<?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-16977651</id><updated>2011-10-11T01:44:09.700-05:00</updated><category term='zumba'/><category term='cool links'/><category term='bitchy'/><category term='blogging'/><category term='holidays'/><category term='kids'/><title type='text'>the gina blog</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>43</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-3098182695437895405</id><published>2010-05-21T14:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-21T14:31:31.185-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Special Assessment</title><content type='html'>I live in a nice neighborhood.&amp;nbsp; Most of the time, everything is just peachy. But when there is money due, the old broad treasurer goes a little nutty. We recently voted to replace the old sign out on the street. We got our bill for our share, and it clearly states that the special assessment is due by June 1st.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I figured I would pay it by June 1st. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This idea is not sitting well with Nutso Lady. She loves to send weekly emails like the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Hello Friends and Neighbors,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old front entry sign on the east has been removed and we now have a light installed to illuminate the west side sign.&amp;nbsp; Things are progressing well with the new sign project.&amp;nbsp; All electric work is completed and Greenturf will be out within the next couple of days to extend irrigation lines for plants and bushes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything is almost ready for the installation of the new sign, however, we only have about half of the 90 *Where I Live* homeowners who have paid the special assessment bill, which was mailed out at the beginning of May.&amp;nbsp; We wish to thank those homeowners who have paid, but want to remind the balance that the special assessment cost is considered the same as annual dues.&amp;nbsp; It is mandatory that payment is made timely.&amp;nbsp; Payment will be considered late if not received by May 31, 2010.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please forward your check in the amount of $160.00 to *Where I Live*HOA, &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Thank you,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Where I Live*HOA&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After several of these, you know I'm just gonna wait until May 30th to mail that fucker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, I get on her last nerve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hehe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-3098182695437895405?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/3098182695437895405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=3098182695437895405&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/3098182695437895405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/3098182695437895405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2010/05/special-assessment.html' title='Special Assessment'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-8847979786784080026</id><published>2010-05-04T14:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-04T14:35:21.583-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You can't make this up</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Things said to me recently:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was looking for you on Facebook. I thought I found you, but the profile picture was too pretty. Was that you? I want to friend you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow! I go away for two weeks and come back and you look SO skinny! I can tell you've lost weight. Isn't it sad that the boobs are the first thing to go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some random chick at Panera Bread: Hi, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with your friend about weight, I happen to sell a product that can help you with your weight loss. It's all natural! Me: Oh, really, how much weight have you lost on it? Srcapb: Oh *smirk*, I've never needed to lose weight. Me: Oh, I don't use all natural products. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Things said about me recently:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really cute single guy friend of a friend: Your friend Gina is hilarious! She's smart and cute! I need you find me the 30 year old version of her. (And this guy is OLDER than me.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-8847979786784080026?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/8847979786784080026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=8847979786784080026&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/8847979786784080026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/8847979786784080026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2010/05/you-cant-make-this-up.html' title='You can&apos;t make this up'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-7791497784677710783</id><published>2010-04-07T12:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T12:24:19.247-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bitchy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='zumba'/><title type='text'>A Quandry</title><content type='html'>I am pondering something today. When is something someone says a compliment? I have wondered lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be honest, I was chubbing up pretty good last year. I decided I had had enough and started working out again. I HATE working out. I would rather stick a fork in my eye. I really would. So, I thought I would try some different stuff until I found something I could stand to do on a regular basis. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the new things I tried was Zumba. Now, I know most of you will snicker at that, but it really is fun. Not only fun, but it burns a TON of calories. I have now lost over 30 pounds. Awesome, right? Not only that, I've made some really, really sweet friends. We have a little zumba posse. We have a great time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so here's where the tricky part kicks in...how to take what some chicks say. A great example is &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wow, you're starting to look good." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that it's great that I'm starting to look good. I know I didn't look that good before. But, really, do you HAVE to say it like that? All surprised? Like it's a shocker that I pulled it off? This is a statement I have heard more than once from chicks who don't normally give me the time of day and are skinny bitches to begin with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do I get across, you know, with words and not fists, that, while I appreciate the compliment, you sound to me like a snarky beeotch when you say it like that? And a smack upside that boney little head of yours is the proper response? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm just being sensitive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-7791497784677710783?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/7791497784677710783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=7791497784677710783&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/7791497784677710783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/7791497784677710783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2010/04/quandry.html' title='A Quandry'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-8123692188935181826</id><published>2010-04-03T12:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T12:14:09.535-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bitchy'/><title type='text'>Dancing Queen</title><content type='html'>Dear Really Pretty Asian Girl in my Zumba class,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in awe of you in so many ways, I just had to share... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, how have you managed to get through life so far with such severe personal space issues? I'm so very sorry that you can't seem to grasp how uncomfortable you can make people. It must hinder you in ways you don't even know. I have tried really hard not to accidentally smack you upside the head during class. I believe I lose more calories that way, so you've been ok, but my period is coming soon and I can't guarantee your safety during my pms, so good luck. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second, I wish you knew how much I appreciate your little tiny body. It's sweet in a way and, yet, you manage that whole nasty thing when you roll down your sweat pants to the very top of your butt crack. I could go on and on with the various porn scenarios that people could work out with you showing off so much skin and bumping into the rest of us, but we'll just leave that to people's dirty imaginations. I do have to say that your complete lack of any type of body hair is astounding. Did you get lasered or is that one of the perks of being a hot Asian girl?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third, your dancing, honey, honey, honey, your dancing. Maybe you should practice at home or something. Maybe switch to modern dance or just plain jump-roping. I dunno. I guess when you're that gorgeous, you don't really have to move much. Or think. Or have manners.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every weekend, when I'm looking in the mirror just as class is beginning and see you coming in late, my heart skips a little. I think to myself, "Is she going to worm her way up here with us chicks who got here on time? Or, will she...please just stay in the back with the other late people?" A little part of me dies when I see you ducking your way up to stand, nay, meld up with us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I should thank you. You have taught me the lesson of how to do a jumping, dancing, aerobic class in a one foot square area. That is a valuable skill no one can take from me. If I utilize that somewhere else, I'll be thinking of you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;The chick you keep bumping into with the big butt and unfortunate hips.&lt;br /&gt;xoxo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-8123692188935181826?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/8123692188935181826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=8123692188935181826&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/8123692188935181826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/8123692188935181826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2010/04/dancing-queen.html' title='Dancing Queen'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-264159450744189813</id><published>2010-03-24T20:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T20:41:23.163-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cool links'/><title type='text'>Some housecleaning</title><content type='html'>I'm straightening up things in my life. It's less than exciting. I'm having some fun resurrecting this little blog, though! I gotta figure out a logo. I haven't been here for a while. It's kinda like sticking something up in the attic and forgetting about it. Then you bring it back down, dust it off, and want to have it around again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I'm weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll see if this works. Sometimes things seem like a good idea, like eating at Taco Bueno or getting married, but then it turns ugly and ends up biting you on the ass. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I need to update is my old blogroll. A lot of the blogs on there have gone away. So sad. Some of of them were really, really good. I chatted with every one of the writers. There are lots of cranky people in the world! The blogs listed here are all so lovely. And I deleted some. High end Mommy Bloggers irk me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://womanlyparts.blogspot.com/"&gt;~ A Woman of Many Parts ~&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://alithinks.typepad.com/alithinks/"&gt;AliThinks&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://aslifefluttersby.wordpress.com/"&gt;as life flutters by&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sfbacongrease.blogspot.com/"&gt;Bacon Grease&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bagmomma.blogspot.com/"&gt;BagMomma&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.becauseimyourfather.com/"&gt;Because I'm Your Father&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://artweld.blogs.com/bluesloth/"&gt;Blue Sloth&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.busymom.net/"&gt;Busy Mom&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://crapanddrivel.squarespace.com/"&gt;Drivel&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://crazyvirgo.typepad.com/home/"&gt;Crazy Virgo&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://mydogharriet.blogspot.com/"&gt;I'm ablogging&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://objustanotherday.blogspot.com/"&gt;Just Another Day&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://metrodad.typepad.com/"&gt;MetroDad&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mommyneedscoffee.com/"&gt;Mommy Needs Coffee&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://mommyofftherecord.blogspot.com/"&gt;Mommy off the Record&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://mrsmogul.blogspot.com/"&gt;Mrs. Mogul&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://thispieceofwork.blogspot.com/"&gt;POW&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://stitchriprepeat.blogspot.com/"&gt;stitch.rip.repeat&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.suburbanbliss.net/"&gt;Suburban Bliss&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://mstanefski.blogspot.com/"&gt;Sven's Personal Memos&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sweet-juniper.com/"&gt;sweet juniper!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.freshieandzero.blogspot.com/"&gt;the adventures of freshie &amp; zero&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://themommyblog.net/"&gt;The Mommy Blog&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I start chatting with people again, they might get moved over to the new roll. If you want to trade links, write me! Am I a link whore? Oh. Yeah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-264159450744189813?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/264159450744189813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=264159450744189813&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/264159450744189813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/264159450744189813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2010/03/some-housecleaning.html' title='Some housecleaning'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-339595138051727350</id><published>2010-03-23T09:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T09:53:34.775-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><title type='text'>Why Hello There</title><content type='html'>What's up with this? If you've run across this cute little blog and wonder what the hell is up with the old and new posts, please let me explain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and welcome!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Gina. The Gina blog started out as a "mommy blog" and evolved into one big bitchfest. I actually wrote a lot more than you see here, but I deleted the monotonous stuff and kept some funny things. I made the mistake of trying to put a muzzle on what I felt like I wanted to write because nice mommy bloggers don't fucking scream about how stupid most people are. They talk about nice things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not really that nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I felt like I couldn't show off my art stuff and be so fucking bitchy. I was admonished a couple of times to quit the language. bleh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, frankly, I can't. I bitch. That's me. Most of the time, I can be funny about it. And, sometimes, not. I also noticed I wasn't having fun with it anymore. So I shelved the gina blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I noticed that I missed it. I have a lot of interesting things going on that I want to bitch about. I don't want to do it on my other sites because I am going to make a living with those. Believe me, I'm not that employable, so I need them. Check them out. Buy something. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the last few years trying to make a good life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have FINALLY figured out that I should just live one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here we are. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to enjoy this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't like the way I'm doing it, buh by.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-339595138051727350?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/339595138051727350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=339595138051727350&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/339595138051727350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/339595138051727350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2010/03/why-hello-there.html' title='Why Hello There'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-5034823764432605052</id><published>2007-04-13T22:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-13T22:31:15.064-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><title type='text'>I might need a grant</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I am currently running a study. I am trying to find out if I can raise a seven-year-old boy on the following foods:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;- corn dogs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;- cheetos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;- milk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;- strawberrys&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;- diet dr. pepper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;My subject is very compliant to this diet. Actually, he won't eat anything else right now, so I should have solid results.