe_JlL9EXaYlGrII3TgfsHcYgmML5jPsbbvxgYrpg9p9mTW-pk351qLOWf4ihqb__-wvcqdi9ZwJVR8AZ1Q2GJA5l2QxwrxilH_qUa3XpMsRd-VDftRXVObHg/s1600/permanent+food+baby.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrDJn_QYmxwKWLBtvngZfe_JlL9EXaYlGrII3TgfsHcYgmML5jPsbbvxgYrpg9p9mTW-pk351qLOWf4ihqb__-wvcqdi9ZwJVR8AZ1Q2GJA5l2QxwrxilH_qUa3XpMsRd-VDftRXVObHg/s400/permanent+food+baby.png" width="300" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I am able to devour piles and piles of food. You might even say MOUNTAINS of food. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm0NAiWmCO81nOqHroG9NQwVZpNqNJQT7UoEnA8hohrOIuZAtFcZ_rEQfN_svz3NRCgcX9irxigQVQXz9EMcJNDDOSOQ-TaetsUN-Yk_Hd5RlEpkgLs9cnUzd8munhw6ZyXMef2aBgxMU/s1600/candy+mountain.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm0NAiWmCO81nOqHroG9NQwVZpNqNJQT7UoEnA8hohrOIuZAtFcZ_rEQfN_svz3NRCgcX9irxigQVQXz9EMcJNDDOSOQ-TaetsUN-Yk_Hd5RlEpkgLs9cnUzd8munhw6ZyXMef2aBgxMU/s1600/candy+mountain.png" /></a></div>.....but.....alas.....<br />
<br />
This has to change. I am tired of being at the beck and call of my appetite! It rides me like a slave driver! It looks something like this....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu7km9yJRUOGejVPtz9s4KRbJSKLeolqLUVNFZp3BZdsp0c0mVlBNJylCiEhnk0ejeKWE3XqZvT_BNfcoCgL8HNSUt1E65Ok-9nTKU4F6KiwX2pmx_osKuZPqs7vx5MDQz5wtmkLtNySo/s1600/cookies.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu7km9yJRUOGejVPtz9s4KRbJSKLeolqLUVNFZp3BZdsp0c0mVlBNJylCiEhnk0ejeKWE3XqZvT_BNfcoCgL8HNSUt1E65Ok-9nTKU4F6KiwX2pmx_osKuZPqs7vx5MDQz5wtmkLtNySo/s1600/cookies.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8dSy3dYfYLK15XFHqFnQGOh3CUNwhmfofqeUihyphenhyphennWF398fQz_CkSZVnjZ_IdYAdRvzTyHgUTgsKiDC2YF3ghfFqRd1HKhTIMKg_cKyBZyLnskZ0J9bx1DGGbAKoFqkXhoMfN1LQuq0C8/s1600/cheesecake.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMAaU0FW4h4sHOC9N3pNi3KwgB-kfrCCMJkZT0q5_vqixBMT8qd3Bj1JqsaomkVRguoxfAWaWLi8YRq3wFwwIs3CGyz_VSwym1La1T0hG8WyQxzKQiZmR7FDHV9iYSvaC2Js9sFaBakjw/s1600/cake.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMAaU0FW4h4sHOC9N3pNi3KwgB-kfrCCMJkZT0q5_vqixBMT8qd3Bj1JqsaomkVRguoxfAWaWLi8YRq3wFwwIs3CGyz_VSwym1La1T0hG8WyQxzKQiZmR7FDHV9iYSvaC2Js9sFaBakjw/s1600/cake.png" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOVNcGsWx2myGVfuDKmApRvV9lDdobDwk5JOfPcW8u-BgKLjn22AKXodEi8yDOvWsJCw2LmvIXEFD4lTQOHyVbNstoc9ssZR0QBLBDTmVr_SwKQFEv0ofoHY3AlFSK-IR0uJuiUHRflKE/s1600/brownies.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOVNcGsWx2myGVfuDKmApRvV9lDdobDwk5JOfPcW8u-BgKLjn22AKXodEi8yDOvWsJCw2LmvIXEFD4lTQOHyVbNstoc9ssZR0QBLBDTmVr_SwKQFEv0ofoHY3AlFSK-IR0uJuiUHRflKE/s1600/brownies.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnhUN9quqTOjegwwjTHqErjVztnVARP8Jfy85mx4yHFm2ApI04HgW3cKRRYblvzkRMhY5GloHCHxDQdFKsMZSSofDuxspJPt7kkpse3sBJbzb5OwU34O1S1_VCNxiJC-Af54acF8epSNg/s1600/cheesecake.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnhUN9quqTOjegwwjTHqErjVztnVARP8Jfy85mx4yHFm2ApI04HgW3cKRRYblvzkRMhY5GloHCHxDQdFKsMZSSofDuxspJPt7kkpse3sBJbzb5OwU34O1S1_VCNxiJC-Af54acF8epSNg/s1600/cheesecake.png" /></a></div><br />
So I have decided to go on a diet! And I will be totally awesome!!! I plan to lose 40 pounds! Which is a lot...I think.<br />
<br />
Anyways, I mentioned it briefly in my last post....but here is the badge to my new secondary blog to track my diet progress! I don't expect any of you to care so much, but anyways...if you want to follow along on my journey, and don't mind a lack of pictures or humor, or if you want to get to know the person behind the blog a bit better, feel free to check it out. =)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://diet-fiend.blogspot.com/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Diet Fiend"><img alt="Diet Fiend" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4070/5143846834_b7417c773a_m.jpg" title="Diet Fiend" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3963139172068287732.post-12684230718262325572010-11-03T23:24:00.000-05:002010-11-03T23:24:16.934-05:00I Apologize Yet AgainI have been very busy. I started a weightloss blog today. I've added the badge to my list of badges on the sidebar. It's called Diet Fiend. Also, I got a brand new phone.<br />
<br />
...an iPhone 4.<br />
<br />
I will tell you all about one of those two things tomorrow.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3963139172068287732.post-91996841878039884932010-11-02T22:22:00.000-05:002010-11-02T22:22:42.867-05:00Things I Do in the Bathroom....But Probably Shouldn't.Everyone has a few things they do that they know they really shouldn't. I am one of those people. There are LOTS of things I do that I shouldn't. In fact, there are so many of them, that I am going to focus on just one place. The bathroom. The water closet. The toilet room. The restroom.<br />
<br />
Whether it be public or private, there are things I do in the bathroom that I really shouldn't do. I'd bet money that you guys have a few things you do in the bathroom that you shouldn't do also. Here are just a few of the stupid things I do.....but probably shouldn't.<br />
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1) <b>Eat</b> - I know that the bathroom is germ-infested. I know that it is coated with a fine spray of fecal matter. But damnit, if I'm eating a jello cup, I'm not going to stop just because I am walking into the bathroom to retrieve some make up...or deodorant....or my cell phone, because sometimes I leave it in there.<br />
