tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78171902985112059272024-03-19T03:55:07.956-06:00ShananaginsShanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.comBlogger91125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-90789580727070174792010-04-04T20:58:00.000-06:002010-04-04T20:58:01.935-06:00Thank you Easter Bunny!!!<div style="text-align: center;"><strong><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Today the Easter Bunny came to my house!!!</span></strong></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgocQwuN4Jz7rvP0mycmFc3bkO8W9_4BqKQg-BosQ-EMNd67ooD-8x3wJjpAXINMODW4y6kiCRsrjZHWiHWP3KHs2Gw1zQyV9g9PRWDpgsC57N5Sb3YSF4OAgGCHWhRs86N9WvjQCkZWIVt/s1600/easter+2010+010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgocQwuN4Jz7rvP0mycmFc3bkO8W9_4BqKQg-BosQ-EMNd67ooD-8x3wJjpAXINMODW4y6kiCRsrjZHWiHWP3KHs2Gw1zQyV9g9PRWDpgsC57N5Sb3YSF4OAgGCHWhRs86N9WvjQCkZWIVt/s320/easter+2010+010.JPG" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hank wasn't forgotten either:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYSVhyl4LeVQWrFNqxYjCh8sM_hK2O1hl2Ayvf60CYBrDmn3Ifv80yiVLcep-FTs3Kdo2NRmZXao0pNkggB-Km_DbOQaqBIp4ihpy_yuKA5ZVDi-9LLutxjvHtH1Yg8QCkdBxHMIPLQals/s1600/easter+2010+006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYSVhyl4LeVQWrFNqxYjCh8sM_hK2O1hl2Ayvf60CYBrDmn3Ifv80yiVLcep-FTs3Kdo2NRmZXao0pNkggB-Km_DbOQaqBIp4ihpy_yuKA5ZVDi-9LLutxjvHtH1Yg8QCkdBxHMIPLQals/s320/easter+2010+006.JPG" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Xo5hyFyLKxog4ywus142bRPf3zDXrms_LBnEQRmNUK22Kf1IK-MXNttcTvzI_5nNmmul6bQGHeJxkCWyiSvXMqrVdp6DT9y0o84RyvilgyWImXzQa96CQyveodba9UFgxxpfzI9awww4/s1600/easter+2010+008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Xo5hyFyLKxog4ywus142bRPf3zDXrms_LBnEQRmNUK22Kf1IK-MXNttcTvzI_5nNmmul6bQGHeJxkCWyiSvXMqrVdp6DT9y0o84RyvilgyWImXzQa96CQyveodba9UFgxxpfzI9awww4/s320/easter+2010+008.JPG" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That Easter Bunny had to be really tricky and really fast because I only slept 2 1/2 hours last night. He must have been scoping out my house all night waiting for me to fall asleep so he could work his bunny magic. Thank you Easter Bunny!</span></div>Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-87590514556123933862010-04-03T21:40:00.001-06:002010-04-03T21:43:55.060-06:00Hoarding<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, now that I have regular channels on my TV and a DVR, it's a whole new world for me. I get to watch all kinds of stuff now. I share my sattelite access with my landlord. They get to be the boss of what channel package they want to have. Previously they chose the family package. Translation: 500 channels of Disney and Nickeloden and not much else except for local channels. So for the past 22 months, I've spent a lot of time watching the Food Network and National Geographic channels. They happen to come with the family package. There were also several days when the sattelite didn't work at all and so I had nothing. While it may not seem like crappy and/or no TV isn't the end of the world, it really kind of is. I live alone and if it's super-quiet I feel lonely and I get depressed. Then I start to get anxious and basically go bonkers. I've tried the radio but it isn't the same. TV makes me feel like someone is home besides me. Radio doesn't because nobody goes around singing all the time unless they happen to be in a musical. I would really like it if we were in a musical all the time.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That was a very long explaination to get to the point of my blog. The point is that there are a lot of shows I didn't even know existed before. One of those said shows is called "Hoarders." It's about people who, well, hoard. Only not just a little bit. Sometimes after it is all cleaned out the floors have rotted out, leaving a hole, and a condemed house. I am absolutely fascinated by this whole thing. Even though it makes me anxious to see it, I can't look away. It's like trying not to look at a train wreck as you drive by. Impossible. So to add to my current psycho depression and anxiety, I've got hoarding to worry about. How whacked out is it to be anxious about getting an anxiety disorder? </span><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yesterday I was looking in my closet and decided that it was getting way too squishy. I hardly ever wear a bunch of those clothes. Plus, I bet I have 20 pairs of shoes I need to be done with. Why am I keeping them around? Then I thought about "Hoarders." I bet they only started with something like clothes they couldn't say good bye to. Then it moved on to this:</span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc0SZY9AdSQZ_hR-CAJnRQQZmbvoZzgT9iAQVfW1XBEtDqnEmPYMC8ptRZi_IcTdGe2hGR0GVP_9cDiZa2_DbjVbkKe3iWi-Y1LsnGXCOQPFheaawLLY_b_UElrXzqLm_acEOEaTLZGDiQ/s1600/hoarders.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc0SZY9AdSQZ_hR-CAJnRQQZmbvoZzgT9iAQVfW1XBEtDqnEmPYMC8ptRZi_IcTdGe2hGR0GVP_9cDiZa2_DbjVbkKe3iWi-Y1LsnGXCOQPFheaawLLY_b_UElrXzqLm_acEOEaTLZGDiQ/s400/hoarders.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After that thought it only took me about two seconds to decide to start tossing stuff. I plan on going home after school and start chucking stuff in other rooms. I figure that for my sanity it is better to take the risk that I'll toss something I may need later, than to develop hoarding disease. Which, by the way, is a real illness. They make therapists come on the show and everything so that the hoarding people don't freak out. Plus, also, even when I have thrown things away that I wanted later, while a minor inconvenience, I'm pretty sure I survived without it.</span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here's all the stuff I decided that I could live without:</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirf7kUSNHnNzX3Urr_kmhwO8HdWpKfsoW8o4JgZdD2unW-fAtG2oLQwDe28SPcsOw9HxJRyHbs6lweFgcEhY02StDZEdaB3cAwuDyrkyqapLV7b0bmjb8evnFR4DFPRfq4zZr-gDwXERWj/s1600/013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirf7kUSNHnNzX3Urr_kmhwO8HdWpKfsoW8o4JgZdD2unW-fAtG2oLQwDe28SPcsOw9HxJRyHbs6lweFgcEhY02StDZEdaB3cAwuDyrkyqapLV7b0bmjb8evnFR4DFPRfq4zZr-gDwXERWj/s320/013.JPG" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Only maybe not the slippers or Hank. He just likes that chair. This is only the D.I. crap. There was much more that I just chucked. While it doesn't look too much like that other scary photo, I feel better just knowing that I've not started down that slippery hoarding disease slope.</span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">I went through every cubbard, drawer, closet, and storage box in my house. One of the hugie boxes I has was full of photos from the past 20 years. You know, the box that you always say that you will go through all the photos and only keep the ones you really want? I actually went through that box. What I discovered is that the amount of photos I actually need and want is this:</span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgGEC-qS2TDjPMvm9cbuWcqFlebTedI1K439CXe4Xw1hibYNZWOgRi-anqz3H7ljOoFON_JHmp_PFgbE2MPa-lcIfmdhyphenhyphennDvXcCbQNxj9uq_5Dtbi1CYkkfZ3ZkYJTtH4IZC5rh0kHpK21/s1600/009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgGEC-qS2TDjPMvm9cbuWcqFlebTedI1K439CXe4Xw1hibYNZWOgRi-anqz3H7ljOoFON_JHmp_PFgbE2MPa-lcIfmdhyphenhyphennDvXcCbQNxj9uq_5Dtbi1CYkkfZ3ZkYJTtH4IZC5rh0kHpK21/s320/009.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The amount of photos that I don't need is this:</span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8RFrihULhh9HF2lXYPbQZ2vzf4WDAyxZwkCUNeQ82wq_JBWsoT-PhHp12x7fEkdO8JbsHgWE6AHrHMquABcn67xM4A7ioo8KhrL7pV9W_d-jFF9Xsla2bGEepjlqY0J2E3JcqTlQnq6Vy/s1600/011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8RFrihULhh9HF2lXYPbQZ2vzf4WDAyxZwkCUNeQ82wq_JBWsoT-PhHp12x7fEkdO8JbsHgWE6AHrHMquABcn67xM4A7ioo8KhrL7pV9W_d-jFF9Xsla2bGEepjlqY0J2E3JcqTlQnq6Vy/s320/011.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The end.</span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-69304824512837662482010-04-01T14:21:00.001-06:002010-04-01T14:22:54.498-06:00Holiday Curmudgeon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjESXV-Hz05oSQBsTfT5QBK6BWOEEfVd6oHbAKmlbYoUFlmQKztukuW5k0g6RCidzdL9DljvZGsPVA7cQlXuSy5PyyFnwQSvMk28-o4skUQHUQRPxHn80QGAvteHEd1bfl17o3rkE9hPtWS/s1600/april+fool.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjESXV-Hz05oSQBsTfT5QBK6BWOEEfVd6oHbAKmlbYoUFlmQKztukuW5k0g6RCidzdL9DljvZGsPVA7cQlXuSy5PyyFnwQSvMk28-o4skUQHUQRPxHn80QGAvteHEd1bfl17o3rkE9hPtWS/s320/april+fool.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not to be too much of a party pooper, but April Fool's day is one of my 3 least favorite holidays. Mostly because I'm a teacher. The holidays I hate most (in no particular order) are: April Fool's day because how many times can you hear kids say stupid stuff and then yell, "April Fool's!" (in the middle of class, mind you) and not want to kill them? The answer is not very many. St. Patrick's day because they all run around looking for people to pinch and insist on pinching even the ones that are wearing green. (Also in the middle of class.) Finally, Halloween. Only when the day after Halloween is a school day, however. The kids stay up way too late and come to school sleep-deprived and hopped up on sugar.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">P.S. For those of you that don't know what a curmudgeon is:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>cur·mudg·eon</strong> (kr-mjn) n. An ill-tempered person full of resentment and stubborn notions.</span>Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-51124410818487803712010-03-12T09:07:00.000-07:002010-03-12T09:07:23.991-07:00Beer, Cigarrete's and Teenage NudityIt's Girl Scout cookie time. One of the only bright spots of March in my opinion. I just grabbed a couple of Tag-a-Longs to eat with the Diet Coke I'm forced to have before I go to bed to get rid of my headache. The fact that I have to have a Diet Coke to get rid of my caffeine-deprived body, and the fact that I think I need a couple of cookies to go along with it is a whole other story.<br />
<br />
<br />
Back to Girl Scouts. As I grabbed my cookies it brought be back to my own Girl Scout days. I grew up in the mountains of North Carolina. That place is practically the opposite of Utah in every way. Not necessarily in a bad way, but it's sure different. I remember when I was about 12 our Girl Scout leader decided to take us on a field trip to Winston Salem. I don't remember exactly how far away that was but maybe two, two and a half hours. It is only now after 16 years of living in the Utah culture that I see how whack that trip really was for a bunch of Girl Scouts.<br />
<br />
