<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790</id><updated>2011-09-08T21:10:28.892-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions of a Blonde</title><subtitle type='html'>Always Love.........Hate Will Get You Every Time ~ Nada Surf</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>183</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-5781009107973091559</id><published>2009-09-23T09:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T09:19:33.011-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Lack of Blogging</title><content type='html'>Wow, it's been a long time since I've blogged. Life just goes by way too fast to keep up!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I will learn if I have a job for another year or not. I'm quite stressed about it. If the County is making cuts, I am probably one of the first to go (for a multitude of reasons that don't make sense, but they are too complicated for me to explain. Let's just blame it on Politics. That should say a lot.) It's not right, but that's just the way it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what do I do when I'm stressed? I eat. It's probably not the best way to deal with being stressed out, but it's oh-so-delicious. I'm crossing my fingers that after tomorrow, I'll be able to know a little bit about what my future holds so I can stop drowning myself in ice cream, cookies and Milky Ways. And Mt. Dew (not diet, of course.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news: Four weeks from Saturday I will be sunning it on the beaches of Hawaii.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tractor pulling is finally over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will know next month how long Nathaniel's girlfriend goes to prison.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am glad that fall is here. Now if it would stop being hot and humid, I may smile a little.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-5781009107973091559?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/5781009107973091559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=5781009107973091559' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/5781009107973091559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/5781009107973091559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2009/09/lack-of-blogging.html' title='A Lack of Blogging'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-6678633574914290471</id><published>2009-05-21T15:09:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T15:12:30.875-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"That's Adult Talk!"</title><content type='html'>Thank you, Kristen, for making me laugh!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just an update on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;gramps&lt;/span&gt;: He's now been moved to trauma. So that's a step up....or is it? I don't know. He's in good spirits, but he's a wreck. There's no way he can come home anytime soon. He'll probably have to rehab in a nursing home for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take my advice: never go to a funeral for a baby. (It was a baby girl). Just don't do it. No matter how much you think you can handle it. You can't. Trust me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait for this week to be over!! (Friday is Kristen's birthday, so I don't know if I should add that to my "happy" list or "sad" list for the week. The way it's going, I'm hoping it's a happy occasion!!!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-6678633574914290471?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/6678633574914290471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=6678633574914290471' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6678633574914290471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6678633574914290471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2009/05/thats-adult-talk.html' title='&quot;That&apos;s Adult Talk!&quot;'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-1027299841044749579</id><published>2009-05-19T12:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T12:22:37.668-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bitterbot Butterworth</title><content type='html'>So, my grandpa is in ICU. He and my uncle Mark were re-roofing the garage at the lake house on Saturday afternoon. Earlier in the day, Mark fell off the roof. But they both decided to go back up instead of calling it quits -- I would have called it quits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my grandpa fell off the roof. He has a cracked spine, three broken ribs and a bruised lung. They are not feeding him anything, just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;IVs,&lt;/span&gt; because if he gets pneumonia, he's a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;goner&lt;/span&gt;. They can't really do surgery on his spine because of his age, but if he moves wrong he will be paralyzed. So he's pretty much a wreck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bright side? His lady-friend has offered to move in and take care of him if he needs it. My aunt is flabbergasted because she just learned that they've been spending the night at each others' houses. (We already knew that, so we're over the initial shock of old people getting it on!) So I'm glad that he has her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cousin's 8 month old baby passed away on Sunday. She was born with a rare disease that caused the oxygen level in her blood to be too low. Babies born with this disease rarely live to see their first birthday - but it's hard to lose a baby, nevertheless. So that is sad, but she will be resting more comfortably in heaven now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am done with Sunday school indefinitely. I'm glad - I needed a break. But on the last day of classes, I overheard the kids with this conversation: (K1 is a girl and K2 is a boy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K1:  I have three cats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K2: Really? I thought you had four.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K1: No. (pause) I only have three.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K2: No, you have four. *points to his crotch*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K1: Oh, yeah! I guess I do have four cats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me tell you, I almost died!! These kids are only 10!! (If you haven't figured out what they were talking about, I can let you know.....I had to explain it to my mom. When I told Justin, he had no problem figuring out what they were talking about.) I am so glad that I am done with Sunday school for now. Some people's kids!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-1027299841044749579?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/1027299841044749579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=1027299841044749579' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/1027299841044749579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/1027299841044749579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2009/05/bitterbot-butterworth.html' title='Bitterbot Butterworth'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-8907215919234623221</id><published>2009-04-17T15:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T15:15:21.304-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dunder Mifflin</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;One of my newest addictions is watching cooking shows. I don't know why - it could be my intense love of food (and by food, I mean eating). So the other night I was flipping through the channels and came across a show where a lady was making some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Chinese&lt;/span&gt; dish. All of a sudden my mom says, "Did she say Swiss Ass?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Needless to say, I just stared at her. First of all, my mom never says bad words. Secondly, we're talking about food. Who needs "Swiss Ass" in their food?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Turns out the lady said "soy sauce" and my mom misinterpreted it. Very badly!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;We laughed a lot and then in her mom-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt; way she said, "Well, I guess my ears just aren't working right!" I think, "yes."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Tonight we're going to have a big family cook-out. It will be a good time. I'm glad I spent my night last night cleaning the grill and back patio. It's going to be nice weather and good times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;In other news, I got April kicked off of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;someone's&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt; friends list. I feel bad, but the truth is the guy was a douche. Seriously.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Still counting the weeks until Hawaii: 27 to go!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-8907215919234623221?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/8907215919234623221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=8907215919234623221' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/8907215919234623221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/8907215919234623221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2009/04/dunder-mifflin.html' title='Dunder Mifflin'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-8535573196017499557</id><published>2009-03-20T08:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T08:43:33.669-05:00</updated><title type='text'>March Madness</title><content type='html'>I had a post in my head last night and wouldn't you know it, now that I'm sitting down to write it I can't remember a darn thing I was going to write!! Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seven months until Hawaii - I am so excited to go!! Hopefully the time will fly by. Somehow I think it will drag on - especially because I am using all my vacation time for this trip so I won't have any time left to do other things this summer. So we'll see how that goes. But whenever I get bored with going to work every day, I'll just think of where I'll be in October. Ah, I can imagine it now......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched a little bit of The Office last night - I was considering wearing a tux to work today. Just so that I could personify classy. But I didn't. Mostly because I don't have a tux. And I'm not a man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a brilliant stroke of genius the other night and have come up with the present I'm going to give Kristen for her 30&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; birthday. Makes me laugh. Hope it makes her laugh, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And one gripe: (because, let's face it, it's my blog and I should complain at least once or twice on it). What is up with people not eating meat for Lent and then bitching about it the whole time? I thought the purpose was something along the lines of depriving yourself a little bit to appreciate the horrendous torture that Jesus went through on your part. I don't know, going without meat? Being beaten to a bloody pulp and hung on a cross? Yep. Let's complain about the meat. Let's not even shut your trap and be grateful. Let's annoy the crap out of everyone by complaining about all &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; have to do for Lent. Makes sense, doesn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this will make me sound pathetic, but I'm totally going to town tomorrow and buying "Twilight" on DVD. Only because I have to watch it again to make sure it was as funny as I thought it was. And I need to see Edward sparkle. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hahahahaha&lt;/span&gt;. Makes me laugh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, eight more hours and one free lunch and I'm outta here! (I love when people bring us free lunch!!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-8535573196017499557?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/8535573196017499557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=8535573196017499557' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/8535573196017499557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/8535573196017499557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2009/03/march-madness.html' title='March Madness'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-1108338102499282219</id><published>2009-02-13T12:44:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T12:45:35.178-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Facebook</title><content type='html'>Would it be wrong to respond to someone's friend request by saying, "I forgot how ugly you were!" to the girl who thought she was the most popular in high school?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I won't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-1108338102499282219?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/1108338102499282219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=1108338102499282219' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/1108338102499282219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/1108338102499282219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2009/02/facebook.html' title='Facebook'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-4412597009484121243</id><published>2009-02-04T12:07:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T12:11:27.830-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Zip</title><content type='html'>The zipper on my winter coat fell off on Monday. I figured I could fix the darn thing myself. So Monday night I got out the glue and put the two pieces together that broke. It went back together nicely and I was quite proud of myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Unfortunately&lt;/span&gt;, I should have put one end of the zipper mechanism over the actual zipper before gluing it. Now I have a zipping mechanism that won't fit onto the zipper. *shakes fist* I knew I should have taken home &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ec&lt;/span&gt; in high school!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, well. It was a free coat. I never got a charge on my credit or debit card for it. I've had it for three years. I think it's time to upgrade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fish fry Friday night! Woo Hoo! Gotta love Wisconsin and Friday night fish.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-4412597009484121243?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/4412597009484121243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=4412597009484121243' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/4412597009484121243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/4412597009484121243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2009/02/zip.html' title='Zip'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-3810408267700472592</id><published>2009-01-26T12:50:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T12:54:51.262-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Six Weeks</title><content type='html'>Six weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to Honey Nut Cheerios, you can lower your cholesterol in six weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you broke your arm, that's how long you'd need to be in a cast -- six weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some diet programs say you can lose up to twelve pounds in six weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in my life, in six weeks I will be older. Old. Old. Old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And still single. *sigh*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-3810408267700472592?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/3810408267700472592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=3810408267700472592' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/3810408267700472592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/3810408267700472592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2009/01/six-weeks.html' title='Six Weeks'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-4043039061005650744</id><published>2009-01-02T12:33:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T12:45:03.985-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Year Of Turning 30</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So in sixty-six (66) days I will be turning 30. Not that I feel even remotely close to being this old. I feel like I'm still 23 - and will continue to feel this way until further notice. They say you're only as old as you feel...so hello, 23!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I didn't make any New Year's Resolutions, since I don't keep any that I make. Plus, it's still just another day. Just like the day before and just like (hopefully) tomorrow.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But this year is going to be good, regardless of any resolutions. You see, my parents are giving us all a trip to &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Hawaii&lt;/span&gt; this year. How awesome will that be? And it works out really well because I was planning on going to a tropical place for my big birthday. Now I get a free trip there. Not a bad deal.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So other than being overweight, this year is looking pretty good. I like my job and will hopefully still have it for another year. I am liking my living situation and my family. I have a great trip to look forward to (and may go on other trips. Hopefully to the East Coast and back to Palm Springs ... my mom is now on a trip kick, so of course I will oblige her and travel along!!).&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bring on the New Year - the Year of Turning Thirty!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-4043039061005650744?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/4043039061005650744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=4043039061005650744' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/4043039061005650744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/4043039061005650744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2009/01/year-of-turning-30.html' title='The Year Of Turning 30'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-4551210924562358603</id><published>2008-12-23T12:37:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T12:49:18.398-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ghost of Christmas Past</title><content type='html'>Ah, the holidays! Time to get stressed out, realize you don't have enough money, realize you could have enough money if you didn't have to spend it on others, and time to remember all the other Christmases that you've been a part of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While trying to figure out how to swing our family Christmas this year with both of my brothers' girlfriends and their kids, it got me to thinking of the Christmases that I had to spend with my ex-boyfriend's family. And it makes me cringe. These thoughts alone make me glad that I'm not in a relationship. *shudders*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, really, who wouldn't be put off by getting a clearance-rack K-mart holiday wreath (after you spent countless weeks trying to find the perfect gift for the person you drew out of their family pot of names)? And then having the whole room look at you while you open it (all the while knowing you can't put a fake face on to save your life)?! But then on top of that having the grandma say "well, if you're still around next year, maybe you can get a better gift." Nice, grandma........but what goes around comes around. Her house burnt down at the beginning of the year. I didn't shed one single tear. Be mean to me and I can be mean right back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and the lovely memories of getting a present from said ex-boyfriend: a HUGE cross necklace. As if I was going to be doing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;exorcisms&lt;/span&gt;. Ha ha ha! It seriously still makes me laugh. I totally took that sucker back to the store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as you celebrate this holiday season (hopefully with the ones you love) I wish you all &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;joy&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;peace&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;happiness&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Merry&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Christmas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-4551210924562358603?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/4551210924562358603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=4551210924562358603' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/4551210924562358603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/4551210924562358603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/12/ghost-of-christmas-past.html' title='Ghost of Christmas Past'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-5168652069299830592</id><published>2008-11-20T08:15:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T08:20:00.063-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#990000;"&gt;Happy Birthday April!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Today is a day to celebrate the birth and life of one &lt;a href="http://www.lovethedetails.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;April, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Lirpa&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Slirpy&lt;/span&gt; or whatever you want to call her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. It is a great day!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Today, April, I wish you joy and love and fun with friends and family. And most of all, I wish you cake. And maybe a candle or two to blow out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#009900;"&gt;I believe your 30's will be awesome. You will do great things. You will have great adventures. And you will enjoy every moment of it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;Today is YOUR day and I hope you have a great one!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;color:#990000;"&gt;Happy 30&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; Birthday!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-5168652069299830592?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/5168652069299830592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=5168652069299830592' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/5168652069299830592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/5168652069299830592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/11/happy-birthday-april-today-is-day-to.html' title=''/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-6228273690259969260</id><published>2008-11-03T12:19:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T12:22:22.922-06:00</updated><title type='text'>When there's nothing left to burn......</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;TOP 3&lt;/span&gt; Things I Learned This Weekend:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* That's what she said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Kristen is a self-proclaimed "ditz"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* April's face &lt;strong&gt;IS&lt;/strong&gt; everywhere.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-6228273690259969260?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/6228273690259969260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=6228273690259969260' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6228273690259969260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6228273690259969260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/11/when-theres-nothing-left-to-burn.html' title='When there&apos;s nothing left to burn......'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-4984251921284383584</id><published>2008-10-29T12:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T12:15:29.932-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleep Walking</title><content type='html'>Last night when I went to bed, I was wearing black sweat pants, a grey t-shirt and a black zip-up &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hoodie&lt;/span&gt; (fully zipped up). When I woke this morning, I was sans the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hoodie&lt;/span&gt;. How weird that without my knowing it, I unzipped and took off my sweat-shirt in the middle of the night?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That got me to thinking: I must do other weird things in the middle of the night that I'm not aware of. Such as overeating. Right?! 'Cause that would explain a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I was thinking, why can't I sleep-exercise? Then I would get in my exercise, without having to know about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That would definitely be a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the lines of not-so-good things, why are males so dense sometimes? If I tell you I don't like you and then fail to return any of your hundreds of phone calls or text messages, can you not get the hint? Even after I explicitly lay it out in an email? I mean, can you not read the words, "I think we're both very different, and while it was fun for a while, I'm looking for someone better suited for me. I'm sure there's someone out there better suited for you than I am, too." and realize that's a nice way of saying GET LOST! I mean, do I actually have to respond to the email where you say "is there no hope of talking again" with a bold-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;typeface'd&lt;/span&gt; response of NO!! ??? Really? REALLY?? I would get the hint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No wonder dating has no appeal for me &lt;em&gt;at all&lt;/em&gt; at this point in my life. Spinsterhood: here comes your newest member!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-4984251921284383584?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/4984251921284383584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=4984251921284383584' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/4984251921284383584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/4984251921284383584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/10/sleep-walking.html' title='Sleep Walking'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-3353501949091683568</id><published>2008-10-23T08:48:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T08:53:59.742-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog Addictions</title><content type='html'>First of all, I have to say that I'm not exciting enough to have a blog. I've noticed this in the past couple of weeks. Not that I don't like my life - I do! - but I'm just kind of boring. Thank goodness for next weekend......hanging out with April and Kristen for Halloween is sure to have some blogging experiences mixed in with it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But even though I'm boring, there sure are some excellent blogs out there. Especially the new one that April linked on her blog. "My Super Hopeless Romance" is now my favorite blog to read. And now that Seth just broke up with Teresa -- I can't tell you how excited I am for another posting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if only I had attended a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;NKOTB&lt;/span&gt; concert or found my high-school diary to relay how funny I was even way back then, maybe I would be an excellent blogger. But, alas, I have nothing. So it's a good thing that others are excellent &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;bloggers&lt;/span&gt;. I salute you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-3353501949091683568?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/3353501949091683568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=3353501949091683568' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/3353501949091683568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/3353501949091683568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/10/blog-addictions.html' title='Blog Addictions'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-9044290279971953287</id><published>2008-10-10T09:11:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T09:25:07.181-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stop the Hate</title><content type='html'>I am pleading with everyone that I know to stop the hate that is about to plague the American people. I know that this election has many people divided and that they are passionate about the candidate that they are voting for. There is nothing wrong with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But don't tear down a good man and try to incite fear and hate into the hearts and minds of people just to win an election.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you differ on policies with either Barack Obama or John McCain, that is fine. But don't spread the lies and yell, "Kill him! Kill him!" or "Terrorist!" at rallies. That is not productive to bringing our country together. And a man who doesn't see that this is not good for our country is not the man who should be our President.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fear the aftermath of this election season because of the lies and hate being spread. But we have the power to stop it. We can stand up and say stick to the issues and policies, not tearing down a man's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;character&lt;/span&gt;. We can be the ones who bring this country together, the way that America is supposed to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So before you send on an email message spreading hate and fear, stop. Think about it and make sure that you're trying to build America up, not tear it down. Too many people before us have suffered and died to get us to this spot. Didn't Jesus die for everyone? Didn't He come to show us how to love one another?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Attack the policies, not the man behind them. And don't spread false rumors. Thou shalt not bear false witness &lt;em&gt;was&lt;/em&gt; a Ten Commandment, after all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-9044290279971953287?