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2) <b>Talk on my cell phone</b> - I'm not saying that this is a good thing. Actually, this annoys the hell out of me when I see other people do it. But I am not innocent of this crime.....Yeah. Sometimes, I'm that annoying girl having a conversation while I'm peeing. Get used to it.<br />
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3) <b>Play video games </b>- I have a Nintendo DS lite. It is AWESOME. The upside is I have something to do when I'm waiting on something. The downside is that this means I spend more time on the toilet than I need to....finishing up just one more puzzle on my game.<br />
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4) <b>Read</b> - This is pretty much the same problem as the video games....except worse. I can sit on a toilet for twenty minutes distracted in a video game. I can sit on a toilet for an HOUR distracted by a book. It is BAD NEWS, people.<br />
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5) <b>Skip washing my hands</b> - This is the one that I am most ashamed of admitting. Sometimes I don't wash my hands. I'm lazy.....and busy..... and sometimes I just don't care enough to wash my hands after using the bathroom. This doesn't happen often or anything. But come on. I bet you skip occasionally too!<br />
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6) <b>Pop pimples</b> - I know you are not supposed to do this. But I do. I just can't help it. They DEMAND to be popped. They haunt me. I just can't....ignore....them......<br />
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7) <b>Remove dirty clothes</b> - This is only a problem because I leave them there, instead of placing them in a dirty clothes bin. They go on the floor....in the bathroom.<br />
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8) <b>Put dirty clothes back on</b> - I don't always get around to doing laundry when I need to....or....ever get around to it for that matter. The result is that I sometimes spend fifteen minutes looking for clean clothes....and then settle on the cleanest smelling shirt I can find.<br />
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9) <b>Blog</b> - Sometimes you go to the bathroom and it takes a long time to do your business....On the occasion that this is going to happen, and I know it is going to happen....I sometimes take my laptop with me....and check my email. And watch youtube. And blog. I could be sitting on my toilet right now. You don't know.....and I'm never telling. BWAHAHAHA.<br />
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10) <b>Make Out</b> - Sometimes, in the morning, after I get up , fiance will accost me in the bathroom with kisses and cuddles. I know that bathrooms are "unsanitary," but that won't keep me from getting my make out on!!! Rawr!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXxhqkbbUaoIbV2Su22bnCbzIojbTdmLvM_QcVTPhYlTQ7kEFppmTSXHrDYk7AYRG7Fq7AMMga4a2Q0XAm9VssdkAQwd9iQLyLzUUgV2JzSNUPKkPOHr0sHZkTUJxcUh4V_5Af5fv-NYQ/s1600/make-outs.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXxhqkbbUaoIbV2Su22bnCbzIojbTdmLvM_QcVTPhYlTQ7kEFppmTSXHrDYk7AYRG7Fq7AMMga4a2Q0XAm9VssdkAQwd9iQLyLzUUgV2JzSNUPKkPOHr0sHZkTUJxcUh4V_5Af5fv-NYQ/s1600/make-outs.png" /></a></div><br />
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So there you have it. There are definitely more things I do, but I am keeping it down to 10....because it is a nice round number, and I don't want to do any more drawings than that. Sorry for my absence lately, dear readers. I've been busy. And distracted. Also, I am trying to apply for some jobs, so I have just had a bit less time than usual.<br />
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Also, I am sorry for the shortage of pictures, but I just don't have the energy for it tonight. Maybe tomorrow. I'm pretty sure the <a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/09/attention-readers.html">Lazy Monster</a> has gotten hold of me again. I will have to work extra hard to <a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/09/how-to-remove-lazy-monster.html">remove</a> this one.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3963139172068287732.post-77487303683799171152010-10-31T09:43:00.001-05:002010-10-31T10:46:01.121-05:00GUEST POST: October's BloggerstockIn honor of the last day of October, and also because I am awesome, Bloggerstock is taking place! So here is the guest post I've been given by Nicole! If you want to check out the guest post I did, take a look over at <a href="http://kickherrightinthehabit.blogspot.com/">Kick Her Right in the Habit</a>! You can read my post <a href="http://kickherrightinthehabit.blogspot.com/2010/10/spooky-all-hallows-eve-to-you-crazy.html">here</a>!<br />
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________________________________________________________________________<br />
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<br />
Thanks to a lovely things called <a href="http://www.bloggerstock.net/">Bloggerstock</a>, Catherine has allowed me to coopt her blog for the day. Every month, Bloggerstock creates a giant blog ring wherein we all write guest posts for one another on a given theme. The lovely Lily from <a href="http://isittooearlyforamartini.blogspot.com/">Is it too early for a martini?</a> is <a href="http://www.sweeneysays.com/2010/10/28/bloggerstock-spooky/">gracing my blog with her awesomeness</a>. I signed up this month without really considering the theme. For Halloween, they have asked us to write something "spooky." They want scary stories, but anyone who isn't awesome enough to write a scary story can just talk about a Halloween costume.<br />