The first stop on our field trip was Stroh's Beer brewery which was apparently, "the king of beers" before Budweiser was even around. Free beer flowed from the taps for all those that visited the brewery. I learned all about the beer making business. Something that comes in handy for any 12 year old girl. The beer was help yourself as you were leaving the brewery. I remember the leaders keeping a close eye on us to make sure that we only helped ourselves to the Coke products that were also on tap. I think I'll blame my Diet Coke dependency on that day. It sure beats me being responsible for it.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5YiLknRu-WWeAcEnuusCTZAlR6j8z1Qyu-jQD5DnJtrc_mer6Qv24vCR5zSIwKngtGtrHSmUfW_OrPNN0ERL3ZuwPOoAFNlrP6ehJTDVJeAMnrvPoawK5Ph_y_sAgrhTIqDVBR5GOh6M2/s1600-h/strohs+beer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5YiLknRu-WWeAcEnuusCTZAlR6j8z1Qyu-jQD5DnJtrc_mer6Qv24vCR5zSIwKngtGtrHSmUfW_OrPNN0ERL3ZuwPOoAFNlrP6ehJTDVJeAMnrvPoawK5Ph_y_sAgrhTIqDVBR5GOh6M2/s320/strohs+beer.jpg" vt="true" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Next stop was the RJ Reynolds tobacco company. Since most of you didn't take NC history in school, I'll tell you that tobacco has been the number one cash crop of NC since NC began. That is a long time since the first colony in the New World was in NC. That's actually probably a well known fact from U.S. History too. I'm guessing that most of you have seen the Camel cigarette icon:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4e6FgINTtl0w2OTyfuzWrCIn78ZZwD7HzMIWsVNaVDUqGQ6pmk2Ywy0RjGRP7fqkMS18AxPxWRbO_OgYMxpw8pFVRdQrN1g9xJjnek4XI6wDYR-o3qVbymlwXZ97EPVjqrpHL2aHfzRQN/s1600-h/camel+cig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4e6FgINTtl0w2OTyfuzWrCIn78ZZwD7HzMIWsVNaVDUqGQ6pmk2Ywy0RjGRP7fqkMS18AxPxWRbO_OgYMxpw8pFVRdQrN1g9xJjnek4XI6wDYR-o3qVbymlwXZ97EPVjqrpHL2aHfzRQN/s320/camel+cig.jpg" vt="true" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm a little proud to say that at the RJ Reynold's headquarters they have a huge statue of that very same camel made from actual tobacco and I had the honor to see it and its tobacco-y goodness. Forrest Gump and his adventures can't top seeing that. So, after learning all about how to make beer, I then learned all about how to make cigarettes, chew, snuff, etc. What better place to learn it than from the largest tobacco company in the world. Incase you were wondering, they didn't have free cigarettes there for us to take on the way out. Only too bad for me and my dreams to become addicted to nicotine.</div><br />
<br />
While those are both very interesting choices of places to take a bunch of 12 year olds, the best is yet to come. We were staying at our leader's sister's house I think. We just pitched a tent in the yard and slept outside. We didn't go to sleep, however, before watching a movie. I think what they picked was the obvious choice--The Blue Lagoon. There's nothing like teenage sex and nudity to top off a day of beer and cigarettes. I hope you can appreciate how I am less redneck than I have any right to be.Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-6866874961578561462010-03-03T07:14:00.000-07:002010-03-03T07:41:33.490-07:00Tender Mercies of the Largest KindYes, I have risen from the dead. I dare say it's a bigger miracle than Lazarus. Maybe that's a little blasphemous, so maybe let it be written that it's just a miracle.<br />
<br />
Before I launch into my actual post, on an unrelated side note, maybe Hillyerie shouldn't make fun of me for doing this blog at 6:00 a.m. AT SCHOOL no less, because after all, only crazy people do that.<br />
<br />
As another side note, Lynne, I happen to be writing something. Happy, Dear? I don't want to hear another word about it.<br />
<br />
I digress. I experienced one of the greatest tender mercies of my life yesterday, and I think it's something I want to share. It's about to get real right here, so hold on to your seats. Actually, this may not be news to most of you that read my blog, as mostly the people I love best are the ones to read it and have knowledge of it on some level.<br />
<br />
I've gone to therapy for lo, many years. The reason is because 1. I'm prolly a little bit crazy. (Though I dare say no crazier than pretty much anybody I know.) Mostly it's number 2. I suffer from severe depression. Severe enough that I've been hospitalized for it a few times and have had electroshock therapy. ( I told you that it was about to get real.) Fortunately, for the past couple of years I've been blessed with a period of happiness with no more than some blue days that we all experience from time to time. However, for the past several months, slowly but surely I've been slipping back into that not-so-happy place. Without going into too much detail (because I think that might be a little too real) the reason for my depression is because as a child I experience many years of abuse from more than one person. That tends to jack a child up and literally rewires their brain and the chemicals in it. As a result, anyone with intense trauma of really most any kind suffers from depression and many other issues that come with it on some level. I did my best to pretend that I wasn't slipping and berating myself for not being able to just deal with it and push through until it passed. I consider myself a pretty smart and definitely functioning member of society, so why can't I figure this one out? Only too bad for me, the brain doesn't really care what you want sometimes. It only cares about what needs to happen for it to heal and feel better.<br />
<br />
This brings me to the tender mercy part. Probably 5 or 6 years ago I wasn't so functioning. I found myself in the hospital for I believe the 2nd time in as many years. The tricky thing about being in the hospital for depression is that even if you stabilize and begin to feel better, they won't let you out unless you have a therapist lined up to go see when you get out. I didn't have one, and I was more than ready to get out of that place. They gave me a list of possible places to go and a telephone and told me to go to work. I didn't know where to begin. However, my KT friend was friends with a therapist that she loved very much. Since I didn't have any better ideas, I called his office. The receptionist told me that he wasn't accepting new clients, however, they had a wonderful lady named, Erin that was new to their facility and could see me. I told her I'd take what I could get and we set up an appointment. I guess that was really the 1st tender mercy that led to the one I experienced yesterday. Heavenly Father sent me straight to Erin because she was the one who could take me on the painful journey I needed to take in order to heal and move on in my life. She was an angel in my life. I spent the next year and a half doing the most painful, gut-wrenching, but healing work of my life. On the first day that I walked into her office she knew exactly what I needed and didn't waste any time. She also didn't put up with any of my crap because I'd become pretty proficient at avoiding and telling people what I thought they wanted to hear. I loved and trusted her so much and felt so safe and so grateful for her, I would have gone to the ends of the Earth and back if she asked me to. (She never did ask me to go to the ends of the Earth, but she did ask me to go to places that I'd chosen the Earth over any day.) I truly believe that Erin saved me. I don't think I could have stayed here much longer with that kind of pain and hopelessness. Then one day I showed up to her office and she told me that she'd be leaving. My world flipped upside down and inside out. I was devastated. She said she would be gone in a couple of weeks. She needed to take a break from being a therapist for her own reasons. She told me that she didn't know how long that would be. Maybe a year or two. She just didn’t know. I felt the ultimate abandonment and cried pretty much for about 3 weeks after that. Honest and truly there are very few days still that I don't think of her and feel grateful for her. I'd give most anything to see her again and just hug her neck.<br />
<br />
Fast forward to a few months ago. I finally realized that it was time for me to go back to therapy and do more work. I'm in a different, much better place now than I was when I met Erin, but the funny thing about trauma is that it keeps cycling back over and over. Each time is less painful and more hopeful because you know that you are getting closer to the time that you will have made your peace with it enough that it doesn't affect your life. I went back to the Family Support and Treatment Center where I'd seen Erin about 4 years ago. They got me in to see Nevin, which was great, but probably not the person I needed. After a couple of months of seeing him I realized that I should probably break up with him and try another therapist that I was more comfortable. Only another tender mercy because he told me that he was leaving and I'd need to get a new therapist. I was a little butt-hurt because I'm not a fan of being abandoned and he was the second one. He even had Erin's old office. I got over that pretty quickly, though. He referred me to a girl named Jessica. She is fantastic. Only you're not going to believe this because on my first meeting with her she told me that she was only going to be there until sometime in April and then she was leaving to go back to Canada. Are you freaking kidding me?! Now I had a huge decision to make. Did I go ahead and see her for the time she was here and have the faith that I could find someone else when she was gone? The catch with this one is that I only have 20 visits a year with my insurance and I'd used most of them on Nevin. I only have about 8 left so when she's gone I'm all tapped out. So that required more faith that the funds would come. Choice number two was to not see her for this time and save my visits for the new person. The flaw with this choice is that I'm pretty sure I'm not okay enough to go that long without someone. Seems like there was a third choice, but it wasn't a very good one and I've forgotten it now. I decided to take the leap of faith and continue to see Jessica although I was scared to death to really get to know and trust her and to pray the funds would show up. So, here's the really good part: Yesterday I showed up to see Jessica and she was fairly shaking with excitement. She said she'd been counting down the minutes until she saw me. I thought that was a little intense, but whatever. She said that she had news for me. (I think you probably know where this is going.) Apparently, Family Support and Treatment Center was rehiring ERIN to replace Jessica and Nevin! Shut Up! Are you even kidding me? I'm pretty sure I squealed in delight and so did Jessica. Heavenly Father loves me so much that he sent the one person back into my life when I needed her most. Can I tell you how glad I am that I took the leap of faith route and decided to stick with Jessica and pray it would all work out? I am absolutely beside myself with joy and feel the most hope I've felt in months. I'm also deeply humbled and grateful for the blessing and tender mercy Heavenly Father saw fit to give to me. I think he must love me best.Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-11539659947655055942009-12-22T10:20:00.002-07:002009-12-22T10:21:18.862-07:00Certain Death Averted<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For Christmas this year that <a href="http://thesillythingswedo.blogspot.com/2009/12/december-8-2009.html">Hillyerie</a> girl got me a teeny tiny flat iron. It's name is the Baby Bliss Pro. I needed a teeny tiny flat iron because I have pretty short hair and the flat iron I have is bigger than my hair is long so I keep burning my fingers. That Hillyerie has a nick for gift giving because she pays very close attention all the time to people's ramblings and then gets them the very thing they said in passing they'd like to have. I'm pretty sure that's what happened with me and the flat iron. I took a photo of it to show you just how baby it is in comparison to my regular one:</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnqd85_S7KiAFFHS0kOMZiTkEeWv0BDalqL4xpp9hVI5JScccgcW2fCn2BA7yuBvsGuyVba-Tyc3o2JBbFTOY8MfIKieFTzTbsD1h6u71ffdybVKguH6iiLXP-9h8FbRokkwe2dXxDiNpT/s1600-h/flat+iron.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnqd85_S7KiAFFHS0kOMZiTkEeWv0BDalqL4xpp9hVI5JScccgcW2fCn2BA7yuBvsGuyVba-Tyc3o2JBbFTOY8MfIKieFTzTbsD1h6u71ffdybVKguH6iiLXP-9h8FbRokkwe2dXxDiNpT/s320/flat+iron.JPG" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Something you may or may not know about me is that I'm a "read the instructions" kind of girl. If I don't read them thoroughly, I at least peruse them to make sure I don't miss anything important. So, last night I was washing my face, brushing my teeth, and such in preperation for bed. My Baby Bliss Pro instrucion manual was on the counter and I thought that maybe I'd give it a look see to make sure I knew everything I needed to know about it. I started with the "IMPORTANT SAFETY INSTRUCTIONS" because they are important after all. Boy am I glad I did because apparently I've been taking my life in my own hands by not following these instructions. I've taken the liberty of highlighting a few of the ones that I was the most worried about:</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGNKwBeeHsho9YuWgYHRCCPW1BAz7zHpdgViylOE5ewsTQHrPoZXG67JLTAJ7AWFujrJF9a98mmmMSxqm5zLtftB5DDJYDKc6Enm18ZJJK060oXgmmfU-pJqrJDuIUbMiY77TjzGtc_Pp8/s1600-h/flat+iron+instructions.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGNKwBeeHsho9YuWgYHRCCPW1BAz7zHpdgViylOE5ewsTQHrPoZXG67JLTAJ7AWFujrJF9a98mmmMSxqm5zLtftB5DDJYDKc6Enm18ZJJK060oXgmmfU-pJqrJDuIUbMiY77TjzGtc_Pp8/s400/flat+iron+instructions.jpg" /></span></a><br />