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I am sure the Scientific community will be thrilled to hear how this turns out.  &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/16977651-5034823764432605052?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/5034823764432605052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=5034823764432605052&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/5034823764432605052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/5034823764432605052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2007/04/i-might-need-grant.html' title='I might need a grant'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-450045415289898595</id><published>2007-03-28T22:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T22:48:03.101-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeling so pretty</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Do you ever occasionally walk past a mirror and think "Holy shit! Is that me?!?!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Or am I the only one?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Just curious.&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/16977651-450045415289898595?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/450045415289898595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=450045415289898595&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/450045415289898595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/450045415289898595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2007/03/feeling-so-pretty.html' title='Feeling so pretty'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-1552118575072860341</id><published>2006-11-20T21:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-20T22:07:14.602-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><title type='text'>Who said all of those crazy people could come to my house?!?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Oh, yeah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;That was me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;What was I thinking having the family come to my house for Thanksgiving? Obviously I wasn't. Or I would be packing my bags to go to Mexico. Like my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strike style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;asshole&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; darling brother is. BTW Jason, don't forget my magnet! And I hope you have a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strike style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;miserable time and hate every minute of your Mexican trip that you are taking to avoid the family drama&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; lovely trip! {{ miss you!}}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a 20 pound dead bird in my &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;refrigerator&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And THAT is considered normal.&lt;br /&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/16977651-1552118575072860341?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/1552118575072860341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=1552118575072860341&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/1552118575072860341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/1552118575072860341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2006/11/who-said-all-of-those-crazy-people.html' title='Who said all of those crazy people could come to my house?!?'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-115500761167820902</id><published>2006-08-07T19:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:40.790-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mike Rowe LOVES me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I have to confess something. I am having an affair. Of course, it's all in my mind. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;In my wacky world, where the sky is perfectly pink all of the time, &lt;a href="http://dsc.discovery.com/fansites/dirtyjobs/bio/bio.html"&gt;Mike Rowe&lt;/a&gt; thinks I am fabulous. He can't wait to ask me how my day was. He always notices when I do something to my hair. He looks forward to cooking culinary delights while reading Jane Austen aloud to me in that husky man voice he has. He frets about my angst over Mr. Darcy. Mike always wants everything to be perfect, and he always wants it to be so FOR ME! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://fabulousshopping.com/Images/ThanksMikeRowe.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.godiva.com/godivaCollection/chocolate_piece.aspx?id=6"&gt;Godiva Hazelnut Shells&lt;/a&gt;? &lt;em&gt;He never forgets to pick them up.&lt;/em&gt; The perfect bouquet of salmon pink roses, peonies, and tulips? &lt;em&gt;He picks the stems out himself to insure my satisfaction.&lt;/em&gt; A perfectly inspired love note? &lt;em&gt;He leaves me one every day.&lt;/em&gt; Arguments? &lt;em&gt;Never! He knows I am always right.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He is just so....wonderful.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He really is a lovely celebrity boyfriend. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Which means I can NEVER meet him. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The real Mike Rowe is probably a very nice person. I don't really know anything about him. He might be a complete slob like my husband. He might have serious issues with important dates like my husband. He might hog the remote like my husband. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mike might be just like my husband in real life. So what would be the point?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My Mike is fabulous. If Mike is also your celebrity boyfriend, I am sure your version is lovely as well. There are plenty of Mikes to go around. I do have to thank everyone who stops by looking for Mike. It's nice to meet you. Mike is the number one referrer to my blog. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;See how he takes care of me?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I do enjoy my celebrity boyfriends. You can't do that whole perfect life thing with real people. Hot guys you know in real life invariably do something to burst the bubble. It never fails.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The only exception are firefighters. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Aaaaahhh, firefighters!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That's a whole other post.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-115500761167820902?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/115500761167820902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=115500761167820902&amp;isPopup=true' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/115500761167820902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/115500761167820902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2006/08/mike-rowe-loves-me.html' title='Mike Rowe LOVES me'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-114747722979344767</id><published>2006-05-12T18:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:40.103-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes, I'm wearing black</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I know I haven't posted in a while. The &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/12/ive-got-bug-up-my-ass.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Bug&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt; died last Sunday. I have been in mourning. There was a big hole left in my soul over this loss. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I hope it is filled by the beta fish that joined our family yesterday. His name is Trent. I don't know why. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I hope you all are doing fabulously!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-114747722979344767?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/114747722979344767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=114747722979344767&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/114747722979344767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/114747722979344767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2006/05/yes-im-wearing-black.html' title='Yes, I&apos;m wearing black'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-114529218848382584</id><published>2006-04-17T11:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:39.974-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just so I know</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Hey - all parents out there on the interwebs with tweener kids. How many times did you listen to the &lt;a href="http://psc.disney.go.com/disneychannel/originalmovies/highschoolmusical/"&gt;High School Musical Soundtrack&lt;/a&gt; before your ears started bleeding?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Just curious.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-114529218848382584?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/114529218848382584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=114529218848382584&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/114529218848382584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/114529218848382584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2006/04/just-so-i-know.html' title='Just so I know'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-114528636513895227</id><published>2006-04-17T09:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:39.906-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yay! My 100th Post</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I should have thought about this. I pondered doing something spectacular as I was zipping down the highway after dropping off my kids at school. I tried to think of something brilliant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Some ideas:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.prideandprejudicemovie.net/splash.html"&gt;Pride &amp; Prejudice&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Why can't I stop watching this movie? I love and love and love it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.target.com/gp/homepage.html/602-2674413-2452645"&gt;Target&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Why do I love this store so much? What is it about cheap knock-offs of fabulous lamps that makes me all warm and fuzzy inside? Is it the red walls and the smell of Starbucks that greets me as I walk in the door? Oh, absolutely. But I forgive them for putting me in a buying frenzy. And I shop with the masses. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Easter_Bunny"&gt;Easter Bunny&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;He was lazy this year. And, apparently, cheap. I let the kids know that their attitude pissed him off and he may not come back next year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm Tired&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Yea, so is every other mom. So that just seems like whining.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;What is 100th post worthy? I don't know. I'm just thrilled that I managed to blog twice in the same week!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I will work on something clever soon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-114528636513895227?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/114528636513895227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=114528636513895227&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/114528636513895227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/114528636513895227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2006/04/yay-my-100th-post.html' title='Yay! My 100th Post'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-114358856155614770</id><published>2006-03-28T17:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:39.562-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Entitled people piss me off.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/1600/churchsign.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/320/churchsign.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Do not park your Escalade in the middle of TWO lanes of traffic, get out, and walk off to chat with one of your tennis-playing friends while the rest of us are stuck behind you. If you are one of those people who thinks this is a good idea, I think there is a special place in Hell for you. A place where there is endless cellulite, all the men are broke and pudgy, and there is NO Diet Coke.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-114358856155614770?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/114358856155614770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=114358856155614770&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/114358856155614770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/114358856155614770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2006/03/entitled-people-piss-me-off.html' title='Entitled people piss me off.'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-113996732384871185</id><published>2006-02-14T16:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:38.865-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy full of love day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I really hope you are enjoying a lovely Valentine's Day! If you aren't, I'm sorry! And that person you think you should be spending this evening with is a complete jerk - and you deserve so much better!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I am having a fine day. My husband is doing his thing down in Dallas, so I am off the hook as far as looking presentable (Love you honey! Mean it!). Last year, I had to tag team doing all three kid's parties at school, which made me insane. This year I only had to worry about one. So it's been a laid-back day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I have done some reflecting lately. The other day I turned 39 (thanks for all of the nice birthday shout-outs!) so I have thought about how happy I am to still be alive. Yay! And today I watched people driving around with bunches of balloons or flowers in their cars which just reminded me of Valentine's past.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I usually ended up being pissy about Valentine's because it is so close to my birthday. Almost every guy I have ever dated at this time of year combined the two. Even a couple of long-term ones. What a bunch of cheapasses! One of the reasons I married my husband was because he got me a birthday present and took me out for my birthday, and then send me a ginormous basket of flowers for our first Valentine's Day. Huge points! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;It's funny how things change. Years ago, it was such a big deal to me to have the guy I was dating go all out, but now my priorities are so different. I get the best valentines ever from my kids. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/320/valentine.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That beats jewelry EVERY time!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-113996732384871185?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/113996732384871185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=113996732384871185&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113996732384871185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113996732384871185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2006/02/happy-full-of-love-day.html' title='Happy full of love day'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-113924352772497129</id><published>2006-02-06T10:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:38.791-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yoga schmoga</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I went to my first yoga class yesterday. It was interesting. I went with my friend Patty. Which made it fun for me. I do much better in a new situation if I have someone I can shoot looks at, like "did you see what that girl just did?!?! Holy shit!" She shot back several "OH MY GOD"s. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;It's a good system.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I can see how this yoga thing can be good for me. I think I used every muscle on my body. Many of them haven't been used in years. So, needless to say, they are PISSED. I am sore all over. My ears even hurt. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;But I will go back. I have done the worst class - the first. So, it should get easier. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Please tell me it will get better!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;BTW - on a side note I discovered that getting a pedicure right before you go to yoga is a bad idea. There was some mat slippage, which I think was probably good for my legs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I am sooo glad I got one, though! I had me some pretty grusome feet! You know it's bad when the woman giving you said pedicure is grossed out. She admonished me for waiting so long. I felt like I was about to be grounded. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I am so sorry! I will resume getting regular pedicures. I don't want to be one of the ones the pedicure women roll their eyes at when I walk in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-113924352772497129?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/113924352772497129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=113924352772497129&amp;isPopup=true' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113924352772497129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113924352772497129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2006/02/yoga-schmoga.html' title='Yoga schmoga'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-113916580200122630</id><published>2006-02-05T10:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:38.703-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Starbucks is a cult</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I love Starbucks. It is a sad thing to admit that I am one of the masses. I like to think of myself as someone who forges her own trail. But I can't seem to with coffee. I pass a Starbucks and I feel an internal pull. My leg twitches. I must turn in and satisfy my urge at least a couple of times a week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;My husband has been sucked in, too. He gets his fix at his office. Starbucks has a kiosk in the building's cafeteria. He gets to waltz in and get his coffee all day, every day. That's just not right. If Starbucks was kind at all, they would swing a cart by my house every morning. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Now Starbucks is branching out. They have sucked in my kids. It was a brilliant plan. Little by little. Little taste by little taste. My kids have all had a drink and now they thirst for it. They crave it. They beg and plead and whine for it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Whyeeee?!?!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I thought I was only succumbing to my own fervent need for tasty, high calorie caffeine. It all started at Target. Target built a super version of itself a few years ago in Edmond, OK. And what was inside? A handy little Starbucks counter. I had not seen a Super-Target since I had lived in Dallas. I was all giddy and having hot flashes. I rushed over with my young children and oohed and ahed my way through my grocery shopping while enjoying the most pathetic drink ever created - the &lt;a href="http://www.starbucks.com/retail/nutrition_beverage_detail.asp"&gt;Frappuccino&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I did not realize at the time how Starbucks did it. The insidious way they get one person hooked and then let that person hook in everyone else in the family. The way they make sure that one sip is all it takes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I didn't think I was creating a monster when I let my daughter take her first &lt;a href="http://www.starbucks.com/retail/nutrition_beverage_detail.asp"&gt;Frappuccino&lt;/a&gt; sip. But I have. Now she wants one all of the time. If she sees an empty Starbucks cup in the trash she immediately asks why she didn't get one. If I promise her a treat she wants it to be a Starbucks. If I am foolish and leave my Mocha Grande or Frappuccino sitting unattended, she will suck that bad boy down as if it was the last thing she is ever gonna drink.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/320/Pfrap.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Our sons aren't much better, but they stick with the hot chocolate and the bottled weak version of the Frappuccino.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Is there some sort of treatment for this? Some sort of intervention? Or are we doomed to watch our daughter become a caffeine junkie like we are?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;You are witnessing a family out of control.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-113916580200122630?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/113916580200122630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=113916580200122630&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113916580200122630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113916580200122630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2006/02/starbucks-is-cult.html' title='Starbucks is a cult'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-113876518337262492</id><published>2006-01-31T15:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:38.538-05:00</updated><title type='text'>China, Strep Throat &amp; Toilets - Oh, My!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Just in case you missed me...I am still here. I have been busy. My week in a nutshell:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Last Wednesday:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;My daughter has cheerleading. Almost all of Ms. P's little best friends are in this class. She wanted to invite them to see &lt;a href="http://www.nannymcphee.com/"&gt;Nanny McPhee&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Internal Dialog&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Oh, it's just a few little girls, what the hell?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Ten minutes after the discussion starts with other moms on this movie idea I realize how many girls might actually be able to go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Internal Dialog&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Fuck! What was I thinking?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;We get through cheerleading and go home. The kids start their homework. Ms. P hands me a note from her teacher. It says: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;We have been studying about Ancient China for our January Core Knowledge Unit. The students are to complete a project about Ancient China and bring it to school on Tuesday, January 31st. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Ideas from previous years: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Great Wall of China made from sugar cubes, a Mount Everest cake, kites made from various materials, Yin-Yang cakes....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Internal Dialog&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Yay, one more thing for me to do. Who was the asshole that made a cake in the shape of a mountain? Cake. I'm hungry. What can I get done? I don't know how to make a kite. The Korean Market! I'll run over there this weekend.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thursday:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I run up to school to pick up my son and daughter. I see a couple of my daughter's friends moms and work out the movie thing for Sunday. Three girls plus my daughter. I decide I can handle that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;While up there we walk by the &lt;a href="http://www.pontiac.com/solstice/index.jsp"&gt;silly car&lt;/a&gt; that the auction committee is showing off. One of the committee members is happy to tell me how I should buy a key chain for $100. It may hold the key that will start that car and it would be mine all mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Internal Dialog&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;That is a silly car. $100 for a key chain. Huh. I like her skirt. I need to lose some weight so I can wear skirts like that. I'll bet she got that at &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="https://www.thelimeleopard.com/xcart/entersite.html"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lime Leopard&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;. I love that skirt.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;She keeps talking about how the money is going for many wonderful things for the school. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Internal Dialog&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Ya know, whoever did her lips did a bad job. They are saggy. Huh. You can really tell where she gets botoxed. She's really laying it on, she wouldn't be giving me the time of day if she knew I won't buy a key chain from her. I do love that skirt.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Friday:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I try to complete my to-do list. I don't get close.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Internal Dialog&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Damn, I need to get organized.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saturday:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Still working on that to-do list. Still don't get close. I talked to my brother for three hours about life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Internal Dialog&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;My brother is so cute!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sunday:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I realize that I have totally forgotten about the China project that Ms. P must *air quotes* do *air quotes* by Tuesday. I look through all of my craft stuff and try to figure out how I can do some sort of dragon thing. I decide I must go get more stuff at some point.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Internal Dialog&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Fuck.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I then take my daughter and three of her friends to see &lt;a href="http://www.nannymcphee.com/"&gt;Nanny McPhee&lt;/a&gt;. I get to sit back and witness the dawning of the wackiness that will be giggly teenage girls. And I get to watch the always adorable Colin Firth. I am surprised at how good the movie is. I cry at the end. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Internal Dialog&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Colin. Firth.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;After the movie, I take the girls to &lt;a href="http://www.hideawaypizza.com/"&gt;Hideaway Pizza&lt;/a&gt;. I am shocked at how fast four 8-year-olds can consume approximately 20 giant cheese sticks and a large cheese pizza. I notice how adorable our server is. He is charming and I enjoy watching him walk away. A. Lot. I then realize that I am probably old enough to be his mother - and not in a backwoods sort of way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Internal Dialog&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;AAAAAAAAHHHHH!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Monday:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;My husband is up early getting ready to get out of town. Our six-year-old announces that his throat hurts. He doesn't seem sick and we usually have some bid for attention before Dad leaves. Saw decides he is fine. I take the kids to school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Internal Dialog&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;I should get something done. Oh Shit! Ms. P's China project!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I zip over to the&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;Korean Market. It's one of the coolest stores on the planet. At this point, I don't have a clue what to do. Then I see it....a beautiful teapot! And loads of little teacups! Ms. P can serve tea. And then the kids can all take the cups home as a souvenir. Yay! I am brilliant! I have no idea if the writing on the cups is in Korean or Chinese. I figure if Ms. P's teacher knows, then my daughter should have been writing her name in Chinese by now. I have a brief moment of guilt because I don't know if it's Chinese. If it's Korean, are we cheating? Damn! &lt;a href="http://http://metrodad.typepad.com/"&gt;Metro Dad&lt;/a&gt; needs to have a hotline! But it would probably be clogged up with punctuation questions. Then I spy a darling little outfit for Ms. P. I have completed her project. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I run to pick up my six-year-old from Kindergarten. He tells me that his throat still hurts. That's not good. He still doesn't seem like he's getting sick. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Internal Dialog&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Well, maybe it's allergies. I am so not in the mood to go to the Doctor's office on a Monday.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Later, I run to pick up my older kids. My six-year-old falls asleep on the way. That's not good. Now he seems like he's getting sick.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Internal Dialog&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;He doesn't seem to have a fever. I am so not in the mood to run to the Doctor's just to be told it's a virus and there's nothing they can do.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Ten minutes after we get home, my six-year-old comes in to my room whining about how his throat really hurts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Internal Dialog&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Damn. If I don't take him to the Doctor's he will end up being deathly ill. If I take him now will it be too soon to get a good strep test? Would it be better to take him in the morning? Could it be strep? He doesn't seem to have any other symptoms. What if it's a cold?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;My six-year-old starts to cry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Internal Dialog&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Damn.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I call the Doctor's office and get an appointment. I load up the kids and buzz through 5 o'clock traffic and zoom into the Doctor's office just to discover that EVERYONE is there to get strep tests.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Internal Dialog&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Where can we sit? Bingo! That chick just got called in. I got the chair! I win! You don't need this chair, you big doof of a man! I am holding a 62 pound child. I need to sit. Aw, should I give up the chair for the chick with the baby? Naw, she's got a carrier. My kid's bigger than your kid. Neener, neener, neener! Saw's passed out. Damn, he's gotten heavy. Ugh. I'm bored. The kid's are bored. We have played all of the games on my cell phone. I have never had to wait 45 minutes to get back to a room before. Amazing. I bet it's strep. I AM SOOOO glad I decided to bring him. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;We finally get called back to a room. Saw gets a strep test. It comes back positive. He is still in good spirits for the most part. I am hopeful that we have caught it early and he won't get too sick. After spending two hours at the Doctor's office, we are glad to get out of there. We drop off Saw's prescription and get dinner. Saw is still acting ok and eats heartily. We go pick up his prescription. I give him a dose and put him to bed. All is quiet in the house...until Saw lets out this horrible mewing sound. I go check on him. He is raging with fever even on Motrin. The strep has officially entered the building and he is one sick puppy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Internal Dialog&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Oh. Thank. You. God. For. The. Go. To. The. Doctor's. Office. Momma. Feeling! Oh, I would have felt sooooo bad if I hadn't taken him! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tuesday:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Arumph. No one has gotten any sleep. Everyone is tired. I feel like the beginning of this day is like those scenes in movies where the Epic Battle has just occurred. Our morning was the scene right after that where the survivors crawl out into the daylight and murmur, "what happened?" Saw cried off and on all night. I am trying to get my older kids ready for school. I spend waaay too much time trying to figure out how many green tea bags will it take to make a gallon to tea for Ms. P. to serve. She puts on her little outfit. She is just too cute! I decide I must take a picture. Saw is crying because his throat hurts. He is refusing to swallow so he keeps running to the bathroom to spit. He wants to call his dad. I hand him my cell phone so that he can just keep talking when we get in the car. He starts to talk to his dad and walks away. I am determined to take a picture of Ms. P:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/320/ChinaGirl.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Isn't she ADORABLE!?! So, then Saw walks up to me, still crying and hands me my dripping wet cell phone. He had dropped it in the toilet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Internal Dialog&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;FUCK! SHIT! ARRRGH! What do I do??!!?!!? FUUUUUUCCCKKK!!!!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I proceed to take my phone apart and hope it dries out. I get the kids out the door and to school. Saw and I return home. He announces that the house must be quiet for him. He passes out:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/320/SickBoy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I call my husband. We discuss all of my phone options. We debate the whole Slider vs. Razr thing. He orders me a Razr. My husband tells me it's for my birthday. Then he ponders getting a new phone for himself. I decide that if he gets a new phone then my phone doesn't count as a present. We will see how this turns out soon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-113876518337262492?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/113876518337262492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=113876518337262492&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113876518337262492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113876518337262492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2006/01/china-strep-throat-toilets-oh-my.html' title='China, Strep Throat &amp; Toilets - Oh, My!'