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I am terrible at scary stories. I apologize from the get-go if you were eagerly awaiting some awesome horror story. Maybe Catherine delivered something magical like that in her Bloggerstock post, but you will not find it here. Unless, that is, you find ridiculous homemade Halloween costumes terrifying. In which case, I definitely have some gems for you.<br />
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<a href="http://www.sweeneysays.com/2010/10/24/hey-mom-thanks-for-making-me-cry-no-really-thank-you/">Recently on my own blog</a> I have been talking about what a weird kid I was. In elementary school I was fairly well-liked so it took me a little while to put it together and realize that I was a strange child. Halloween helped me figure it out. In kindergarten I, along with every 5-year-old girl in 1993, dressed up as Jasmine. Never mind the fact that I am a pale blonde-haired-blue-eyed child who will never look anything like Jasmine. I had awesome Jasmine pajamas that I wore as my costume. This was vastly inferior to many of the other more elaborate Jasmine costumes. In first grade I was a more generic princess. I was so excited to get to wear this fantastic sparkly skirt that had belonged to my older cousin who, in my 7-year-old mind, was just the coolest person to walk the face of the earth. Again, though, it was clear that my princess costume was a bit lacking.<br />
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This one of the first moments that I realized I was never going to excel in at anything conventional. Even among quirky seven-year-olds, I was stand-out quirky. Also, my school gave out prizes for awesome Halloween costumes (this practice was discontinued after I graduated because it was deemed bad for kids' self-esteem.) I realized that Halloween was totally something I could and should be good at.<br />
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So in the second grade, I was a spooky tree. I distinctly recall patronizing adults asking me if I was a tree, and responding full of righteous indignation that I was, in fact, "A <i>spooky</i> tree." There was so little respect for my artistic vision. Shameful. I was so unspeakably proud of that brown piece of foam, even though I obviously did none of the actual assembly work for this glorious costume.<br />
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<img src="http://i54.tinypic.com/207vlax.jpg" /><br />
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My mom was like a fucking magician when it came to this stuff. I think that same year my older brother was a haunted house. My mom actually built a doll-house-esque haunted house with a body-hole in the middle. I think her crowning achievement came a year or two later with my little brother's Gameboy Color costume. Not only was the Gameboy awesome, she made him an equally stellar Toad costume to wear while inside the Gameboy. I think the only problem I have with that costume was the fact that it was <i>too</i> good. It looked store-bought and lacked some of that home-made character.<br />
I only managed to claim second place with my Spooky Tree. I think I lost out to a Raggedy Anne doll. Regardless, it was clear to me that this business of Halloween was more in line with my skill set. In subsequent years I would dress up as a painting and a book.<br />
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In the fifth grade my class decided to do a theme thing. Since the whole class voted to do this, our class would be marching in the Halloween parade separately from the other fifth grade classes. (I'm not sure I have made it clear how seriously my elementary school took Halloween. We were upper-middle-class Valley kids. A substantial chunk of our parents - mine not included - made their living doing Hollywood's grunt work.) This meant that I had to either participate in the theme or not march at all.<br />
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It also meant that I could kiss my prize goodbye. If I couldn't march, I couldn't be eligible. Even if I did, we were all matching so it wasn't like I stood a chance. This was devastating news for me. I lived for that contest. Elementary school kids aren't actually as inventive as people like to give them credit for, so it wasn't really that difficult to win a prize, since most kids dress up as different variations of the same five or six things. Difficulty wasn't the point. The point was that I was being rewarded for being different. This was huge in my world.<br />
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My mom realized how distressed this made me and found me a compromise. It wouldn't get me a prize, but it would satisfy my obsessive need to be different (which, as I mentioned last week, changed a bit the following year). Instead of dressing up like a soldier (which was our theme) like everyone else, we would do a <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0081375/">Private Benjamin</a> take on it. She bought me a large camouflage tank top and took in the sides so that it became a dress. It was pretty damn cute and I was a fierce-looking ten year old.<br />
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However, true to form, I freaked out on the actual day of the march. In an incident that foretold a pink-polo-shirt debacle the following year, my mom basically told me that I no choice but to march in the dress. I vaguely recall one of my classmates offering me a pair of khaki pants that I could wear. It would have looked fairly stupid, but maybe less defiant than the dress.<br />