</div><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">#2. <em><span style="color: red;">Do not use while bathing or in shower</span></em><span style="color: red;">--</span>Now how am I supposed to multi-task to get to school on time if I can't use it while I'm showering, I ask you?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">#3. <em><span style="color: red;">This appliance should not be used by, on, or near children or individuals with certain disabilities</span></em><span style="color: red;">--</span>I think I need a clarification on that one. What exact disabilities are they worried about? Siezures, baldness, maybe persons that have had their brain shocked? If I don't know how do I know if I can really use it?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">#7. <em><span style="color: red;">Never use while sleeping</span></em><span style="color: red;">--</span>This one is my favorite. I don't think I need to make a snarky comment as it is plenty dumb all by itself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">#9. <span style="color: red;"><em>Do not use outdoors or operate where aerosol (spray) products are being used or where oxygen is being administered</em></span><span style="color: red;">--</span>This one causes many problems. First of all, I just had electrical outlets installed in my tent for camping trips where I may need to flat iron. Since I can't use it outside, that was a total waste. Secondly, I'm worried about all of the hairstylist in the world that have to take their clients outside to flat iron their hair because they cannot have it anywhere that has aerosol spray. Only guess what...they can't use it outside either, so they are just plain screwed. And finally, if it cannot be used where oxygen is being used, then all of the poor, catatonic people in the hospitals cannot have cute, flat ironed hair. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">#11. <span style="color: red;">This appliance is hot when in use. Do not let eyes or bare skin touch heated surfaces</span><span style="color: red;">--</span>Only too bad for me because now I can't use it to curl my eyelashes! What the heck am I supposed to do now since my other heated eyelash curler is about to bite the dust?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As you can see, I just averted certain death by reading these "Important Saftey Instructions." I hope this public service announcement goes on to save many lives.</span>Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-14691460001481955212009-12-21T14:30:00.001-07:002009-12-21T14:31:08.151-07:00Parson Brown<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was listening to the radio as I was getting ready for school this morning and they played this jazzy version of "Winter Wonderland." Only maybe I shouldn't admit this because I don't come off looking so smart. Who am I kidding? I'm no intellectual giant anyway. Anyway, they sang the part that says: </span><br />
<em><span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">In the meadow we can build a snow man. </span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Then pretend that he is Parson Brown. </span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">He'll say, "Are you married?" </span></em><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em><span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">We'll say, "No man, but you can do the job while your in town."</span></em> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For all of my 34 years I could never figure out what color parson brown was and what that has to do with getting married. Only just this morning did I realized that Parson Brown was not a color but maybe a preacher. In which case him being all nosey about marriage makes all kinds of sense!</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMB5ADIycXxdttBY0OY0UkfNwZNZ-nQqoNTnzoR208f7yiQJ2JdXcPqm3yJ1j5TpOIUroMexu5BkMtORpZvgsIJs5jh1ouabZJ0r2PXeLAEufNbiXijcnCwTkLa2fSUhJpZKcRBZrrwOI6/s1600-h/chocolate+snowman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMB5ADIycXxdttBY0OY0UkfNwZNZ-nQqoNTnzoR208f7yiQJ2JdXcPqm3yJ1j5TpOIUroMexu5BkMtORpZvgsIJs5jh1ouabZJ0r2PXeLAEufNbiXijcnCwTkLa2fSUhJpZKcRBZrrwOI6/s320/chocolate+snowman.jpg" /></a><br />
</div>Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-50676286644118951132009-12-13T14:32:00.001-07:002009-12-13T14:33:27.267-07:00Survey<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, Mary Kay has come out with these new eye kits. It's basically eye shadow for dummies. Depending on your eye color there is a kit with eye colors that are supposed to make your eyes pop. The kit also shows you how to best apply it. I'm not exactly an eye shadow dummy. I know what colors look good and how to apply them. However, I've never really been able to decide what my eye color really is. Sometimes I think maybe they are more blue, but then there are days that they look greenish. Not to mention the days that I'm pretty sure they look hazel. So, I decided to do an experiment. I did the look for each of these colors of eyes and took pictures so that I could see which one looked the very best. I still don't know. They all look similarly great which makes me think that maybe I do have cameleon eyes. Since I'm apparently useless at this I decided I'd put it to a vote. Look at all three and tell me the one you like the very best. I know that there are a few of you that look at my blog but don't comment. Today you must comment because taking a vote doesn't do much good if no one votes.</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Look #1</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6wD8W1RpeR_ndkXT_3oY1F56eyikmP395D-bHdwL9uRJjwG76YV7qs36fZnfKHi4Rcvo1CLTjXSU8mpLvA3uvGQYLOHy5BaYMJa7ofrZ6nkd0_H914lFBvZHb9PAle58wLKpIwdypBxtL/s1600-h/hazel+eyes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6wD8W1RpeR_ndkXT_3oY1F56eyikmP395D-bHdwL9uRJjwG76YV7qs36fZnfKHi4Rcvo1CLTjXSU8mpLvA3uvGQYLOHy5BaYMJa7ofrZ6nkd0_H914lFBvZHb9PAle58wLKpIwdypBxtL/s400/hazel+eyes.jpg" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Look #2</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpRcjpo7WYwNyiXgq7ODF2meb7qSq8s1LJAABEFY-B6LsvKCjJuFznQQeDXXlFnNVmbZF8oO5215JFffvOX8S9v40qfkSo6tNHm0J5r_t79bNaSTobF03FyQZKtrut571ZnW0UEzU5rlMu/s1600-h/blue+eyes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpRcjpo7WYwNyiXgq7ODF2meb7qSq8s1LJAABEFY-B6LsvKCjJuFznQQeDXXlFnNVmbZF8oO5215JFffvOX8S9v40qfkSo6tNHm0J5r_t79bNaSTobF03FyQZKtrut571ZnW0UEzU5rlMu/s400/blue+eyes.jpg" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Look #3</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmPQuzYFf0jnxrzbhxs_z8jaETMgj9q4-ASaVgZPr01KIEVBV5xvUzNV777s-Xbp7055Ef1REFnwscK3JQmJZxaj-ASs8ynQPQhR1nSP3nLyH6ID5NUlWhbHspVM9CKSuZfBDnzsa24WnP/s1600-h/green+eyes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmPQuzYFf0jnxrzbhxs_z8jaETMgj9q4-ASaVgZPr01KIEVBV5xvUzNV777s-Xbp7055Ef1REFnwscK3JQmJZxaj-ASs8ynQPQhR1nSP3nLyH6ID5NUlWhbHspVM9CKSuZfBDnzsa24WnP/s400/green+eyes.jpg" /></span></a><br />
</div><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span>Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-57975503950454599112009-12-12T22:50:00.003-07:002009-12-12T22:53:26.591-07:00Christmas Photo of the Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih2IA7Fr8sbSq7Qr2ff-kQ759H5WMHgowKQb7hMK_77_kBqP2OnbdWVQYkikaYOaycwCkcf-eIJ0pSGGHQ07ZxKJhje5ec9y8h1f9tyvSiLy1TBFlb0-6Yw9NT9lcWEEqE4sxRFv69_6oZ/s1600-h/hank+and+santa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih2IA7Fr8sbSq7Qr2ff-kQ759H5WMHgowKQb7hMK_77_kBqP2OnbdWVQYkikaYOaycwCkcf-eIJ0pSGGHQ07ZxKJhje5ec9y8h1f9tyvSiLy1TBFlb0-6Yw9NT9lcWEEqE4sxRFv69_6oZ/s640/hank+and+santa.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The jury is still out on whether he has been too naughty for Santa to actually come to visit him. I think he's buttering the fat man up. Maybe I should start doing a little bit of that myself.<br />
</div>Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-45041081630749461482009-12-10T16:23:00.001-07:002009-12-10T16:24:49.496-07:00Mouse Babies<span style="font-family: Arial;">I woke up the other morning and when I opened my bedroom door I found this outside of it:</span> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU8HKjHuMHHi64LlWiGhc6ddFTY-S_r2M-FQSZXylGE69q1jpn_ZcKvwuTiaOEkBpzbM0rxN9OUUzYEgK5eOS_UQDqOjqbgu15ht2mntwKXO7El4-JPok796bu4EYFFP7ix1uGd3tu5qL1/s1600-h/chick's+007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU8HKjHuMHHi64LlWiGhc6ddFTY-S_r2M-FQSZXylGE69q1jpn_ZcKvwuTiaOEkBpzbM0rxN9OUUzYEgK5eOS_UQDqOjqbgu15ht2mntwKXO7El4-JPok796bu4EYFFP7ix1uGd3tu5qL1/s320/chick's+007.JPG" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hank lined up all of his mouse babies like a choo choo for me. It made me giggle even though it was like 6:00 a.m. Living with Hank is a little bit like living with a 2 year old. Only more convenient because I can leave him for a couple of days with a bowl of food and water and a litter box.</span><br />
</div>Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-38497492012868510682009-12-09T10:15:00.004-07:002009-12-09T10:16:20.211-07:00-5 Degrees! ...I'm Just Sayin'.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG7kO_G09OBUNfib1xLvPbFL9QlkN-ZwghXNWVmOPHyohGrKV1uaKQdwJFTwn-MkSsxU5PxnZkLmWWco86HuAmDntGWxwndq277k4qgMBo5BpOJiHpSFSUrbDIyVBiESEPsTwB1ZBNvuBC/s1600-h/IMG_0299.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG7kO_G09OBUNfib1xLvPbFL9QlkN-ZwghXNWVmOPHyohGrKV1uaKQdwJFTwn-MkSsxU5PxnZkLmWWco86HuAmDntGWxwndq277k4qgMBo5BpOJiHpSFSUrbDIyVBiESEPsTwB1ZBNvuBC/s320/IMG_0299.jpg" /></a><br />
</div>Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-52661564014625553582009-12-07T18:06:00.006-07:002009-12-10T12:42:28.906-07:00Chick'sOn Friday I took a personal day from school. What wonderful event was happening that I'd take a whole day off of school, you ask? Chick's, that's what. My Auntie Kaye sent me an official invitation in the mail asking me if I wanted to go to Chick's and to Midway for a Chistamas boutique. Really, she had me at Chick's. The boutique was just a bonus.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAJaxJ1UDadjO6PYI7glSM4l2SJX2PXaqPY9ap8JOpbLOoP3drwl_XeCIgxp1bSuJxxHAQ_dU2fTAaIyWuInOM-KVBkPdmMNU9debhe3My1cXyGyduiqVMYXW7VbBZb8BK6D4sA3uUMGOI/s1600-h/shan+and+namma.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAJaxJ1UDadjO6PYI7glSM4l2SJX2PXaqPY9ap8JOpbLOoP3drwl_XeCIgxp1bSuJxxHAQ_dU2fTAaIyWuInOM-KVBkPdmMNU9debhe3My1cXyGyduiqVMYXW7VbBZb8BK6D4sA3uUMGOI/s320/shan+and+namma.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">See how cute my anutie and I are? Plus, also, if you ever need to go to Chick's for breakfast (and I highly recommend that you do) this is what it looks like:<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaZBfEw0iskXHioVp-Ef0IkuuCfRh3ML4F2sam9UrWVtmg5p9BR9c95zXFMN2MFVlOkfPMjMMFccNr-c6-PJ1c7Q0AyskUD69K3gZd89wTEF57nfWrL34ELxslxCCUbBXgSFcAmMCNI-Cj/s1600-h/chick's+025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaZBfEw0iskXHioVp-Ef0IkuuCfRh3ML4F2sam9UrWVtmg5p9BR9c95zXFMN2MFVlOkfPMjMMFccNr-c6-PJ1c7Q0AyskUD69K3gZd89wTEF57nfWrL34ELxslxCCUbBXgSFcAmMCNI-Cj/s320/chick's+025.JPG" /></a><br />