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/9044290279971953287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=9044290279971953287' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/9044290279971953287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/9044290279971953287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/10/stop-hate.html' title='Stop the Hate'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-6858962955751118644</id><published>2008-10-03T08:57:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T09:24:20.565-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Perspective</title><content type='html'>Granted, I'm biased. I'm already voting for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Barack&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Obama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; - barring any catastrophe that may surface, but if it was out there I'm sure Hillary would have brought it up in the primary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sad about the choice John McCain made for Vice President. After last night's debate, I was hoping that Sarah &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Palin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; would give me a different perspective on her experience and ability to be the #2 in our country. Because as much as I support &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Barack&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Obama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, there is a chance that he will not win this election, and I have to live with the alternative. So it's good to know what the alternative would be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want a regular "Joe six-pack" a heartbeat away from running this country. I would not choose to go into my local tavern and pull someone off the bar stool and send them to Washington. We have had "regular Joe" running the country for the last 8 years. I don't think that's worked out so well for America.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John McCain doesn't have much of a change message, except for his "pork barrel spending" message. Other than that, he just attacks &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Barack&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Obama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. People only attack when they don't have substance to stand on. Mud slinging is getting old: and both sides do it. But tell us what you're going to do. That's what we want to know. Not the lies. Everybody can lie. But John McCain doesn't have a message of change because if he wanted to be different from the George Bush administration, he would have run on the Democratic ticket. He took their campaign slogan ('cause it was a good one) but he can't back it up with actual changes from the current administration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end, we're voting for a President, not a Vice President. But this year has shown me that John McCain has very bad judgment. Being a maverick doesn't always play to the advantage of the American people, and his choice of Sarah &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Palin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; as his running mate sure made me question his critical thinking abilities. I want someone who looks at the whole picture before making a decision, not someone who wants short-term gains in the polls while dismissing the devastation that that decision could cost America in the long run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Country first? I think not. "Politics First" is more like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to those who are saying that Joe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Biden&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and Sarah &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Palin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; "tied" in the debate so the win should go to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Palin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, let me make a small point: While they both passed their tests, Sarah &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Palin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; went from Preschool to Kindergarten. Joe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Biden&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; just got into Grad School. They weren't taking the same test, and they are obviously not in the same &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;league&lt;/span&gt;. One bar was set considerably lower than the other. Let's not fool ourselves because we're trying to save face over our over-zealous acceptance of a woman who had nothing going for her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;except&lt;/span&gt; the fact that she's started a trend in fashionable eye-wear. (Yes, that's a bit catty, but it's my blog.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-6858962955751118644?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/6858962955751118644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=6858962955751118644' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6858962955751118644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6858962955751118644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/10/perspective.html' title='Perspective'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-2431004062011476526</id><published>2008-09-30T08:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T08:44:24.332-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ordinary People</title><content type='html'>I've decided that I'm going to stock-pile toilet paper. When our economy crashes and the bank loses all of my hard earned money, I think I can survive just fine -- as long as I have toilet paper. I wouldn't even mind going out-of-doors to do my business, as long as there is toilet paper. Nice, soft, and oh-so-delightful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really liking this season of One Tree Hill. So much better than last year's season. I guess I don't have to write a strongly worded letter to Mark &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Schwan&lt;/span&gt;. Because I would have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And have I mentioned that I'm glad fall is here. I'm wearing a nice, soft, long-sleeved jacket today. And it nicely covers my rolls. What can be better than a season that allows for the covering of imperfections on one's body? Really. What can be better?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had a hacking cough for about two weeks now. I should go to the doctor, but I keep thinking it will go away. I'm just hoping it's not going to lead to pneumonia. That wouldn't be good. I'm sure it's just some light bronchitis. And I don't think there's medicine to cure that, is there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in other news: I'm addicted to mob wars on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt;. Mostly because I like the money and buying stuff. I don't fight 'cause I know I would lose, but I do punch people in the face a lot. If they attack me, they promptly get a punch in the face. So be warned: don't attack me or I'll punch you in the face!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-2431004062011476526?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/2431004062011476526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=2431004062011476526' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/2431004062011476526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/2431004062011476526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/09/ordinary-people.html' title='Ordinary People'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-4610330845063834351</id><published>2008-09-24T15:33:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T15:39:31.015-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Letter to the Editor</title><content type='html'>In my frustration about the economy, I decided to write a letter to my Senators and Representatives. If you are frustrated about something, I encourage you to do the same to your elected officials. It really made me feel better, even if it may never reach the intended audience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the letter that I wrote: (you may agree or not, but since it's my blog I get to say what I want!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;As a taxpayer and voter, it infuriates and disgusts me that the Government is considering a bailout for Wall Street. While average Americans have been losing their homes, their jobs and trying to budget for rising energy and food costs, Wall Street executives have been getting rich using unethical business practices. And now, instead of helping the vast majority of Americans, the executives are going to be bailed out while the average American is going to foot the bill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t understand why this makes sense to any of you in Washington. It should disgust and infuriate you as well. Especially since the Treasury Secretary, Henry &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Paulson&lt;/span&gt;, wants what is essentially a blank check, funded from the empty pockets of the poor and struggling middle class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When a small business makes bad business decisions and is going out of business, does the Federal Government step in and bail them out? No! So why should the government step in and fix this problem? The government’s role should be focusing on fixing banking and business regulations, not throwing money at the problem so that executives of these companies and banks can sail off in their yachts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;strong&gt;worst&lt;/strong&gt; thing the Government can do for the American people at this time is to bail out big business while main street Americans foot the bill. The &lt;strong&gt;best&lt;/strong&gt; thing the Government can do is let the economy fall. How else will corporate America, the banking industry and Wall Street ever learn their lesson by being bailed out?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides deregulation, there are other forces causing an economic downfall in this country, the War in Iraq being one of them. Economics 101 teaches that the weakest economy is a war time economy. The sad thing is that the money we spend in Iraq is not spent on our troops, it’s spent on big business (once again) through “government contracts” for rebuilding. That’s bullshit! And no one has stood up to fight that, either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have been force fed the idea that Terrorism is something that we have to go and fight, but I believe that by ruining our economy, Terrorists have won the fight that they wanted to start. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Osama&lt;/span&gt; Bin Laden &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t attack the Twin Towers because they were an easy target. He targeted them for what they stood for: the strength of America, which has been our strong economy. Since that attack, President Bush has been playing into the hands of Terrorists by starting a war (over oil, by the way – don’t think that the American people are ignorant. We know why we went to “war”) that will never be won. Bin Laden counted on greed to destroy America, and he is about to succeed in his mission.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the government does not understand is that without industry and agriculture, there is no foundation for our economy. Granted, there is the global economy, but the global economy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;doesn&lt;/span&gt;’t help the average American. We need industry and agriculture because Americans need jobs. Those jobs create income, which the average American spends IN AMERICA. That spending then circulates: taxes, more jobs, more income, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spend our money on us. Americans. Help the majority of the population, not the richest minority. There is no such thing as the trickle-down effect. That is a fairy tale created by the rich so that they can have all the wealth.  Help America flourish again. Help America be viable and strong. Help average Americans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a few questions for you, as well: Do you live on less than $50,000 a year? Do you have high insurance premiums and deductibles, while having less than adequate coverage when you need it? Have you lost your job in industry or agriculture in the last five years?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No? Then you need to get in touch with the people who vote you into office. You need to be on the same page as those voters. If you look at how they live, then you will see that you are screwing them over by voting for any legislation or bailout package that foots them with the bill of covering Wall Street executives and their bad decisions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please consider voting in the best interest of your constituents this time. Even if that means voting against a bailout package. Take a stand. Be a better person. Be a better American.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don’t put an end to this, there may not be an America left for you to fight for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-4610330845063834351?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/4610330845063834351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=4610330845063834351' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/4610330845063834351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/4610330845063834351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/09/letter-to-editor.html' title='Letter to the Editor'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-6611664284840867148</id><published>2008-09-24T11:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T11:46:52.605-05:00</updated><title type='text'>She doesn't speak for me</title><content type='html'>I'm pretty sure Jesus came to teach us how to love one another. I don't recall him forcing his views down &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;anyone's&lt;/span&gt; throat. He taught by the way he lived. Why can't we get that lesson through our heads?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leave the judging to God. Remember the harlot at the well? Why didn't they stone her, even though they thought they had every right to? It wasn't because Jesus was writing their sins in the sand, was it? Oh, wait, yes. Yes, it was. We are all sinners, so how does it stand to reason that sinners can pass judgment on other sinners? Why can't we just feed the hungry, clothe the naked and love the lonely? I'm pretty sure if we put our efforts to that, the world would be a better place and God would take care of the rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if you've seen it, but there's a Wisconsin Lottery commercial for the game Badger 5. It has a stuffed Badger dancing. Like an actual dead, but stuffed, Badger. I know it's wrong, but I can't stop watching that commercial. I really like when it's on. It's ....... well, I can't explain my fascination. There's just something about it when the song says, "Get your hands up..." and the paws are trying to raise the roof. I tried to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Youtube&lt;/span&gt; it, but I can't find it. So I can't share it with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, Fashion Bug is doing a pant revolution. I bought some new pants there and I LOVE THEM! They are cut differently to fit different body types. I have no waist, so the pants I want are just straight from waist to hip, no curves - 'cause all I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;gots&lt;/span&gt; is fat there. If you are more curvy, they cut them differently. I highly suggest checking these pants out....they have jeans, dress pants and in many different styles. I give it a thumbs up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-6611664284840867148?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/6611664284840867148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=6611664284840867148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6611664284840867148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6611664284840867148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/09/she-doesnt-speak-for-me.html' title='She doesn&apos;t speak for me'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-240347231785569279</id><published>2008-09-12T16:02:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T16:12:04.876-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I want to be like Mike</title><content type='html'>Well, I don't want to be like Mike.....I don't even know who Mike is. Who I'd actually like to be like is TOWR. Yes, that's right. I am envious of her commitment to getting back to good health. I read her blog and think "you know, I could do that." But do I? Oh, no no no. That would require me to do something. Like giving up chocolate or exercising. *sigh* So I just keep telling myself that someday I will want to exercise and eat right. And in the mean time, I will just read TOWR's blog and be jealous. (And proud of her, of course.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other developing news, I may or may not be making out this weekend. It has yet to be decided.......if said make-out participant ticks me off, there will be none. If I feel like being frisky, then there may be some kissing coming my way. It all depends. (Is it wrong that I like the fact that I have the power here???)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also may or may not be shopping this weekend. A cousin of mine had a baby two weeks ago and the baby has been in ICU since birth because she wasn't getting enough oxygen. There has been a lot of improvement over the last two weeks (thanks mostly to a lot of prayer). Mom and I may go visit them. Hopefully the baby will not suffer brain damage as a result of this disorder. And hopefully the doctors can fix her. How awful!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nathaniel borrowed my other car this week (how crazy is it that I'm a two car owner? Too bad they're not two &lt;em&gt;good&lt;/em&gt; cars). It will be interesting to see if he brings it back to me. I told him that if he drank and then drove it, and then got in an accident I'd report it stolen. I figure he can rot in jail along with his stupidity. Plus, he stole my new flosser that I got at the dentist the other day. The terms of our agreement stated that he had to bring me back my flosser. He hasn't. Maybe I should dial 9-1-1??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, no more tractor pulling. But thank goodness it's FOOTBALL time again. And thank goodness Brett Favre is no longer a Packer. My life is now a little sweeter!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-240347231785569279?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/240347231785569279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=240347231785569279' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/240347231785569279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/240347231785569279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-want-to-be-like-mike.html' title='I want to be like Mike'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-4099394763491767410</id><published>2008-09-11T08:52:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T08:58:04.023-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Remembrance</title><content type='html'>I can't believe it's been 7 years since the 9/11 attack on our country. I still remember where I was and what I was doing. Luckily, I had made a surprise trip home and was with my family. I don't know what I would have done otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, take a moment and pray for the families who were affected by the tragedy. And then remember all the service men and women who signed up to defend our nation and lost their lives because of it. Let us never forget them or their sacrifice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And let us never forget those who are still fighting. They have the purest intentions and are sacrificing themselves for what they believe is the greater good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-4099394763491767410?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/4099394763491767410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=4099394763491767410' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/4099394763491767410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/4099394763491767410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/09/remembrance.html' title='Remembrance'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-2563176159407026889</id><published>2008-09-04T12:00:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T12:02:08.418-05:00</updated><title type='text'>For your information....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080904/ap_on_el_pr/cvn_fact_check"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080904/ap_on_el_pr/cvn_fact_check&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-2563176159407026889?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/2563176159407026889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=2563176159407026889' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/2563176159407026889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/2563176159407026889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/09/for-your-information.html' title='For your information....'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-1370917398960415045</id><published>2008-09-03T09:48:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T10:01:46.194-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Times, Great Oldies</title><content type='html'>One more weekend of tractor pulling, and then I can finally get my weekends back. I have only been at home for 2 weekends since the middle of May. I am so ready for my life to go back to boring. I was telling my mom the other day how I remember the days when I had nothing to do, and I kind of miss that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it wouldn't be so bad, but lately during the week I have had so many things to go to and do, I don't even get to relax during the week. Parties, drinking, boys. You'd think I was back in college.......or not. And by parties, I mean Pampered Chef, Creative Memories, etc. And by drinking I mean soda while others are whooping it up with Bud Light, even though I was at a bar. And by boys I mean an idiot, whom I am going to stop seeing. Seriously. It's fun to make out, but I can only take so much &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;idiocraty&lt;/span&gt;. (shut it - it's a word)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so glad that fall is coming. I like long sleeves and pants. And sweatshirts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh! And I finally got a tan line this summer. On Saturday we were in the middle of nowhere and sitting in the sun...no clouds, no shade. I slathered up with sun block on my arms, face, neck, etc., but forgot to put some on my feet, so I have a nice line where my sandals were. It makes me smile - only 'cause I'm not totally white now. My mom and I couldn't take the heat, so after an hour and a half, we found the only shade and got our chairs out of the car and sat in the shade the rest of the day. I'm sure people were jealous, but I would have beat them down had they tried to take the shade. Don't mess with a fat girl who's hot and sweaty. It ain't pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND! I know you don't care, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;OTH&lt;/span&gt; was all new on Monday and I'm SO &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;FREAKIN&lt;/span&gt;' GLAD that Lucas chose Peyton (even though I know they won't actually get married, something will happen, blah, blah, blah) but it made me cry because I was so happy. If they hadn't, I was going to write a strongly worded letter to Mark &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Schwan&lt;/span&gt;. They should be together. *sigh* I prefer TV drama than real-life drama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I baby-sat Kayla on Friday. I was so exhausted at the end of the day, but she still wanted to play house. So I layed down on the couch and said, "Let's pretend that I'm your sister and I'm in a coma!" She didn't like that idea, she wanted me to play the baby-sitter for her doll. So I laid down on the couch with the baby and said, "Let's pretend that I'm the babysitter and I got in a car accident and now I'm in a coma!" She didn't like that either. She yelled, "Krista! You can't pretend you're in a COMA!" So much for that.............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she wanted to put on a parade for me and my mom. I said I'd only go to the parade if there was candy. So she raided our candy drawer and I got some mini-butterfingers, snickers and baby ruths. It was a good parade, if you ask me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-1370917398960415045?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/1370917398960415045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=1370917398960415045' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/1370917398960415045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/1370917398960415045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/09/good-times-great-oldies.html' title='Good Times, Great Oldies'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-6375612340210737483</id><published>2008-08-26T12:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T12:33:22.139-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Give me some of your tots!</title><content type='html'>Oh, how my body is revolting from my BSB weekend! I am so tired today that not even an IV full of Mt. Dew would wake me. I thought I'd be tired yesterday, but today is so much worse. All I want is my nice bed and fluffy pillows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a couple of letters I'd like to share (but they will lack the hilarity and flair of April and Kristen letters):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear guy-that-I'm-not-really-dating-but-you-won't-go-away-because-you-can't-take-a-hint,&lt;br /&gt;Don't answer the phone "Hey, sexy" because it will make me vomit.&lt;br /&gt;All my loathing,&lt;br /&gt;Krista&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Customer Service Rep from India,&lt;br /&gt;Don't call and tell me your name is Austin. I know that it's actually Habib or some other name that sounds like someone coughing and/or spitting.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks,&lt;br /&gt;Krista&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit that against my better judgment, I totally screamed like a 13 year old girl at the Backstreet Boys concert. I have no logic behind my actions and take full responsibility for it. April had posted on MySpace a few weeks ago that she needed to stock up on Excedrine because her sister was going to be screaming during the whole concert....unfortunately for April, I was the one screaming right next to her. Who knew I had that set of lungs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am officially depressed......no more concert and April-filled-weekend to look forward to. I should be ecstatic because One Tree Hill, Season 5 comes out today, but I'm too cheap to go buy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing I've gotten excited about in the past 48 hours was when I realized One Tree Hill's season premier is next Monday. I actually jumped up and down and clapped my hands when I realized it. And then I continued to be depressed when there was no one around to share my joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmph.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-6375612340210737483?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/6375612340210737483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=6375612340210737483' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6375612340210737483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6375612340210737483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/08/give-me-some-of-your-tots.html' title='Give me some of your tots!'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-8563655267623769483</id><published>2008-08-13T10:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T10:12:44.901-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In Love And War</title><content type='html'>So my mp3 player puked out on me. We had a fabulous relationship - it worked and I didn't smash it to pieces. So much for my only functional love affair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have an iPod. Not so much a love affair or fabulous relationship. Mostly because I'm a simple cut-and-paste girl. Not a rip and burn and then convert and make a playlist kind of girl. Is it so wrong to wish that tapes were coming back in fashion? I could work those. This new-fangled technology hurts my brain. And I'm sure it's wonderful if I had the time to actually sit and program the darn thing, but I have too short of an attention span.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I did add three new songs to my music library, to add to all the other songs I like. "Broken" by Lifehouse, "No Air" by Jordin Sparks and Chris Brown and "What Life Would Be Like" by Big Daddy Weave. A little bit of everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I'm sure everyone else is, I can't stop watching the Olympics. But I justify it because it only happens once every four years and only lasts for a couple weeks. So what if I don't sleep??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-8563655267623769483?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/8563655267623769483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=8563655267623769483' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/8563655267623769483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/8563655267623769483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/08/in-love-and-war.html' title='In Love And War'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-7336401920466882924</id><published>2008-08-11T11:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T11:43:17.674-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"I'm always going to be that girl who is never enough."