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Unlike the pink-polo-shirt episode, I'm not really positive about the tears or the level of anxiety. I do, however, distinctly recall my mom telling me that I would regret it if I didn't march in the dress. I would not, however, regret marching in the dress.<br />
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And while I know how I felt after marching in the parade with the dress, I know she was at least right about that outcome. I definitely felt a sense of accomplishment for having gone ahead and marched in my cute dress. And all of the other little girls asked me where I got my cute dress because they all wanted one too.<br />
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So my childhood struggles were not actually spooky, but they were filled with life lessons. Halloween is still one of my favorite holidays because of everything that it represents to me. In college I joined my school's annual productions of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. This, again, embodies all of this self-expression, dare-to-be-different awesomeness that makes Halloween such a great holiday. The first year that I participated was a personal test; it was liberating for somebody plagued with body image issues to be able to walk around campus in a corset and fishnets. Stone cold sober.<br />
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Halloween is amazing because it is the one time of the year where we are all actively encouraged to step outside of ourselves for a little while. My second year in Rocky Horror I was upgraded from tranny to Riff Raff. (1) This is a male role. (2) He's on of the few people who wears clothing for most of the show. (3) This meant I had to actually sing solos (!!!). Now that I had gotten all comfortable with running around in lingerie I had to put my clothes back on...It was big terrifying step for me in its own right, having nothing to do with the wearing or not-wearing of clothing. I had to push myself (and the ears of our poor audience), and I was grateful for it, because that's what Halloween is all about.<br />
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So in the interest of leaving you with something a little spooky, BEHOLD:<br />
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<img src="http://i52.tinypic.com/2ely0ht.jpg" />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3963139172068287732.post-73347694707481289412010-10-30T15:23:00.000-05:002010-10-30T15:23:38.310-05:00A Skeleton's Woe<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqNfLf3DL4wGacSX384ytTbfO3BAt5-0QbhWKJysCr1OKNrzwLvKtGTHDFslXLX9wshEGvD8X5WImT40TCX_0hKcZVKfFxAngjzsVkMxqjvQH1IIIPxmdCUm9rIwjbxwzWDjZZcg3864A/s1600/01.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqNfLf3DL4wGacSX384ytTbfO3BAt5-0QbhWKJysCr1OKNrzwLvKtGTHDFslXLX9wshEGvD8X5WImT40TCX_0hKcZVKfFxAngjzsVkMxqjvQH1IIIPxmdCUm9rIwjbxwzWDjZZcg3864A/s1600/01.png" /></a></div><br />
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The result of this is that I am looking for a job. Also, I have added a few ads to my blog. I'm really sorry, guys, but I wanted to test out the earning potential of them, and frankly every little bit helps.<br />
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I've added on ad bar on the bottom of the side column, one in the footer, and I've also included ads in my feed. I promise not to make my site completely overwhelmed with them. You will NOT be seeing ads on every single post. Or any posts, if I can help it! I've also reduced the content on the side bar to make it a bit lighter in response to this extra bit of advertising.<br />
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Sorry I have nothing super special to post today. You will just have to be satisfied with the knowledge that I am getting a super special GUEST POST on Sunday, October 31st. I am participating in Bloggerstock (there's a badge in the sidebar if you're curious), and will be receiving a guest post, while I am writing a guest post for somebody else! It's going to be lots of fun!<br />
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In addition, I was wondering if it would be worth the time and effort to set up a store for my blog... Maybe put together an art book, screen some images on a few tote bags or t-shirts.... Would it be worth the time and money? Would you guys be interested? I don't want you to think I'm selling out...because that's not my goal. I intend to continue producing quality posts on an (almost) daily basis, and I don't intend to go crazy advertising anything I make. Right now I just want to gauge your reactions and opinions. I'm not even sure if I have a solid enough (or large enough) reader-base for such an effort to be worth my time.<br />
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That is all.<br />
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As always, Dear Readers, I <3 you. ^_^<br />
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Regular posts will return tomorrow!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3963139172068287732.post-87936264996818100102010-10-28T12:14:00.000-05:002010-10-28T12:14:51.755-05:00Bear vs. Shark (part 2)Last time, on Bear Vs. Shark, shark charged in, grabbing bear's paw for the first blood. Bear hit shark on the nose, making him dazed and confused. Then bear leaped in for the kill. If you missed the picture version of this, check out <a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/10/bear-vs-shark-part-1.html">part one here</a>.<br />