</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSIJcAkVcUGCTgENCgAydqp5ldpjs5uxuUo9v81Itam9Z0MHdY_LwKS6yGi8gqT3WoQIUbEk4bI0GjeNrV78LncZBfsNteX5SWDeXmMFCGZjj_7IPKl2ziN6gWO56h76-CniaqLOCy4h2q/s1600-h/chick's+026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSIJcAkVcUGCTgENCgAydqp5ldpjs5uxuUo9v81Itam9Z0MHdY_LwKS6yGi8gqT3WoQIUbEk4bI0GjeNrV78LncZBfsNteX5SWDeXmMFCGZjj_7IPKl2ziN6gWO56h76-CniaqLOCy4h2q/s320/chick's+026.JPG" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Plus it's address is something on Main Street in Heber. You should probably know what kind of an establishment it is too. I think that there are about 8 booths in the whole place and that's all. This is their typical clientele:<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvQJ99-7i0op820STQwo9uFOfBtCsWSpjdzT_Z4Ka22exJwsIjOFTLlbp6fuihoOBv3PXbA-ApZNxr_xzfVkd1cLPt_56c6zFQIY_LBLKnmJz_-n8wOJqtrMdoUmri5T9eZ5zAMNgtT2XA/s1600-h/chick's+027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvQJ99-7i0op820STQwo9uFOfBtCsWSpjdzT_Z4Ka22exJwsIjOFTLlbp6fuihoOBv3PXbA-ApZNxr_xzfVkd1cLPt_56c6zFQIY_LBLKnmJz_-n8wOJqtrMdoUmri5T9eZ5zAMNgtT2XA/s320/chick's+027.JPG" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrcd7H3OzWULy68H4Rvn2qEkUb1zohYAixhv_m2SfIveSaQOlDr9vZ10Nw8UIeEXmWdmvjlVuOqOSfVqCn6wn5FQ7xqT1TPbPKNqvwsUzugHa2MzKkOV5tJuiEYawFi5bkCS0qars3yKlR/s1600-h/chick's+030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrcd7H3OzWULy68H4Rvn2qEkUb1zohYAixhv_m2SfIveSaQOlDr9vZ10Nw8UIeEXmWdmvjlVuOqOSfVqCn6wn5FQ7xqT1TPbPKNqvwsUzugHa2MzKkOV5tJuiEYawFi5bkCS0qars3yKlR/s400/chick's+030.JPG" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That is real life manure on his boots with real life spurs. That's because they are all real life cowboys. And what kind of food do real life cowboys like to eat?<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjETQUssF-GtIT5LbxRCJuB4hHrbn-QkDQjyhkfxjogLfPrbfaqbzJgN-6qxS_q-6Zkx8SO8gFaaeodXgAbpIVLpXCYNCjpSUISYf-1dhk1j3uQugnJWsiCbKPmjrAA2jOVFbwWloOllnZB/s1600-h/chick's+028.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjETQUssF-GtIT5LbxRCJuB4hHrbn-QkDQjyhkfxjogLfPrbfaqbzJgN-6qxS_q-6Zkx8SO8gFaaeodXgAbpIVLpXCYNCjpSUISYf-1dhk1j3uQugnJWsiCbKPmjrAA2jOVFbwWloOllnZB/s320/chick's+028.JPG" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Incase you didn't notice it is DELICIOUS!!! That pancake is buckwheat, those hashbrowns are crunchy, and the bacon is pretty much a whole pigs worth. They have lots of other stuff that I'm sure is equally as wonderful, only I've never tasted it because I love this so much I don't dare mess with it.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Plus, also, on the way to Heber it was about -100 degrees. It was so cold that the reservoir was warmer than the air so steam came up off of the water. It was so beautiful that I took several photos:<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip87NavIZZWaFkuTqhllcCu0GQjuW2eADJXoNe_2Z_0WE2hPGnYWMpr9kxvZlvM1cM8fsRWQo9UHtTvtpI1lvgPAQv3zZjv5AwG6B2clwDXGWHpWVhrHuWF-jmhN6AYKDByatvm2DFfaSR/s1600-h/chick's+014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip87NavIZZWaFkuTqhllcCu0GQjuW2eADJXoNe_2Z_0WE2hPGnYWMpr9kxvZlvM1cM8fsRWQo9UHtTvtpI1lvgPAQv3zZjv5AwG6B2clwDXGWHpWVhrHuWF-jmhN6AYKDByatvm2DFfaSR/s320/chick's+014.JPG" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBATip90OYFPkCvAjoJRDwujIRkK8nk_W-iwif-3NaN_4GMPyCOVjFtay6zQYqhDsBXn4kD5sGzFssFMxXnItTlwJxpGCwe0Iy2TmPJbgElWi8shu13kfFySmBbtAmUUW63sIHbzg4BMYt/s1600-h/chick's+017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBATip90OYFPkCvAjoJRDwujIRkK8nk_W-iwif-3NaN_4GMPyCOVjFtay6zQYqhDsBXn4kD5sGzFssFMxXnItTlwJxpGCwe0Iy2TmPJbgElWi8shu13kfFySmBbtAmUUW63sIHbzg4BMYt/s320/chick's+017.JPG" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjsj0H3-XysxfyQiZ0gelL_AKPLCY2e8ZGqB-aOv2yfPaM7PCxFShsF999K4xwUZ0Gye0CmmSDVy_wIyPmQru92qBfargLNaIufXf8gAn7JrO66xfE0Hs_5S2EuoURLjeo6EbePb2XZmyr/s1600-h/chick's+019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjsj0H3-XysxfyQiZ0gelL_AKPLCY2e8ZGqB-aOv2yfPaM7PCxFShsF999K4xwUZ0Gye0CmmSDVy_wIyPmQru92qBfargLNaIufXf8gAn7JrO66xfE0Hs_5S2EuoURLjeo6EbePb2XZmyr/s320/chick's+019.JPG" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZVCWxLXO1GOgDW3KadtP6GYiPyShU4aGtOeuRfiJc4I5NaDK2E5AbXI_KZs5EVk5KvGeM1l2gmH3qp7Zkvwknt8242Sh08EKcB-euPq5xt0GtbWHDj5xk2mg8nWE7NGty3QThFydCZfqK/s1600-h/chick's+022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZVCWxLXO1GOgDW3KadtP6GYiPyShU4aGtOeuRfiJc4I5NaDK2E5AbXI_KZs5EVk5KvGeM1l2gmH3qp7Zkvwknt8242Sh08EKcB-euPq5xt0GtbWHDj5xk2mg8nWE7NGty3QThFydCZfqK/s320/chick's+022.JPG" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Plus, also, we went to the boutique, but it was only just a boutique and not Chick's. If any of you feel like you should maybe go to Chick's you are correct, only you cannot go without me.<br />
</div>Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-35564840426667272052009-12-02T23:16:00.004-07:002009-12-03T10:02:08.435-07:00Best Thanksgiving Ever<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've been needing to blog for a long time. Only guess what? I've not had one tiny minute to do so. I should be going to bed right now, but I'm going to see how much I can get done speedy quick. Also, this blog is a little longish, but most of it is photos so you should probably read it anyway.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Let's begin way back on November 22nd. That is the best day ever because it is my birthday. You may have noticed since I made Hillyerie blog about me. I had a most wonderful birthday. My most favorite part was everone telling me that they loved me. My almost as favorite part was the fantastic presents I got:</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYmcHHZ8Md3VwFij3fmj463fOx11wy1jHbMZtG7_6zYnyOQVC8n3EYqwoEGpGQW1Ep0dkIB_zyMMki2dR85pkP0bDNAHSn3sOwy3uMyZfTzf61knNEvXkUwtbncdjR6ENCbq2a5M560TeV/s1600-h/ence+thanksgiving+012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYmcHHZ8Md3VwFij3fmj463fOx11wy1jHbMZtG7_6zYnyOQVC8n3EYqwoEGpGQW1Ep0dkIB_zyMMki2dR85pkP0bDNAHSn3sOwy3uMyZfTzf61knNEvXkUwtbncdjR6ENCbq2a5M560TeV/s400/ence+thanksgiving+012.JPG" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I already showed off my Wicked calendar that Kesk got me, but it is so wonderful, I thought I should put it on again. I also got Bette Midler CDs from Aunt Kaye because she knows I LOVE Bette Midler. Hillyerie and Lynne got me the most fantastic red shoes. I actually got them last month, and I wear them so much I'm about to wear them right out already. For Christmas I'm going to take them back to their houses and have them fill them with homemade caramels. Plus, also, that Hillyerie, because she can't help herself, got me the slippers what that I LOVE and the ball. If you think that ball is a weird gift for a 34 year old, you may be correct, only I've wanted one for over a year. It is filled with a glittery liquid that is so hypnotizing. I used to take them away from my students and then sit and then play with them. Hank likes that present quite a bit too. We have to fight over it sometimes. Plus, also, I got a crock pot from my Amy friend. It was such a thoughtful gift because she knew I needed one. When I first moved into my current house, I didn't have an oven. I had to have some way of cooking, so I borrowed Amy's crock pot. I kept it for a very long time. Only don't feel too bad for Amy because I always brought what I made to lunch the next day for both of us. So, that Amy friend knew that I needed one and that I'd love one. Plus, also for my birthday, Hillyerie had me to her house for dinner. She made me birthday cheesecake as Ruby is so proudly showing off:</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpTkkHtAe-FF4OR9D-fNEFTkwJOj6ktq8s0O1BBZ0rQ_sG2IqU2vfNBHi-HkvRRFGlCMHFq3pXNHiPgExR2J8Ga85AUPK2Zp7p1wL3ZJugxrn-dPlB9IgUy3i7j2AazhUKUMSDcK0qReRf/s1600-h/ence+thanksgiving+009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpTkkHtAe-FF4OR9D-fNEFTkwJOj6ktq8s0O1BBZ0rQ_sG2IqU2vfNBHi-HkvRRFGlCMHFq3pXNHiPgExR2J8Ga85AUPK2Zp7p1wL3ZJugxrn-dPlB9IgUy3i7j2AazhUKUMSDcK0qReRf/s400/ence+thanksgiving+009.JPG" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That brings us to Thanksgiving. I think I quite possibly had the best Thanksgiving ever. I went to St. George to have it with the Ences. You may remember them from the blog I did in October about </span><a href="http://shanhaymore.blogspot.com/2009/10/dad-ence.html"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dad Ence</span></a><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> when he passed away. I have actually spent many a Thanksgiving with the Ences, but it's been a few years. I caught a lot of guff for it from them, but I blame Inkey:</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ibsLD0HxPXZ2EuqIf4LSmjtH9lnR6GYXF_qCBKJ2Ao41cj_uv8oTS-W5IPYAHciSOdQZdeDDccx1d5ONTB38mmBGJkuV00b7c63AeDtEo8cFY93wZPHJFgUhPkMx5hdu2Z6HBZGYYWxj/s1600-h/ence+thanksgiving+019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ibsLD0HxPXZ2EuqIf4LSmjtH9lnR6GYXF_qCBKJ2Ao41cj_uv8oTS-W5IPYAHciSOdQZdeDDccx1d5ONTB38mmBGJkuV00b7c63AeDtEo8cFY93wZPHJFgUhPkMx5hdu2Z6HBZGYYWxj/s320/ence+thanksgiving+019.JPG" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She went and got married and moved to St. George. It was hard for me to go down with her when she was already there and I didn't much want to invite myself. Now I know better and I will not make that mistake again. I think Inkey will be okay with me blaming her since she knows it's a pretty weak excuse and I'm grasping at straws here. So, anyway, I went to St. George and it was like coming home again. St. George has a special place in my heart. I decided that is probably because every time I go it is to be with the Ences. I don't have a care in the world because I leave all of that back in Utah County. I go and eat yummy food, play with Mom Ence, Inkey, and all of her sisters, shop, watch movies, eat more yummy food...I think you get the picture.