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-113659606818909986</id><published>2006-01-06T18:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:37.714-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My guilty pleasure is back!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I am very happy. My favorite t.v. lineup is back on. You may think I am sad, but I have watch. I can't do anything else!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;My favorite show is &lt;a href="http://www.scifi.com/battlestar/"&gt;Battlestar Galactica&lt;/a&gt;. The second season resumes tonight. Yea! I have so waiting to see Commander Adama kick some serious ASS. Bwah ha ha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;To add to my happiness, &lt;a href="http://www.scifi.com/stargate/"&gt;SG-1&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.scifi.com/atlantis/"&gt;Stargate Atlantis&lt;/a&gt; will resume tonight as well. Yea! Yea! Yea!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;And the cherry on top is that SciFi has had a &lt;a href="http://www.scifispace.com/html/firefly.php"&gt;Firefly&lt;/a&gt; marathon ALL DAY LONG. This has kept me from doing anything meaningful, other than keep my children alive. If you like Firefly or you have seen Serenity then you will so enjoy &lt;a href="http://www.swartzer.com/writing/serenity2000.php"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THIS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Now I must go watch SG-1.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-113659606818909986?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/113659606818909986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=113659606818909986&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113659606818909986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113659606818909986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2006/01/my-guilty-pleasure-is-back.html' title='My guilty pleasure is back!'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-113642802211365678</id><published>2006-01-04T20:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:37.643-05:00</updated><title type='text'>quote of the day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I had the following conversation with my six-year-old:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mom, can I have an orange?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Sure, I'll get it in a minute.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Can I peel it?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Yes, I'll get it started for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why can't I start it?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Because you aren't allowed to use knives.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Can I use a butter knife?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Maybe, for some things, under my supervision.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Can you see through stuff with your supervision?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;har! har! snort! I love being a mom!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-113642802211365678?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/113642802211365678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=113642802211365678&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113642802211365678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113642802211365678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2006/01/quote-of-day.html' title='quote of the day'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-113564479104842353</id><published>2005-12-26T17:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:37.282-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ms. P's Christmas List</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas holiday! Even if you don't celebrate Christmas, I still hope you had a lovely weekend. We finally got through all of the &lt;em&gt;&lt;air&gt;&lt;/em&gt;interesting&lt;em&gt;&lt;air&gt;&lt;/em&gt; family get-togethers and we are DONE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I have to share one of my favorite moments of the weekend. My youngest son and my daughter still believe in Santa. I think my daughter knows better, but she won't admit it yet. On Friday they came to me with lists for Santa. What was this? They had added to their lists and wanted to leave them for Santa by the fireplace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I explained to them that Santa was loading up the sleigh and it was too late to ask Santa for more stuff. The Santa deadline for ordering was December 15th and he was way too busy to make more stuff. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;My son bought this and was fine with it. My daughter sat there and argued with me. She wanted to add a pink violin (a horrible Barbie pink monstrosity) to what she wanted. What Santa already knew was that she wanted a Nintendo DS with Nintedogs - the chihuahua version - and Santa was smart enough to go ahead and pick up those at the beginning of December. I explained that what she had asked for was a "big" gift and that Santa was being generous bringing that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;She wasn't going for that. Oh no, the Nintendo was a small item so she should get two Santa gifts. I told her no, the DS was &lt;em&gt;expensive&lt;/em&gt; and that it was a large gift from that perspective and that she should be happy with that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"No, it can't be expensive. It's small and made by elves."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Yes, it is still expensive for Santa to make because the elves still order the parts from the same place and Santa has to pay for licensing fees to reproduce the Nintendo DS."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"So Santa won't bring me the violin because he has to pay licensing fees."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Yes. Why do you want a pink violin?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Because it will be fun to play! I could play it all of the time and get really good."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"I am sure you would play the violin really well if you tried and if you want to start playing the violin then why don't we get you a real one and you can take lessons."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"I want the Barbie violin."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"I will guarantee you that Santa will not bring you that. It's too late."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Fine, I'll get it for Kwanza."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-113564479104842353?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/113564479104842353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=113564479104842353&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113564479104842353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113564479104842353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/12/ms-ps-christmas-list.html' title='Ms. P&apos;s Christmas List'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-113470490336519275</id><published>2005-12-15T21:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:36.916-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Countdown</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I feel like I am running around like a crazy woman and getting nothing done! I am both looking forward to Christmas and having it over with. Here's an update:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Bug - Still alive (BTW, it is a beetle and not a roach. THERE ARE NO ROACHES HERE! Or I would move. Roaches are a huge phobia for me.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Eggnog Latte Count - 17 (We're having the occasional two a days. I spent a lot of time in the car lately.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Christmas Shopping - Soooooo not done.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I was really going to the bah humbug level, then I got &lt;a href="http://bitemycookie.typepad.com/main/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;cookies&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and now all is well with my world. People are so nice, really they are! And BMC is a KickAssRockingChick and she has my adoration! I wish for you all a lovely surprise in the mail and a wonderful week!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-113470490336519275?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/113470490336519275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=113470490336519275&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113470490336519275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113470490336519275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/12/christmas-countdown.html' title='Christmas Countdown'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-113441828278205283</id><published>2005-12-12T13:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T20:58:42.416-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I've got a bug up my ass...</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/320/DamnBug.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/1600/DamnBug.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Some things are just a bad idea. Sending home a bug with someone's kid is one of them. What the hell do I do with THIS? I understand the IDEA of teaching my child about the "&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.thewildones.org/Curric/mealworm.html"&gt;Circle of Life&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;" and all of that crap. That's what I am PAYING you for. But WHYYEEE would you have my child NAME the flippin' thing and SEND IT HOOOOMMMMEEE??!!!?!?!?!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Meet Bugalou. Yup, I spelled that right. My daughter, my sweet, animal-loving 2nd grader, was very particular about the name of this creature. I met Bugalou about a month-and-a-half ago when Ms. P. jumped in the van during car pool and announced that she has a new "pet" to take care of. I turned to see a baby food jar with corn meal and a brown bug in it. Yech. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Ms. P. informed me that she had raised him since he was a baby and that he was very smart. She was in lurrve - with this damn bug. Being the kind and gentle mom that I am, I thought to myself, "well, how long can this thing live?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Apparently - FOREVER!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I didn't know what to do with it (him? her? it? sheit?) so I did the only thing I know to do...I called &lt;a href="http://moderatelymodernmommy.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mabel&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. She is brilliant, and a science teacher! She'll know what to do! After the intial giggling at my predicament (because she is soooo sensitive to my emotions!) she tells me how to take care of this new addition to our little family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;So I have followed her wise counsel and have given the bug fresh oats and apples. Mabel also said that sheit should only live about 30 days. Yea, lucky me, I have a spritey bug. A spiteful bug. A bug that just won't DIE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I have pondered just setting sheit "free" outside with much pomp and circumstance for my daughter, but she is smart enough to know that sheit would die in the cold weather. She checks on sheit every day. I keep hoping that I will walk into the kitchen and find that sheit has gone on to bug heaven, but &lt;em&gt;NO&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;And now, I feel RESPONSIBLE for this creature. I feel guilty when I don't put in fresh apples. I feel bad if the bug is left too close to the window and it's too bright. I feel BAD. What is up with &lt;em&gt;THAT&lt;/em&gt;?!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Now hide and watch, when the damn thing does die, I will probably cry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-113441828278205283?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/113441828278205283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=113441828278205283&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113441828278205283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113441828278205283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/12/ive-got-bug-up-my-ass.html' title='I&apos;ve got a bug up my ass...'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-113371807957125952</id><published>2005-12-04T10:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:34.323-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How do you do it?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I can't seem to get my shit together. I used to be organized. Before I had children I had a "real" job and I was great at it. I could keep 15 projects going at once. I knew where each one was at all times. I knew how to get my jobs printed even if I missed my press time. I had art files on each job and I was meticulous on organizing them. I could answer any question by any client at any time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Now, 10 years later, I am a wreck. I have to keep track of my kids and their various activities. And I am trying to keep my house together. I can't get it all done and it is driving me INSANE! I have piles of crap everywhere. I can't quite get them all put away. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;My kids work against me. I have to threaten them with torture to get them to put anything away. I am considering the drastic action of the eBay mom who sold everything her family left on the floor for a week:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mom sells family's stuff on eBay.&lt;/strong&gt; Jessica Schickel got sick and tired of picking up after her husband and two children. To teach them a lesson, she collected everything they left out for one week, and auctioned the contents on eBay. The winning bidder offered to give Schickel the items and her bid of more than $300, but Schickel is going to donate it all to charity.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Yeah, I wish I had thought of that!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I am trying to work from home. My husband is now working in another state during the week (a &lt;em&gt;very&lt;/em&gt; long story!) so I have to get it together or I will lose a kid or a dog in the mess. I would love to get my business off of the ground, but that seems to always be the last thing I get to during the day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I am considering the fact that I may be ADD. I don't know. Or I am just a sad case of Super Inorganization and I need an intervention. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I know there are lots of people who pull off working and keeping their home well. How do you do it? I am open to all suggestions. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-113371807957125952?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/113371807957125952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=113371807957125952&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113371807957125952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113371807957125952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/12/how-do-you-do-it.html' title='How do you do it?'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-113345448331207764</id><published>2005-12-01T10:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:34.252-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Eggnog Latte Count</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Grande - 9&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Venti - 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Days left to drink Eggnog Lattes - 24&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Pounds gained - I don't even want to know!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Damn you Starbucks!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-113345448331207764?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/113345448331207764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=113345448331207764&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113345448331207764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113345448331207764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/12/eggnog-latte-count.html' title='Eggnog Latte Count'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-113285593786283897</id><published>2005-11-24T12:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:33.900-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Thanksgiving!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/1600/Placecard1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/320/Placecard1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I hope you all enjoy a beautiful holiday! I am thankful that I have gotten to know you - even if it's just a little bit. Be safe and eat well!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Love, Gina&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-113285593786283897?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/113285593786283897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=113285593786283897&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113285593786283897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113285593786283897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/11/happy-thanksgiving.html' title='Happy Thanksgiving!'