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read this on postsecret this morning....and the sad thing is that sometimes I feel that this is true. About me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-7336401920466882924?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/7336401920466882924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=7336401920466882924' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/7336401920466882924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/7336401920466882924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/08/im-always-going-to-be-that-girl-who-is.html' title=''/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-6342221940579645199</id><published>2008-07-03T12:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T12:42:36.989-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Matters of the Heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So I went on a date last night. I'm very proud of myself. I never thought I'd get to a point where I'd want to put myself out there again for rejection. (Too bad for the guy, though, because I'm not interested at all.) Any man who doesn't see the humor of Dumb and Dumber or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Zoolander&lt;/span&gt;, but thinks Road Trip (the unrated version) is the best comedy, is not my type. Depressing men are not my type, either. I would have offered to dig the hole for him to crawl into, but I was trying to be on my best behavior.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;But I'm so glad that I went out with him!!! Seriously, it made me feel normal again after my heartache over you-know-who. I'm glad that I know myself now and I know what I'm looking for. Because, really, I don't know the physical appearance of the man I'm going to be with, but I do know the kind of heart that I'm looking for. And when I find that, the rest will all fall into place. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;It's hard to describe my feelings of elation right now, I guess you'd have to be me to understand it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;But I did get an adaptor for my mp3 player for my car out of the whole deal (because I said we should meet at Super &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart...........nothing too bad can happen at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart, can it?). And I got a free Mexican dinner, too. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Mmmmm&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I'm excited about this weekend.......my sister is coming down (alone) and we have a Tractor Pull on Saturday so it should be fun. And the weather looks spectacular. So I hope you all have a great 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of July weekend!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-6342221940579645199?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/6342221940579645199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=6342221940579645199' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6342221940579645199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6342221940579645199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/07/matters-of-heart.html' title='Matters of the Heart'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-1695834040514942571</id><published>2008-05-29T09:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T09:06:35.361-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lookin' For Love In All The Wrong Places</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Some news, from the crazy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;blond&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;*Kayla was 9 (NINE!!!) on Tuesday. Do you realize how old that makes me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;*I got a perm on Tuesday. I suddenly have more hair than I ever thought possible. It's like I'm walking around with a crazy raccoon on my head.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;*I think I ran over a rubber yellow chicken on my way to work this morning. If that's true, how funny would that be?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;*I'm looking into getting wireless &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt; at home. I may have to cancel my Curves membership to do so, but don't you think it's a better trade-off?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Other than the above, my life is fine. Although, I did tell Nathaniel that we took a family vote and decided that Missy can never come over again (since he's brought her over so many times and she really sucks the life out of our family gatherings and is mean to Kayla). We haven't seen him since. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Geez&lt;/span&gt;, can't a guy take a joke (even though I really meant it!).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I'm starting to think about relationships again. I think that's a good sign. Hopefully I'll be back to normal sometime in the next year..........and hopefully there will be a nice, wholesome, normal guy out there to make all my suffering and doubts be put to rest. Oh, if only I were so lucky!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-1695834040514942571?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/1695834040514942571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=1695834040514942571' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/1695834040514942571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/1695834040514942571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/05/lookin-for-love-in-all-wrong-places.html' title='Lookin&apos; For Love In All The Wrong Places'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-6255200940044224133</id><published>2008-05-14T16:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T16:10:00.218-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What? What did you say??</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I was watching the news last night. There was a story about a frat house that burned down in the middle of the night. The news anchor, talking about that story, said "...more information on the investigation and the b-cup that saved the day."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;B-cup? Like a bra??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I sat there and just mulled it over in my head -- I couldn't imagine how a bra's b-cup could save the day. So I waited for the explanation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Turns out, he must have said "beat cop" (a/k/a police officer on foot....which is the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;terminology&lt;/span&gt; he used during his coverage.) I started laughing and turned to my mom and said, "I totally thought he said "B-cup" but he must have said "beat cop!!" She just looked at me, but then my dad started laughing and said, "I thought he said b-cup, too. But I wasn't going to say anything!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Thinking about it makes me laugh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-6255200940044224133?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/6255200940044224133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=6255200940044224133' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6255200940044224133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6255200940044224133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/05/what-what-did-you-say.html' title='What? What did you say??'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-9170370755212266927</id><published>2008-05-13T14:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T14:08:14.061-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts from the month of May...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Honestly, I don't have anything to really blog about. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;For Mother's Day, I was going to get my mom a new necklace since the chain on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hers&lt;/span&gt; broke last week. So I went to the store, found one that I knew she'd like and went to check out. (We were shopping together, so it was a little tricky, but I managed to be somewhat stealth about it.) Anyway, the girl scanned it and I about crapped my pants -- the total was $150.00 AND she hadn't even scanned my other items. I seriously looked all around, wondering if she had forgot to clear someone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;else's&lt;/span&gt; order out before she started ringing me up. I was totally shocked. I could have swore that the price at the jewelry counter was $38.00. So I totally didn't get the necklace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;But I did get her the movie, "P.S. I love you" and we watched it Saturday night. I don't know what it was, but we cried our eyes out, laughed, and then cried some more. I haven't heard of anyone crying over this movie, so I wasn't expecting that. But it was a good bonding experience.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Other than that, I've just been doing some spring cleaning and painting outside (fence, porches, etc.) and mowing the lawn. My dad and I put up a porch swing Friday night. It's really nice and peaceful -- I'll be glad to just sit there and relax this summer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Too bad I'm content with my life -- I don't have anything interesting or funny to say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-9170370755212266927?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/9170370755212266927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=9170370755212266927' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/9170370755212266927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/9170370755212266927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/05/thoughts-from-month-of-may.html' title='Thoughts from the month of May...'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-7863963771659197432</id><published>2008-05-08T09:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T09:31:47.099-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Some day someone's going to call me 'Sir,' without adding 'you're making a scene!'" ~Homer Simpson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Good old Homer is our new security system at home. My brothers bought a Homer Simpson Santa a few years ago. If you walk past it, it goes off and he either says something or sings something. A few months ago, they moved it so that it goes off every time someone comes in the door. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It's actually a good little alarm system.  Of course, the other day I came home and stopped dead in my tracks because as I was going to open the door I thought I heard voices inside and I knew no one else was home. Thankfully, it was just Homer singing his version of "deck the halls"! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;It is my one year anniversary at my job. My boss gave me flowers. It was very thoughtful. To celebrate, I'm going to get my yearly checkup -- with my no-deductible insurance. Woo-Hoo! I haven't used my insurance yet, and I've had it for a year. So I'm excited about that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Other than that, no exciting news. The Diezel Deere is up and running. Pretty soon it will be pulling season. Can't wait!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-7863963771659197432?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/7863963771659197432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=7863963771659197432' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/7863963771659197432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/7863963771659197432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/05/some-day-someones-going-to-call-me-sir.html' title=''/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-8271195056970230913</id><published>2008-04-17T12:10:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T12:25:02.190-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Call My Name</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Some things I really, really like:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;*Hearing a new song on the radio and instantly falling in love with it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;*The fact that the grass is becoming green again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;*Loving myself, even though I'm fat. Because I'm more than just that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I had a really weird dream last night. I was on a big ship and it was Russian. And as soon as I realized this, I must have changed my dream because then I instantly started dreaming about April. And April was on this Russian ship, only she was a prisoner. She had been committed for murder and she had served ten years, but this was the day she was going to be released. (Don't worry, she didn't do it........she was framed!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;When she finally got let go she could make one phone call. But before that she got a container of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ritz&lt;/span&gt; mini cheese filled cracker sandwiches. As she was snacking, she got on the phone but couldn't understand anything &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; it was all in Russian. So she asked the big, intimidating woman officer to talk for her. Apparently she and the officer became friends or something because April bossed her around and the lady talked on the phone for her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Then when she left the boat and got on the dock, a guy I knew from high school (Derek) was there and said to April, "you have to find out if the body was burned." And then he said something about blue plastic and left. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;When I woke up I remember that in the dream they were looking for this blue plastic because clear plastic had been used as evidence to convict April. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So weird. And Russian. *shakes head* &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-8271195056970230913?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/8271195056970230913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=8271195056970230913' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/8271195056970230913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/8271195056970230913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/04/just-call-my-name.html' title='Just Call My Name'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-7432369299458782992</id><published>2008-04-03T12:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T12:38:42.841-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Take That, Rubik!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Because of the hype of my little pregnancy news, I forgot to tell you all about a great accomplishment of mine. Over the weekend, I solved Kayla's Rubik's cube. So, take that, Sir Rubik! HA! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;It was frustrating and I'm very surprised that I finished it. I actually finished it Monday morning before going to work. It's a good thing I did or else I would have been preoccupied with it all day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Kayla will probably mess it up again, but I'm ready for the challenge of solving it again. (or maybe I'll just buy a new one and tell them not to mess with it!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-7432369299458782992?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/7432369299458782992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=7432369299458782992' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/7432369299458782992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/7432369299458782992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/04/take-that-rubik.html' title='Take That, Rubik!'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-3522600560417433504</id><published>2008-04-02T08:08:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T08:10:16.263-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#990000;"&gt;I'm Pregnant!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so excited! I have (secretly) wanted a baby for so long now! And even though I'm not currently with anyone, I still really want this baby. It will be hard to raise a child alone, but I have great parents to help me and I know my friends will be supportive, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so shocked when I found out yesterday, but I'm not surprised. Does that make sense? And I know it's probably not proper etiquette to break the news over my blog, but I couldn't wait to tell everyone. I'll be making phone calls to you all tonight. But so you don't go crazy, I'll give you a little bit of the story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago (5), I wasn't feeling very good. I had flu-like symptoms and I felt my sinuses plotting a revolt in my head. I felt horrible. But a girl I work with was having a birthday party after work at one of the local establishments. I had been putting off going out with her for months, but I thought I should suck it up and go to her party. I figured that being sick would make a good get-away story. So after work I drove downtown to Legends (I think April and Kristen have been there before.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my surprise, a lot of people I knew from work and around town were there. So it was more fun than I anticipated. I didn't have much to drink, one Sky Blue (yum), and I was about ready to leave when this guy bumped into me. I didn't think much of it and was going to keep walking away but he started talking to me. He wasn't hot or anything. But he wasn't ugly, either. He was really funny. Turns out his name is Ben (and after watching so much Felicity lately, I thought that was appropriate!!). We talked for a good hour or so and then I gave him my cell phone number. I figured he wouldn't call, so I didn't think anything of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But he called me the next day and we talked for about three hours. And the time just flew by! He asked me out for that night, Saturday. And I (of course) said "yes". He gave me directions to his house in the town where I work, I figured I could find it easily, and he said he'd cook dinner and we'd rent a movie. Sounded good to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a great night. One thing led to another (and by another, I mean making out). And the making out led to, well, you know. (In my defense, it's been &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sooooo&lt;/span&gt; long. I couldn't help myself.) Unfortunately, I wasn't on anything. Mainly because I wasn't expecting anything like this to happen to me right now. I didn't figure I'd be with a man for another billion years!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was really happy with how we left things that night. He was going to call me the next day and we were going to get together. Well, he never called. And he hasn't called for the past five weeks. I wasn't really surprised, but I was a little hurt. I felt so stupid about it, I haven't told anyone. I can't believe I put myself in that position again and trusted someone. Especially someone I didn't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then, two weeks ago, I was throwing up and not feeling well. It passed and I chalked it up to the flu. But then over the weekend it started happening again, so I called my doctor and set up an appointment for a checkup last night after work. I figured it would be just the flu, anyway. And since I haven't had my yearly physical yet, I decided to have everything checked to save another trip to the doctor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear I almost fell off that little table they sit you on. I'm sure you probably almost fell off your chair reading this. Good thing it's only an April Fool's joke. HA! Like I'd really announce being pregnant on my blog.......or like I'd have an encounter like that and not say anything!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, though, nothing new here. But no news is good news, I figure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-3522600560417433504?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/3522600560417433504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=3522600560417433504' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/3522600560417433504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/3522600560417433504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/04/im-pregnant-im-so-excited-i-have.html' title=''/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-1708324317494234564</id><published>2008-03-25T10:15:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T10:17:22.493-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ah! Those were the days!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_lbCn6oBYRVg/R-kXblW6haI/AAAAAAAAAAU/JW6AjhUsxJk/s1600-h/Johnny+Depp+2+016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181698608918594978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_lbCn6oBYRVg/R-kXblW6haI/AAAAAAAAAAU/JW6AjhUsxJk/s320/Johnny+Depp+2+016.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-1708324317494234564?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/1708324317494234564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=1708324317494234564' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/1708324317494234564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/1708324317494234564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/03/ah-those-were-days.html' title='Ah! Those were the days!'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_lbCn6oBYRVg/R-kXblW6haI/AAAAAAAAAAU/JW6AjhUsxJk/s72-c/Johnny+Depp+2+016.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-2735215763408502381</id><published>2008-03-20T14:35:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T14:38:46.995-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Need I Say More?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_lbCn6oBYRVg/R-K9FFW6hZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCElJXBNPGM/s1600-h/Depp+028.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179910416464774546" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_lbCn6oBYRVg/R-K9FFW6hZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCElJXBNPGM/s320/Depp+028.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-2735215763408502381?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/2735215763408502381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=2735215763408502381' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/2735215763408502381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/2735215763408502381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/03/need-i-say-more.html' title='Need I Say More?'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_lbCn6oBYRVg/R-K9FFW6hZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uCElJXBNPGM/s72-c/Depp+028.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-4895974370301452599</id><published>2008-03-12T12:29:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T12:36:13.276-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reckless Abandon Wrapped in Common Sense</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My co-worker had her baby last night. Everyone thought it was going to be a boy, but I decided it was going to be a girl...............it was a girl. She named her Olivea Suzanne. I'm so excited to see her!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I got my picture taken yesterday and sent to the movie studio to see if I could be an extra (along with everyone else). I doubt that I will, but it would be fun if they picked me. As I've said numerous times, they don't have my size in Hollywood. But there's no harm in trying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I don't have very much information at this time about Johnny or his appearance here. Nothing I've not already said. But it will be a chaotic day, nonetheless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I went to a Casting Crowns concert last Friday for my birthday. It was awesome. I'm glad I didn't get sick. I've been feeling headachy lately, though. I just don't want to get sick for next week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Oh! And I bought myself a new 32" flat screen LCD HDTV with a built in DVD player. I love it. I'm so glad I spent my money on me. Granted, I just spent my whole next paycheck that I haven't gotten yet, but it was still a fun purchase.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Maybe, when I become exciting, I'll write more, but I kind of have to go throw up. Or poop. Whatever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-4895974370301452599?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/4895974370301452599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=4895974370301452599' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/4895974370301452599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/4895974370301452599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/03/reckless-abandon-wrapped-in-common.html' title='Reckless Abandon Wrapped in Common Sense'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-3172161699786654478</id><published>2008-02-20T08:09:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T08:12:53.152-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Note to self:</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;People watch too much Oprah. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I don't mind winter, or snow. But could it please just stop being blow zero and icy? Please?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I had a dream last night that I was back in college. I was at the bookstore (which was my present day grocery store) and was checking a lottery ticket. I won $2,000. It was great. So then I walked back to Crownhart to share my good fortune with my friends. We were all moving into the dorms again. It must have been the start of the year. I don't know which I was more excited about: the money I won or being back at college.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Ah! Good times!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-3172161699786654478?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/3172161699786654478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=3172161699786654478' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/3172161699786654478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/3172161699786654478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/02/note-to-self.html' title='Note to self:'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-8581032197065793288</id><published>2008-02-14T12:06:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T12:19:11.831-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"&gt;Well, well, well. Another Valentine's day with no Valentine. Not surprising. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Although, I really shouldn't complain. My Valentine's gift from my mom was a new notebook computer. It not only burns CDs but it burns DVDs as well. I'll have to look into wireless internet now. Or just drive around town to find someone else's! So that's not so bad of a Valentine's day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;She got my sister an iPod. I wanted one of those, but a computer (for the moment) seems to be the better gift. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;April had mentioned on her blog about giving up stuff for Lent. I have done the opposite. I am going to exercise every day for Lent. I have been doing well so far. And it's not anything extreme. Maybe 15 minutes a day, but that's better than nothing. And whenever I feel like not doing it, I think of the sacrifice that Jesus made for me -- in that capacity, 15 minutes doesn't really seem that bad (or that adequate, either!!) But it's something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;My grandpa rolled his new truck on Monday. He seems o.k., but he didn't go to the doctor. I hope he doesn't have internal injuries. You never know. But he's too stubborn to go to the doctor. He's coming for supper tonight, so maybe mom can talk some sense into him!!! His truck is pretty much totaled...it will cost $17,000 to fix and he's only had it for a couple months. Sheesh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Other than that, I just keep having weird dreams. I wonder why??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-8581032197065793288?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/8581032197065793288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=8581032197065793288' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/8581032197065793288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/8581032197065793288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/02/happy-valentines-day-well-well-well.html' title=''/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-6916607683790440900</id><published>2008-02-12T12:16:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-13T10:35:33.893-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Do I really need to title these darn things??</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So I had a dream last night that I was in the Cities and decided to spy on Kristen and her Lawyer Boy when they met. In my dream he was taking her to a Little League game. Why? Don't know, but that's where I ended up. She was really cute and nervous, but she spotted me nonetheless. So much for my stealthness! Her whole family was there, Kate, Kelly and April, too. It was a great-big get together. I never ended up seeing Lawyer Boy because I ended up in Texas at a grocery store buying donuts, cookies and muffins. I don't know how I got from the Cities to Texas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, besides the massive amounts of snow we've been getting, I don't have anything really going on here. I did watch Season 1 of Felicity. I did not like her AT ALL in the first 3/4 of the season. At the end I sort of liked her. I've only watched 4 episodes of Season 2, but I like her much better. (And I LOVE her hair.) We'll see how the rest of the Season goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as Johnny Depp, I have nothing further to report. However, April did send me a list of neat-o ways to get his attention, and I'd like to share them. (And I only used "neat-o" because it was fun to use it in a sentance with April.) Unfortunately, I just realized I deleted that email. Dang it! But one of my favorites was to hold up a sign saying, "You can 21 jump my street." I think April will remember some of them and she can share them in the Comments sections (do it!