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Now for the startling conclusion....<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ3CS1TIK1GWmvn_Jj38Z0TnCpYRaW9eWTXGM5B3_Y3TbZV-nWIEoQaIQt0YSxxV8s-f0C1bMZl0MkOIVMp0f7DmWfU-ABnt-qRXffIZtPck2d9IRXWpQXc3h4NSAf7gywsTykfAUY25k/s1600/bearshark+9.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ3CS1TIK1GWmvn_Jj38Z0TnCpYRaW9eWTXGM5B3_Y3TbZV-nWIEoQaIQt0YSxxV8s-f0C1bMZl0MkOIVMp0f7DmWfU-ABnt-qRXffIZtPck2d9IRXWpQXc3h4NSAf7gywsTykfAUY25k/s1600/bearshark+9.png" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh81FjxaWeO_Y_tlIpICtzo2JHCh8m37artYHKOpki2ZnC9xiVnnwrK4El0G1mOyOXoylMREgYXuFyoxQM4uz446wb0S1-OyDDhDNH5SXieU24_xIiK8cdrqAM96qroWPn5Ibb3Kfr4KVg/s1600/bearshark+10.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh81FjxaWeO_Y_tlIpICtzo2JHCh8m37artYHKOpki2ZnC9xiVnnwrK4El0G1mOyOXoylMREgYXuFyoxQM4uz446wb0S1-OyDDhDNH5SXieU24_xIiK8cdrqAM96qroWPn5Ibb3Kfr4KVg/s1600/bearshark+10.png" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuXNV7FNBoN_xIAoR8gJ_APjfvkPUC3RRFSF8qMRN0Ltenz9RnV2nk-ZHJehg2SE5zM10WUxw2P6urfZG7MpoG_GXRZR-tB9-W7uXCu431VdcbWAF9xs_-7jd0bcji1Pm0nJPUUqH_oLg/s1600/bearshark+11.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuXNV7FNBoN_xIAoR8gJ_APjfvkPUC3RRFSF8qMRN0Ltenz9RnV2nk-ZHJehg2SE5zM10WUxw2P6urfZG7MpoG_GXRZR-tB9-W7uXCu431VdcbWAF9xs_-7jd0bcji1Pm0nJPUUqH_oLg/s1600/bearshark+11.png" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWzXW2rpj1xJZ2QbwXqyveCkN6ND9YceykNhy0zM2QeqP5ZA5sNgP1jL_evqACtpkHFzJY6_zAtr79GsnGvKKFL2hBuVso_Rk8CdGdbkLsl69UvF6cyq8kJJn3UqoeuCQIMuP-jpodbGg/s1600/bearshark+12.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWzXW2rpj1xJZ2QbwXqyveCkN6ND9YceykNhy0zM2QeqP5ZA5sNgP1jL_evqACtpkHFzJY6_zAtr79GsnGvKKFL2hBuVso_Rk8CdGdbkLsl69UvF6cyq8kJJn3UqoeuCQIMuP-jpodbGg/s1600/bearshark+12.png" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEwtyqRSnvkGGngZoVzVq_IBq-SJJ2O2cVECAvtcXVd4BdBGSHug64y4h8-4aAr5te-Pu8TtWTqzMWNhQnJHziYK6TQ8nrWDRmmEqNsKAtlYdMXUH53BvpB_HdDsd8F4caZ1f0kOb0RBI/s1600/bear+shark+13.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEwtyqRSnvkGGngZoVzVq_IBq-SJJ2O2cVECAvtcXVd4BdBGSHug64y4h8-4aAr5te-Pu8TtWTqzMWNhQnJHziYK6TQ8nrWDRmmEqNsKAtlYdMXUH53BvpB_HdDsd8F4caZ1f0kOb0RBI/s1600/bear+shark+13.png" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5yWeYaxrla8wSuq1ocxu_Xo8sYWhAVw4K2br1TVDCJj5lg2L58OAVJpGMCdfaJoSVoUeEiTXHMaGtoZ9LlLDA8IGjTCnejaU3bNu5EkjnQ_HSbznj6WPeM0BTa0piEfOcxgxE7T7dpyY/s1600/bear+shark+14.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5yWeYaxrla8wSuq1ocxu_Xo8sYWhAVw4K2br1TVDCJj5lg2L58OAVJpGMCdfaJoSVoUeEiTXHMaGtoZ9LlLDA8IGjTCnejaU3bNu5EkjnQ_HSbznj6WPeM0BTa0piEfOcxgxE7T7dpyY/s1600/bear+shark+14.png" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnsadMQxOuL_2JDTZYcERVxiLTk38sYDkAbyZzyfo9tfI7hXbCbA9Rp9T9DvDKafKuD-T8vSq3C0nPFPP9xE-YiJ9_rthzGG3M8ORJsU8hJsy_4v3wQRRvJH93mG1Mnh5DNiSaQ-zo96w/s1600/bearshark+winner.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnsadMQxOuL_2JDTZYcERVxiLTk38sYDkAbyZzyfo9tfI7hXbCbA9Rp9T9DvDKafKuD-T8vSq3C0nPFPP9xE-YiJ9_rthzGG3M8ORJsU8hJsy_4v3wQRRvJH93mG1Mnh5DNiSaQ-zo96w/s1600/bearshark+winner.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3963139172068287732.post-60208962969933752802010-10-27T12:10:00.000-05:002010-10-27T12:10:12.151-05:00Bear vs. Shark (part 1)The eternal struggle. The never-ending battle. The unanswerable question. Who will triumph?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisyAo7p9eFxiKinpnK5OmlG_FQsyxqm3qZOZe_-bW2LidsN33DmzLTaQcJ2KmFvZxaqXDrGZDsvmb34DBB0tvZnqKkMhHYOKbbR20b-VSHdrtgZ0Y6sWY_rNZzAWD2hP3B9lnlQEiyqIQ/s1600/title.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisyAo7p9eFxiKinpnK5OmlG_FQsyxqm3qZOZe_-bW2LidsN33DmzLTaQcJ2KmFvZxaqXDrGZDsvmb34DBB0tvZnqKkMhHYOKbbR20b-VSHdrtgZ0Y6sWY_rNZzAWD2hP3B9lnlQEiyqIQ/s640/title.png" width="640" /></a></div><br />
It seems like an impossible question to answer, but I have put some thought into it, and I think I can safely say that I know the answer. In a situation where both contenders are in relatively shallow water, enough for the shark, but not enough to overwhelm the bear, with some sort of rock or island large enough for the bear to stand on, but not enough for the bear to feel safe from the shark, the answer truly is clear.<br />
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Below is a simulation of how this encounter might play out....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHkmXVW2WleppSuvqw7655Eekrw1K5V9HPQ6Tm1htGIvZzTzuoQ72YDd-VabtjHu3aBT4puF6Gm0EqLp0RaUWCF7Jh463JCa8FkagpZVHR2IE0kprrjwywIml-g85blaMixKTyapqQ4Fo/s1600/arena.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHkmXVW2WleppSuvqw7655Eekrw1K5V9HPQ6Tm1htGIvZzTzuoQ72YDd-VabtjHu3aBT4puF6Gm0EqLp0RaUWCF7Jh463JCa8FkagpZVHR2IE0kprrjwywIml-g85blaMixKTyapqQ4Fo/s1600/arena.png" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF0BWqytePR34Fj4K9DAfvhHuezZTPMHs8C_tbaLSMHAFyhfg5pQNnm1h9vphPZQY9pSLQGqgYyuGlNVf3D1nneFPqpGIPsFw8CtKIrqdNeX-lJyTwkR8tT0yukXR0xJCOfU00TgJ-8Rg/s1600/bearshark+1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF0BWqytePR34Fj4K9DAfvhHuezZTPMHs8C_tbaLSMHAFyhfg5pQNnm1h9vphPZQY9pSLQGqgYyuGlNVf3D1nneFPqpGIPsFw8CtKIrqdNeX-lJyTwkR8tT0yukXR0xJCOfU00TgJ-8Rg/s1600/bearshark+1.png" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi51rpH_jO5PNVRfU-j3UQSMpojVxUB8fDsHNJYCKIf0HuTku8zJyojojILUyGNQplqCRIMrReRTb0cnn_dOK1w2sOz8NYbriiCdW99Ez1Pr8-6OYyc5BDWNJbqTEl7JAAPqSPjp1aPoNI/s1600/bearshark+2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi51rpH_jO5PNVRfU-j3UQSMpojVxUB8fDsHNJYCKIf0HuTku8zJyojojILUyGNQplqCRIMrReRTb0cnn_dOK1w2sOz8NYbriiCdW99Ez1Pr8-6OYyc5BDWNJbqTEl7JAAPqSPjp1aPoNI/s1600/bearshark+2.png" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDJP0tyQCBXwaRylcIQm32bWVRQq5MVO8uHoVTVHT4pXp6BMA4O0CS8aN4fGiJQoqE5iGgS2GA4yXxCsMn5guG_bSsvbwVnW0WIuUVuYuyn_932B8fLQN2mZB2P_MxmDxdnd2vZub3rrY/s1600/bearshark+6.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDJP0tyQCBXwaRylcIQm32bWVRQq5MVO8uHoVTVHT4pXp6BMA4O0CS8aN4fGiJQoqE5iGgS2GA4yXxCsMn5guG_bSsvbwVnW0WIuUVuYuyn_932B8fLQN2mZB2P_MxmDxdnd2vZub3rrY/s1600/bearshark+6.png" /></a></div><br />