</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After Thanksgiving we drug out the Christmas decorations and got busy decorating:</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWVk_madb9YKfxeD-c-fkqelTMwtdssngecXKNb4dHLfKL8j9shkhbxkA2Phth2WPHsu9BnosTMS1Euv2472JHME_uKu7fQkByG8xHMTTLAcJe2dXG6vQC7XN-Msy3VcfuwVZLIZnpypaW/s1600-h/ence+thanksgiving+026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWVk_madb9YKfxeD-c-fkqelTMwtdssngecXKNb4dHLfKL8j9shkhbxkA2Phth2WPHsu9BnosTMS1Euv2472JHME_uKu7fQkByG8xHMTTLAcJe2dXG6vQC7XN-Msy3VcfuwVZLIZnpypaW/s400/ence+thanksgiving+026.JPG" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love this photo of Inkey's little Aidan. He looks so tiny next to that monster tree. These are some photo of Inkey's husband, Phil, helping Holly's littles decorate the tree. </span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWD8oHm_GBemDKbAlFULL3u2yqrVuCmwXqZNHiiiIQOPMRqvcieai-ysJUtpTjivsTkWHXUl6lvUMepRKqTaeVNXVeVFGEl07tY3cswUIeyPhBJUYbqFsCScJXkUwuVYc094EBNGswCHIi/s1600-h/ence+thanksgiving+029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWD8oHm_GBemDKbAlFULL3u2yqrVuCmwXqZNHiiiIQOPMRqvcieai-ysJUtpTjivsTkWHXUl6lvUMepRKqTaeVNXVeVFGEl07tY3cswUIeyPhBJUYbqFsCScJXkUwuVYc094EBNGswCHIi/s400/ence+thanksgiving+029.JPG" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYY1Rr0Bpz3olj5bEHI-fvSRAodvZN2KThyQUXzPrRr2G827mvaS1HLcsdiWTxpznQoukZaVrw8GkSriPTa8_EHrIkJKRKMoEjQNzxYS_OiluZh4DqADY2ddcQ0ihAjE_DXTTS3en3v6zF/s1600-h/ence+thanksgiving+031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYY1Rr0Bpz3olj5bEHI-fvSRAodvZN2KThyQUXzPrRr2G827mvaS1HLcsdiWTxpznQoukZaVrw8GkSriPTa8_EHrIkJKRKMoEjQNzxYS_OiluZh4DqADY2ddcQ0ihAjE_DXTTS3en3v6zF/s320/ence+thanksgiving+031.JPG" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZhQhtOiw0n3-9dKuVV_vBi9KXtYga0JrqYau7NE7ZcfYb5uailoy04Q8z_2pQjZnyFKVnZbO5uKEmxKAd5UGGTmuQSiSdO3Ngs_q-bqPo80_7NmMrxPWna4KQYxN1rAREVmr0MPY2y12q/s1600-h/ence+thanksgiving+032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZhQhtOiw0n3-9dKuVV_vBi9KXtYga0JrqYau7NE7ZcfYb5uailoy04Q8z_2pQjZnyFKVnZbO5uKEmxKAd5UGGTmuQSiSdO3Ngs_q-bqPo80_7NmMrxPWna4KQYxN1rAREVmr0MPY2y12q/s400/ence+thanksgiving+032.JPG" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiokzWTbrSeUtxy_NnjPHNLlYwH1zL_5yE4Np67XIv0NMhjo8trQN1NrNqVNpnDcuwQRhkW_6vE0ds_mVnrrlP6rIkVMFJN5AYtWqjPWYqrMNtiPhh42ZrhW-sHPyF2HcUiYrNLpSnXNBsp/s1600-h/ence+thanksgiving+033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiokzWTbrSeUtxy_NnjPHNLlYwH1zL_5yE4Np67XIv0NMhjo8trQN1NrNqVNpnDcuwQRhkW_6vE0ds_mVnrrlP6rIkVMFJN5AYtWqjPWYqrMNtiPhh42ZrhW-sHPyF2HcUiYrNLpSnXNBsp/s400/ence+thanksgiving+033.JPG" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEkFxsad2kJf0PAj0P8PNw6uFm54Jr_O-NlVCWfqaGVPWFhY0y7mzpeYPkA2CyVoNRo-0gVW1umcSiwP0ioDzhBBZs2cFOg-SpIS6cWbsVGP9mmUGmARIRZ9-l_5eEIuq1q9cKw4zTqUpt/s1600-h/ence+thanksgiving+034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEkFxsad2kJf0PAj0P8PNw6uFm54Jr_O-NlVCWfqaGVPWFhY0y7mzpeYPkA2CyVoNRo-0gVW1umcSiwP0ioDzhBBZs2cFOg-SpIS6cWbsVGP9mmUGmARIRZ9-l_5eEIuq1q9cKw4zTqUpt/s320/ence+thanksgiving+034.JPG" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF6NFirwAyXsexuLqf0y0ess6RQ-sSw0kVw1GowJ84BB4qhpBccE_FROdp9mDZUbbJhyphenhyphenrs7MXnvwjWMss6HPUvkUZVyCkr2h4sIgqOt3kjtF6gRinKSvv7povMjHa8GType3qYSiYYtDwV/s1600-h/ence+thanksgiving+035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF6NFirwAyXsexuLqf0y0ess6RQ-sSw0kVw1GowJ84BB4qhpBccE_FROdp9mDZUbbJhyphenhyphenrs7MXnvwjWMss6HPUvkUZVyCkr2h4sIgqOt3kjtF6gRinKSvv7povMjHa8GType3qYSiYYtDwV/s400/ence+thanksgiving+035.JPG" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Plus, also, I took some photos of little Maddux, only I'm not sure what happened to them. He is such a cutie that I stole a photo of him from Inkey's blog:</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWgi3yn6t_qKNhv9PKBTHKP87_ytWJ0mga1i-579TJEe_gNkoHGNHp-CmoUJ7lm6GX3NCHGEPK2Kdio1ZXZ6na9lOYs4lK_G-AVkH_zqf6YqSGWj_faLmcMUTS3r0mDV_QlFrW2xFJzHE4/s1600-h/IMG_0766.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWgi3yn6t_qKNhv9PKBTHKP87_ytWJ0mga1i-579TJEe_gNkoHGNHp-CmoUJ7lm6GX3NCHGEPK2Kdio1ZXZ6na9lOYs4lK_G-AVkH_zqf6YqSGWj_faLmcMUTS3r0mDV_QlFrW2xFJzHE4/s320/IMG_0766.jpg" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think it's an oldish photo, but he was still exactly this cute last week. I also told Inkey that after spending time with Maddux and Aidan that I was going to have to expand my list of kids that I love best by two.</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On Black Friday no one was too interested in getting up at the crack of dawn to fight people for good deals. However, around 10:00 a.m. Inkey, Mom Ence, and I did wander down to Krumpet's. That store has the most wonderful of everything decorating-ish. Really, I could hardly stand it. I wanted pretty much everything. I limited myself to just a few things. All of them well under $10 and all of them Christmas decorations:</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTYsvdsDBGlIq64jBrKLrTcVw8VGCwRFT1dCdkC_WoW_vurBmkUoPL5AtYgAuJJESjRQUxTudYdhlGiiXFB-GTWvB75NNF4gnLO5KpXH_Trnrk2i1mGRhTYbODTWOhEiamo3I-Kfq5-t0L/s1600-h/ence+thanksgiving+040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTYsvdsDBGlIq64jBrKLrTcVw8VGCwRFT1dCdkC_WoW_vurBmkUoPL5AtYgAuJJESjRQUxTudYdhlGiiXFB-GTWvB75NNF4gnLO5KpXH_Trnrk2i1mGRhTYbODTWOhEiamo3I-Kfq5-t0L/s400/ence+thanksgiving+040.JPG" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWqlGjBPdqefmAzatBeo7aT1YQZpRELDC9ggB7Nv4H1T9WY6NBWPw4DZXrLD19VICU3cIeqLmf6oppViSkeE7Z5aW7ynAG2bydRNZjmlEGXlCWne9VWFB_kkCL5pp_rffD9PXuK8n8S9RP/s1600-h/ence+thanksgiving+042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWqlGjBPdqefmAzatBeo7aT1YQZpRELDC9ggB7Nv4H1T9WY6NBWPw4DZXrLD19VICU3cIeqLmf6oppViSkeE7Z5aW7ynAG2bydRNZjmlEGXlCWne9VWFB_kkCL5pp_rffD9PXuK8n8S9RP/s320/ence+thanksgiving+042.JPG" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTh2rLXM5FadAeyldXYeOQ8nyXWsJuRX5Yag0Tk36Lklf8nAesYXB9f0zvKiCs5ffnKW5bJaXVWdWaIcsHwh8XajDwjKLUdifgF8kFxgOoOTZMLh5cg3q4jkzrftiiRBabjtEN6SWI2TIJ/s1600-h/ence+thanksgiving+043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTh2rLXM5FadAeyldXYeOQ8nyXWsJuRX5Yag0Tk36Lklf8nAesYXB9f0zvKiCs5ffnKW5bJaXVWdWaIcsHwh8XajDwjKLUdifgF8kFxgOoOTZMLh5cg3q4jkzrftiiRBabjtEN6SWI2TIJ/s320/ence+thanksgiving+043.JPG" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMU8m2CA50ZRuWwbf2SGUTzX0a2cFR2gf7EPcI3ffkHzQfyi3PLvhfF6Azjpa0UIYdvOmXmuODXyAild5yAZlKZpbJhJlocRiI2wtn7140p0yfzNw7ctNKqiXjWDRjnIAnc1X7aGcbvb0I/s1600-h/ence+thanksgiving+045.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMU8m2CA50ZRuWwbf2SGUTzX0a2cFR2gf7EPcI3ffkHzQfyi3PLvhfF6Azjpa0UIYdvOmXmuODXyAild5yAZlKZpbJhJlocRiI2wtn7140p0yfzNw7ctNKqiXjWDRjnIAnc1X7aGcbvb0I/s320/ence+thanksgiving+045.JPG" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk3XJf_dpviY5F_VBjvCXD-EGZ4jvFVNzN-wFmeBu_9FGs5x6unGNLrKx8LO7QRFAeZvbJJxfuqHH58UxwHc8tviEdVlE3cs5OPmEIUPhsX8ndGY-TfYqXAjsGmHlxA4d9ZXJ66p6mCN9R/s1600-h/ence+thanksgiving+046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk3XJf_dpviY5F_VBjvCXD-EGZ4jvFVNzN-wFmeBu_9FGs5x6unGNLrKx8LO7QRFAeZvbJJxfuqHH58UxwHc8tviEdVlE3cs5OPmEIUPhsX8ndGY-TfYqXAjsGmHlxA4d9ZXJ66p6mCN9R/s320/ence+thanksgiving+046.JPG" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdbMZbItzLFo4i5fwmwd9HD89DPAWGNvBX6AEjYeXkpjt3zzPAG0E-QMkgeHDnsa_e5tpHZugsVRoE6HnuMI5yV9Ltn9a8qtwIZaeLivnT3wD3fD2VXKcAs90_0_v_TKecGkU5gbBCYMrS/s1600-h/ence+thanksgiving+047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" er="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdbMZbItzLFo4i5fwmwd9HD89DPAWGNvBX6AEjYeXkpjt3zzPAG0E-QMkgeHDnsa_e5tpHZugsVRoE6HnuMI5yV9Ltn9a8qtwIZaeLivnT3wD3fD2VXKcAs90_0_v_TKecGkU5gbBCYMrS/s640/ence+thanksgiving+047.JPG" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The snowflake and not the stocking is the decoration I got at Krumpet's. The stocking is one that Aunt Kaye made last Christmas. It's pretty cute too.</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've decided that the biggest problem I have with going to St. George is that I don't ever want to come back. Only too bad for me.</span><br />
</div>Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-59168539006351715752009-11-18T22:03:00.000-07:002009-11-18T22:03:51.460-07:00Finger Lickin' Good<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My house doesn't have an oven. Actually, that's not quite true. I have a very spendy Thermador double oven, only I can't use it. It has no oven racks and nobody can find any to fit. I know that sounds impossible, but it's true. I've lived here for a year and a half and still no oven. It is really and truly the only thing I can think of about this place that I don't love. My house is practically perfect in every way. Only good thing for me that my Auntie Kaye loves me and for my Birthday or Christmas or some such winter holiday last year she gave me the money to buy a convection oven. (On a very important side note my afore mentioned birthday is this Sunday, November 22, beginnig at 4:20 a.m. Not that I expect gifts and/or doting on, on that day. I'm just sayin'.) So, when Auntie gave me the money I did a lot of research and got the perfect one for me. It's much bigger than any other one I could find on the market. It bakes, convections, and rotisseries. It's actually perfect and I've not missed my oven one bit except if I want to cook something in a 9x13 pan. Which again, I usually don't because I only cook for me and I don't need a 9x13 pan of anything, except for maybe brownies or cake or cream cheese chicken. One of my favorite things to cook in my oven is rotisserie chicken. I'd been hankering for one, so last night I made one. It's turned out to be a fun activity for Hank:</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSdMgKZ1sDvnfSlClEYom6P95NmN5Iq6VZ6L5zlggi670E_7zbBFmr1_lWGv1OjmEZbSfqncZ8RNAwOvVD2k8cGgZTWksTwL7eDyQptWhcNwbgODeEZpeQkHQxD5jXPOnXI64OM0o6FLpk/s1600/rotisserie+chicken+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSdMgKZ1sDvnfSlClEYom6P95NmN5Iq6VZ6L5zlggi670E_7zbBFmr1_lWGv1OjmEZbSfqncZ8RNAwOvVD2k8cGgZTWksTwL7eDyQptWhcNwbgODeEZpeQkHQxD5jXPOnXI64OM0o6FLpk/s320/rotisserie+chicken+001.JPG" yr="true" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He sat and watched that Chicken rotate forever. If I were a cat, I'd think I'd want to keep my eye on a moving chicken too just incase it decided to rotate into my mouth. However, after a while he got tired:</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwB5s0zj19b7HFcQGOUAm_4FQ8wICwh2ta1fGmfXjX1ht2iMJkRg75gMnji9uYj_ZLQ5QpeZ-Q7N_khAyIrva4rJUZtCpkAFZiFekZR4uDAZxNsyWJ_zV9LLPm7zLoxpRrDbcnY0YEfZLd/s1600/rotisserie+chicken+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwB5s0zj19b7HFcQGOUAm_4FQ8wICwh2ta1fGmfXjX1ht2iMJkRg75gMnji9uYj_ZLQ5QpeZ-Q7N_khAyIrva4rJUZtCpkAFZiFekZR4uDAZxNsyWJ_zV9LLPm7zLoxpRrDbcnY0YEfZLd/s320/rotisserie+chicken+003.JPG" yr="true" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Note that he didn't quit watching, he just decided that he could watch it just as carefully while lying down. He's pretty much my favorite. </span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Plus, also, since this is a story about chicken, I should probably show you how scrum-diddly-umptious it turned out:</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI1wjynXuHL-qGTFm5StEqcrT4uXfld7xrL65RY0ZFtvqZZy7_wFTlkWKoFGHR5LkrHlWtoScbeAoDVaUcTdlxscF11tJvAJHhQxlo0lV1MU6TML5kjlQ89MHAF_VG375MXDRV8mDF60YT/s1600/rotisserie+chicken+010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI1wjynXuHL-qGTFm5StEqcrT4uXfld7xrL65RY0ZFtvqZZy7_wFTlkWKoFGHR5LkrHlWtoScbeAoDVaUcTdlxscF11tJvAJHhQxlo0lV1MU6TML5kjlQ89MHAF_VG375MXDRV8mDF60YT/s320/rotisserie+chicken+010.JPG" yr="true" /></span></a><br />