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I was thinking of holding up a sign (if I get to get a picture with him) that says, "And for the lady....." Because it would make Klo and April laugh. And they can add it to their collections.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that's it for now! Don't forget to vote next week (in Wisconsin)!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-6916607683790440900?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/6916607683790440900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=6916607683790440900' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6916607683790440900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6916607683790440900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/02/do-i-really-need-to-title-these-darn.html' title='Do I really need to title these darn things??'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-42828682684473116</id><published>2008-01-17T12:37:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T12:43:58.787-06:00</updated><title type='text'>We all fall down sometimes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;If I need to say that I've not been so good lately, is it really gramatically correct to say "I've been doing poorly lately" or is it "I've been poor lately"?? Because the latter makes me think I'm just broke. And sometimes I couldn't give a flying f*@^ about being gramatically correct.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;All I have to say is that I'm glad I'm single and I'm staying that way. Because the idea of the perfect man for me is much better than the defective, jack-wad, piece of shite that I'd really end up with. Like some people do. And I feel bad for those people. Really bad. (Or is it badly?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;*sigh*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;My main obsession for the last week? Peanut Butter M&amp;amp;M's. Genius. Pure Genius.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-42828682684473116?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/42828682684473116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=42828682684473116' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/42828682684473116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/42828682684473116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/01/we-all-fall-down-sometimes.html' title='We all fall down sometimes'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-1411930427451845951</id><published>2008-01-02T12:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T12:59:35.263-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Take as much as you can and give nothing back</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Resolutions? Let's see........last year I resolved to save a lot of money, get a new job and move out. I did get a new job. But I didn't save much money or move out. So maybe this year I will save a lot of money and then next year (the year of my 30's) move out. That is my plan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;That and no dating.....but I'm pretty sure that the no dating thing won't be hard. But what a great slogan: "No dates in 2008!" Sign me up for a bumper sticker!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I can't belive a whole year has gone. I feel the same as I did last year. And I think I weigh the same (if not more). But there were some great things in 2007:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;* John Mayer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;* Discovering "Veronica Mars" (thank you, April)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;* My Library card&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;* OTH (of course!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;* All the books I've read&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;* My new job&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;* The new cell tower next to my house&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I would go on, but why grasp at straws? I like my life - boring as it may seem. And I'm glad another year is here. I wonder what I'll be blogging about next January???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-1411930427451845951?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/1411930427451845951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=1411930427451845951' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/1411930427451845951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/1411930427451845951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2008/01/take-as-much-as-you-can-and-give.html' title='Take as much as you can and give nothing back'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-3734244382481693097</id><published>2007-12-21T14:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-21T14:53:31.538-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#006600;"&gt;Merry Christmas to all!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#990000;"&gt;And to all a Good Night!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;I &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;wish&lt;/span&gt; everyone &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;a&lt;/span&gt; safe &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; healthy &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;New&lt;/span&gt; Year, &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;too&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#990000;"&gt;See ya next year!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-3734244382481693097?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/3734244382481693097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=3734244382481693097' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/3734244382481693097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/3734244382481693097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/12/merry-christmas-to-all-and-to-all-good.html' title=''/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-163880489728609103</id><published>2007-12-17T12:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-17T12:33:44.011-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ouch!</title><content type='html'>So I successfully massacred my fingers this morning by smashing them between my desk and my chair. How it happened, I still can't figure out. But it did and boy do they hurt! There was actual bleeding. Sometimes, I'm so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;blond&lt;/span&gt; I can't even believe it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only have to work 7 more days this year. Thank goodness! This no vacation crap is for the birds! May is still a long way off, but it's closer than it was. Please, oh please, hurry up and get here, my precious vacation!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Missy was over all weekend with Nathaniel. Don't even ask. I don't know why and my parents have gotten on the "everyone makes mistakes" bandwagon. I'd like to torch that wagon. It's hard for me, but I am civil. Kind of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of my Christmas shopping is done for now. I may get a few stray things here and there, but I'm glad it's all over. As am I glad that the Christmas program is over, too. What a burden that is to have!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh! And I bought the most divine heated &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;mattress&lt;/span&gt; pad over the weekend. So cozy! Who needs a man in bed for warmth? Not me! I have my own heat source now. What a great time to be single .... they make so many nice amenities for us!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-163880489728609103?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/163880489728609103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=163880489728609103' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/163880489728609103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/163880489728609103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/12/ouch.html' title='Ouch!'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-4174150034522445316</id><published>2007-12-11T15:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T15:16:01.133-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Quake me!</title><content type='html'>So, I just went to the bathroom and realized that my zipper was down. Not a little, either. All. The. Way. Down!!! Can you repeat it with me? Mortified!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been snowing and raining really bad today. Everyone is surprised I came to work. I don't know why. I'm taking tomorrow and Thursday afternoons off, why would I throw that away just to call in because of some snow? I mean, really, it's winter. It's Wisconsin. We know how to drive in this crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch me get in an accident on the way home!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-4174150034522445316?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/4174150034522445316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=4174150034522445316' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/4174150034522445316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/4174150034522445316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/12/quake-me.html' title='Quake me!'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-6199156091732995522</id><published>2007-11-27T13:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T13:27:42.695-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuff</title><content type='html'>My new favorite song is "The Funeral" by Band Of Horses. Of course, it is on my One Tree Hill Road Mix CD. You know, in preparation for Tuesday, January 8th's return of my favorite show. Oh, how the time will pass so slowly!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, nothing too exciting. We now have a new cell tower near our house so I finally get reception on my cell phone. So I can call more people (we don't have long distance on our land line and could only use cell phones for long distance, but since reception was so bad, well....you know how it goes.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a staple stuck under my space bar and every once in a while, I can't space. I can't get the darn thing out, either. So if anyone has any suggestions that would be great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hung up Christmas lights on our porch last night. I had hung up new ones along the roof last year and when I went to go turn them on this year only one - ONE - strand worked. Of all 6 that I bought NEW last year. Crap, I tell you! Crap! But I think they look nice along our porch, so something different never hurts anyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-6199156091732995522?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/6199156091732995522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=6199156091732995522' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6199156091732995522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6199156091732995522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/11/stuff.html' title='Stuff'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-4579391942926845451</id><published>2007-11-23T12:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T12:42:36.912-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Recap</title><content type='html'>I have to say that this was probably the best Thanksgiving I've had in a long time. And I also have to say that it was very much unexpected!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister and her husband didn't come down (which was probably 85% of why it was good....he's such a fuddy-duddy). But Nathaniel and Justin came, and Justin's old lady and two of her kids came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was prepared for a horrible day, but the kids turned out to be pretty fun. Way different than Kayla, which was good and sad at the same time. Good because they were fun to play with and easy to get along with. Sad because it makes me realize how awful Kayla is getting because of her mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nathaniel was a hit with the 3yr old. She was thoroughly entertained by him. We call him Nailz, as a nickname. So every time she would say, "Nailz!" He would do something goofy. She had a blast all afternoon. Then she started petting him like a kitty and kept saying, "Nice Kitty!" while Nailz meow-ed. It was hysterical. We have it on video.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I realized this Thanksgiving is that my dad really wants more grandkids. He really liked having those 2 kids around. I feel bad that we don't give him more. And I also realized that if Nathaniel had kids now, he'd be an excellent father. It's hard to go back and change the past with Kayla, but if he found a new girl (and I'm not even considering Missy even though they still hang out) and they started a life together and had kids, he'd be really, really good at being a dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was weird seeing Justin with the kids, though. He did pretty good. I don't know where his relationship is going, but if it does turn serious then he'd be good with them. But then again, I was thinking maybe he's just too attached to the kids to get out of the situation. Or maybe he likes the old lady a lot. Who knows?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I was nice to her, which I thought was an amazing feat for me. I'm going to go pat myself on the back now!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-4579391942926845451?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/4579391942926845451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=4579391942926845451' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/4579391942926845451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/4579391942926845451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/11/recap.html' title='Recap'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-8037435512622534806</id><published>2007-11-21T12:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-21T12:22:29.023-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Turkey!!</title><content type='html'>Happy Thanksgiving (early) to everyone! I hope you enjoy the day with your family or whomever you spend your holiday with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And even though it's frowned upon by many health professionals, please enjoy your food and indulge! What's the point of a holiday where there's not food?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-8037435512622534806?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/8037435512622534806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=8037435512622534806' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/8037435512622534806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/8037435512622534806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/11/turkey.html' title='Turkey!!'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-1596164969934421409</id><published>2007-11-20T08:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T08:59:08.418-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Fromp!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;It may not be the month of April, but today is April's 29&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; Birthday. So we must celebrate the life of a great person and wish her all the best this last year of being 20 has to offer!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;So here is my salute to you: "Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy BIRTHDAY dear April! Happy Birthday to you! &lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(Imagine me wearing a nice pointy hat!)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Some favorite moments from knowing April (please feel free to add your own):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;* The beginning: Red Shorts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;* &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Jacci&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Bigacci&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;* "Wouldn't it be cool if I was just walking along and a puck flew over the glass and I just reached up and grabbed it and kept on walking..."      - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Anonymous&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;* Watching a parade, playing with the chord of the mini-blinds, and then poking April in the eye.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;* Tony (s) {And boys in general.....boys are fun}&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;* "Leave rustlers" *shaking fist*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;* Palm Springs and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Las&lt;/span&gt; Vegas. Can we say "Thunder from Down Under?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;* Chocolate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;* John Mayer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;There are a billion more memories, but I don't have time to write them all. But I just wanted to say &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;"Happy Birthday" &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;to you, April! Have a GREAT day!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-1596164969934421409?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/1596164969934421409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=1596164969934421409' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/1596164969934421409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/1596164969934421409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/11/april-licious-it-may-not-be-month-of.html' title='Fromp!'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-7190003157396898840</id><published>2007-11-19T15:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T15:09:01.953-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Return</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Yay for me!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I know I dwell, but I can't help it.........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I was watching something on the CW last night and I saw not one, but TWO commercials for the return of One Tree Hill. Oh, Chad Michael Murray! How broody you are. How I can't wait for the show to return in January. Seeing the commercials really made me feel better because now I know that it's going to come back. I heaved a huge sigh of relief.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I woke up on Saturday to the nice, safe sounds of gun shots. Damn hunters.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;And can I even tell you how I can't wait for Turkey Day dinner?? I want pie! Now!!! And stuffing. And mashed potatoes with gravy. And corn. And rolls. Yummmmmmm!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-7190003157396898840?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/7190003157396898840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=7190003157396898840' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/7190003157396898840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/7190003157396898840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/11/return.html' title='The Return'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-1210095394603908689</id><published>2007-11-16T09:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T10:04:50.329-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweater Vests</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Really, was the Sweater Vest such a horrible fashion choice? I mean, you get both the comfort of a sweater without the constraints because you don't have the sleeves. What would be a better look than an Argyle Sweater Vest?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Just a thought.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;It's funny how you don't realize that you don't feel good about yourself until one day you &lt;em&gt;do&lt;/em&gt; feel good about yourself. And then you realize you should have taken steps long ago to make your life better so that you'd feel like this all the time. But, you can't change the past, so you just accept it and keep feeling good about yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;My mom's birthday was Wednesday. She thought she was 56, but I had to inform her that she was only 55. I guess getting another year is a great birthday gift!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I'm excited because October Road starts again. It will be on Mondays and luckily I'm done with my class on the 26th so Mondays after that will be free for my TV viewing pleasure. The guy on that show was on One Tree Hill. He was my favorite character on the show. I can't wait for One Tree Hill to come back on. Hopefully this writer's strike won't affect my favorite show of all time. I may be forced to be angry!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-1210095394603908689?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/1210095394603908689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=1210095394603908689' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/1210095394603908689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/1210095394603908689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/11/sweater-vests.html' title='Sweater Vests'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-2335695922810043227</id><published>2007-11-05T12:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T12:10:31.570-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Shoppin' at the Wal-Mart</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So, I was shopping at Wal-Mart on Saturday with my mom. We ran into a family from Sunday school and were chatting in the shampoo isle. I heard someone talking to my right and looked up. There was an old lady standing there, looking at me. So I smiled and was about to return to my conversation when she said, "You're beautiful. It just hit me as I was standing here."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;What do you say to that? I could have said, "So, do you have an available grandson?" or maybe "Could you put that in writing, 'cause then I can show people?" But, no, I did not. I just said "thank you." Which was probably most appropriate. It made my day, anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My friend Lora turns 30 on Wednesday. My other friend Lori turned 30 last Friday. I'm so glad I still have a year and 4 months before it's me. I plan to get drunk on my 30th birthday, so if anyone wants to join me, please feel free to make plans now. I will be drinking a lot and want to plan accordingly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My mom has been baking banana bread lately. It's made from a cake mix and it is super delicious. I swear I could eat twelve loaves of it. Unfortunately it's for her staff at Christmas, so I can't have any. But boy do I want some!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-2335695922810043227?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/2335695922810043227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=2335695922810043227' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/2335695922810043227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/2335695922810043227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/11/shoppin-at-wal-mart.html' title='Shoppin&apos; at the Wal-Mart'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-175081111209322028</id><published>2007-10-23T12:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T12:21:53.912-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream a little dream with me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Last night I had a dream that I was pregnant. It was really nice to feel pregnant in my dream. The rest of it is too hard to describe, but the guy (who I have no idea who he is) that got me pregnant wanted to marry me and he gave me a ring that was an old hand-me-down from his family. It wasn't beautiful, but the meaning behind it made it special. We were going to have our wedding a couple months after the baby was born, and I was scared to tell my family, but he gave me this huge hug and told me how it was going to be o.k.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;It was nice to be hugged. I miss that in real life. But I don't miss how jack-assy guys are. Or how dumb they are. Or how frustrating they are. Or how superficial and shallow they are. Or how they never think of anyone but themselves. Or how they're only good in the first couple of months and then it turns to complete hell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Yeah, I think this not dating until I'm 30 thing is going to work out perfectly for me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-175081111209322028?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/175081111209322028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=175081111209322028' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/175081111209322028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/175081111209322028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/10/dream-little-dream-with-me.html' title='Dream a little dream with me'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-6152165154452720529</id><published>2007-10-15T09:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T09:59:09.649-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Old Hags and Bags</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ummmm. 2 things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Number 1. Justin's "girlfriend" -- or whatever the heck she is -- is freakin' old looking. My mother looks younger than she does!! And she has nasty, ratty hair. Her teeth are falling out and she smells. Not to mention the fact that they didn't wait for me to leave for Sunday school yesterday before they started doing it in my mom and dad's old room. She's a skeezy skanky ho. I don't care for her at all. Even Nathaniel thinks she's ugly. *shivers* I can't imagine what kind of diseases she has. Makes me want to puke!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Number 2. I checked my cell last night and saw that I had a missed call. The phone number was local, but I didn't recognize it so I asked my mom if it sounded familiar. She said it sounded like Such and Such Medical. Then she said to just look it up in the phone book, because she wanted to see if she was right. So, I did. Guess what that number is for? Ass Face's place of employment. What are the odds??????????? Seriously. I don't give out my cell phone number ever, only 10 or so people have it. And if someone called my cell by mistake, what are the chances that it was someone from that place? Creepy!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Those are my two things. I'm still disgusted by Justin's old ho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-6152165154452720529?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/6152165154452720529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=6152165154452720529' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6152165154452720529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6152165154452720529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/10/old-hags-and-bags.html' title='Old Hags and Bags'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-5451408354534819565</id><published>2007-10-12T12:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T12:43:06.639-05:00</updated><title type='text'>There is a miracle in every moment</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I saw an old woman spitting while walking her dog this morning. It kind of made me laugh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;April sent me an awesome, hand made fall greeting card. So, thank you!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Speaking of April, I had a dream last night about me, April and Kristen. We were all sitting the in parking lot of a Wal-Mart or Kmart, something like that, but we were all talking. We had each just had *cough* sex. And out of all of us, April had ended up pregnant. Maybe we were sitting outside waiting for someone (Tony?) while we discussed what she was going to do. In my head I was thinking "isn't that her luck? her first time with this guy and she gets knocked up".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;The moral of my dream? Please have protected sex!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Tonight we are meeting my brother's new "girlfriend". I use the term lightly, as I don't know exactly what they are (I just wrote yar!!). She's................wait for it..................thirty-five. She's freakin' older than my sister! I hope she's nice. She has 3 kids, so I guess he can fit right in with them. That makes her 10 years older than him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Oh, well. Love is blind, ey?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-5451408354534819565?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/5451408354534819565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=5451408354534819565' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/5451408354534819565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/5451408354534819565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/10/there-is-miracle-in-every-moment.html' title='There is a miracle in every moment'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-3529219739862697530</id><published>2007-10-10T12:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T13:00:32.225-05:00</updated><title type='text'>If I was invisible</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I had to laugh at this article I was reading online.....yes, I read the gossip every day. Because if I didn't, I probably wouldn't know what people were talking and joking about. But I've hilighted the best part...the last sentance. I got the article from MSN.