Can the shark regain his composure? Was entering the water a mistake for the bear? Who will draw blood next????<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwYP1nQiVGP9MbfG5SKDwHTDobfuInNlCiu_aKEkJJ4KiMWrSUgsBbw-_UqhwsJ512btXzsjy89JJ-5-6K6H1nylt1zYJJfYs0gTKm_uv82KCbOVpFWHmKlUyGKO7yOMNijrey1AddoUM/s1600/bearshark+7.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwYP1nQiVGP9MbfG5SKDwHTDobfuInNlCiu_aKEkJJ4KiMWrSUgsBbw-_UqhwsJ512btXzsjy89JJ-5-6K6H1nylt1zYJJfYs0gTKm_uv82KCbOVpFWHmKlUyGKO7yOMNijrey1AddoUM/s1600/bearshark+7.png" /></a></div>FIND OUT TOMORROW!!!<br />
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(Sorry guys, these drawings just take a lot longer to do than people drawings. I'll finish it up tomorrow!)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3963139172068287732.post-50636792355594185382010-10-26T16:28:00.001-05:002010-10-26T16:28:52.736-05:00My Dog is Also Cute When She's PlayingI have had a few people express a desire to see more of Sophie the Dog. So here is a recent video I took, just for you, dear readers! She is playing chase with me. Kinda. lol. Enjoy!<br />
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<object width="640" height="505"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/woBlNs5t87A?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/woBlNs5t87A?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="505"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3963139172068287732.post-11292163771062108072010-10-26T11:37:00.002-05:002010-10-26T12:18:36.061-05:00Toes are Totally AwesomeWe all have opinions about our bodies. Some of us like how we look. Some of us hate how we look. Some of us just want to change a few things. Some of us want to change everything. This is simply the way things are.<br />
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I have found that it boosts my self-esteem to focus on one body part, and appreciate it for what it does and how it looks. I am here today to tell you all, dear readers, that toes are totally awesome.<br />
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Specifically, MY toes are totally awesome.<br />
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First of all, I have all 10 of them! Nothing is more satisfying than having a completed set!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHKwQWERPVFE8w0tdXROWAAdyZfD6SGKxHTzMaI3QN7_JuHtJiUBxDBuMtFLF6Y6vZrUmussApLDpOciAr6ZE6HnRPCUNyrZwZOy3TTDIhWUQY9gfVCCTXLWneX6suZH77lI-Mf6kACFY/s1600/Complete+Set.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHKwQWERPVFE8w0tdXROWAAdyZfD6SGKxHTzMaI3QN7_JuHtJiUBxDBuMtFLF6Y6vZrUmussApLDpOciAr6ZE6HnRPCUNyrZwZOy3TTDIhWUQY9gfVCCTXLWneX6suZH77lI-Mf6kACFY/s1600/Complete+Set.png" /></a></div>Also, when I feel like spoiling them, I can give my toes some jewelry!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUToejAGM1uFPf6mWk7-Tftqu9XFjBXgT_Y5h97EdBrlyBfWWvV9dAu19f3O1pgrkdyyYAkryzXeQrqlwIm-bbFxOs19ZX5t2uH_H9nMtxll20RPg7CxDt6Lou0Od_Sp125_Z5lATvP1w/s1600/toe+ring.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUToejAGM1uFPf6mWk7-Tftqu9XFjBXgT_Y5h97EdBrlyBfWWvV9dAu19f3O1pgrkdyyYAkryzXeQrqlwIm-bbFxOs19ZX5t2uH_H9nMtxll20RPg7CxDt6Lou0Od_Sp125_Z5lATvP1w/s1600/toe+ring.png" /></a></div>I like to be nice to my toes, since they are so useful. They are SUPER IMPORTANT for weight-bearing, thrust, and balance. Without my toes, I probably couldn't walk!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPP7aUPf4CqHM2yI6Ikl50y10UEgESSIXHiTse2Jt3mY4BmaOJL3DCwnYxAPWZ3cbY1K4_bts9n97Ur5f9aK5Mhdu90ecW7Nacv6NtjKWNTPKUwELxMdY8hPeMPyKjR7fq7pAYttgjHnA/s1600/walker.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPP7aUPf4CqHM2yI6Ikl50y10UEgESSIXHiTse2Jt3mY4BmaOJL3DCwnYxAPWZ3cbY1K4_bts9n97Ur5f9aK5Mhdu90ecW7Nacv6NtjKWNTPKUwELxMdY8hPeMPyKjR7fq7pAYttgjHnA/s1600/walker.png" /></a></div>I use my clippers to keep them nicely trimmed.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2HLrvNZRbJJDR9FhLAxjQ703pB3viscvtYTv-rTQUTtomv2X7xXG-xhOz_EH0j2_Cg3G2ei_8YKRc_8F5oLsHackGyHRU6x5H-t1Cj4iCtcTZb0huZnv5P4d33xsQODthrDUO7o5BWPs/s1600/nail+clipper.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2HLrvNZRbJJDR9FhLAxjQ703pB3viscvtYTv-rTQUTtomv2X7xXG-xhOz_EH0j2_Cg3G2ei_8YKRc_8F5oLsHackGyHRU6x5H-t1Cj4iCtcTZb0huZnv5P4d33xsQODthrDUO7o5BWPs/s1600/nail+clipper.png" /></a></div>Sometimes, I take them to a salon and get a pedicure for them!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaNL0NZOCBOpM3X0c4_8nbgObGMoynvMMo7rquCihHFCav4P7ZxKAzP-bJFcQnlzOE9gxsWMeR7xkzmp5LTtCkhuGKqi6wWaxf9W0_PDbkyU-SdpZc_t5cwPP4l6J0wBY4Zm40vAkOL5s/s1600/pedicure.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaNL0NZOCBOpM3X0c4_8nbgObGMoynvMMo7rquCihHFCav4P7ZxKAzP-bJFcQnlzOE9gxsWMeR7xkzmp5LTtCkhuGKqi6wWaxf9W0_PDbkyU-SdpZc_t5cwPP4l6J0wBY4Zm40vAkOL5s/s1600/pedicure.png" /></a></div>It is lots of fun to pamper my toes. And they sure do deserve it!<br />