</div><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And that's all. The end.</span>Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-85856623024905534802009-11-16T22:06:00.005-07:002009-11-16T22:21:32.707-07:00A Pretty Much Perfect Day<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dear "Hurbilly" Anonamous Commentor, This blog is maybe a bit "long winded" for you, so you may want to not read it if you think it will be too taxing to look up all the big words in the dictionary as you read. I'm just sayin'. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I feel like I want to blog today, but I'm not sure what to blog about. I just had one of those days where at the end you feel content and like you accomplished what you wanted to. Those days seem to be rare because I always want to get a lot more done than I ususally do. Maybe you should just have a play-by-play of my day and then you'll know about how productive I really was.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">6:00 a.m.--This doesn't sound like a pleasant hour at all, but it was because I got up to be on conference call with Julianne, my Mary Kay National Director. Incase you think she's crazy for having everyone call at 6:00 a.m. or I'm crazy for doing it, she also has a 7:00 p.m. on Sunday night one for those of us that are morningly challenged. I <em>could</em> have gotten on that one last night but a couple of people I know were yacking my ears off and I missed it. (You know who you are.) Good thing I love their guts :) You probably remember Julianne because it was her good thing idea for me to go to New York and see Wicked. I love that lady because she has good ideas. She's always so excited and before you know it you are excited too. You don't necessarily know why, but it doesn't matter because excited is always a good thing.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">7:30 a.m.--I went to school. I had not been there since last Tuesday because of the death illness that didn't quite kill me but left me mostly dead for about 4 days. I was somewhat behind, needless to say, but I got caught up lickety split and the kids missed me sorely. Having a sub for a few days will do that to them. Sometimes I'm tempted to stay home just so they will love me more when I get back. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">8:00 a.m.--I taught my first period and we did a fun thing that they enjoyed. They got to work in groups so they hardly noticed at all that they were learning hard stuff that they hate. It's easier to be happy at school when all the littles are happy too. Plus, it's nice when you have those days were you feel like you are a good teacher because you came up with an awesome activity.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">9:50--I was eavesdropping on my 3rd period class as they worked in their groups. I am very good at working at my desk while listening to 4 or 5 conversations at once. It never occurs to them that I'm listening to what they are saying. A group of 3 boys was having a conversation that involved "that time of the month." What do 13 and 14 year old boys know about "that time of the month," I ask you? And furthermore, why would they talk about it? I don't have an answer because I missed the beginning of the conversation. I decided that it was a good thing that they didn't know I was listening because them I'm off the hook for having to ask them why they were talking about that.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">11:45--Lunch. Yummy tomato soup in the quietness of my room.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">12:15--Lots more teaching until...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3:00--I got a phone call from one very small Roxie that was missing me and wanted me to come and see her. I'm pretty sure she is my biggest fan. At least in the under 4 year old category. It broke my heart a tiny bit.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3:10--I left school and went to see my new <a href="http://shanhaymore.blogspot.com/2009/11/nerve.html">Nevin</a> friend. I had a HUGE bee in my bonnet and he was very helpful in how to handle that very pesky bee.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">5:15--Hillyerie did not answer her phone even though she knew it was Monday after 5:00, and I was going to tell her about how the bee conversation turned out.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">6:00--Delivered some Mary Kay product in Highland. I wandered around a bit looking for the place, but when I got there I was rewarded with $50.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">6:20--Delivered some more Mary Kay product in American Fork. This time I was rewarded with $70.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">6:35--Went to Walmart. Found a filter for my humidifier and a fun Christmas thing.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">7:10--Panda Express orange chicken dinner--Yummy!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">7:30--I went to Roxie's house to see her and the other zoo animals that live there. I was not rewarded with money but with something even better--lots of snuggles and loves from all three animals. Plus, I managed to hear Family Home Evening AND get my birthday present. Best idea I had all day was to go there. This is what my present was:</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWbG5LtU9hiot4mPNPMruTzA6VAQGHOLZj4NcbwcQ_1ASrjjnaZpwaMCvWxq7nkCD4nHIqI7UtCBwUDFWlTYmBTnl3sqgo6n1sWt5FXv8G9XGXM-L04Op3D0yIJuuNZ-LP6itsWAdALhLu/s1600/034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWbG5LtU9hiot4mPNPMruTzA6VAQGHOLZj4NcbwcQ_1ASrjjnaZpwaMCvWxq7nkCD4nHIqI7UtCBwUDFWlTYmBTnl3sqgo6n1sWt5FXv8G9XGXM-L04Op3D0yIJuuNZ-LP6itsWAdALhLu/s400/034.JPG" yr="true" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It is the biggest, most wonderful Wicked calendar ever. The photos are huge and the actual calendar is small, as it should be.</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">8:30--Came home, changed in to my warm jammies, and loved on Hank a bit.</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">9:15--Blogged.</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">See how full and productive and fun that whole day was? Now to top it all off, I'm going to snuggle into bed and have a sleep. Yey me. I hope you all had a day that was equally as great.</span><br />
</div>Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-77736967239261895292009-11-14T16:32:00.003-07:002009-11-14T16:47:32.108-07:00Polyanna<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I was in the 4th grade I read the book Pollyanna. It became my favorite book and I was mad at that Haley Mills for making a movie about it that wasn't as good as my imagination. Only that's not my point, just a bitter side note. My point is that Pollyanna always played the glad game. No matter what the horribleness, she managed to find something to be glad about it. Today I decided to play the glad game. Here is the horribleness that I'm having to find gladness about:</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWyRrEMP0OiIbD9TRju6p4MGCcm6WUvNBxVTIyLEETNFi44T3QwHBNJOUURRsfgulxEp3odj_NPeoTIRw7kpXko3V4_dV3YUlLhL5WfZOwyhmidURdSNOh6HS0Qu4Ix-zewFVzQz1X1541/s1600/11-14-2009+016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" sr="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWyRrEMP0OiIbD9TRju6p4MGCcm6WUvNBxVTIyLEETNFi44T3QwHBNJOUURRsfgulxEp3odj_NPeoTIRw7kpXko3V4_dV3YUlLhL5WfZOwyhmidURdSNOh6HS0Qu4Ix-zewFVzQz1X1541/s320/11-14-2009+016.JPG" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" sr="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBtKWptxeDt64RUa90_BrdJtGtPv5eKIt2-mNQWhKuVAbJikFTetUo7cVfxAcD6yXYNwZvCTZ4KrWdr9eaZx_zVJqUVJaeugzusk2P6LV9sXe8QypI4D6IEGvccFMR7-ykgBXdoJXzkJ7d/s320/11-14-2009+017.JPG" /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" sr="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhGcXpYG1-EzfMP3zwenctBu5IgmjfsnmySEnNkHhOFLBM4-uDLmjKL_OMljMTJ1ad_00n5srPtQXDL-inMf0aU5z-i_TkIL_cuABHNQ0B7RMVLC-3tvwPlIQ7k0Jg8coDIWNUviyO5BEO/s320/11-14-2009+022.JPG" /></span><br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think that snow and cold is in my top 3 things that I don't love. One thing that I do love about it is that it puts me in the mood for this:</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-NMx_5foIMUqrfZCqI4BRwm0SYdbUEc2lrw7eHcYgxvCxl96TRNOUSswpXwhdjuLZWsNrpDadBgTAYRgg_wE7UeDQzVSTlhWCfMWBVawpLM7oyKHX8l6LscksWpXn9UBLIYW0unM9uKFq/s1600-h/hank+tree+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" sr="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-NMx_5foIMUqrfZCqI4BRwm0SYdbUEc2lrw7eHcYgxvCxl96TRNOUSswpXwhdjuLZWsNrpDadBgTAYRgg_wE7UeDQzVSTlhWCfMWBVawpLM7oyKHX8l6LscksWpXn9UBLIYW0unM9uKFq/s320/hank+tree+4.jpg" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I LOVE Christmas and Christmas lights. I decided that if it was going to look like Christmas outside, then I'd enjoy my lights on the inside. Hank enjoys them as well. </span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The snow and cold also makes me want to have this:</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia2M7oPoyAs9pN1vud5mFHkpXitE4zsKzmtAZSucX50iUwmdC8A6OeRoTstSG6KL4BWO7Ty20wwl7l2OSG6O86e97cd22e8KaW9qNdChqx9rf3hERTxbB24DfwSwaEKu2uafsXByj4o1sw/s1600-h/11-14-2009+020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" sr="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia2M7oPoyAs9pN1vud5mFHkpXitE4zsKzmtAZSucX50iUwmdC8A6OeRoTstSG6KL4BWO7Ty20wwl7l2OSG6O86e97cd22e8KaW9qNdChqx9rf3hERTxbB24DfwSwaEKu2uafsXByj4o1sw/s320/11-14-2009+020.JPG" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think that wassail is one of the few redeeming qualities of winter. I love the orangey, spicey, sugary goodenss. So, I had some today. Since I've still got a yucky head and throat, it was a pleasure. Only there was something that was even more of a pleasure than the wassail:</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOOWl1_KZQKDundP3LatKxXaZx0__amLfNF9m6AxvGkH3xzmbQpoLC5TcIFYVJLaRPB_HEU7zzk4GkPICpaWdKXlSSwMfQ3RQZCFl4J7DpHJWYh3qyybfSkMC0sJ3iAexwLeOH6HNcJcFi/s1600-h/11-14-2009+019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" sr="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOOWl1_KZQKDundP3LatKxXaZx0__amLfNF9m6AxvGkH3xzmbQpoLC5TcIFYVJLaRPB_HEU7zzk4GkPICpaWdKXlSSwMfQ3RQZCFl4J7DpHJWYh3qyybfSkMC0sJ3iAexwLeOH6HNcJcFi/s320/11-14-2009+019.JPG" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yup, my mug has a cat in the bottom of it that peeks out at you as you drink your beverage. When I was a wee one my mama's cousin Hazel had a mug with a frog in the bottom of it. One day she made me some hot chocolate and told me that if I'd drink it all, there was a surprise for me at the bottom of the mug. Can you imagine the delight of my 4 year old heart when I saw that frog? My sister bought me this cat mug several years ago because she knew how much I loved that frog mug. So, I'm glad that the cold brings Christmas and wassail and cat mugs.</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span>Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-15065677361280110412009-11-12T20:44:00.001-07:002009-11-12T20:45:46.463-07:00Snogginess and Such<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I meant to blog sooner only I've been sick. And by sick I mean <strong>S-I-C-K</strong>. The kind that leaves you floating in and out of consciousness for a couple of days. I'm feeling a little better tonight after two days of sleeping and a long, hot bath tonight. I'll probably live. Who do I blame for this affliction? </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9koCG-Sw2SdZSqmOORBp9FNwi9lBN7DaZpMe2rRqX_eCk6YuuWwV4LLbghQgWFHzWsfI7DbK0vzwimk-MJPkYUGk7dKBzpuhyCYOOIxc_Zvno_XH32YWnbC4TEJ59hcjSBg2HoG3DByub/s1600-h/rubes+photoshopped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" sr="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9koCG-Sw2SdZSqmOORBp9FNwi9lBN7DaZpMe2rRqX_eCk6YuuWwV4LLbghQgWFHzWsfI7DbK0vzwimk-MJPkYUGk7dKBzpuhyCYOOIxc_Zvno_XH32YWnbC4TEJ59hcjSBg2HoG3DByub/s320/rubes+photoshopped.jpg" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ruby, that's who! I happened to see her a few days ago and she was all snoggy, as Hillyerie says. I really don't think she got me sick because what I have is far worse that a little snogginess, but she's as good as anyone to blame. Plus, also, if I blame her then I can include that cute photo of her, which is my true motive.