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"Looks like Mary Kate Olsen may have had a passion for more than just fashion as she checked out the latest couture offerings in Paris last week. The New York Post says the teensy, septuagenarian-chic starlet got all cultural by engaging in some French-style smooching with an unidentified "scruffy" guy while hanging out at a hot spot. Not an unusual encounter for a 21-year-old in the City of Light, right? Alas, the story soon takes a bit of an apocryphal-sounding turn as the paper claims MK's "tall" suitor "pushed" her against a wall and "furiously made out with her" as their fellow patrons applauded. But wait, it gets even more French New Wave-y, as the clapping quickly turned into a standing ovation when the frisky twin supposedly wound her twiggy legs around her wooer. &lt;strong&gt;And somewhere, Uncle Jesse weeps&lt;/strong&gt;."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So makes me laugh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I feel so important.........someone from another district called me today for my advice on a document. I was impressed that someone would choose to get advice from me. It made me sit up a little taller in my chair. Oh, yeah! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-3529219739862697530?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/3529219739862697530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=3529219739862697530' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/3529219739862697530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/3529219739862697530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/10/if-i-was-invisible.html' title='If I was invisible'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-2107694383783689498</id><published>2007-10-09T12:32:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T12:42:07.392-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Addictions and other such nonsense</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Way back when, a friend of mine set up a myspace account for me. I was glad that she did it, because I never would have done it myself. I'm just lazy like that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I never thought I would like myspace - especially after 2 old high school classmates made contact. (I never did contact them back.......and did I mention that I threw away my 10 year class reunion invite?) And I check it very rarely, it's too complicated for my little brain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;But, miracle of miracles, the past week has brought 2 other people back into my myspace realm. One is a friend of mine from high school that I just lost touch with. We hung out all the time my junior and senior years. And the other is a friend from college who moved our senior year to attend a different college. I cannot tell you how happy I am that both of them have made contact with me. I'm super excited to keep in contact with them. I must say that I was wrong about the evil of myspace. It's not as bad as I once thought.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;And not to dwell on The Bachelor (for those of you who are rolling your eyes at me) but, last night the bachelor's twin (the bachelor is Brad, his twin is Chad......mom and I wondered why it wasn't Tad) switched with him to see if the girls would notice. All I have to say is that if you can't tell that the guy you're dating suddenly has different hair and teeth, you should be kicked in the head. Really hard. But this is why I love that show. Girls can be so stupid!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;And as for the weather - bring on the fall, baby! This is what I'm talking about!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-2107694383783689498?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/2107694383783689498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=2107694383783689498' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/2107694383783689498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/2107694383783689498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/10/addictions-and-other-such-nonsense.html' title='Addictions and other such nonsense'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-7169469681424343031</id><published>2007-10-08T13:01:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-08T13:15:40.037-05:00</updated><title type='text'>La ti da, ti da, ti da.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So, I'm horribly tired today. And cranky. And all I want to eat is a piece of cake with the really sugary frosting on it. The diagnoses (per my mother), "it must be time for your period!" This is her answer to everything. Always!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I posted last week about a girl (she's 25) missing. It turns out she wasn't missing because someone abducted her. She just ran away. Now, while I do feel sorry for her that she felt she must run away, I'm pissed off. What if some day someone really goes missing and no one will want to help find them because of all these girls that just run away. That makes 3 from Wisconsin in the last year that I can recall. I guess the old story of crying wolf really can apply.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Tonight is my class....we'll see if the personal trainer says anything to me. I may give him one more chance - only given if his story is a good one. But I highly doubt it. I am not a good forgiver.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;And speaking of not being a good forgiver, Nathaniel asked me this weekend why I didn't have a boyfriend. I told him many reason, one of which was that I'm bitter and mean. No one wants to date someone who is either of these two qualities, let alone both of them together. When asked why I feel this way, I said that it's basically because I'd rather not get hurt, so this is my defense mechanism. My mother replied that this is a horrible way to live. And while in some respects I do agree with her, I'd much rather be safe than broken hearted. I don't know how long it will take me to ever try to date again, but I do know that it is nowhere in the near future.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Well, I'd better go, I have a pain in my chest. Mabye I'm having a heart attack....which would really piss me off since I haven't had any good food (and by good food I mean junk food!!) in about 4 weeks. What a way to die....fat and eating healthy. Is there any other word for hell???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-7169469681424343031?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/7169469681424343031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=7169469681424343031' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/7169469681424343031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/7169469681424343031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/10/la-ti-da-ti-da-ti-da.html' title='La ti da, ti da, ti da.....'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-6217957522649954811</id><published>2007-10-05T13:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-05T13:10:12.690-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions of a Blonde....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I hate people. I do. They are frustrating. They are not dependable. And just when you think that they're going to be beneficial in your life, you will regret it. And the sad thing is that you do need people in your life. What a lonely existence if you didn't have anyone. But I am so sick of dealing with people. Is there, or will there never be, a cure??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Mostly I'm mad because I was really excited about starting a weight loss program that was not only doable, but attainable. And I was excited to be working with someone who's job it was to help people like me who don't know the first thing about doing the health-smart stuff. And so (just like in a relationship) I got excited about it. But I should have known better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I rushed to my appointment yesterday, changed and jumped on the treadmill for my 5 minute warm-up. No trainer. So, I walked for another 5 minutes, thinking he was late. No trainer. I kept walking for 25 minutes. No trainer. I. Was. Pissed. I grabbed my stuff and left.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So, after a lot of thinking, I've decided that I can do this myself. I'm mostly by myself anyway, so what is the big deal about this? What a jackass. I feel bad for the people who actually pay him (luckily this is part of my classes, so I'm getting it for free.....I guess you get what you pay for!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;But in good news, the book I ordered has been delivered to my house, so I will spend the weekend reading. I can't wait!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-6217957522649954811?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/6217957522649954811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=6217957522649954811' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6217957522649954811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6217957522649954811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/10/confessions-of-blonde.html' title='Confessions of a Blonde....'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-1837304829043857544</id><published>2007-10-04T12:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T12:10:54.064-05:00</updated><title type='text'>If only I were wiser.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I've decided that I hate - HATE - turkey bacon.....especially when it is being cooked by my father at 5:00 a.m. Yes, that's right .... A.M.!!! I suppose I shouldn't really be upset. Today is his 56&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; birthday. He's getting older and I should treasure these years while I can. Except, it would be nice to do it turkey-bacon-less. Right?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I got my hair done yesterday. I like it. It is a fall &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;cornucopia&lt;/span&gt; of colors. A little red, a little brown, a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;blond&lt;/span&gt;. Hopefully it will last until November when my friends will be able to see it during a visit to celebrate one said friend's birthday. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt;. I wonder who that could possibly be??!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I train again tonight. I felt really good after my other workout, so hopefully I'll feel good again this time. As long as he doesn't push me too hard too fast and then I get all sore and achy and then I just won't want to work out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Um, it's fall, right? Then why is it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;freakin&lt;/span&gt;' 80° outside? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Hellooooooo&lt;/span&gt;! Me no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;likey&lt;/span&gt; the heat. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-1837304829043857544?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/1837304829043857544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=1837304829043857544' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/1837304829043857544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/1837304829043857544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/10/if-only-i-were-wiser.html' title='If only I were wiser.....'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-2628550024109438570</id><published>2007-10-03T12:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T13:06:08.505-05:00</updated><title type='text'>If I did what I really wanted..........</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Oh, the joys of exercising!! I sat down with my personal trainer last night and he asked me what my goals were. My first thought was, "what do you care?" But then it hit me, this is his job.....so I told him what I really wanted. He did not laugh at me, but told me it was totally doable. AND it's doable in a year and a half....give or take. That means by the time I'm 30 (and ready to date again) that I could possibly be happy with my body. This makes me very happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Although, he did say that after a week or two I might hate him. I figure if I only have to hate him for a couple years, it's worth it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Have I mentioned that my office is full of boxelder bugs? Yes. INFESTED!! They dive-bomb me and crawl all over everything. The other day I was typing and all of a sudden one was climbing down my bangs. It's just awful. I hope and pray for cooler weather because I can't stand them!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;My boss was talking to me today about Unibrow's new wife. She said that she doesn't see how they could be married -- they didn't seem to fit, she said. I laughed in my head 'cause I totally know what she means. He just wanted to get married and took the first sucker who deluded themself into thinking he was worth it. But I'm just so glad that sucker wasn't me!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Well, I better get back to work.....although I'm all caught up!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-2628550024109438570?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/2628550024109438570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=2628550024109438570' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/2628550024109438570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/2628550024109438570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/10/if-i-did-what-i-really-wanted.html' title='If I did what I really wanted..........'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-1190217675403775475</id><published>2007-10-02T12:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T13:08:45.302-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Craptastic!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ummmm.....blogging? What is this word that you speak of?? It's been so long since I've blogged!! I don't think anyone even reads my blog anymore. Maybe I should post a ghastly confession and see if it has any impact on anyone. Will I get any comments or reactions? Too bad I'm not creative enough to come up with something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Last week, a kid from my town comitted suicide. He was only 20. I know his Grandma, she goes to our church. I feel so bad for her. I can't imagine being that desperate that the only way you could see to get out of it is to kill yourself. I feel bad that he had to live in such desperation.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;There is a girl from the town where I work missing. She mentioned to some coworkers yesterday that a creepy guy was following her. She went to lunch and hasn't been seen since. It's hard for a small community to grasp that something like this can happen to them. I pray for her family. She has a 2 year old child.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I'm working with a personal trainer tonight. I'm terrified. Mostly of having him watch me do stuff. I am the only one who should be able to look at me when working out....and I don't even do that!! We'll see how it goes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;On Saturday, I was grocery shopping and when I was leaving, this guy looked at me and waved and said, "Hello". I said "hi" back and promptly dropped my eyes and high-tailed it out of there. He was only probably 18, so it's not big deal. I wish I had the confidence to be flirty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I am so glad that the Bachelor has returned to ABC!!!! You all know how I feel about this show, so I will not bore you with any of my musings!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;*sigh*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-1190217675403775475?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/1190217675403775475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=1190217675403775475' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/1190217675403775475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/1190217675403775475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/10/craptastic.html' title='Craptastic!'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-3066536755318818391</id><published>2007-08-24T16:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T16:19:34.770-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Remember when.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The other day I was thinking about my mom's mom (my favorite grandma) and wondering what it would be like to know her today. I think I would appreciate her stories more now (not that I didn't then) because I would know better questions to ask. Thinking about this made me wonder what kind of stories I could tell, or the things that I could remember that future generations wouldn't know about, but I remembered when.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So, I thought of a few things, like the actual floppy disk. Or a casette tape. Or early computer games, like The Oregon Trail (that we'd play at school in the library.......and Derek would demand to shoot all the buffalo, but do none of the other stuff). Or when video game controlers only had the up, down, left, right arrows and the A or B option. Oh, so simple.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I was falling asleep when I was trying to come up with stuff and I thought of a bunch more, but have since forgotten. What things do you guys remember???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-3066536755318818391?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/3066536755318818391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=3066536755318818391' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/3066536755318818391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/3066536755318818391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/08/remember-when.html' title='Remember when.....'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-4311756907415500843</id><published>2007-08-03T14:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-03T14:59:53.104-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's August already??</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"&gt;I don't consider myself a hypochondriac, but I seriously believe that I'm growing a brain tumor. You may laugh at my self-diagnosis, but here's why I think so: I was fine yesterday, but then today, I was washing my hair and felt a bump on the back of my neck. As the day has progressed, that sucker has really started to hurt. And ususally, I don't have pains. I'm a pretty pain-free gal. So, I'm worried that it's progressing very fast. I hope I can make it home to eat all the rest of the cookie-dough ice cream I have in the freezer. You know, last meal and all.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000000;"&gt;I haven't been blogging very faithfully, or even leaving comments for the blogs that I do read. I don't know why, but maybe it's due to the fact that I don't want to get caught at work. Even though everyone else around here does personal stuff at work and goofs off all the time, I don't want to be that person. But, here I am, clicking away on my keyboard, being that person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Big birthday bash at the lake this weekend. Should be fun. We get to have Kayla.....I think they're going to teach her how to water ski. Will be hilarious, I'm betting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Nothing too new or interesting. I just keep getting grossed out thinking of the spider in Kristen's yogurt and the moth that flew up her nose. *shudders*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-4311756907415500843?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/4311756907415500843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=4311756907415500843' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/4311756907415500843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/4311756907415500843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/08/its-august-already.html' title='It&apos;s August already??'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-4443820391407642943</id><published>2007-07-13T13:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T13:49:41.435-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Deja Vu!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"&gt;Ummm, remember the little "lights out" incident last week? Well it happened again yesterday! For Real! I can't believe it.....and I thought to myself, am I really in this again? And I knew it wasn't my imagination because I was in a totally different stall than last time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I've been having weird dreams lately. One that bothers me more than the others was a dream I had Tuesday night. I was on the beach (again) and I thought to myself, "My back hurts and I should really get it checked out." So I did. In my dream, I was lying face down on an operating table and watched while the doctors opened up the skin on my butt to reveal black cancer at the base of my spine. When I got out of the hospital I was so frantic and my first thought was that I had to quit my job so that I could take Kayla to the beach and horseback riding like I promised her that I'd do when she turns ten. And then I thought, "after that I have to go to Boston with April."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;It was so horrible, the feeling of urgency. Yet I was quite calm about the dying part. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I wonder what that means??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-4443820391407642943?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/4443820391407642943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=4443820391407642943' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/4443820391407642943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/4443820391407642943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/07/deja-vu.html' title='Deja Vu!'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-6137031115503946437</id><published>2007-07-05T14:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-05T14:21:03.398-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lights Out!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"&gt;The other night I had a dream that a blue poodle took a dump on the steps of my church. What in the world could that possibly mean? (I chalk it up do to all the suggestions on what to do to that lady that was a jerkface to April.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I am all alone today at work. I have a headache and am stressed out. Do they not realize that what I'm doing today, they have never really trained me for? At least my deposit matched all the posts I made. Hope that's good enough!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I don't want to go outside, as I've heard it's really hot. I'd like to stay in my air conditioned office.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;April and Kristen have heard this story, but the other day I had to go to the bathroom at work, so I went to another part of the building. It's a less populated place, since I had to....well....you know... So, anyway, another girl was in there so I bided my time. When she was done she washed her hands for what seemed like 5 minutes and then left. BUT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Before she left she turned off the lights. I'm on the pot, doing my business, in pitch black. The first thought in my head was, "I'm not Kristen! This shouldn't be happening to me." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So true.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-6137031115503946437?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/6137031115503946437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=6137031115503946437' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6137031115503946437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6137031115503946437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/07/lights-out.html' title='Lights Out!'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-9097807049707846903</id><published>2007-06-28T15:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T16:07:49.909-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"&gt;So, the other night I had some dreams that were quite entertaining and seemed true-to-life, even though I know they weren't. And since you want to know all about it, I'm going to tell you what they were like.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;The first one was about Kristen. She was having some kind of Tastefully Simple-type party at her new house. When we arrived Kristen wasn't there, but she had left a note in the corner of her kitchen for the hostess. And by note, I mean a sage colored notepad that was the size of a canvas that an artist would have on a stand. And it read (from what I remember) ".....So-and-so (didn't catch the hostess' name) when I see you you'll be 6'1" and thin as alway, and when you see me I'll have lost 18 llbs. I'll be back shortly....." This makes me laugh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So, this lady was trying to sell us Christmas goodies already pre-packaged. I was being mean and bitter. So, when she said, "...and these Christmas doughnuts are delicious!" I said, "Yeah, because everyone likes Christmas doughnuts full of preservatives!" *sneer* &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;It was a very festive and delicious time, despite my bitterness. And even though I haven't seen Kristen's house yet, in my dream it was rockin'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Then, I woke up and promptly demanded myself to remember that so I could blog about it. When I fell asleep, I had another dream. It involved April.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I was on the beach, by the ocean, swinging on a swingset. When I got off, I was very lighthearted, even though I had to go to work. When I got there I was teaching one of my coworkers how to do my job. Then, some guy from another county came in and decided he could teach her better and that he could do everything faster, better, etc. On any other occasion, this would have made me mad, but in my dream I was leaving - that's why I was teaching her how to do my job. So, after I gave her some encouragement, I went off to find April. We then went shopping to find clothes for my new endeavor - going back to college. She was helping me find clothes when this group of guys (young kids) ticked her off. She told them off. I can't remember what she said, but it was totally April.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;The best part of that dream was that I was trying on clothes in my original size, but they were too big because I had lost weight. So, I had to try on smaller clothes. It was excellent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Maybe the second dream will come true. Maybe I'll loose weight, go back to school and leave my job. Who knows??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-9097807049707846903?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/9097807049707846903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=9097807049707846903' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/9097807049707846903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/9097807049707846903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/06/dreams.html' title='Dreams'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-2889211243038180128</id><published>2007-06-26T12:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T12:18:01.042-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tack - Y</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Please note that the following paragraph contains high levels of sarcasm. Such high levels of sarcasm may be harmful to young readers. Please use discretion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000000;"&gt;Um, you know what I love? *Love*? Presents with strings attached to them. And not literal strings, mind you, because a present with real strings may actually be kind of fun. But what I like is dog sitting for 2 weeks and then when the dog's owner comes back, asks instantly if I can dog sit again in 3 weeks. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000000;"&gt;Now, mind you, I never said yes to this. I said "Check with me again closer to that time." But what happens? (You're gonna love this!) The dog's owner comes into my office last week, bearing a present/souvenier from her trip and in the bag is a key to her house. LOVE IT! Doesn't ask me if I'm still free, or if I can do it. She basically is saying, "Here's a present, you better watch my dog again." Grrrrrr.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;THEN, she called me at work yesterday to see if I was working Friday, because she wants me to let the dumb dog out before I leave town because she wants to stay with friends that night. Ummm, my comment is that if you have a damn dog, watch your damn dog. Don't make me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;In other news, I was day dreaming of winning the lottery last night before I went to bed. It was kind of fun. Not that I'll win.....or ever play the lottery. But, whatev.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I must go, I'm at work but I have other stuff to blog about. Not important stuff, but stuff nonetheless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-2889211243038180128?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/2889211243038180128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=2889211243038180128' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/2889211243038180128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/2889211243038180128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/06/tack-y.html' title='Tack - Y'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-4045167958639142905</id><published>2007-06-19T16:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T16:25:13.924-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blah!