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I think we should all take some time to appreciate our toes. They may be one of the smallest parts of our bodies, but they are very important! You might even say they deserve a medal!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_578743688"><img border="0" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbSRskXE5LX5DWhjDZyJXN_6IH5DDLVq93iEX8dy6UtRcm-zNBehyqvM0d9E3LDmrpZ_Lxh4ODAZ8IK-1QAnvaHfi5UK1pIbNeDKdA1qkikQzMv6jrUUfNku3BwPUucdIZNOCkyiePtns/s640/awesome_award_by_starrynight11-d2xtcak.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image "Liberated" from <a href="http://newadventuresofchristine.blogspot.com/">Sister's Blog</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://newadventuresofchristine.blogspot.com/"></a></div><br />
So everyone remember to share the love, and pamper their toes today! I know I will!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3963139172068287732.post-38046365859494566312010-10-25T14:01:00.000-05:002010-10-25T14:01:14.993-05:00Things That I'm Addicted to...I have what my doctor calls an "addictive personality." This means that I am easily addicted to things that I find entertaining....or really just about anything new. I have found that my life, during the free-time, is a series of addictions.<br />
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As it happens, I have found that there are a few specific addictions that have outlasted temporary status, and become long-lasting fixations. These are the things that I focus on in my free time. The things that demand my attention. The things that I can become completely absorbed in, regardless of the time I have spent on them recently, or how long I have been away from that particular <strike>obsession</strike> hobby.<br />
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So here is a list of the things that I am most addicted to.<br />
<ul><li><b>Puppies</b> - Because who could resist that face? I think those of you who have been around here long enough know just how much I love <a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/10/my-dog-is-cute.html">Sophie</a>, my dog. Even if she is kinda <a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/10/okay-my-dog-might-be-retarded.html">stupid</a>....</li>
</ul><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOBie5flxv9uCsZEVUm0iB-CeknQV50QtxVuFZoD5BNFmxcbMEPoS56YaZCkTQWwmzKxJ3Pr18N11ooc8Ih6AlWIQoODtJho-fptCwarzd4Tgbi1gXU0QmROwoO6r0P8gLn4B29mJqPPY/s640/IMG_2079.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sister's Puppy, Lily</td></tr>
</tbody></table><ul><li><b>Blogging</b> - I can't actually say that this is one of my long-lasting obsessions that I keep coming back to....I haven't been doing this kind of blog long enough to know for sure....but it's definitely not my first venture into writing. Or into blogging.</li>
</ul><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikEhF6LAjogxMykKLHg7Gg170ssx8GfVuUYZOlhHzfhNI4MaI7hxETvrYTHeAcpfSGQ7x21eg2OW9cXFoqKCG9KeVLuB68rwZl676x2wBOyN2RWEIT7fPKfvPJEb4T9KSMA6_QV7qCjbM/s1600/blogger.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikEhF6LAjogxMykKLHg7Gg170ssx8GfVuUYZOlhHzfhNI4MaI7hxETvrYTHeAcpfSGQ7x21eg2OW9cXFoqKCG9KeVLuB68rwZl676x2wBOyN2RWEIT7fPKfvPJEb4T9KSMA6_QV7qCjbM/s640/blogger.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<ul><li><b>Video Games</b> - These are definitely an obsession that I mess with. I know that I've said that <a href="http://seen-and-said.blogspot.com/2010/08/10-things-i-didnt-want-to-know-about.html">working screens turn men into zombies</a>..... but as it turns out, they turn me into a zombie also. My game of choice varies quite a bit, but there is always a game that I'm likely to play on any given day.</li>
</ul><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIWsup9CjDUL5jctRmuduvuvYlKlZkgyl3zL4HENhShjgTWoWZroZxdI-c3yBSjzYJkhLpJUbHMV1vl7oIGq9iE3rC7q0mOX6C7GQAB_ibEhF84Qw-EKP8xFo-8H6DBpBkIfTlx_PdRoc/s1600/gamer.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIWsup9CjDUL5jctRmuduvuvYlKlZkgyl3zL4HENhShjgTWoWZroZxdI-c3yBSjzYJkhLpJUbHMV1vl7oIGq9iE3rC7q0mOX6C7GQAB_ibEhF84Qw-EKP8xFo-8H6DBpBkIfTlx_PdRoc/s1600/gamer.png" /></a></div><ul><li><b>SyFy and Anime TV series</b> - These change from time to time, but Fiance and I own every single Stargate SG-1 and Stargate Atlantis episode there is on dvd. We also own all of Andromeda. Plus a plethora of anime's....including Fruits Basket, Fullmetal Alchemist, Dragonball Z, Witchblade..... I'm obsessed, people. Not to mention all the shows available for free through Hulu.</li>
</ul><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiilGgzRr9aJc6WRXUIcKRH6GmgmZXG-WDWvgu-gr245u-uT0KAiVx4EQRAypzwAIdn0V3Js7tqqUBS4OBy3GaQAntX2ql2hlY27LM-b1w9SdpDapP4HRmZHD39c159XOWb20PFrteRtro/s1600/dvds.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiilGgzRr9aJc6WRXUIcKRH6GmgmZXG-WDWvgu-gr245u-uT0KAiVx4EQRAypzwAIdn0V3Js7tqqUBS4OBy3GaQAntX2ql2hlY27LM-b1w9SdpDapP4HRmZHD39c159XOWb20PFrteRtro/s1600/dvds.png" /></a></div><ul><li><b>Polka Dots</b> - This is easily my favorite pattern ever. If I have more than one of something, you can bet that at least one of them is covered in polka dots. Even my blog background, which I made myself, has a kind of polka dot look to it. I just can't help myself.</li>