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-113281327937573689</id><published>2005-11-23T23:32:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:33.840-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Holidays have arrived</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;We have many lovely Thanksgiving traditions! We always have dinner at my MIL's on Friday. I am still the only person who watches the Macy's Parade. I can't quite figure out how to stage the cooking to be done at the same time. Oh, and my personal favorite, there is always a child who is sick or needs stitches.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;This year we went for.....PINK EYE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I didn't notice anything wrong with Saw until right after my daughter's playdate left! Yup! I am that lucky. Nothing more fun than calling another mom on a Holiday weekend and telling them their child has been exposed to a nasty looking, highly contagious thing just in time for the family photos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I knew what it was and didn't think anything was too horrible. My husband called his sister, mother of five children, to see if they had any pink eye drops they could share. She did so we put some stuff in and sent the boy to bed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Let me explain that we have had this here a few times. There's gunk, the eye is red, the drops fix them right up, and we all move on. But! I should have remembered it's a holiday week! Or I would have been prepared for what I discovered this morning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I go in to wake up Saw expecting to see a gunky eye like I have before. He was peacefully curled up in a ball and I could not see the offending eye. I gently roll him over to see where we are at and I had to take a step back. His eye was the size of a friggin golf ball! It was hugely swollen and a lovely dark blue. His lid was stuck shut with bright orange gunk. Did you know that we could make BRIGHT ORANGE gunk? I didn't know this. This was new. After three kids and 10 years anything new kinda freaks you out!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I immediately thought "OOOHMYGAAAWWWDDDD! My child has something horrible and I didn't take it seriously enough! Oh, I am a horrible mother! What if there's glass in there? What if it's a strange tropical disease! What if he looses his eye because I was so blase? Whhhyyyyeeee?!?!?!" Outwardly, I remained calm and explained to my son why he couldn't open up his eye and that he wasn't blind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;My husband comes waltzing in and jumps back. He said that maybe the boy should go to the doctor! Now I am really freaking. If my husband thinks they should go, then they look pretty damn bad! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I finally got off permahold with the receptionist and got an appointment. I am greatly relieved. I get everyone loaded up and we rush up there to be on time. Saw is scaring people as we walk in. Peri is explaining to people that he's got THE PINK EYE like it's some sort of magical power. We get our paperwork and go back to the waiting room. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Sitting in the waiting room of my pediatrician's office is not always horrible. Today was kind of fun because I had the scariest child! It was finally my turn again. As we were walking down the hall I explained to Saw that he couldn't touch anything or anybody so he wouldn't get them sick. There is always at least one baby there and Sawyer likes to talk to them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I am walking into this room with a child who has a giant, freakish, red, puffy eye oozing bizarre gunk. Today was apparently BABY DAY at the doc's office! Not one, not two, but FIVE babies in this little room. Two were a set of twins so there were only four mothers holding their little babies in terror at the monstrosity that stood before them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Of course, every one of them were first timers so there was plenty of thick fear in the air. The only other parent was a dad with his older son. He didn't bother to even look up from his paper. Typical!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;I sat off to the side with my kids. I made Saw sit on the floor waaaaay far away from the babies. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;After a couple of minutes of shared looks between the four of them, I could no longer take it. I turned to them and explained that he had pink eye and it was contagious, but that I would not let him get near any of them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;They all warily settled down, but I could see the wheels a-turning in their tired little heads. I used to think that way when I had my first child... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Oh my gawd, that woman let her kid get a horrible disease! And it's nasty! I will never let that happen to my child!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I looked at them, as they were called away one by one, and remembered how it was. Then I had a good mental giggle and guffaw and held my freak of a son's hand!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;So after all of this, it was pink eye. He looks better already and I even got samples! &lt;a href="http://musingsofstressedoutmom.blogspot.com/2005/11/free-drugs-you-cant-beat-that-with.html"&gt;Crouching Mommy&lt;/a&gt; would be sooo proud!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-113281327937573689?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/113281327937573689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=113281327937573689&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113281327937573689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113281327937573689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/11/holidays-have-arrived.html' title='The Holidays have arrived'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-113242664802761938</id><published>2005-11-19T12:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:33.638-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Children v.2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;must. not. kick. out. children!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I think I am pms-ing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-113242664802761938?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/113242664802761938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=113242664802761938&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113242664802761938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113242664802761938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/11/children-v2.html' title='Children v.2'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-113241713709222688</id><published>2005-11-19T09:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:33.569-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Children bring such joy!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I just want to cry sometimes. I had to throw down the gauntlet and tell my kids to STOP TRASHING MY STUFF. Now they are not complete little heathens, but they are close. My van, my poor van, is a nasty mess. Spots from dropped drinks and candy are all over it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Then there is the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/11/i-want-to-keep-this-door-please.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;DOOR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt; issue. We have spent the week remembering that that particular door is BROKEN. The service guys managed to put it back on and we all have respected this - until yesterday. My son, the anal, bossy one, forgot about said door and when I parked the van, he pops up and promptly opens the broken door and allows it to go KAWAP. I was watching this in slow motion unable to stop it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;The door now cannot be closed. I tried to get it back on its tracks and shut it, but I couldn't. So the door is barely hanging on. While I was trying to do this, I was on the phone with my sweet friend Lisa discussing our school options (VERY important at this point) and my goofy 10-year-old is running around yelling "I'm sorry! I will pay for the damages!" I glared at him to get him to hush. I finished my phone call with Lisa and I tried in vain again to shut the door. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;No luck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;We went inside and my other kids were doing the classic "oooohhhh, you are sooooo in troooouuuubbble!" thing to oldest son, who was not amused by this. He is a really good kid so I can't be too mad at him, but whyyyyeeee can't he use his head and THINK?!? sometimes? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;There is that little line that all of us have. On one side is mild annoyance and on the other side is OHMYGAAAAAWWWWWD! I was waaaayyy over on the OMG side at the moment I walked into the house. I do try very hard not to lose it with my kids so I calmly walked into the kitchen to put the backpacks and lunchboxes away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;My forgetful son walks in behind me and says again "I will pay for all of the damages!" in a very sad voice. I had to laugh at that moment. How will you pay for it? With what? I asked him if he had a new job I didn't know about. Was he sneaking out at night to work the graveyard shift? Was he running a fabulously successful dot.com from the school's computer lab? Did he marry some rich girl and I hadn't noticed? Pay for the damages. har har snort!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;So now we have to figure out how to run our weekend. We can't drive around in the van and hope the door doesn't completely fall off in the middle of the street. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;We will have to see if the just arrived husband can figure out how to get the door back on or we are down to one car. Of course there are birthday parties for my daughter to attend. And other errands to take care of. What a pain in the ass! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;The soonest the dealership (the body shop said it would take two weeks) could get the van in was Monday. The kids only had to be careful until then, but NOOOOOOO, someone had to forget. Ugh! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;This is definitely one of those stories I am saving for when my kids have their own children!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-113241713709222688?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/113241713709222688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=113241713709222688&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113241713709222688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113241713709222688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/11/children-bring-such-joy.html' title='Children bring such joy!'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-113203261264657464</id><published>2005-11-14T23:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:33.364-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I want to keep this door please!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;My kids figured out how to break the door off of our minivan. We have to park on a hill and a couple of years of opening the side door and just letting it go "kawap" all of the time took its toll and killed the roller. I took it into the dealership to see how much it was going to be to fix it. The first thing out of the service guy's mouth was "I haven't ever seen this before! I have no idea how to fix this, but I am sure I will figure it out." That instilled so much confidence in me. I decided to get a second opinion at a body shop. Hopefully they have done this sort of thing before and I will be able to drive down the highway without fearing that the side of my mom-mobile won't fly off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-113203261264657464?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/113203261264657464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=113203261264657464&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113203261264657464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113203261264657464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/11/i-want-to-keep-this-door-please.html' title='I want to keep this door please!'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-113142582314479184</id><published>2005-11-08T23:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T20:44:16.304-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I paint, therefore I avoid my crazy family</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I am using the excuse of having too many projects to avoid having Thanksgiving Dinner at my house this year. I had it last year, I should be off the hook for at least three years. I have too much stuff to paint to clean up everything and have all of those cranky people here. I know that I am not the only person to have relatives that are INSANE, but when they're at my house, it feels that way. I could go on and on, but I will save it for right after the holiday so that I can bitch about current events.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I have been trying to catch up on my pottery. I usually have stuff listed on &lt;a href="http://stores.ebay.com/Blend-Art-and-Home_W0QQstorecachemissZblendartandhomeQQtZkm"&gt;eBay&lt;/a&gt; and do a couple of shows, but that hasn't quite worked out this Fall. I need to get organized! I have slacked off on all of my projects. I am going to do better and get all of this stuff done before Christmas. Oh, or maybe right after Christmas so I don't have to have that here either!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Earlier I was showing off my class project handywork. I didn't throw those jars. I would love to take that kind of credit but I don't have time to throw right now. Those jars are just that plain bisque like you would paint at those paint-it-yourself places. Any of you could do it! Kid's fingerprints always make them precious.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Maybe later I will get a wheel and start doing that again, but right now I just use my slab roller. I use hump and slump molds to make my platters and bowls. A couple of years ago I started making hearts for my friends and they have taken off. I make lots of those now. I have a bunch I need to get painted and fired in my dining room right now. I love making them. They are my therapy along with my daily call to &lt;a href="http://moderatelymodernmommy.blogspot.com/"&gt;Mabel&lt;/a&gt;. They are like a magic 8 ball. If you are down and you need a pick-me-up you just reach into a bowl of these and pick one out. If you would like your own set of hearts just email me your address and I will send you some. It's the least I can do for all of my 12 readers!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;This is what I do actually make myself: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/320/PotteryPic1.2.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/320/PotteryPic3.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/320/PotteryPic2.0.gif" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I love polka dots and stripes - it's a personality flaw - I know!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/320/PotteryPic4.4.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; I have done a few weddings lately. These are some favors I did for a wedding last June...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/320/PotteryPic6.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://thegrassaintgreener.typepad.com/thegrassaintgreener/"&gt;Heidi&lt;/a&gt;, email me the colors you like and I will whip up some hip stuff - nothing foofy. I will make more big pieces this weekend. I don't have anything left to take pictures of. Yea, I'll spend Thanksgiving making dishes. That would be lovely!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;In the earlier &lt;a href="http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/10/halloween-festivis-recap.html"&gt;post&lt;/a&gt; I ranted about some of the moms up school. I did want to say that there are only three that irk me to no end because they are a little pack of arrogant wenches. They don't do anything, they just have an opinion about those who do. That is one of my biggest pet peeves. If you are helping, you can have an opinion. If you don't do anything but show up, then keep your mouth shut about how things were done. Telling me or the other moms who spent all day up at school getting stuff ready for an event how we could have done it better will only make me want to throttle you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Most of the moms are great. We have a lot of parent participation, even with all of the drama going on up there. There are the typical ones that are too busy to be bothered - both working and SAH. The only working moms that piss me off are the ones that assume I am not doing anything all day because I don't go to an office. I have a great respect for the working moms who also show up at school. I wanted to clarify that, &lt;a href="http://musingsofstressedoutmom.blogspot.com/"&gt;Crouching Mommy&lt;/a&gt; has some moms that &lt;a href="http://musingsofstressedoutmom.blogspot.com/2005/11/world-loves-wannabes-so-hey-do-that.html"&gt;irk&lt;/a&gt; her, too. After reading her post I am proud to say that I do not own any seasonal vests, I can't speak for &lt;a href="http://moderatelymodernmommy.blogspot.com/"&gt;Mable&lt;/a&gt; though. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-113142582314479184?