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You know, sometimes I just wonder if there are any jobs out there that don't require me to have to clean up other peoples' messes. If there is another job without this hangup, I'd like to know about it. I'm sick of being the shit girl. Always.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I got a haircut. Nothing impressive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I've been tractor pulling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;It's nice out today...finally after humid and hot weather.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I'm not dead.....although, heaven would be nice right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;What's new in your world???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-4045167958639142905?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/4045167958639142905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=4045167958639142905' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/4045167958639142905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/4045167958639142905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/06/blah.html' title='Blah!!!!'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-3254008401057158127</id><published>2007-05-29T18:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-29T18:35:15.894-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Think it over</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I swear that the dog I'm dog-sitting for just farted. And Oh! My! Gosh! *gags*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;You know how it's hard to say "no" and then you end up in situations that you'd never really put yourself in if you had the chance to think it over a lot, but you say "yes" in an instant of pure insanity and misinformation? Yeah? Good. 'Cause that's dog-sitting for me. Please feel sorry for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;But I have learned that I like being on my own. Although, I don't see myself getting a dog. They're too much work when you just want to be selfish. I like doing things in my time when I feel like it, but dogs have to be on a schedule. I had always envisioned me buying a cute little dog, but I don't think that's going to happen. Little and cute or not, they still need to be taken care of.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I'm so bored at my new job. They were 3 months behind when I came, but now I'm all caught up and I'm desperately hoping that there's more to it than what I'm doing now. Otherwise, I will go insane.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Other than that, my Kayla turned 8 on Sunday. E-I-G-H-T!! That's just crazy. It makes me feel so old. But that's life. Nathaniel is going to take her horseback riding this weekend and my sister got her little pink cowboy boots. Because she's obsessed with horses right now. I hope she has fun!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-3254008401057158127?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/3254008401057158127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=3254008401057158127' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/3254008401057158127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/3254008401057158127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/05/think-it-over.html' title='Think it over'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-469194759721311082</id><published>2007-05-23T17:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T17:09:40.892-05:00</updated><title type='text'>OTH Wednesday!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;While searching for the next Pussycat Doll (which is very important, mind you) I have been deprived of my usual OTH Wednesday goodness. I was beginning to think nothing would be right with the world. I mean, would Peyton ever get away from her stalker? Would the high-school married couple (Nathan &amp; Haley) be able to carry their baby to term...they've been through so much already. I mean, getting hit by a car and still being alive is a miracle in and of itself, but to keep your baby, too??  And would Mouth be led astray by Rachel? Oh, the burning questions that were haunting my mind!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;But.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Alas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;OTH returns with a vengance. Last week was a new episode, and tonight is a 2 HOUR marathon, including one of the episodes that I missed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I think I'm going to be okay here. (....it has a candy shell on it. Hmmm. Surprised you didn't know that....)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I digress.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Anyway, I made it through the night house &amp; dog sitting. Of course, as I was lying in bed and saying my prayers, asking God to protect me and make sure I was safe from burglars, hurricanes and tsunamis, Jacob (the dog) started barking and growling and ran toward the door. SCARY! Luckily, nothing happened. So I turned on Jay Leno to drown out any background noises that may have been unfamiliar to me. Hopefully I sleep better tonight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;AND, one last thing. Way to go Anton Apollo Ono! You are my dancing queen.......I love you and your speed skating quickness on the dance floor. (His winning has nothing to do with the fact that my mom and I both called in, each having 2 phones going at the same time, and then going on the internet with every possible email address available to us for voting. Nah, it had nothing to do with that!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Well, gotta go walk the dog. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-469194759721311082?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/469194759721311082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=469194759721311082' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/469194759721311082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/469194759721311082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/05/oth-wednesday.html' title='OTH Wednesday!'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-1988948015149232938</id><published>2007-05-22T18:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T18:43:10.644-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thought I Forgot About You, Didn't You??</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well, well, well. The ditzy blonde finally finds her way back to blog land. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;My job has been going really, really well. I am glad that I made the change and from what I can tell and from what others have been telling me, I'm doing well. That makes me feel good. I get paid on Thursday (thank goodness, I haven't had a paycheck for 3 weeks and I only have $87.00 in my bank account.....and that doesn't include the $20-some dollars I just put on my credit card!!) In June I can get sick and not have to pay anything. I don't even have a deductible for my insurance. Ah, yes! Life is good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Today they left me alone to close the office. They must trust me, but whatever. So, I decided to look at April's blog to see if she has any updates. Then I clicked to my page and then I went down the line and checked other blogs. To my HORROR, when I clicked on "Girls that eat pizza" a porn site showed up. Ummm, apparently I should take that link off my site. Now the government knows I went to a porn site from my work computer. I trembled in fear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Well, Nathaniel graduated from college. He's really proud. He keeps telling my mom, "See, now all of your kids have gone to college." I'm really proud of him as well. HB (Kayla's psycho mother) wants to know where he's getting a job so that she can garnish his wages even more for her own personal use, using the cover that it's for Kayla's child support. So, the first thing out of Kayla's mouth when she got in the car on Friday was, "So, does dad have a job yet?" Mom and I were instantly aware of where that question came from. So (and this is why I love my mother to death) she told Kayla, "Yep! He's going to work at McDonalds." So over the weekend, Nathaniel would ask Kayla, "do you want fries with that?" pretending to be practicing for his job.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Ha!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;This memorial day weekend marks the year anniversary of Missy leaving Nathaniel. I can't believe it's been a year. Time sure does fly!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I'm dog sitting for the next 2 weeks (but not on the weekends). A friend of mine is going out West (and I'm super jealous!) So I get to stay in town, sleep in, and pretend that I'm grown up and living on my own. I guess this means I get to jump on the bed??!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Well, maybe now I'll keep up with my blogging. Or maybe not. Hopefully something newsworthy will happen, and then I can get all bloggity about it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-1988948015149232938?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/1988948015149232938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=1988948015149232938' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/1988948015149232938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/1988948015149232938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/05/thought-i-forgot-about-you-didnt-you.html' title='Thought I Forgot About You, Didn&apos;t You??'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-3674844402459241673</id><published>2007-05-04T10:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-04T11:06:22.962-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Adios!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Well, dear readers, and by readers I mean April, yes, it is FINALLY my last day at the title company. I never would have thought I would ever leave here and now I am so ready to go. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;They have screwed me out of my 2 weeks of vacation I have left. (If I had know that, I would have taken the last 2 weeks off instead of working my ass off.) So, I think I may leave early (since no one is here anyway....what kind of shitty sendoff is that??)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Although, yesterday they did take me out to lunch and everyone had signed a card for me. Meh. Doesn't make up for the thousand dollars I'm owed, but whatever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I will miss being really good at my job. But, I think that I'll be o.k. at the new one. And if not, I can always quit and run and hide at Kristen's new house.....but I'll have to wait to quit until after the 18th.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;It's funny that I've been here for over 5½ YEARS. YEARS, people!! I can remember my first day here. I walked in hoping to get a job because I didn't have any other leads. I was wearing my favorite light purple button down dress shirt with black pants (which are still hanging in my closet, and I'm hoping someday they'll fit again.....as I'm eating a donut!) That first day she had me start working. I sat down and started typing abstracts. Then, in the blink of an eye, it's today and I know how to do everything in the office and I can't believe it's been five years. *sigh*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Now I'll feel like a grown-up, I think. With a real-live job that I got on my own, with benefits, and the union. Maybe I'll get myself an apartment, too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Well, now that I will be working with other people, I'll probably not have the privacy to blog a lot, so it will be off to the public library to blog about my new adventures.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I'm kind of sad today, leaving this behind. And what makes it all the more sad is that no one cares. No one has called, no one is here. I'm all by myself. Which is kind of poetic, really.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-3674844402459241673?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/3674844402459241673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=3674844402459241673' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/3674844402459241673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/3674844402459241673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/05/adios.html' title='Adios!'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-8014228525460740672</id><published>2007-04-30T12:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T12:39:57.877-05:00</updated><title type='text'>G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So over the weekend I was dining with a bunch of nice old ladies. The one across from me looks at me and asks, "So, what grade are you in?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I was dumbfounded, which she must have realized, and amended her question to be, "I mean, how long have you been out of school?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;My response: "Ten years."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Old lady: "Oh! My! Well, you certainly don't look it."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Thanks. When I'm 40 and I get that response, then I'll fully appreciate it. For now, it just makes me feel as if I'm not being taken seriously. Grrr. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-8014228525460740672?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/8014228525460740672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=8014228525460740672' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/8014228525460740672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/8014228525460740672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/04/g-l-m-o-r-o-u-s.html' title='G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-9090243871185078374</id><published>2007-04-27T15:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-27T15:53:11.768-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Just The Girl Next Door</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ummmm&lt;/span&gt;. It's been so long since I've blogged that I forgot my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;user name&lt;/span&gt; and password. Took me forever to remember, but it seems that I have remembered.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;What's new you ask? Well, LET ME TELL YOU! HA! There IS something new!  I got a new job! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Yay&lt;/span&gt; for me and my future and financial well-being! Did I already say &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Yay&lt;/span&gt;??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I start May 7&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;. I was actually recruited to apply for this job by the lady who does the hiring, and according to one of my references (who this lady called to check on my work history with) said that she told her (my reference) "I don't know why I have to interview all these people. I know that I want Krista." Do you know how nice that is to hear and how wonderful that makes me feel? Someone has actually noticed that I've been working my butt off, that I'm a good worker and that I'm smart. And they wanted me. ME. Incredible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;As for my present boss, she hasn't really said much. But it's funny because she has no plans to hire anyone, and yet no one is coming over here to learn stuff from me before I go. Do they not realize that I'm the only one over here and when I'm gone, there will be NO ONE? Duh. But, whatever. None of the girls in the other office have congratulated me, but the girls from our competitor's office have all said nice things to me. What does that say about those bitches who set me up with that jackass? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Let's see, what else? I had a billion things to write, but now that I have a chance to write them they all elude me. I think I was going to write about how weird it will be to leave this job. I mean, even though the situation I work in sucks, the job itself is awesome. I love my work. And I'm good at it. It will be hard to have to learn this new position, but I don't think it will be that difficult. Hopefully.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I haven't been exercising or eating right lately, but I think that it's due to stress from my job. I have been contemplating walking around in maternity clothes and pretending I'm pregnant. Even though it's scandalous, it's much better than just being fat. What do you think?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Mom and I have to sing at a ladies' function this weekend. We were requested after someone heard us sing at my grandma's funeral. Dang it! I don't like singing in public. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;The sad thing about my new job is that I don't get vacation for a full year. I have 4 weeks now, but they all go bye-bye on the 7&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;. I will miss my vacation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Well, we'll see if I remember anything else to write. If no, have a great weekend!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-9090243871185078374?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/9090243871185078374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=9090243871185078374' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/9090243871185078374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/9090243871185078374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/04/im-just-girl-next-door.html' title='I&apos;m Just The Girl Next Door'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-8513622147390901041</id><published>2007-04-11T08:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T09:51:09.400-05:00</updated><title type='text'>JL. CSMs and Plats? FU!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Do I like snow? Yes. Do I like blizzards? Yes. Do I like them in April? Yes. Do I like to dig my car out from under snow at the end of a long day? Um, not so much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I remember in my Senior year of High School that we read &lt;em&gt;The Scarlet Letter&lt;/em&gt;. One of the test questions we had on the book had to do with being tortured. But instead of spelling it the correct way, our teacher spelled it "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;torchered&lt;/span&gt;". And, reading fast, I thought it said "torched." So (needless to say) my answer was wrong. I was frantic at the time, thinking to myself "did they torch her? I must not have read it as well as I thought I did." And all that time I thought I was being &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;blonde&lt;/span&gt;, but it was our dumb@$$ teacher. Still makes me mad (especially since he didn't listen to my argument as to why I shouldn't have gotten it wrong.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;For all of you who are curious, I now have the high score on the racing game from Ms. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Pac&lt;/span&gt; Man. Immature? Perhaps. Fun? Most definitely.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-8513622147390901041?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/8513622147390901041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=8513622147390901041' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/8513622147390901041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/8513622147390901041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/04/jl-csms-and-plats-fu.html' title='JL. CSMs and Plats? FU!'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-8354214110883660394</id><published>2007-04-09T08:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T08:50:34.864-05:00</updated><title type='text'>These Small Hours</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So, Nathaniel and Missy are in a committed relationship. Literally. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;She came over to his apartment last Wednesday night completely drunk (and apparently on something else, too, but he couldn't figure out what). She was crying and hysterical and wanted him to take her back. (He told me later she said that she'd come over to propose to him! Ha!!) He tried to keep her calm, but she was unreasonable. When she went to the bathroom, he checked her phone for something, but found a bunch of text messages from her to her &lt;em&gt;sister's husband&lt;/em&gt;. That pissed him off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;When she came out of the bathroom, she started yelling at him about leaving her stuff alone and blah, blah, blah. He said that she should cut it out with Mike (her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sis's&lt;/span&gt; husband), to which Missy replied that it was none of my brother's business. He said she's right, "it's never going to be my business." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;She grabbed a knife and was threatening to kill herself, while kicking his walls and stuff. He didn't want to call the cops because him and cops, not so much a good relationship. But he did call her parents and they said for him to call the cops and have her committed. He finally got her out of his apartment, but when the cops came she wasn't around anymore. The "protector of the public" said to Nathaniel that there wasn't anything he could do so when Missy came back Nathaniel was to give her back her keys and let her go. My brother was appalled.....Missy was still drunk and high and this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;dumbass&lt;/span&gt; was telling him to let her drive away and possible kill herself or someone else. What a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;jerkface&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So Nathaniel got Missy's mom on the phone and she ripped the police officer a new one, and he went out and found her and took her to a mental health facility. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Who needs &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;soap&lt;/span&gt; operas when you have Nathaniel??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Easter was a joyous time with family this weekend. AND, the Easter bunny brought me a little something called Shampoo. The exact kind that was stolen from some certain brother. I was excited. But I was even more so excited about the Ms. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Pac&lt;/span&gt; Man game that the Easter bunny gave to Kayla (but really, it was for me) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Yay&lt;/span&gt;! I'm going to totally be addicted to it for some time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-8354214110883660394?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/8354214110883660394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=8354214110883660394' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/8354214110883660394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/8354214110883660394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/04/these-small-hours.html' title='These Small Hours'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-5844423300265363888</id><published>2007-04-05T09:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-05T09:41:02.672-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"&gt;The only thing worse than waiting on God is wishing that you had.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So, I've been having dreams with kittens in them a lot lately. Last night they were invading my house and I tried to keep them out. The other night I had a dream that they were coming into my office (Todd had let them in) and I tried to get them out there as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I looked up what kittens in your dreams mean, and it means there's bad luck and misfortune ahead. GREAT! And I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;dreamt&lt;/span&gt; of them both at home &lt;em&gt;and&lt;/em&gt; at work. Even better........bad luck everywhere!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I am trying to come up with some good Easter/Crucifixion stuff to add to my Sunday school lesson for Sunday. Last week we learned about Passover and why that's what Palm Sunday is about....Jesus riding into Jerusalem to celebrate it. The kids were shocked when they learned of Passover. One girl said, "Man, that was intense!" So, hopefully I'll be guided to come up with something spectacular for them.......as if Jesus rising isn't in itself the most awesome thing ever. Pop culture really sucks for Sunday school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Anyway, hopefully I'll still be alive after my 3 day weekend, seeing as though kittens will bring me misfortune. Damn kittens! I didn't know we had Friday off, but we do. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;YAY&lt;/span&gt;! for me. I hope you all have a blessed and wonderful Easter. I plan on downing bags of candy if I can. Isn't that what holidays are for????&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-5844423300265363888?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/5844423300265363888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=5844423300265363888' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/5844423300265363888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/5844423300265363888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/04/only-thing-worse-than-waiting-on-god-is.html' title=''/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-6916277343736329200</id><published>2007-04-03T11:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-03T11:23:05.074-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes it feels just like I'm falling in the Ocean</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So, anyway. My big secret took a nose dive and pretty much died. The secret was a job opening that I was asked to apply for. I was super excited about it because I'd be perfect for it, and the lady doing the hiring was the one who asked me to apply, so barring any major catastrophe I would have been assured the position. However, after looking into it, the pay is way less than I make now, even though it does have fringe benefits. Makes me sad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I don't know what to do. If I should go back to school (even though I don't know what I'd go for) or do I find a job, which I have a hard time finding anything that looks remotely interesting for which I'm qualified. Growing up kind of sucks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I wish my secret was that I was a Super Hero......then I'd just fly away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-6916277343736329200?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/6916277343736329200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=6916277343736329200' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6916277343736329200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6916277343736329200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/04/sometimes-it-feels-just-like-im-falling.html' title='Sometimes it feels just like I&apos;m falling in the Ocean'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-8301095645413781523</id><published>2007-03-30T15:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-30T15:52:38.778-05:00</updated><title type='text'>True Love Stories Have No End</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;In response the the comments made about my shampoo-stealing brother: Yes, you would think that he'd have to replace it, wouldn't you? But the fact is he's the baby of the family and has always gotten what he's wanted.........&lt;em&gt;including&lt;/em&gt; my shampoo. Maybe if he won't give me back my shampoo or replace it, I can con him into taking me to see "Blades of Glory" this weekend...........even though I'd end up paying. But at least I wouldn't have to go alone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Have any of you been watching &lt;em&gt;October Road&lt;/em&gt; on ABC? The appeal for me is that the lead character, Nick, was a beloved cast member of One Tree Hill (Jake). I loved him on OTH, even though he's now gone away. (But thanks to seasons one, two &lt;em&gt;and &lt;/em&gt;three on DVD, the memory of him remains!!) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;One of the guys on the show has some shoulder-length hair, his nickname is Big Cat. I don't like him because his hair is better than mine. I couldn't ever like a guy who had better hair than me. It's just not right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I have a secret that I want badly to post, but I can't. But I really, really, really want to. It's about me, so it's not like I'd be gossiping by telling, but I don't want to jinx anything, so I'd better be quiet. However, I am looking for reasons to tell, so if someone has a good one, I may divulge said information....since I was given a good reason.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Other than that, life is relatively normal. Except for skeezy Missy weasling her way back into Nathaniel's life. She walked into my mom's office yesterday at work and was talking about Nathaniel's Bells Palsy, and my mom was confused because we haven't told anyone about it. And she kept saying how it looks awful, blah, blah, blah. WELL! Guess what? If she's &lt;em&gt;seen&lt;/em&gt; it, then she's seen Nathaniel. We, &lt;em&gt;his family&lt;/em&gt;, haven't even seen him since he's had it (not that we're bad family, he just said to stay away because it's embarassing to him.) Before he had this (and this is gross) he had a bad yeast infection in his mouth and he couldn't talk, swallow or eat. He got rid of that and two days later had Bell's. I think Missy gave him a disease. That's what I keep telling him. He just glares at me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Oh, and did I mention that she spent 3 HOURS at my Grandma's visitation? Like she was part of the family? Apparently icy stares and glares don't deter this whore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Anyway, I better go or else I'll tell you how I really feel!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-8301095645413781523?