</ul><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAEox0m61DzmGFL-dNv-keoKW8XgNKVSooVWHSYa9IYTCCBpOxyep2M2ceQbeYXtiZeX3q84_ZZcZupaRodGa41i2oF9ozElE2uoB_F5WlU-HJaOm6PTvJdKU5r09pLIFf17FMKD7tMjI/s1600/polka+dot.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAEox0m61DzmGFL-dNv-keoKW8XgNKVSooVWHSYa9IYTCCBpOxyep2M2ceQbeYXtiZeX3q84_ZZcZupaRodGa41i2oF9ozElE2uoB_F5WlU-HJaOm6PTvJdKU5r09pLIFf17FMKD7tMjI/s1600/polka+dot.png" /></a></div><ul><li><b>Cookies</b> - This one is obvious. Quite frankly, how could I NOT be addicted to cookies? I was a big fan of the Cookie Monster for a very long time.....at least until they messed with him so that he'd be more "healthy."</li>
</ul><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVPVTFYMePpLzG2gMnIoHFtRW0E7FGAlm0kij9BCfeq2YgFqd9MCEY8cldNJcOhtzZqibxZOx80Cv1pZmjuv1I9VBpxj5oXPMlSnK2cNPJloLDzt0LFowEhIzZbUx-6oTpnDQX603mKIE/s1600/cookie+monster.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVPVTFYMePpLzG2gMnIoHFtRW0E7FGAlm0kij9BCfeq2YgFqd9MCEY8cldNJcOhtzZqibxZOx80Cv1pZmjuv1I9VBpxj5oXPMlSnK2cNPJloLDzt0LFowEhIzZbUx-6oTpnDQX603mKIE/s1600/cookie+monster.png" /></a></div><ul><li><b>Dinosaurs </b>- These are my favorite creatures of all time. They are also lots of fun to draw! Here are just a few of the drawings I've already done of them!</li>
</ul><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOXY6xvHeXWlvfSgNGL0ZhoE7bpeB7XgsxpC4KtBtyU-vUEbKSytju31mfw-k7llfe0dGhOfO2rM67pbtqmXZfFG1ADSd7jmkHWdAhh4l2uVDPPPmoJKzP5KYq7YkwPbX3SELUVbaBFgs/s1600/door+opener.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOXY6xvHeXWlvfSgNGL0ZhoE7bpeB7XgsxpC4KtBtyU-vUEbKSytju31mfw-k7llfe0dGhOfO2rM67pbtqmXZfFG1ADSd7jmkHWdAhh4l2uVDPPPmoJKzP5KYq7YkwPbX3SELUVbaBFgs/s1600/door+opener.png" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg73R2md9TLCRejenH3YkW8-3eckfcU3o2pjdgyCIhIY6_H3R5bE-2d-zOYMQCeelgqSITvqYFoOofosk0epRJ_J3YT2yM4ewM2mEZRZoZ8RSPDnamenTzl14ubh2yqcbMhJ-YEVjYiQo8/s1600/tyrranosaurus.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg73R2md9TLCRejenH3YkW8-3eckfcU3o2pjdgyCIhIY6_H3R5bE-2d-zOYMQCeelgqSITvqYFoOofosk0epRJ_J3YT2yM4ewM2mEZRZoZ8RSPDnamenTzl14ubh2yqcbMhJ-YEVjYiQo8/s1600/tyrranosaurus.png" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-eQ50Le9DntDnR8V1iUBJfH5k-sWVzZfb3hkhSdCecT2m-8h4kcyiU3QCewlM2VtGefa8R0HV7sms6VOKbdXVOwfIWR_P4g4gqWnoi6aD_2BmDJll56R0GxYAJPbavuDfW5LG60t0Ftk/s1600/test+taker.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-eQ50Le9DntDnR8V1iUBJfH5k-sWVzZfb3hkhSdCecT2m-8h4kcyiU3QCewlM2VtGefa8R0HV7sms6VOKbdXVOwfIWR_P4g4gqWnoi6aD_2BmDJll56R0GxYAJPbavuDfW5LG60t0Ftk/s1600/test+taker.png" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVwYAGFbktupYR6bkpfpS74Yn3UXm596cs2BGPHpCSn9ws4n4ZA7jT0Dll2loom-r3lqyCUiSRrO6DJnHaWXRQ0cGxYkavY0w7U5oiT-sEcTHunvybxenlfSSVp9Z2EfKUY8mW4GHxgVg/s1600/brontosaur.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVwYAGFbktupYR6bkpfpS74Yn3UXm596cs2BGPHpCSn9ws4n4ZA7jT0Dll2loom-r3lqyCUiSRrO6DJnHaWXRQ0cGxYkavY0w7U5oiT-sEcTHunvybxenlfSSVp9Z2EfKUY8mW4GHxgVg/s1600/brontosaur.png" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDgqxsFrdH-f3nD5fYP-PJv6p2MBHoiLBdAbkfCLvQSgPo1Qzsoyowq7edzxw47jrufqKPqRBTT2q5IVRKH6jHPYr9Iwiz8aAupB3h-SOu6eaUN9wjAEfZ-Nuq6ttmsHyZyPxJ5Z9hnKw/s1600/graceful.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDgqxsFrdH-f3nD5fYP-PJv6p2MBHoiLBdAbkfCLvQSgPo1Qzsoyowq7edzxw47jrufqKPqRBTT2q5IVRKH6jHPYr9Iwiz8aAupB3h-SOu6eaUN9wjAEfZ-Nuq6ttmsHyZyPxJ5Z9hnKw/s1600/graceful.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiW_DwnMJ6aLAHx9270ojQCUOuUNivORuuiKFhMKn8c6jAEvUiBCQegNwy8ruvnNVNlN9_vwBIcecWnkujuk6ioQgwm7ZGi_TjCko_wWikyAwbxXvxYiKvroSCdqEdwN_02e-wc1LtSsQ/s1600/pokey.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiW_DwnMJ6aLAHx9270ojQCUOuUNivORuuiKFhMKn8c6jAEvUiBCQegNwy8ruvnNVNlN9_vwBIcecWnkujuk6ioQgwm7ZGi_TjCko_wWikyAwbxXvxYiKvroSCdqEdwN_02e-wc1LtSsQ/s1600/pokey.png" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsJiyd8VnAAFm6Yd6w8dxclrCFncoheAl-vHw2IWApx0HnvHig8g2rcH43znfdqeG2WTNN3wu4cp5K92ZUwVmug-UPyLkDmybmb8mZ7CAk62QGa8E0t5jG7lq5Z9WJWG06I6cmw4Nm3Xg/s1600/Dinosaurs.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsJiyd8VnAAFm6Yd6w8dxclrCFncoheAl-vHw2IWApx0HnvHig8g2rcH43znfdqeG2WTNN3wu4cp5K92ZUwVmug-UPyLkDmybmb8mZ7CAk62QGa8E0t5jG7lq5Z9WJWG06I6cmw4Nm3Xg/s1600/Dinosaurs.png" /></a></div><ul><li><b>Fancy Classic-Looking Book</b>s - If you have a nice thick, heavy, book that is leather-bound with built-in ribbon bookmarks and gold-edged pages, you can bet that I want to buy it from you! I think that the look of a bunch of those kinds of books lined up on a shelf or fireplace mantle is so classy. I am just addicted to it.</li>
</ul><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSFcsGWQh2EalG_-X-y2XzYqUBzOv6wZOa7P5w-lWnD02mfHyK2BnCfktWlfj_mjFGF-VnCV5SfSwQEEgnKV-ryNMl7rhSziY_8zLzUeO-_9Y7DaDhYBAH60NODHqC-f9nEC0AwLMQLvY/s1600/books.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSFcsGWQh2EalG_-X-y2XzYqUBzOv6wZOa7P5w-lWnD02mfHyK2BnCfktWlfj_mjFGF-VnCV5SfSwQEEgnKV-ryNMl7rhSziY_8zLzUeO-_9Y7DaDhYBAH60NODHqC-f9nEC0AwLMQLvY/s1600/books.png" /></a></div><ul><li><b>Cooking</b> - I love cooking. Cooking desserts, cooking entrees, cooking rolls, cooking pasta, cooking pizzas.....LOVE it. One year spent in a kitchen-less dorm was all my inner housewife needed to roar its ugly head and insist on kitchen access on a regular basis.</li>
</ul><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCNb3gSfb30wZTRXjyQY8nASGPBG3hT2K_ZKsP6Edx7E4vlJKIG7Bqi6-qTWKVpKkhBgchn-y101as-yoWJWdSdWDFMK_Kj_FnbyLuWZZAE5KQa9kIxxenauGShhBdp5Z4AOBkSrAF5OM/s1600/cooking.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCNb3gSfb30wZTRXjyQY8nASGPBG3hT2K_ZKsP6Edx7E4vlJKIG7Bqi6-qTWKVpKkhBgchn-y101as-yoWJWdSdWDFMK_Kj_FnbyLuWZZAE5KQa9kIxxenauGShhBdp5Z4AOBkSrAF5OM/s1600/cooking.png" /></a></div><br />
<ul></ul>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7