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/113142582314479184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=113142582314479184&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113142582314479184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113142582314479184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/11/i-paint-therefore-i-avoid-my-crazy.html' title='I paint, therefore I avoid my crazy family'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-113123368410683859</id><published>2005-11-05T16:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T20:43:05.769-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Mabel!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/1600/MeAndMabel.3.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/400/MeAndMabel.4.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;strong&gt;Gertie and Mabel - 1988&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;em&gt;She is a friend of my mind...The pieces I am she gather them and &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;em&gt;give them back to me in all the right order. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;em&gt;                                                    - Toni Morrison&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Today &lt;a href="http://moderatelymodernmommy.blogspot.com/"&gt;Mabel&lt;/a&gt; enters her 39th year. And we enter the 20th year of our friendship. She is my wonderful, sweet, brilliant, darling friend. I cannot imagine my life without her. She is my connection to reality. My compass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Mabel didn't like me at first. I walked up to her and started talking. She tried to walk away and I followed her still talking, too oblivious to realize that she thought I was a dingbat. She realized that she couldn't shed me and accepted her fate. She became my friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;God brought us together when we were both going through some very rough times. Polar opposites that fit together to form a union of friendship, loyalty, and trust. We came from very different lives, but at that moment we were on the same level and could totally understand each other when no one else could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;There are millions of moments I can think of with Mabel. Being roommates in several crappy apartments. Crying together over stupid boys. Mabel and I teaching others the fine art of jumping in the fountains downtown and charming the cops that stopped by to let us. Each of us eating an entire pint of vanilla Hagen-Daz ice cream with frosted animal crackers while watching movies. Driving around in her P-O-S orange car with the windows rolled down laughing our asses off. Playing New Order or The Cure as loud as we could and singing along. Wherever we were, we could always get everyone else to dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Oh, we had soooo much fun. And we took care of each other. Even when we fought and weren't speaking to each other we still kept tabs on what the other one was doing. The way we always made up after a fight was that one of us would show up or call the other one to talk about something that was going on. We couldn't stand not to have an opinion about what was going on with each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Mabel became a grown-up long before I did. She still put up with me and mothered me a lot. She finished school and got her teaching degree. She got married. She moved to another state to start her career. We still occasionally talked. But there was a distance while we transitioned. This is where most people would stop being friends. But we still were, even without speaking. We went a long time until one day she just felt like she should call. I was going through a strange time in my life and her timing was perfect. I really needed her. We went from not speaking for three years to talking every day again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;She just knows when I need something. She will call me right when I am going to call her and cry on her shoulder. When I had a horrible miscarriage, I called her from the hospital collect and she listened to me cry without saying a word for 45 minutes. She helps me formulate my thoughts and she listens to what I am really saying. She once drove six hours out of her way with her husband in tow on her way back home from a cross country trip to check on me in person because I sounded funny on the phone. In spite of what I am saying she always knows what's really going on with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;She has been a constant source of love for me. I don't feel I could ever do enough for her. I try very hard to be a good friend to her. I do my best to remind her that she is doing a great job in her life. She is a psychotic perfectionist. She gets mad at herself for not figuring out stuff that takes other people years to get in 10 minutes. She will look at something and figure out a plan immediately. She manages to do more things in a day than most people while taking care of three kids by herself and then bitch that she isn't doing enough. That's why I get to be her friend. I remind her that she is doing enough and that she doesn't have to have everything perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;When we became friends, we were just babies. Then we grew up and had babies. During the next twenty years we get to watch our babies grow up. We are Aunties to each others children and we each know all of their stories. Our children have two moms. I am comforted to know that if anything were to happen to me, my children will still have me. Mabel will keep my spirit around for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I wish I could do more for you Ms. Mabel. You are the best friend that I have ever had and I adore you. Thank you for taking care of me, listening to me, and being there for me. You are truly a wonderful person and the world is a better place because you are in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Happy Birthday!&lt;br /&gt;Love, Gertie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-113123368410683859?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/113123368410683859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=113123368410683859&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113123368410683859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113123368410683859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/11/happy-birthday-mabel.html' title='Happy Birthday Mabel!'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-113082298411571670</id><published>2005-10-31T22:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:32.955-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween Festivis Recap</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Halloween and all of the crap that goes with it is finally over. It's funny how I used to look forward to the parties and fun. Now it's always a gigantic planning odyssey. Ugh! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Fall Fest was great for the kids. Most of the parents stood around in little groups bitching about how bad off the school was and gossiping about who was leaving. The auction projects came out well - thank the Lord! I managed to get the auction done, run the Kindergarten games and not throw up. Always a good thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Here are a couple of the auction thingies I got done. Now - please understand that the goal is to have the kids on there somehow. Preschool is hard because they are like grabbing a chicken to get something done and the Kindergartners are not much better, but they can write their name. So please, super ubber hip chicks - no mocking. If and when you decide to have children and they get into school there will be many auctions and fundraisers that you will be just as wacky about as I am. And when you get there, you will have my pity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/320/Blog1.3.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/320/Blog2.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;The moms who are already there understand the fingerprint process. In, out, relatively painless. Throw on some details at home and you're good to go. The grandparents always eat this junk up!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I did find out something deep about myself on Saturday. During the Fall Fest, not one, not two, but FOUR people didn't know who I was. The reason? I wasn't wearing a hat. Isn't that pathetic? I am always in sweats and a baseball hat. I don't wear makeup very often. Honestly it's not a "awww - isn't she a sad freak woman" thing. It's just that I work at home. Half of the time I am painting something or making pottery. So I don't see the need to wear makeup if I am in my "work" clothes. I can fix my hair, but I hate it in my face so I wear the hat to keep it out of my face and to keep paint out of it. I do go to school from time to time with my hair fixed and makeup on. But apparently, not often enough.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I really didn't think it made that much of a difference in the ability to recognize me. Gawd, some of these people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I can dress up if I feel compelled to. I just don't that often. And yes &lt;a href="http://crazyvirgo.typepad.com/"&gt;Crazy Virgo&lt;/a&gt; (I'm so sorry about Molly!) - I occasionally wear sweater sets. They are required at Tea Socials. So here is a picture of me with my son. I am wearing makeup and I bothered to fix my hair. Apparently this is a rare thing so I am posting this as proof that it can happen. It is highly likely that if I ever meet or run into any of you that I will be in sweats and have a hat on. Probably the pink Oklahoma State one. That &lt;a href="http://watchoutfortheflyingmonkeys.blogspot.com/"&gt;Mabel&lt;/a&gt; bought me.&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/400/FallFest11.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Sunday (back in my hat) we made the DOH! move and took the kids to trick or treat at the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.okczoo.com/even_deta.htm?id=2462920"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Zoo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;. We had our three plus three more. Six kids to keep track of in the middle of 13,000 people. Yup, 13,000 people. That had to be one of the stupidest things we have ever done. Of course the kids had a great time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Today my two youngest went trick or treating in a large office building next to their school. And tonight we went through our favorite neighborhood. We have so much crap. Bags and bags of crap. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Now that everyone is asleep I am going to go through it all and get all of the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.snickers.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Snickers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt; bars. Tomorrow I get to enjoy taking down all of the Halloween decorations. Which will force me to dust - not my favorite thing. I will be wearing the hat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-113082298411571670?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/113082298411571670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=113082298411571670&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113082298411571670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113082298411571670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/10/halloween-festivis-recap.html' title='Halloween Festivis Recap'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-113056166931517980</id><published>2005-10-28T23:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:32.895-05:00</updated><title type='text'>TypePad should listen to Bite My Cookie!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;This week has been awful. We have our Fall Fest at school tomorrow. Thank GOD it's about over. We have a little auction of class projects to cover the cost of this neato little event and I have done 3 of them this week. Three cookie jars with fingerprints all over them. And I have been so sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why I only get deathly ill when I have a shitload of things to do - I don't know. I never get this sick when I can take the good stuff and sleep for twelve hours. I am a light weight when I take any kind of medication. I got to enjoy painting details on these cookie jars when I really couldn't see straight. Then I glazed them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea WHAT they are gonna look like when they come out of the kiln tomorrow. I hope they are fine because I have reached that special place where I keep all of my psychotic bitchiness and I am so willing to tell a couple of the other mothers at school what I really think of them if they have anything to say about the quality of my projects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's getting ugly up there. We were pondering moving to another part of the city so that the kids could go to a good public school. But Monday my husband was offered a job he has been interviewing for since August. Yea. So we get to move to Dallas and get the kids out of that place. I should probably keep my mouth shut. For a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That will give me time to practice my rants so they come out really clever. I need to. I don't think they would get where I was coming from if I just stand there and scream YOU JACKASS WHORES at them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, I'm a lady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I can figure out how to sound as good as &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bitemycookie.typepad.com/main/2005/10/game_on_typepad.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Bite My Cookie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt; does. She's pissed at TypePad. They should listen to her. If they don't then I may just have to call them jackass whores, too!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-113056166931517980?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/113056166931517980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=113056166931517980&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113056166931517980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113056166931517980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/10/typepad-should-listen-to-bite-my.html' title='TypePad should listen to Bite My Cookie!'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-113003472877387985</id><published>2005-10-22T21:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:32.705-05:00</updated><title type='text'>gina meme time</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I feel so lucky. I have not been reading blogs for very long and I feel like I found most of the cool chicks already. And a couple of cool boys. And of course they are doing fun and hip stuff. I am having fun following them. I am going to copy them. Maybe some day they will let me sit at their hip chick lunch table. Besides, &lt;a href="http://crazyvirgo.typepad.com/home/"&gt;Crazy Virgo&lt;/a&gt; said we should all do this meme.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;7 Things I Want To Do Before I Die:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;1. Hold all of my grandchildren&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;2. Figure out how to take care of roses and not kill them&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;3. Have a house in London&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;4. Learn how to really paint&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;5. Speak French fluently&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;6. Go shopping all over Europe with &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://watchoutfortheflyingmonkeys.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Mabel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;7. Own an amazing boutique&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;7 Things I Cannot Do:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;1. Cook&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;2. Move gracefully&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;3. Finish something before starting something else&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;4. Math&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;5. Not check every blog on my blog list every day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;6. Not kiss my kids on the head less than 10 times a day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;7. Keep my mouth shut when I am really pissed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;7 Things That Attract Me To The Opposite Sex&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;1. Humor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;2. The ability to be self-deprecating&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;3. A great chest&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;4. Brilliant creativity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;5. An appreciation of clever girls&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;6. Intelligence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;7. Manners&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;7 Things I say most often&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;1. Fuck&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;2. That's a grown-up word - you can't say it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;3. I love you (sweet baby, cookies, daahling, mostest)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;4. Go tell your dad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;5. You are brilliant&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;6. Fucking idiot! Learn how to drive!