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/8301095645413781523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=8301095645413781523' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/8301095645413781523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/8301095645413781523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/03/true-love-stories-have-no-end.html' title='True Love Stories Have No End'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-2255780299995924504</id><published>2007-03-28T14:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T14:40:18.371-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Did you ask for Thunder? 'Cause I can hear it!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Yesterday morning I was taking a shower and reaching for my shampoo when it struck me that something was different. It took a while, but then I realized that the purple-bottled shampoo that I got for my birthday was gone. I looked high and low for it, but I couldn't find it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Then I was making my lunch and thought to myself, "That garlic bread we had for supper last night was good, I'll make sure I make some more tonight." And then I realized that the 2 loaves of French bread that were on the counter were gone. I looked high and low for them, but I couldn't find them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Now, while many of you may think I was losing my mind (as I did for a while) this is not the case. It's just that my youngest brother is a theif (more that he's just cheap and lazy) and he took everything. He called me at work yesterday to tell me his hair felt and looked great. I told him that it was bad enough he took my new shampoo, but since it was a birthday present, that was even worse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I don't expect any replacement shampoo. I have the shampoo blues.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So, my other brother (who is going to school and climbs 60 foot poles daily) has been diagnosed with Bell's Palsy. Can I just say: &lt;em&gt;scary! &lt;/em&gt;For those of you who don't know, it's a virus that causes temporary paralysis. His eye is droopy and his mouth doesn't function on one side. I would be more scared about it, but a few months ago a friend of mine was diagnosed with it as well. It was scary then, but she's fully recovered, so I have a good feeling for my brother. The thing that scares me is that he needs to be in top form to climb those poles and it would truly suck if he were to fall. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;That's all I'm going to say about it. I don't like to think of what he does. It scares me and makes me worry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So, I've been in a bit of depression since Grandma passed away. I never thought it would be this hard to lose her, but then again how would I know since I haven't lost anyone really close to me in 15 years? Sometimes it just hits me that things will be different. Like Easter. And then it makes me sad that I missed last Easter because I went up North. But, who would have know I'd been missing the last Easter?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I've gotten fatter during the last few weeks, too. It's funny how people feel that eating helps coping with loss. Not that I mind, we got some excellent brownies the other day. People keep bringing food to my grandpa, but he's diabetic so he can't eat any of it so it goes to my family since we're the closest. One of these days I'm going to have to start exercising or something before my fat pants are too tight to wear. I have to say, though, that I've started incorporating more fruits and veggies in my daily eating. Hopefully that helps, too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I never did post about the wonderful birthday gifts I got. Marlene sent me the most gorgeous roses at work. They were bright red with streaks of yellow. I've never seen them before and I couldn't for the life of me find a picture of them to post. Take my word for it that they were unique and brilliant. Lora sent me a suffed cow (super soft, too) that was named A, for the town I live in. And tons of Easter candy which has since been devoured.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Kristen sent me a box of goodies....my favorite being the coasters that are the same style as the air freshner she got me that said, "I ran into my ex.....and then I put it in reverse and did it again" and also the same style as the notecards that say, "She liked imaginary men best." Oh, Kristen. Such a good gift giver!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Speaking of good gift givers, April sent me a box of stuff as well. A book (which I read in 2 days, it was cute and made me laugh.....and was in large print. Score!), some cocoa mix, a yummy smelling homemade candle and some cute stationary. Now I can write to people if I stop being lazy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;And we all know I got some shampoo.......that I'll never get to use. *sigh*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-2255780299995924504?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/2255780299995924504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=2255780299995924504' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/2255780299995924504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/2255780299995924504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/03/did-you-ask-for-thunder-cause-i-can.html' title='Did you ask for Thunder? &apos;Cause I can hear it!'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-143455124470027340</id><published>2007-03-14T12:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-14T12:25:54.355-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Distracted to Blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Remember my last post where I said I was boring and hopefully something would happen so I'd have something to blog about? Well, I should shut my mouth next time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So, my grandma (my dad's mom) is probably going to pass away either today or tomorrow. It all started last Tuesday when she fell. She's been really weak lately. Last year she was diagnosed with some kind of blood disorder, cancerous-like, but not leukemia. So, she's been battling that but the last few months she's just been really, really weak and tired - which is not like her at all. She's always going, going, going. Always doing something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So, she fell, but her and grandpa didn't tell anyone. But then Thursday morning my grandpa (on the verge of tears) called my mom because he couldn't get grandma out of bed. She was just too weak and she said her ribs and shoulder hurt. She thought she may have broken them when falling. So, my mom went down to their house (luckily they live in our same town) and got her up and dressed and then grandpa took her to a local hospital. But, she wasn't doing well and needed more blood because she keeps losing blood, so they took her by ambulance to the UW in Madison. They said she hadn't broken anything, but she may have bruised her ribs and shoulder, which they say can hurt worse than an actual break. So, they doped her up to keep her comfortable. My mom, dad and sister went to visit her over the weekend. I stayed home because I figured they'd just get her stronger and then she'd come home and they'd hire in-home health care and I'd check in on her then.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;But, Monday night she had a massive stroke. Not the typical throw-a-clot stroke. Her blood can't clot because of her illness (whatever the name of it is) and she had an old bleed in her brain, and then on Monday she got another bleed, so her brain is swelling and bleeding. So, what they've done is given her a lot of morphine to make her comfortable, but that in turn makes her not be able to breathe very deeply, so she is having trouble breathing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Last night after work I stopped at my Grandpa's because he had come home to change and get all his pills. He hadn't planned on staying Monday night at the hospital, but she was so bad that he sat there all night hoping that she wouldn't die. So, I asked if he would like company going back to the hospital (where everyone had been called to come and say good-bye, so my parents and aunt &amp; uncle were there) and he was very glad to hear that. I can't imagine how hard it is on him seeing her like this. But he had accepted the fact that she's dying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Grandpa didn't want to be left alone last night in case she did die in the night, so my dad stayed at the hospital all night. She hung on, but my mom called me this morning at work and said that she's breathing really shallow now. So, who knows.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I go in waves of crying and not crying. I always thought that if grandma or grandpa died I'd be o.k. with it because even though we're close, we're not as close as my other grandparents and I were (they died when I was in high school). But, it is harder than I though. I think of all the things that grandma is a part of in my life, and now they will never be the same. It makes me cry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So, anyway. That is what's up. I will post a happy Birthday post when I can. Thanks to everyone who posted good wishes to me on MySpace. You're all wonderful!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-143455124470027340?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/143455124470027340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=143455124470027340' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/143455124470027340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/143455124470027340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/03/too-distracted-to-blog.html' title='Too Distracted to Blog'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-3796835270591795258</id><published>2007-03-07T16:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-07T16:26:47.251-06:00</updated><title type='text'>We Used To Be Friends, A Long Time Ago....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So I have not watched much Veronica Mars this week, and I am very proud of myself. I have been keeping busy doing laundry, Sunday school lessons and chatting with my parents. I have not holed myself up in my room and watched Season 2 nonstop. Not that I wouldn't like to, but I figure I should have somewhat of a life. But, boy! Do I really want to see what happens!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;It feels like spring has finally found us here in the Midwest. Hopefully, all the snow and cold weather is gone and it will just be nice. Not that I don't like winter, because I do, but I like spring, too. Just as long as summer doesn't show up, I'll be fine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I have no exciting news to share. Justin cut his hair and it looks like he went to a salon to have it cut. I'm very impressed, and disgusted that he's had crappy hair forever when he could have had nice hair. Oh, well. It's his head, I guess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Maybe when I'm not so boring (or busy at work so that's all I think of from the time I wake up to the time I go to bed) I'll write more. Or at least lie to make myself sound exciting!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-3796835270591795258?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/3796835270591795258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=3796835270591795258' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/3796835270591795258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/3796835270591795258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/03/we-used-to-be-friends-long-time-ago.html' title='We Used To Be Friends, A Long Time Ago....'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-6094963595923917611</id><published>2007-03-01T12:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T12:31:56.924-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Be Cool, Soda Pop</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;At night, right before I fall asleep, I think of funny and/or interesting things to say on my blog. Unfortunately, during the much needed sleep that I get I usually forget all of the things that I wanted to blog about. So then all you're left reading is crap. I apologize for this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So, I received my much-anticipated Seasons One and Two of "Veronica Mars" (no thanks, however, to the stupid UPS guy who hung my package in a clear plastic bag from my mailbox, which (coincidentally) is right next to the road, waiting and ready for anyone to just take my pacakge. Kudos to you, dumb&amp;$$). I have only watched a couple of episodes so far again, but they are still as funny and clever as I remember them. I will have a busy weekend, but hopefully I will get to see a few more episodes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;For the past three weeks, I have not exercised at all. I used to exercise at least 6 days a week. Not that I'm healthy or thin, but I did make an effort to at least work out. I feel like crap since I've stopped, but I just can't get into a routine of exercising anymore. I don't think it helps that now Curves is closing and going there was kind of my "jumpstart" to start working out for the day. Now it's a new month and I would hope to kick myself in the butt and just get up and move!  Grrrrr....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So, I've been trying to think of all the good things about not being in a relationship (since I've been kind of coveting one lately, but not for the emotional stuff, just the physcial stuff.....if you know what I mean. I was craving a kiss the other day but, alas, there was no one to lock lips with. Anyway...) and I can think of many, but the one I hold on to is that real relationships can't compare to the relationship I dream of having. See, in real life I would just be disappointed because we all know (well, meta doesn't know because she's blessed......) that guys are stupid and they don't know how to treat a girl in a relationship. I've decided that having daydreams about a relationship is much better than the real thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;The other day in the grocery store (while I was trying to buy donughts without anyone knowing, but of course I run into everyone I know so I went home with vegetables......dang it!) I ran into someone who had set me up with a guy (the guy dumped me) and also knew another guy I had dated (he dumped me as well) and asked me if I was still seeing said dumper. I said no and she proceeded to tell me that I'm so nice that someone will come along and I'll find my right guy. (As her newly ringed finger managed to find it's way into the overhead lights and the diamond blinded me.....dumb engaged people!!) She's a liar.........and so is everyone else who tells me that. Maybe I should be an all-out bitch. That seems to attract guys. But right now, it's just not worth the hassle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I was just coming back from the Courthouse, and it was hailing. I guess March is coming in like a lion. It better go out like a lamb, or else...........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-6094963595923917611?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/6094963595923917611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=6094963595923917611' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6094963595923917611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/6094963595923917611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/03/be-cool-soda-pop.html' title='Be Cool, Soda Pop'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-1991761335915772920</id><published>2007-02-26T12:36:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-26T13:03:07.292-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Where the City Sleeps</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So, metamorphose decided to tag me on her blog and now I have to post six interesting/weird/un-known facts about myself. Let me tell you, this was hard because I am &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;not&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/em&gt;interesting. I'm just weird, but I'm not going to go broadcasting all the oddities of myself on the internet.......or will I??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;1. When I was a baby, my mom had a robe that was lined with some silky-feeling material. She said that I grabbed onto her sleeve and would hold on to that material until I fell alseep. To this day I have to have some kind of blanket with a silky fringe on it if I ever want to sleep well. I just run the material through my fingers until I go to sleep. It may sound weird, but it's true. And it may even be genetic, because my cousin (my mom's brother's daughter) says she does the same thing. And she's almost 40.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;2.  I am completely anal about my desk at work. I have everything in a place and if it's moved even a millimeter from the place that I have it (like my stapler, notepads, tape, etc.) it makes me upset. Everyone in my office knows this, though, and will always tell me if they take something. It's kind of their joke......or they're just making sure I don't shoot them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;3.  This is awful and I think about it a lot, but maybe if I write it on my blog some of the guilt will go away and I can move on (maybe....probably not). When I was in 6th grade, we had a program called Book Buddies, where the 6th graders would go read books to the kindergarteners. I don't know why, but one of the girls in my group annoyed me greatly and she would always have her shoes untied (whether or not this was what annoyed me, I don't know). So one day I purposely stepped on her shoelace and she tripped and fell. I remember saying something like, "Oops! Did you trip on your shoelace?" Maybe I did it just so that she would learn a lesson and tie her shoelaces??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;4.  Once, at a jr. high dance, one of the cutest boys there asked me to dance. We danced. And then he went into the bathroom and puked. I don't know if he was sick, nervous or grossed out at me, but my mom brings it up every once in a while to laugh at me. I laugh, too, 'cause it is sort of funny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;5.  I once poked April in the eye with the chord from a window blind, while watching a parade from our window in college. Her comment was "It's all fun and games until someone gets hurt!" Makes me laugh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;6.  I love cherry-filled donuts with white icing on top.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000000;"&gt;So, those weren't the greatest 6 things ever, but I warned you, I'm not interesting. And I would attempt to tag 6 other people right now, but since I only have a maximum of 3 readers, it just doesn't mathematically work out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Anyway, it snowed and blizzarded all weekend, so I watched Season 1 &amp; 2 of One Tree Hill. And, sadly, my VCR did not tape the Wednesday night episode that I missed because I went to Ash Wendesday church services. I think when I hooked up my new DVD player to my TV, it messed something up. I'll have to fix that before this OTHW.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Speaking of church, there was a high school aged kid in attendance and he looked just like John Mayer. Same hair, same jeans and dress shirt, same shoes. I couldn't stop staring at him. And if I hadn't just seen JM in concert, I probably would have been more preoccupied with the fact that a cute boy attended church. Granted, he's too young for me, but still that shows there's hope for other girls who want to find cute, normal boys at church. Why is that such a hard thing to find!! *whine*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-1991761335915772920?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/1991761335915772920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=1991761335915772920' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/1991761335915772920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/1991761335915772920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/02/where-city-sleeps.html' title='Where the City Sleeps'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-117224135070576378</id><published>2007-02-23T08:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-23T08:35:50.743-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ugh</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Will this never end????  Work has been a b!t{h this week! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I just sat down to blog (since I was tagged by Meta, and I wanted to do my civic blogging duty by complying), and now I have 2 rush orders. Dang it!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So, I will update later. And read blogs, too when time permits. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Luckily (I think) I'm still alive and healthy, so that's something!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Have a great weekend everyone!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;P.S. Veronica Mars seasons 1 and 2 are scheduled to arrive Monday!  Yay!!!  *curses April for getting me addicted*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-117224135070576378?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/117224135070576378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=117224135070576378' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/117224135070576378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/117224135070576378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/02/ugh.html' title='Ugh'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-117104846877214724</id><published>2007-02-09T13:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-09T13:14:28.800-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Deep Thoughts</title><content type='html'>So, if John Mayer's first name was changed to Oscar, wouldn't that be funny?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, it works, really. He already has a wiener.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahahahah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, TGIF!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-117104846877214724?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/117104846877214724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=117104846877214724' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/117104846877214724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/117104846877214724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/02/deep-thoughts.html' title='Deep Thoughts'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-117095559487608361</id><published>2007-02-08T11:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-08T11:26:34.926-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"I never promised there'd be sunshine every day"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So, as we all know (o.k., so my faithful 4 readers know) that I am addicted to One Tree Hill. And yesterday, being Wednesday, was One Tree Hill Wednesday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Despite the fact that OTHW started out really, really crappy, it ended up being pretty good. Since, you know, I had to look forward to going home and watching OTH.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;When I got home and walked into the house, I was greeted by the horrible stench of rotten vegetables that had previously been in our refridgerator since Christmas (notice that I didn't say that there was rotten chocolate, fudge, christmas cookies. Oh, no! I said &lt;em&gt;vegetables&lt;/em&gt;, people. Rotten, stinky vegetables.....). My mom had thrown them out that morning, but didn't bag up the garbage and take it outside. Horrible mistake.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;But, good for me. I took the icky garbage out to the porch where I notice a package that I hand't seen when I was coming into the house. The delightful surprise was from none other than our favorite Underground Librarian, Kristen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So, I rushed inside to open it (of course side tracked by the fact that I needed to spray Lysol throughout the house). Inside as a very cute Valentine's day card that said something to the effect of ...... "I hope your day isn't full of dumb boys who talk to their cats. Creeeeeepy." So made me laugh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;There were also 3 pretty packages, all wrapped in red. I picked one up (and remind you that it is OTHW) and thought to myself, "This looks like a vinyl record...ooh! I could be just like Peyton (from OTH)" And then I scolded myself and said that no one is as crazed about OTH as I am. So I just ripped it open.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;It was a One Tree Hill calendar. How. Freakin'. Funny!!! I laughed and laughed and laughed. OTHW has a way of being surprising.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I also got a beautiful picture frame, which will someday contain a picture of Kayla (if I ever get pictures developed) and I will put it on my desk at work. Also included was a pedicure set. So wish I had had that on Monday for my mini-/not really-pedicure from Kayla. So, thank you, dear Kristen. Thank you!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Oh, how I love OTHW!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-117095559487608361?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/117095559487608361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=117095559487608361' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/117095559487608361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/117095559487608361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/02/i-never-promised-thered-be-sunshine.html' title='&quot;I never promised there&apos;d be sunshine every day&quot;'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-117087975857288050</id><published>2007-02-07T13:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T14:33:31.123-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Always Love - Hate Will Get You Every Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You know how you wake up some mornings and know that today is the day that you should just stay in bed? Don't get up. Don't move from the cocoon of warmth that you have surrounded yourself in. Don't move an inch and risk becoming uncomfortable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;You know that voice in your head that says, "Stay here. It will be o.k. Just stay."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;And then you ignore it because of the whole "responsibility" aspect of life that your parents have ingrained in your brain all these years?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Yeah, well, I should have listened to that voice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;It snowed a lot yesterday, so the roads were nice and slick this morning on my back country road. And that's not a problem at all. I drive slowly all the time, so I've no reason to be scared of getting into an accident.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Until today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;There is a cheese factory/building that is on my nice little country road. I pass it every day. Then, to get onto the highway, I have to go along an old frontage road. I have traveled this road many many a time in the last 20 or so years that we've lived here. At the end of my road, I turn right to go onto the frontage road that leads to the highway. If you're coming from the left, you must yield to me (who is turning right).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;However, this is not what happened this morning. Oh, no. No. No. No.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;As I pass the factory, I look ahead and see a semi coming off the highway and onto the frontage road. I think to myself "he has to yield. I will be o.k." So, I continue slowly on. However, much to my horror and dismay, the Semi does not yield. Does not stop. Does not even &lt;em&gt;frickin' slow down&lt;/em&gt;! So, I try my brakes. It is too slippery to stop. So my choices were: run into a semi or go into the ditch. Even if I had time to stop (he had only given me probably 20 feet at the most before we would have hit each other), he was already in my lane making his turn, so he was everywhere on the road. There was no way I could have slowed down, he still would have run into me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So, I slide into the ditch, then my tail end swings around and I did about a 180° turn into the ditch, which was at about a 45° angle. Needless to say, I was stuck. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;And pissed off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;The bastard had the nerve to honk his horn at me as if to say "get out of the way". I was so pissed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Luckily my mom was behind me on her way to work, she came upon the scene and got out and kind of laughed at me and said, "What are you doing?" Once I told her, she was furious at the truck driver, but I was so shook that I just wanted to get my car out and get going. So, we got my dad and took him out to my car, he said that it would probably be o.k. if we had a 4 wheel drive truck to pull me out. So, we went into town and got my Grandpa to help.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;All the years I've had my car, my brothers have made fun of me becuase there's a ball hitch on the back of it for no apparent reason. Today, it came in handy to tie the chain to my car. Yay for the ball hitch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Anyway, I'm fine, no bruises or anything and my car is fine as far as I know. As I said, I wasn't going very fast anyway. I'm just shook and I must have tensed up because now my muscles all hurt. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Damn male truck driver. Men still infuriate me!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-117087975857288050?