</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Before my affliction I was going to blog about grocery shopping. Mostly because I needed to go so badly that my fridge looked like this:</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgudei8SMyqj7Og5ybPq6GZqMCMY84wGPoY616sWWpHY565KbUqpCRQbUxBjYKbcszSb9JHjbBnJWt45g2OH3cVHrRU1-dYYo7CL6NzB-7wxn8e1hyphenhypheneLCl9QCLaGdlXkq0_ZV1_kmT_X7jn/s1600-h/000_0015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" sr="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgudei8SMyqj7Og5ybPq6GZqMCMY84wGPoY616sWWpHY565KbUqpCRQbUxBjYKbcszSb9JHjbBnJWt45g2OH3cVHrRU1-dYYo7CL6NzB-7wxn8e1hyphenhypheneLCl9QCLaGdlXkq0_ZV1_kmT_X7jn/s320/000_0015.jpg" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Incase you didn't notice I only had corn tortillas, applesauce, eggs, a couple of Diet Cokes and a couple of bottled waters. That's because school teachers only get paid once a month, and toward the end of the month when the food is gone, it's gone. Then blessed pay day came and my fridge looked like this:</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-hqbmMpmApwgRBn0Qmbjb_-Vsc-R6kt0AQXMblFaokg_bRz0aK-XC1dGzAOLbhWckdJq6dzkcrVOyhRk3SWsYOVgZKK1lHDP1ANdTBfyL0wah1vN99FGwufYR1Z5uOzs23Q_xVol8qw9b/s1600-h/000_0019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" sr="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-hqbmMpmApwgRBn0Qmbjb_-Vsc-R6kt0AQXMblFaokg_bRz0aK-XC1dGzAOLbhWckdJq6dzkcrVOyhRk3SWsYOVgZKK1lHDP1ANdTBfyL0wah1vN99FGwufYR1Z5uOzs23Q_xVol8qw9b/s320/000_0019.jpg" /></span></a><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Do you see how relieved Hank is? He's looking at actual fruits and veggies and meats and cheeses. I guess the moral of this blog is that if I happen to show up on your doorstep around dinner time, check to see if it's the last week of the month and you'll know why.</span>Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-25649329229124584992009-11-07T23:14:00.066-07:002009-11-08T09:46:48.433-07:00Summit<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Today I had a super-fun Mary Kay conference what that is named Summit. Only it wasn't just any conference because I got to speak. I got to speak about my tip to New York. What does Mary Kay have to do with Kesk and I going to New York, you ask? Well, I'm going to tell you. Only I'm going to tell you by letting you read my speech. This works out for me in a couple of ways. First of all, you get the story and secondly, I have a record of my speech. I want to make sure I document this because it was such a powerful, important thing for me. Before you get to read my speech I think I should introduce you to my Mary Kay friends that will read about. The first photo is of me and my Amy friend. I think you are probably acquainted with her and how much I love her guts.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb6_CSiCTPBNmCGcExeTY2rrwlpuaoIeTVxjsEHzPaTrT4LNCOC8O0HNXHCSngmVqvIGknEBMCd_QYWM1Q9j4GC9EJPc0PTSg6oOYmKNikcXeUAFiBxk5slyCRaz9gnv22SRPz4g1PEwhH/s1600-h/ams+shan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" sr="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb6_CSiCTPBNmCGcExeTY2rrwlpuaoIeTVxjsEHzPaTrT4LNCOC8O0HNXHCSngmVqvIGknEBMCd_QYWM1Q9j4GC9EJPc0PTSg6oOYmKNikcXeUAFiBxk5slyCRaz9gnv22SRPz4g1PEwhH/s320/ams+shan.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Then there is my Laurie friend. She's sure a good egg.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQjXqR8fQiKkktOjsnTASc908Mk1M7iXNeFkTs03fzmAnlb6PvuNSBmY-f9KNcp3Na3TyMOz0ezz2Nc3vJPtAL_hlVwMhGOUjU1gpe_sneNXCjFDxanVQhC3Mi8861JWeIRG4pwDkc48i_/s1600-h/shan+and+laurie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" sr="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQjXqR8fQiKkktOjsnTASc908Mk1M7iXNeFkTs03fzmAnlb6PvuNSBmY-f9KNcp3Na3TyMOz0ezz2Nc3vJPtAL_hlVwMhGOUjU1gpe_sneNXCjFDxanVQhC3Mi8861JWeIRG4pwDkc48i_/s320/shan+and+laurie.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">And finally, Julianne. She is the one that I actually have to thank for my most fabulous trip and a present she gave me, as you will soon see.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWkKHx_PiFXTBbFGpoo2yhRKaTpPmeKEQ88gCJMarwGyNCNXbVmYKkxfQ5dulgBGgik26BKpMg9nXfKxXgDViN4YWhEXVzJhPIUwIEA7ddGC2pkIAtFlrnzeY3UE4Jt9U62JoG7elvU-Qf/s1600-h/shan+and+julianne+in+MK+office.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" sr="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWkKHx_PiFXTBbFGpoo2yhRKaTpPmeKEQ88gCJMarwGyNCNXbVmYKkxfQ5dulgBGgik26BKpMg9nXfKxXgDViN4YWhEXVzJhPIUwIEA7ddGC2pkIAtFlrnzeY3UE4Jt9U62JoG7elvU-Qf/s320/shan+and+julianne+in+MK+office.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Now for the speech--<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Good afternoon! When Julianne asked me to speak to you today about the power of a dream I felt deeply honored, a lot inadequate, but mostly I felt terrified. I just hope you can hear my heart today incase my words don’t come out the way my heart would like them too.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A little about me and my journey is that I started my MK business about a year and a half ago. I was, and still am, an 8th grade English teacher. There are a couple of reasons I decided to start. The first one is Amy Haider. In addition to being my director she is also a coworker and best friend. Back before she was my director and had just started her own MK business, she invited me to her parties. Of course I went because I’m pretty sure I’m her number one fan, and I wanted to support her. Which on a side note, actually brings me to my second reason for starting MK…every time I went to one of Amy’s events, Laurie Ashby would give me a call to follow up. After 9 months of telling Laurie no, I decided that if I signed maybe she’d quit calling me. Boy was I wrong about that! I really can’t shake her now. Truthfully, I’m just teasing Laurie a bit because I liked her so much I actually looked forward to Laurie calling. Looking back, I realize that if you can call someone repeatedly for 9 months to follow-up and they still look forward to the call, you are pretty much amazing. However, before Laurie wore me down I had no intention of ever becoming a consultant until the day Amy came to work and told me that she decided she was really going to do this MK thing for real and quit teaching school. If there is one thing that I cannot abide by it is being left behind or left out. I was not going to be left in that Jr. High alone while Amy played with makeup. I guess it’s true that when you can’t beat ‘em, you join ‘em. What I know for sure about all of that is that starting my MK business has been one of the most important decisions of my life. I have experienced immeasurable personal growth, come to recognize my strengths, and have had the opportunity to work on my weaknesses. </span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of the greatest things I’ve learned is the power of a dream. I find it ironic that I’m speaking today about that because before MK I’d never dared to dream. I was raised with scarcity mentality. My focus was always on what I didn’t have instead of what I wanted. Surviving from day to day was enough. However, when I started MK everyone seemed to be obsessed with dreams and goals and they always wanted to know what mine were. Since I honestly couldn’t wrap my head around what that really meant, I’d just make something up that sounded good. Then one day last December just making one up to didn’t work out so much for me. I was on my way to St. George for the futurity trip and I had the chance to ride for a while with Julianne. Practically before we got out of the parking lot she began to talk to me about my dreams. I didn’t know what to say. Dreams were frivolous things for people who could afford them. Only apparently, I was wrong. Julianne was having none of that, and I’m not so sure she would have let me out of the car until I had a dream that I could get excited about. That is the first step to building a dream—it must be something from your heart. This was tough for me because I had to push aside years of scarcity mentality—years of thinking that I never had enough, and I had to start thinking in terms of abundance, because I found that dreams don’t come cheap. Julianne and I threw around a couple of ideas, but nothing spoke to me until the heavens opened up and choirs of angels began to sing. You think I’m kidding, but I swear I heard them singing and the songs they sang were from the musical Wicked! One thing I knew I wanted to do more than anything was to see that play and see it on Broadway in NY. </span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now that I actually had a dream that I was excited about I thought I was done. Julianne would be happy with that, right? Come to find out, I was wrong about that too. She started asking me pesky detail questions that forced me to really envision what that dream would look like for me. One of the things she wanted to know was who I would take with me. I have a friend that is a little bit obsessed with Wicked like me, and I knew that she was the one who needed to go with me. It was something she would probably never do for herself, but it was a gift that I could give to her. </span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, let’s be clear ladies…I don’t know how many of you have ever ridden with Julianne or in a car like hers, but you are eyeball to eyeball in that thing, breathing the very same air. Personal space is not an option. In that kind of environment you’ll commit to most anything. You’ll commit because who wants to be disagreeable with someone you are sitting that close to in a car that is going 90 mph? I sure didn’t and so even though I never believed that I’d really go to NY, I sure as heck told Julianne that I would. Only too bad for me, because I was officially in the dream making business and Julianne was not going to let me forget it. Which brings us to another crucial part of making your dreams come true—you must tell someone about it! If no one else knows what your dream is, you probably won’t accomplish it. It’s so easy for us to let ourselves off the hook when things get difficult. However, someone else expecting you to do it is a strong motivator. In my case Julianne wasn’t the only one who knew because if I remember correctly, and I do, she promptly told everyone in the continental United States. </span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">T</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">he next step and by far the scariest one for me was telling my friend that I was planning on taking her to NY to see Wicked. That is truly the point of no return. Someone else knowing is important, but if your dream involves your family or friends, you must commit to them too. It’s a lot harder to disappoint the ones you love. A couple of weeks after that fateful drive with Julianne I gave my friend 3 boxes for Christmas. Since Wicked is about the Wicked Witch of the West and Glinda from The Wizard of Oz, she got a witch hat in one box with some clever poem I wrote, a broom in the other with another clever poem, and in the 3rd box was a copy of the itinerary of our trip, a NY photo album, a NY calendar to count down the days, and of course another clever poem. I’m pretty sure there was a 30 second period where she didn’t breathe. To be honest, I wasn’t breathing either. What had I done? </span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Something I learned real quick about dreams is that they require a lot of planning! They don’t just happen. I had to do quite a bit of homework if this was going to work. I had to find out how much it was all going to cost and then figure out how I was going to pay for it. I had to research airfare, hotel, Wicked ticket prices, the cost of the tourist attractions that we’d want to see, food and cab money and of course shopping money. Since I didn’t have a few thousand dollars hanging around I had to break it all down month by month and week by week. I figured I needed an extra $300 a month. Really, that was only 6 miracle sets or a few extra parties a month. When you break it down like that, it feels less overwhelming and more obtainable. I set up a NY savings account that I did not touch unless it was for NY. The first thing I bought were the Wicked tickets. A couple of months later I got our airfare. Next came the hotel. </span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">B</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">it by bit my dream became a