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;7. Yes, I am still working on the website&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;7 Celebrity Crushes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;1. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000147/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Colin Firth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt; - He has the sexiest walk on the planet and I have adored him since Valmont&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;2. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0654110/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Clive Owen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt; - He just looks like he soooo knows how to kiss&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;3. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://dsc.discovery.com/fansites/dirtyjobs/splash.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Mike Rowe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt; - Wicked sense of humor - always a great thing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;4. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lordoftherings.net/film/cast/ca_vmort.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Viggo Mortensen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt; - But only as Aragorn and only up until he sings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;5. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000141/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;David Duchovney&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt; - and his wife &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000495/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Tea Leoni&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt; for that matter - they are my celebrity couple crush&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;6. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.comedycentral.com/shows/the_daily_show/index.jhtml"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Jon Stewart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt; - Sexy, clever, and brilliant!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;7. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000614/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Alan Rickman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt; - Gorgeous British Man&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;7 favorite foods to eat on the couch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;1. Cheez-Its - they are evil, evil, evil&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;2. Chocolate Chip Cookies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;3. Hershey's Kisses&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;4. Cookie Dough Ice Cream&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;5. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.hideawaypizza.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Hideaway Pizza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;6. Chips and Borden's French Onion Dip&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;7. A bowl of Special K&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Yea! I did it. My first meme about me me. Now git on it Mabel! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-113003472877387985?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/113003472877387985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=113003472877387985&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113003472877387985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/113003472877387985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/10/gina-meme-time.html' title='gina meme time'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-112994941205942837</id><published>2005-10-21T21:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:32.638-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where did this come from?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;A conversation from today:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saw the Super Six Year Old:&lt;/strong&gt; Mom, how do you spell bosom? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; (Caught off guard) Why do you want to know?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saw the Super Six Year Old:&lt;/strong&gt; Is there a Z in it? Is it b-u-z-z-u-m-z?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; Noooo, um it's b-o-s-o-m. When did you hear this? Who was talking about bosoms?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saw the Super Six Year Old:&lt;/strong&gt; What are you so grumpy about?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; I'm not grumpy, I just want to know who was talking about this with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saw the Super Six Year Old:&lt;/strong&gt; It's Grandma, in the booook (exasperated face).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; What book?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saw the Super Six Year Old:&lt;/strong&gt; WHAAAAATTTT ARRRRE YOUUUU SOOO GRUMPYEEEEE AAABBOUUUUTTT (thinks to himself - did Mom bump her head?) You know, the kids get lost in there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; OOOOHHH, yea, &lt;em&gt;What Are You So Grumpy About&lt;/em&gt;. Ok, now I know what is going on. The book I have read to you a hundred times (did I bump my head?).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saw the Super Six Year Old:&lt;/strong&gt; Yea, so b-o-s-o-m. Are you sure there isn't a Z?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; Yup, I'm sure there's no Z in bosom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ms. P:&lt;/strong&gt; (just breezing through the room) Bosom is another word for boobs!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I need a nap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe style="WIDTH: 120px; HEIGHT: 240px" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=fabulousshopp-20&amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;l=as1&amp;amp;asins=0316592366&amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;amp;amp;=1&amp;lc1=0000ff&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;bg1=ffffff&amp;amp;f=ifr" frameborder="0" scrolling="no"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-112994941205942837?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/112994941205942837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=112994941205942837&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/112994941205942837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/112994941205942837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/10/where-did-this-come-from.html' title='Where did this come from?'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-112985374047070840</id><published>2005-10-20T13:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:32.575-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Buzzy's Adventure</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Each child in my son's Kindergarten class gets to spend a week with Buzzy the Bear. Each child is supposed to do something with the bear, take pictures doing stuff with the bear, and then record all of this in Buzzy's Journal. What I love about these cute little assignments is the fact that they cannot be done by the child. So this is actually an assignment for me. Yea. I don't have enough to do anyway - why not!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;The 10 year old had no interest in helping. Ms. P. jumped all over helping Saw and away we went. Thank goodness no one had thought of going to the &lt;a href="http://www.okcmoa.com/"&gt;Oklahoma City Museum of Art&lt;/a&gt; yet. So that is where Buzzy's Adventures begin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;We bebop on in to the museum. We have a membership so I thought we could just slip in really fast, get this done, and move on. I went on this little jaunt dressed in sweats, no make-up on, wearing a ball hat - my loveliest, let me tell ya.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/1600/BuzzyBear1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/320/BuzzyBear1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As we walk in I am horrified to see that a swanky reception is going on in the lobby. I was severely under dressed. And I was dragging two kids with me - the latest in Fall Accessories. Oh well. I get permission from all of the powers that be at the front desk to take pictures in the museum. We can take flash photos in front of the &lt;a href="http://www.okcmoa.com/exhibits_chihulycollection.htm"&gt;Chihuly&lt;/a&gt; glass pieces. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;So here is Buzzy's first photo in the museum. Keep in mind that standing behind me as I shoot this photo are about 200 very well dressed people drinking cocktails. I didn't feel conspicuous at all! The &lt;a href="http://www.okcmoa.com/exhibits_chihuly.htm"&gt;Chihuly Tower&lt;/a&gt; behind the kids is awe inspiring in person. The museum was designed around it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/1600/BuzzyBear2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/320/BuzzyBear2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Interesting side note: DO NOT let your child put their fingers in the water (even a little bit!) around the base of the Tower. It has chemicals in it to keep it clear and pretty and it makes the two museum security people sitting at their little swanky desk up front flip out! They will give you a detailed explanation about this happily in front of two hundred well dressed people that includes looks of disdain and finger pointing. I think the feeling of "why can't you control your children" was just a freebie they threw in.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I wanted one more shot, check out how Saw is NOT putting his fingers in the water and keeping a smart eye on the museum security people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/1600/BuzzyBear3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/320/BuzzyBear3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After that fun little interlude I practically threw the kids in the elevator to go upstairs. Here is Buzzy in a swanky museum elevator. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/1600/Buzzy4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/320/Buzzy4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It is really hard to appreciate how beyond amazing the Chihuly glass pieces are. The pictures just don't do it. But Buzzy did get to see them in person. Now in this shot there is an adorable little man in a Blue Museum Blazer standing behind me making sure I take the picture correctly. Full service is our museum's middle name!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/1600/BuzzyBear5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/320/BuzzyBear5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/1600/BuzzyBear5.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;This is in the hallway in the middle of the exhibit and the ceiling is full of glass pieces. It is soooo cool!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;After this I thought Buzzy could go to the new library across the street. So we got to walk through 200 well dressed people one more time. This time I run into a lovely woman I know and got to chat among the two hundred well dressed people with two children who were ready to go to the library. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Good times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/1600/BuzzyBear6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/320/BuzzyBear6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;The &lt;a href="http://www.metrolibrary.org/Library/DN.htm"&gt;Ronald J. &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.metrolibrary.org/Library/DN.htm"&gt;Norick Downtown Library&lt;/a&gt; is gorgeous and Buzzy was very excited. Here they are out in front after our harrowing adventure crossing the street.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/1600/Buzzy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/320/Buzzy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Finally we made it inside and Buzzy got to see the amazing Children's Library. We just love this place. I think the kids took all of the summer classes this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/1600/BuzzyBear8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/320/BuzzyBear8.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Buzzy was only allowed to check out two books this time. He decided to take his time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/1600/BuzzyBear9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2773/1374/320/BuzzyBear9.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;After a while, I got tired of the book searching and decided we should go home and eat some dinner. In a lame attempt to fill up our share of the book I took this picture with the VERY NICE Officer Perry. This cracked up our daughter Peri and she thought it was cool that she had the same name as a POLICE MAN! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I hope this is enough work for Saw to do! And I hope Mrs. G. thinks he did a good job.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-112985374047070840?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/112985374047070840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=112985374047070840&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/112985374047070840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/112985374047070840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/10/buzzys-adventure.html' title='Buzzy&apos;s Adventure'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-112964793120447902</id><published>2005-10-18T08:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:32.508-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Such a busy chick!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I admit I am a follower. I went to &lt;a href="http://www.cantmakethisstuffup.blogspot.com/"&gt;You can't make this stuff up&lt;/a&gt; today to check in on Marit's adventures and she had done &lt;a href="http://cantmakethisstuffup.blogspot.com/2005/10/what-does-my-name-mean.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;. So, of course, I had to go to &lt;a href="http://www.googlism.com/index.htm"&gt;Googlism&lt;/a&gt; immediately to check out my name....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Apparently I am a porn star&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gina is a 8thstreetlatina trying to f*** her way into america&lt;/strong&gt; si, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do - and do it a lot!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gina is standing in the doggy style pose and laura is ******* her&lt;/strong&gt; just part of the "get into America" plan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gina is f****** for a better life&lt;/strong&gt; is that what I'm doing? I thought I was just married.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gina is pregnant&lt;/strong&gt; no, that ship has sailed far, far away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gina is incredibly cute&lt;/strong&gt; yup, that one's true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gina is gorgeous&lt;/strong&gt; it's like they KNOW me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gina is hard at work recording her demo album under the vision of producers&lt;/strong&gt; I will premiere the video here next spring&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gina is the biggest f****** bitch ever&lt;/strong&gt; omg! they really do know me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gina is a miracle&lt;/strong&gt; I know you all feel that way!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gina is to communicate with an external device such as a smart&lt;/strong&gt; now we're back to the "get into America" plan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gina is so wise; i have to listen carefully to catch her thickened speech&lt;/strong&gt; isn't everyone smarter when they are smashed? I think so!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gina is naive and new in town&lt;/strong&gt; finally, I made it to America, I am tired and sore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gina is a usdf certified instructor and currently has 16 horses and their owners in training at the farm and her day is rounded out with about 10 additional&lt;/strong&gt; and utilizing my skills here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gina is developing a clear sense of who she is and how to use her creative powers with the greatest efficiency&lt;/strong&gt; I make sure all of my porn movies have a fully developed story line and I get them shot in one day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gina is currently working in the active rehabilitation of repetitive overuse injuries&lt;/strong&gt; in the porn industry that's called multi-tasking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gina is to return to bali for a show at the hard rock hotel later this year&lt;/strong&gt; after my studio work is done&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gina is available for private consultations and telepathic communication sessions by phone&lt;/strong&gt; it's like I know YOU&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gina is licensed to practice law in massachusetts and the district of columbia&lt;/strong&gt; I am a smart porn star - just protecting my interests&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gina is going to raise her eyebrow when acting&lt;/strong&gt; the ultimate porn trick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Now go &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.googlism.com/index.