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/117087975857288050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=117087975857288050' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/117087975857288050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/117087975857288050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/02/always-love-hate-will-get-you-every.html' title='Always Love - Hate Will Get You Every Time'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-117079165569954428</id><published>2007-02-06T13:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-06T13:54:15.716-06:00</updated><title type='text'>This is my mixed tape for you...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So, you know the saying that it's too cold to snow? Well, whoever said that is a big, fat liar! LIAR! I just got done shoveling the snow in front of my office (because I'm the only one around, and who would ever think to hire some burly man to do it??!??!) and it is freezing out there - and still snowing. I'd like to find the person in charge of this weather and give them a piece of my mind!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;In other news, yesterday was cold. I stayed home because of it. I called in "sick" and then Kayla came over since they had school cancelled and we played all day. She got a Ms. Pac Man game for Christmas, and I've been addicted to it so when I called to ask her to come over I also asked her to bring over the game and she said "Yeah, I already know I'm bringing it. So you don't keep bugging me about it." She did my hair and gave me a mini-manicure and pedicure (which really was just her tickling my feet.) And we watched a movie. It was a good day off of work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I got my hair cut and colored last Wednesday. I really like the color and I'm getting used to the cut. I never get it cut too short, but whenever I do get it cut, then I regret it. But I can do more with my hair at this length than at the length it was before. I haven't really been around anyone the past week for them to notice, so one of these days someone will either let me know if it's good or not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Other than trying to thaw out from just freezing my butt off, there is really nothing exciting (except for April's trip to visit next week, but I'm not going to get excited about it until it actually happens, 'cause you never know with weather these days!) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-117079165569954428?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/117079165569954428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=117079165569954428' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/117079165569954428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/117079165569954428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/02/this-is-my-mixed-tape-for-you.html' title='This is my mixed tape for you...'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-117026374055548661</id><published>2007-01-31T11:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-31T11:15:42.770-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Rambling:Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Today is Wednesday, which to me is just One Tree Hill day. And, while I'm glad that tonight's show will be a rerun because I have a hair appointment at 7:45, which means I'd miss it completely, I am sad that I cannot tape a new episode and watch it later. But, I do have 2 cds from the show, so I am not totally without my One Tree Hill fix.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Last night I ate a whole plate of Valentine's day cookies. I decided that I needed to because otherwise they would sit there and taunt me that I'm not someone's Valentine. Stupid cookies!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So, it's going to get to below zero this week. Do we even remember what that is? What's up with this stupid Arctic air coming in from the North? I'm sorry, but with all the warm weather so far this winter, I've become a wuss. I think I should move South.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Men are still infuriating.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-117026374055548661?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/117026374055548661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=117026374055548661' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/117026374055548661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/117026374055548661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/01/ramblingpart-2.html' title='Rambling:Part 2'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-117010424898689814</id><published>2007-01-29T14:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-29T14:57:29.006-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Rambling....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm hoping that the $1.99/gallon tank of gas I got last week will hold out through this week. Even though gas is now only $2.09/gallon, I just like to think that I'm still driving around with inexpensive gas in the tank.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Why is it that some people go super slow in non-passing zones, but then in the passing zones, the same people speed up so that you can't pass, but as soon as it goes back to no-passing, they slow down again? How does that make any sense?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;If exercise was addicting, then everyone would be doing it. And we'd all be thin. Why can't exercise be as addicting as chocolate? Why?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Why are males so infuriatingly dysfunctional in all areas of life?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I had a craving for cake last Friday, so I thought about it all day and went to the store after work, planning on buying myself a small gift cake, so that I could indulge my craving, while not overeating too much. When I drove into the parking lot, I heard some honking. I figured I had cut someone off in my oblivion to anything but cake. Here it was a friend of mine who I work out with at the store as well. I got out of my car and said, "If you're here to deter me from what I'm about to buy, please don't." I told her what I was buying, but she just laughed. Thank goodness, it would have ruined the deliciousness of my cake-indulgence if she had not approved of the minor lack of healthy eating choice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-117010424898689814?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/117010424898689814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=117010424898689814' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/117010424898689814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/117010424898689814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/01/rambling.html' title='Rambling....'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-116957011224533695</id><published>2007-01-23T10:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-23T10:35:12.263-06:00</updated><title type='text'>90 Posts and Counting</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Have I ever mentioned that I don't deal well with death? I'm not good with emotion and crying and I only like to do it in the convenience of my own house or room, where no one else can see. Over the past couple months I've been trying to prepare myself for the death of my grandma (which, by the way, she went to the doctor yesterday to see what else they can possible do for her, but the doctor said there's nothing. So now we just have to see how long she can hold out. She's stubborn, so I'm hoping for a long while, but my mom says we'd be lucky if she held on 'til Easter. I don't know, anyway....), but now having to deal with the death of two young boys is hard. It would be totally different if I didn't know Kris and John. But having your heart break for other people is almost as bad as losing someone of your own.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;It seems, from what people have pieced together, that Bryant (John's son) was going to work that morning and was taking Grant home. Bryant works for Gary &amp; Amy, who are super close friends and neighbors of ours. Apparently one of the boys forgot something, so they must have turned around to come back, and then Bryant, who was driving, was driving too fast and lost control. They hit a tree and the truck rolled over, but neither of them were thrown from the car even though neither one of them was wearing a seatbelt. It appears that Bryant died on impact, but not Grant. An ice-fisherman saw the accident and called it in, while at the same time Gary was wondering where Bryant was, so he called John to see what was going on, and then John went out to look for Bryant, and he came upon the scene as well. I can't imagine the horror of that - being a parent and seeing what just happened to your child.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Amy called my mom on Saturday to touch base with her and she said that Gary feels awful because when Bryant wasn't showing up he was kind of getting upset, not knowing that he'd been in an accident. Gary is a super nice guy, and I feel bad that he's feeling guilty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Anyway, the funeral and visitation will be together for both of them. School was closed yesterday for grief counseling. Nothing like this has happened in our community before, so it's probably shocking to a lot of people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Thank you for your thoughts and prayers. I know that they help immensly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-116957011224533695?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/116957011224533695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=116957011224533695' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/116957011224533695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/116957011224533695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/01/90-posts-and-counting.html' title='90 Posts and Counting'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-116949054685384254</id><published>2007-01-22T12:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-22T12:29:06.880-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Colts vs. Bears (They're a bunch of big, dumb animals, folks!)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I was super excited about my weekend, because I had nothing planned, and planned on just eating and sleeping and watching t.v. Little did I know it would turn out to be such a disastrously horrible weekend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Saturday morning the phone rang twice. The first time it was Missy (gag me!) calling to find Nathaniel. Apparently he had promised to change the brakes on her car this weekend. I think he's an idiot, she thinks he's in love with her again. But, he'll get what's coming if he keeps this up. The other phone call was from my mom's secretary. There was a car accident in our town, and the woman who does my mom's payroll's son was killed. That was horrible news and my mom was feeling really bad. Then Nathaniel finally came home and said that there were 2 boys killed, but we didn't know who the other one was, we only knew about Grant. The phone rang again and it was my boss telling me that the other boy killed was the stepson of the girl I used to work with (she had "retired" back in April to farm with her husband and stay home with her 4yr old son.) I was just horrified. I adore Kris, and her husband (who's son was killed) is a great guy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Bryant (Kris's stepson) was the one who was driving, and the details at this point are still sketchy. I know that Grant was supposed to be staying at Bryant's house on Friday night, so his mom didn't really think anything of it when he didn't come home on Friday night. Can you imagine getting the knock on the door the next morning?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I talked to Kris's sister this morning, and Kris is doing as fine as can be expected. John's not doing so well. He feels really responsible since it was his son driving the truck. It's probably only natural to feel like that. Luckily, Kris and John's 4yr. old is staying with Kris's sister, and hasn't really caught on to what death means. They are going to the funeral home today to make arrangements. I'm assuming that everything will be held in the High School gym.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;All of your prayers for the families would be greatly appreciated.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-116949054685384254?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/116949054685384254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=116949054685384254' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/116949054685384254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/116949054685384254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/01/colts-vs-bears-theyre-bunch-of-big.html' title='Colts vs. Bears (They&apos;re a bunch of big, dumb animals, folks!)'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-116913649892458873</id><published>2007-01-18T09:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-18T10:08:18.983-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuck In Limbo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have been watching Ashton Kutcher's &lt;em&gt;Beauty and the Geek &lt;/em&gt;on the CW for the past couple of weeks since it started. I like the show because it's not about dating, it's about making people more well rounded if they're open to the experience. Last night, the guys (who are the geeks) got makeovers and some of the girls were very impressed and even went so far as to call them hot. (Granted, they're still the same people, dumb, shallow girls!! But, whatever...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Anyway, so last night, I dreamed about the show and for some reason the guys were to pick a girl and make a "porn" video with them. Unfortunately I went from seeing the scenario in my head to being one of the girls picked by a guy. We went into a room and locked ourselves in. Luckily, we couldn't get our VCR to work. So, we didn't make a video. Thank goodness!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;What kind of dream is that?!!??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Other than my dreams, my life is pretty boring. I did watch One Tree Hill (all new!!) last night, too. One of these days Lucas will realize that Dan killed Keith, not Jimmy Edwards. And, boy, will Karen (Lucas's mom) hate Dan.......even though right now I think she's falling back in love with him. Sucks to be her!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Oh, and did I mention that last Friday night Nathaniel and Kayla had dinner with Missy and her parents??? Apparently she's getting counseling and knows she was an idiot and was trying to apologize. She even called my mom and left a message apologizing for what she did to our family and to Kayla. That's fine, we can forgive her, but that doesn't mean that we should let her back in. If she fooled us once and she's psycho, it doesn't mean that she'll change. Maybe for a while, but people like to revert back to the people that they've usually been all their lives. So, I've been telling Nathaniel not to be stupid and not to take her back. I think he's at the point where it's been long enough out of the relationship that he only remembers the good times, and is romanticizing everything instead of remembering all the craziness and frustration of being with her. Hopefully he realizes that it's nice being on his own for a while and pursuing things that he wants to do, not what a woman wants him to do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;But, he's a boy. And boys are stupid, so I also tell him if he takes her back no one will feel sorry for him when he gets what's coming to him!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-116913649892458873?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/116913649892458873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=116913649892458873' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/116913649892458873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/116913649892458873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/01/stuck-in-limbo.html' title='Stuck In Limbo'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-116888899308465110</id><published>2007-01-15T13:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-15T13:23:13.100-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What Does John Mayer Look Like In Bed?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The above statement was in a magazine I was reading. I've ripped it out and will be sending it to April. I read it a while ago, but being a procrastinator, I've yet to mail it. But I will. Along with an article on John Krasinski from The Office. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I attacked my brother Nathaniel this weekend. I don't know what was up his butt, but he said some mean things to me, and then attempted to apologize in a half-assed way, so I guess I jumped on him and started punching and hitting him. I don't recall the jumping part, but Justin said that I did. I have to say, it felt good to hit something, since I haven't in a really long time. But it's sad because as hard as I was hitting, it did nothing to his layers of muscle. Makes me wonder if I could defend myself if I were ever attacked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I am on my third book in a triolgy from Nora Roberts (please, literary people, don't roll your eyes at me...I like her writing) about vampires. I didn't think I'd like a book about vampires, 'cause I don't believe in them or any kind of sci-fi crap, but I am in love with all of the characters and will be sad when I'm done with this third book. I have been only reading a chapter here and there in order to prolong the ending, but maybe I'll just have to re-read the series or something. I wish there were more books in the trilogy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I am going to begin a lay-speaker class for church purposes on January 28th, it will last until March. I hope that it's informative and not intimidating. My mom wants to go as well, so it will be nice to have someone else there that I know. Last year at this time, my mom and I took a class on Islam (not to convert, just to be informed). I guess we are into a kind of routine to do one new thing each year. I wonder what we'll do next year??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Nothing new at all here (except that Nathaniel and Missy had dinner together on Friday, but I won't talk about that because it pisses me off, but whatever) It's snowing, so I'm not going to go anywhere today during work. I should go to the courthouse, but I'm too lazy to put on my boots and slosh through the snow. Is it snowing where you are?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-116888899308465110?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/116888899308465110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=116888899308465110' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/116888899308465110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/116888899308465110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/01/what-does-john-mayer-look-like-in-bed.html' title='What Does John Mayer Look Like In Bed?'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-116837954668775876</id><published>2007-01-09T15:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T15:52:26.710-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tic Tac, Sir?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So, I'm thinking that when I move away, I'll be moving North. Maybe Madison, Eau Claire, Superior. Someplace like that. Depends on where the job market is most inviting and willing to employ me. But, I do want to move closer to Kristen and April, because life is more funny with them around.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Speaking of them, Kristen wrote on her blog page comments that she's excited to give me one of my Christmas presents. She said something about she didn't know if I had it already or not, but if I did my brothers would like it. My question is this: Kristen, did you get me porn? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Ha ha ha! Sadly enough, that question came to me today during a potty break. I must not have a very exciting life if I have to sit on the pot to think up things to say. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Well, I better get back to work. Busy busy busy here. I had an awful headache this afternoon, but took some Excedrine and now I'm ready to run a marathon. Thank goodness for caffeine!! Weee!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-116837954668775876?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/116837954668775876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=116837954668775876' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/116837954668775876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/116837954668775876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/01/tic-tac-sir.html' title='Tic Tac, Sir?'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-116784855564971398</id><published>2007-01-03T12:08:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-03T12:22:35.673-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Secret Addictions</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well, I have a confession to make. And I've not blogged about it because it probably will make me look bad. But I think I'll feel better about it if I just get it off my chest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;After I got my heart torn out, I signed up on eHarmony for a little bit of self-esteem. I figured that I'd have to find someone halfway decent and compatible with me. And who knows in today's day and age what would come of it, but I figured if I met anyone through the site, that they'd at least be close to what I'd want. I signed up for 3 months, and didn't really have any luck. Then, with about a month left to go on my subscription, I started emailing 3 guys. One guy freaked me out, so I just closed him out. The other guy and I started calling each other and talking about every other day. But then he wanted to meet. It scared me, so I kind of made an excuse about being busy, and he's never contacted me since. Big sigh of relief. Then, the third guy lives in St. Louis. He, on paper, seems perfect for me. We emailed for about a month, then we started talking on the phone. However, when we would talk it was all about him, and if I'd make a comment, there would be dead silence on the other end of the phone (unless I'd asked another question about him). I kept wanting to scream into the phone that if he wasn't going to respond then he should stop wasting my minutes!! Then, to top it all off, he started talking to his cats. A guy with cats freaks me out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;What I feel bad about, though, is that I've just kept avoiding him and not calling him, and I haven't really told him that I don't want to talk to him anymore. I think he's gotten the hint, but I feel horrible that I didn't have the backbone to just blame myself ('cause, really, I'm the one who is scared to fall for anyone ever again) and be honest. I'm a horrible, horrible person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So, there. It's out in the open.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;And, since I'm on a rampage about not being a good person, I totally have a non-Christian story to tell you. Even though it takes place in a church. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;On Christmas day, 2 elderly people were killed in a town near our community. The husband shot the wife because she was sick and in a wheelchair, etc. and then he killed himself. They were not members of our church but I guess they used to live around my town, and the family asked if they could hold the double funeral in our church. So, of course, we let them. (All I'll say about them is that they were the most rude family I've ever met.) But my unnice story is about the Ladies Group that did the dinner afterwards. I was roped into helping by my mom, so I couldn't say no. But those ladies drove me absolutely nuts. One of them, instead of helping to feed the 200 people (when our church basement only holds about 75), went through all of the desserts and picked out the ones that she wanted and then stuffed them into the container she brought and set them aside. And then she decided to go through the serving line and sit in the way and eat. Grrrr. I was doing dishes the whole time because it's was someone's bright idea to use real silverwear (catch the sarcasm??) instead of disposable. And no one was helping until my mom came. I could have strangled those women. I would have totally done it differently. It's been almost a week since then, but I still am fuming over it. There is so much more, but I can't even begin to write it all down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Oh, and I've decided to make a resolution, even though I said that I wasn't going to. I am going to save as much money as I can this year (so, no using my credit card, no concerts, no unneccessary trips, etc. (no chocolate)) because then at the end of the year I'm going to quit my job and move away. Even if I don't have a new job. I'm just going to do it, and since I'll have a cushion of financing, then I'll be okay if I don't find a job for a few months. This is my plan, and hopefully I'll refine it as the year goes on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;You'll all have to keep me accountable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-116784855564971398?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/116784855564971398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=116784855564971398' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/116784855564971398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/116784855564971398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/01/secret-addictions.html' title='Secret Addictions'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-116774809817952899</id><published>2007-01-02T08:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-02T08:28:18.210-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Another One Bites The Dust....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So, I have so much to say, but so little attention span to write it all. So, I guess I'll just ramble for a little bit and then hope to keep up with my posting this year. Not that I'm making a resolution, because I don't belive in making resolutions, but I figure then I won't be so boring all the time if I remember to write about stuff as it happens.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I don't know if this is dorky or not, but mom and I bought Kayla Disney Bingo for Christmas....and I have been playing it nonstop since she opened it. I am addicted to a children's game. I don't know what that says about me!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I have also been eating chocolate nonstop for a week. I may regret it later, but for now I am thoroughly enjoying it. Christmas candy is a wonderful thing. (I suppose I should have said in moderation, but I totally don't belive &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt;!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;The only other interesting news I have is that Nathaniel's ex-fiance (the whore, Missy) has been calling him crying to take her back because she's apparently broken up with the guy she left my brother for. So she has no place to go, no car, and no sympathy from us. Nathaniel keeps teasing me and telling me Missy's coming over to visit. So I give him my death and evil look. Shuts him right up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Well, anyone make any good New Years resolutions? As I said, I don't because, well, as if I'd ever keep them. Besides, if I wanted to be a better person, blah, blah, blah, I could do it any day, not just on the first of the year. I will say that no matter how many people want to set me up this year, my answer will always be a big NO! I've learned my lesson. The lesson of 2006. And thank the Lord that 2006 is finally over!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-116774809817952899?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/116774809817952899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=116774809817952899' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/116774809817952899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/116774809817952899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2007/01/another-one-bites-dust.html' title='Another One Bites The Dust....'/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18573790.post-116664736920259969</id><published>2006-12-20T14:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-20T14:42:49.236-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Merry Christmas!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;I wish you all a very Merry Christmas!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;I am off Thursday, Friday, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. I am so happy about that, words cannot explain!! I have been so busy I haven't even started Christmas shopping yet, so tomorrow Nathaniel and I are off to get his present (I drew his name) and more than likely, I'll be buying my own presents (he drew my name).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Hopefully when I get back next Thursday I will be revived and ready for another week of work.........well, 2 days at least!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18573790-116664736920259969?l=distractedblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/116664736920259969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18573790&amp;postID=116664736920259969' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/116664736920259969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18573790/posts/default/116664736920259969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://distractedblogging.blogspot.com/2006/12/merry-christmas-i-wish-you-all-very.html' title=''/><author><name>atsirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03711033338046803131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:CuecuP2kno30dM:http://stochastix.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/newport-beach-at-sunset.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