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;googlism&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt; yourself and see how busy you are!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-112964793120447902?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/112964793120447902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=112964793120447902&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/112964793120447902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/112964793120447902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/10/such-busy-chick.html' title='Such a busy chick!'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-112949036539080503</id><published>2005-10-16T14:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:32.423-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Safety? PU shaw!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;In my husband's family, I am the obnoxious sister-in-law. He has THREE sisters. It is a party for me, let me tell ya. They are nice enough to my face. We can actually go to his mother's and enjoy Christmas. So I don't bitch a lot. I am restrained and do not tell them my opinion - very much. They are restrained and do not tell me their opinion - to my face. They are nice enough to bitch about me to my husband when I am not around. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;There are a lot of reasons to dislike me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;- I actually decorate my house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;- I buy my clothes at stores other than Walmart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;- I buy my kids clothes at stores other than Walmart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;- I pay more that $15 for a hair cut.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;- I spend time making art.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;- I don't spend enough time selling my art to justify doing it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;- I spend too much time selling my art to justify doing it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;- I have too many rich friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;- I put my kids in private school (actual quote: "Well, if you put them in your neighborhood school and they do get beaten up by thugs, they will learn to toughen up.")&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;- I have not moved to the small town they all live in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;- I don't make my husband do enough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;- I make my husband do too much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;This is my personal favorite: I MAKE MY CHILDREN SIT IN CARSEATS!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Don't you think I am crazy?!? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;These are people who ride around holding a two year old in their lap as they are driving down to the Walmart. Since I gave birth to my son years ago this has been an issue. I would make my in-laws put the baby carrier in the back seat when they were taking him home for a visit. This just chapped my mother-in-law because that forced her to sit back there if she wanted to look at the baby. I am just a worrywart about that silly old airbag!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;My sisters-in-law roll their eyes at me A LOT about this. Today my husband's oldest sister came by to take the kids to the zoo. It was very sweet of her. I don't mind that she hangs out with the kids in spite of the fact that she obviously loathes me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I offered to let her take my van so we wouldn't have to move the seats. She said that she wouldn't feel comfortable driving my car. So then I proceed to go out to get the carseats to put them in her car. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;We have two kids that have to sit in them. They are just booster seats and I don't think they are such big a deal. But to her they are. WHY? Ugh! Again, for the 100th time - Why do they need carseats? Aren't they getting old enough just to sit in the seat?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Well, NO! Ironically, the State of Oklahoma passed a booster seat law last year. The fine is $240 if a child under 5' or under 80 pounds is not in a booster seat. The LAW is on my side. Austin, our oldest is tall enough and weighs enough to get out of the booster. But Ms. P only weighs 68 pound and is 4'4" tall. And of course, Saw is only in Kindergarten and has a good two or three years left in his seat. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Why, honestly, would you care if you were taking my kids somewhere and I wanted them in carseats? What is the big thing that makes my in-laws get so miffed about this? When we were getting the seats out of our van M. stood there and still said "you guys are just silly." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I swear I could just strangle this woman. But I didn't. I just smiled at her and kept my mouth shut. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Like a good sister-in-law.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-112949036539080503?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/112949036539080503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=112949036539080503&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/112949036539080503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/112949036539080503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/10/safety-pu-shaw.html' title='Safety? PU shaw!'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-112940210206053645</id><published>2005-10-15T11:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:32.242-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Lovefest</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;We are having a love fest here. I am not ready for this. How did my children get old enough to start "liking" people? This is getting strange. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;My 10 year old son likes a darling girl in his class. She likes him. Their relationship involves doing class work together. I noticed during Friday recess duty that they do a lot of chatting. OK, that is not that big a deal. Up until now he has been oblivious to the girls who like him. He is a good sweet boy and it will take him a while to catch on to the whole boy/girl thing. He is one of those studious, responsible types. Girls have not been a priority to him. So I thought I had more time to wrap my mind around this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;But - my daughter decided to start liking boys. This is new. Up until now she has been adored by all of the boys in her class and one aberrant third grader. Last year one of the boys actually gave her flowers for her birthday. Her response was "oh, thanks." Not a big deal. She didn't really "like" anyone. She just went through the world assuming everyone thought she was great. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Now all of a sudden, Dylan is wonderful. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Dylan is a darling boy. He was very quiet last year. This year he is a little more extroverted. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I guess she has noticed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I had no idea this was coming until we got our school pictures back last week. Ms. Peri and I were looking at her class photo and I mentioned that everyone looked nice in the picture. She gazed at the photo and said in a quiet voice, "and Dylan is handsome." Alarm bells immediately went off in my head. Ugh, must start the *BIG* Boy Conversations. SHE'S ONLY EIGHT! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;So I asked her, "uhm, so do you think Dylan is cute now?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;She promptly rolls her eyes at me (I can't believe that's already started!) and says "Mooom!" I had to stifle a gulp/snicker and ask her if she thought he was a nice boy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Yes, Mom! He is very nice! Stop embarrassing me!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;As she stomped off in a huff because I embarrassed her I thought OMG! The DRAMA begins in earnest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Now my youngest son has always been "the man" in his Pre-School class. We will never forget the Sawyer/Daisy/Thatcher Loooove Triangle. Now he is in a deep and meaningful relationship with Harriet. He is sad because this year he went on to Kindergarten and she was left behind in Pre-School. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;He asked if he could call her this morning. He thought it was only fair that he get to call someone after watching his brother talk to one of his buddies about a video game and his sister talk to one of her friends about their Halloween costumes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Oh what the heck - I gave her mom a call and asked her if it would be alright for them to talk. She is really cool and she thought it was cute and let Harriet talk. Saw and Harriet chatted for an HOUR. An HOUR! They talked about Halloween, they talked about cartoons, they gossiped about their classmates. If not for the subject matter, they could have been at a cocktail party. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;After their conversation, he asked me to arrange lunch with her at McDonald's. Does it count as a date if both her mom and I have to be there? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;This is where I am starting to get freaked out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-112940210206053645?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/112940210206053645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=112940210206053645&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/112940210206053645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/112940210206053645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/10/baby-lovefest.html' title='Baby Lovefest'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-112889642522115860</id><published>2005-10-09T17:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:31.825-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kid quote of the day....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Hey mom, my armpits are sweaty - and they smell like chocolate!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;wha?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-112889642522115860?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/112889642522115860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=112889642522115860&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/112889642522115860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/112889642522115860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/10/kid-quote-of-day.html' title='Kid quote of the day....'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-112874376110972358</id><published>2005-10-07T22:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T14:22:31.558-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Deep Mothering Question #1</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I do not understand this phenomenon:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Week nights - children extremely difficult to get into bed. Energy abounds and talking won't stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Week days - children extremely difficult to get out of bed. Crankiness abounds and whining won't stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weekend nights - children pass out around 8:30 pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weekend mornings - children wake up at 6:30 am in chipper moods and want to spend quality time with groggy parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-112874376110972358?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/112874376110972358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=112874376110972358&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/112874376110972358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/112874376110972358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/10/deep-mothering-question-1.html' title='Deep Mothering Question #1'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16977651.post-112741673673531476</id><published>2005-09-22T12:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T13:37:52.202-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Question of the day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;When did my house become such a wreck?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I have three children, one husband, and two dogs. None of them are particularly good at picking up after themselves. Just how many Yu-gi-oh cards do my sons have? There appears to be several hundred under my sofa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Before I got married, I was a neat freak. I had a place for everything and everything in it's place. Now, I am still a neat freak with no idea where half our stuff is. But I am the one that should know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Typical conversation at my house:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;MOM!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;PLEASE DON'T YELL AT ME! COME IN HERE AND ASK ME WHAT YOU WANT TO KNOW!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;MOM!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;DO YOU HEAR ME?!? COME IN HERE AND ASK ME!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;MOM, COULD YOU COME HERE PLEASE?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;COME IN HERE AND ASK ME! I AM (insert any of the following: FOLDING THE LAUNDRY, TRYING TO COOK DINNER, CLEANING THE TOILET &lt;em&gt;AGAIN&lt;/em&gt;, WASHING THE DOG, TRYING TO DO MY JOB, TRYING TO FIGURE OUT MY NEW BLOG) SO COME IN HERE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;MOM, WHERE ARE MY SHOES?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;COME IN HERE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Child finally comes into whatever room I am in....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Mom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Yes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Mom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I said yes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Oh, where are my shoes?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Aren't they in your cubby in you closet?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;No.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Why not?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I don't know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Well, if you would put them in your shoe cubby you would know where they are. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Can you help me find them?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Why can't you find them?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I don't know where they are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Hence the need to go look for them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;But Dad said I can't go with him if I don't get my shoes on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Then go look for them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;But I don't know where they are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Go look for them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Won't you help me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;No, you should know where your shoes are. You have a cubby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;But I forgot to put them in my cubby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I know, so go look for them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;But I need help. Dad is ready to go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;If you had just started looking for them instead of begging me to help you, you would of found them by now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;But I don't know where they are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Ugh, where did you take them off?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I don't know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Go look by the sofa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;They're not there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;How do you know?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I just do. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Let's go look. See, you left them by the sofa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Oh, I forgot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I spend about 15 minutes a day really questioning my sanity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16977651-112741673673531476?l=theginablog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/feeds/112741673673531476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16977651&amp;postID=112741673673531476&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/112741673673531476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16977651/posts/default/112741673673531476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theginablog.blogspot.com/2005/09/question-of-day.html' title='Question of the day'/><author><name>gina</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gpYhOP6Dedo/SRDYK3tFnaI/AAAAAAAAALY/faRvDZ7Jv5w/S220/gmBlogavatar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