reality, and on October 18, 2009 at 8:00 pm Eastern Standard Time, to be exact, I was sitting 5th row back, center section of the Gershwin Theater in NYC living my dream. Even though my friend and I had been in NY for a couple of days, it wasn’t until that moment that it really hit me that I can accomplish whatever I want. I felt so proud of myself because for the first time in my life I set a huge goal and I hung in there and did it. I think we frequently worry about trusting other people, but for the first time ever I realized that I could trust myself. I did what I said I would do. It also hit me in that theater that I did not do this alone, and I was so grateful for all those that helped me along the way. Lest you believe my journey was all smiles and fluffy bunnies, know that there were many bumpy days where I wanted to give up. But, here’s the good news: because I was surrounded by positive people that loved and believed in me, when those times came I had my own cheering section. You cannot achieve a dream without these people. In fact, if you surround yourself with Debbie Downers I dare say that when you feel discouraged you will give up for sure because Debbie Downers will only pull you down more. On the days I thought I must be crazy for thinking I could take someone to NY, I would inevitably get an email from Julianne asking me how it was going and telling me how awesome I was. However, on a day to day basis I relied heavily on my MK friends and director like Amy and Laurie and even Deanna was checking in on me. They have dried more than their fair share of my tears. On the flip side, it also meant the world to me that they weren’t just there for my bumps and bruises, they were always the first ones there to help me celebrate my successes. YOU HAVE GOT TO SURROUND YOURSELF WITH PEOPLE WHO BELIEVE IN YOU! Involve your directors because they are just itching to see you grow and succeed, and conveniently enough, they actually know how to get you there. </span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> don’t know how many of you have seen the play Wicked or are familiar with the music, but there is a song called Defying Gravity. Some of the lyrics say, “Something has changed within me, something is not the same. I’m through with playing by the rules of someone else’s game. Too late for second guessing, too late to go back to sleep. It’s time to trust my instincts, close my eyes and leap. It’s time to try defying gravity. I think I’ll try defying gravity, and you can’t pull me down.” </span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">n my own way, I defied gravity. Now that I know what I can do, there is no going back. It only gets bigger and better from here. If you don’t have a dream, get one! What speaks to your heart? Is it a trip, a house, a gift for a loved one? It doesn’t matter, as long as it is something from your heart. Do you know what the power of accomplishing a dream really is? Sure you get something fun from it, but more importantly it gives you self-confidence, you will experience personal growth like never before as you stretch to make it happen, and it will give you hope. Hope for something better and a vision of who you can become. Think of how you want to defy gravity and then make it happen! Thank you.</span></span><br />
</div><br />
During the speech Julianne showed photos of the trip on a couple of huge screens and then when it was all over, she played "Defying Gravity" as everyone cheered and clapped. It was so amazing and I felt honored to be able to tell my story. After all said clapping and cheering was done, Julianne loved on me for a minute and said some really nice things and then she gave me a present. I was not expecting that and when I saw it I squeeled like a little girl. Lucky for you, I have photos:<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3IUGC7_XSODg61LnrarJX1d3o8SkrzUWr2z6DINs74zt6ZZD7ezi3mVMWU9SuYMqlMa3GW7FFNsdnvoIdDBDbWDOw-TTu5gYlx3zwGFGh6z6D_PiA-mJqxRjm0HA1U1lhAYY6w1zNW2Ju/s1600-h/nessa+rose.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" sr="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3IUGC7_XSODg61LnrarJX1d3o8SkrzUWr2z6DINs74zt6ZZD7ezi3mVMWU9SuYMqlMa3GW7FFNsdnvoIdDBDbWDOw-TTu5gYlx3zwGFGh6z6D_PiA-mJqxRjm0HA1U1lhAYY6w1zNW2Ju/s320/nessa+rose.jpg" /></a><br />
You're eyes do not decieve you because that is a Barbie collector's doll. The only Barbie I have ever loved. She got me the Nessa Rose doll, which those of you who are not acquainted with Wicked, would call The Wicked Witch of th East. And when you push a button it sings, "Ding, Dong, the Witch is Dead."<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC6FMcXvWbwJzjuv1amwGl3sN69dUz4uCq8GS2HkWUmcpQd3HTh6FdBfsjhyDpLUrTofUkUl-MmQ5i_eqpuHm30CvCGBGJjCAmiqoan2zYgABQocFJvi_JcSwMyqkevFaChrEaIGFr1F6K/s1600-h/nessa+rose+close+up.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" sr="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC6FMcXvWbwJzjuv1amwGl3sN69dUz4uCq8GS2HkWUmcpQd3HTh6FdBfsjhyDpLUrTofUkUl-MmQ5i_eqpuHm30CvCGBGJjCAmiqoan2zYgABQocFJvi_JcSwMyqkevFaChrEaIGFr1F6K/s320/nessa+rose+close+up.jpg" /></a><br />
She looks really pretty and really grumpy because in the TRUE story she was both of those things. She was also not-so-nice and to prove that you should probably know that it is her fault that the Tin man became the Tin man and doesn't have a heart. Also, look at her tiny little stripey legs and ruby slippers:<br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgOszOQP73mcdfBETQmVj4QX-JR4raopfWOD6-4hzELq6BNOvfeNepVT-p9UsWfxunS0_SdfHgIeVNMJ_eVcLzi_DwK5SwFK0jLhwcMUs6WWyfl1IP-8mbpqsJ0sm8vJSn8cnGszbI8zT8/s1600-h/nessa+rose+shoes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: left; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" sr="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgOszOQP73mcdfBETQmVj4QX-JR4raopfWOD6-4hzELq6BNOvfeNepVT-p9UsWfxunS0_SdfHgIeVNMJ_eVcLzi_DwK5SwFK0jLhwcMUs6WWyfl1IP-8mbpqsJ0sm8vJSn8cnGszbI8zT8/s320/nessa+rose+shoes.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">I wanted to open her and get a good look at her, only Julianne about stroked out because apparently you can't open collector's editions or they are not collectable so much anymore. I didn't think a peek would hurt, but apparently it does.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">All in all it was a most wonderful and "wicked" day!<br />
</div>Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-36237538275314931182009-11-06T13:29:00.003-07:002009-11-06T13:33:04.424-07:00The Nerve!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1fup6B6XuNvI0JM567Lq_EmbDODXdwZwACP3L2AGu4fL1hXROS6xIq5iOzeFBDKwtxtgavx4o5LZAFZvlA-9PxgbwBI3zyMGejPrl_pQAz0RB5Z2iuOhSroY7SqPxTZJC5T35YYk0p8X8/s1600-h/jitcrunch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" sr="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1fup6B6XuNvI0JM567Lq_EmbDODXdwZwACP3L2AGu4fL1hXROS6xIq5iOzeFBDKwtxtgavx4o5LZAFZvlA-9PxgbwBI3zyMGejPrl_pQAz0RB5Z2iuOhSroY7SqPxTZJC5T35YYk0p8X8/s320/jitcrunch.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's time for me to come clean...I'm crazy. Okay, so maybe crazy isn't totally accurate, but it's not totally inaccurate either. I'm guessing that this isn't really a newsflash to the handful of you that read my blog. Maybe a better description than crazy is that sometimes I tend to lean toward the "glass is half-empty" side of things. I've taken every pill on the market and talked myself blue with therapists. If you promise not to tell anyone, I'll even admit that I've been hospitalized and had my brain shocked for it. One day maybe I'll tell you some of my stories from the psych ward. I met Jesus there and delivered an alien baby in the middle of the night for starters. However, that will have to wait for another day because this blog is about something else.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's been a couple of years since I've seen a therapist because I had one for a long time named Erin that I know Heavenly Father put on the earth just for me. She patched me up pretty good and I had my brain shocked, so life was a pleasure and I had no need. The last several months, however, life has slowly felt less pleasurable and more glass half-emptyish again. Since being sad is not my best or most favorite feature, I decided to go back to therapy. I called Family Support and Treatment Center in Orem because they are so wonderful at that place. I’ve always had a girl therapist because who wants to tell their feelings to a boy? Not me, that's who. They happen to be on my list of reasons that I have a therapist in the first place. However, I failed to mention that when I called for the appointment. The nice receptionist put me on a waiting list and 6 weeks later I got a call telling me there was an opening. The same nice receptionist girl left me a message telling me that my new emotional best friend's name was Nevin Alderman and would Mondays at 4:00 be okay? I called her back and my conversation with the receptionist went a little like this:</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"So, my new therapists name is Nevin, huh? That sounds suspiciously like a boy's name."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Yes, Nevin is a boy. He's super nice."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Oh, I'm, sure he is, only I'm also pretty sure I don't want to find out how nice. I don't know if I want to talk to a boy. I’ve tried to convince myself that I’d be okay, but now I'm thinking maybe not. Only I don't know as I want to wait another forever hoping that a girl therapist gets an opening. So, basically I don't know what I want to do. What do you think?"</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Well, Nevin really is so nice. We really love him here. Why don't you just come in once and give it a try? If you can't do it, then I know he'll be happy to help you figure out what to do."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I decided to do what she said. After all, my first appointment was a week away and I had plenty of time to chicken out. All week I convinced myself that I was feeling pretty good and not so depressed anymore. The closer Monday came the more I wanted to puke, so I decided that I'd call and just cancel all together. The Monday of my appointment I was having lunch with my Amy friend and telling her my plan to just not have therapy at all. She told me basically what the receptionist did and that there was a reason I went to the trouble to get the appointment, so I'd might as well go and see what happens. What was the worst that could happen? Mostly puking was the worst so I decided that she had a point, and I didn't call and cancel. However, I did decide that as soon as I got there I'd tell him that it was nothing personal, but I didn't like him and would prefer a girl therapist or maybe none at all. I would never tell someone what that isn't a therapist that I didn't like them, but I know that therapists are trained to be loving no matter what and that they really don't care because after all it is a crazy person telling them that. It's like when my kids don't love me best. I'm not sad because they are dumb kids and I don't need 14 year old friends.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I got to the Family Support and Treatment Center, Nevin made me wait for 10 minutes past when our appointment was supposed to start and that made it all the easier for me to tell him I didn't like him. Finally, he came to get me and he acted like maybe meeting me was the highlight of his whole day. Darn it! How am I supposed to tell him how much I don't like him if he's going to act like?! Plus, the fact that he is fairly young and flashed a million dollar smile didn't help much. I have a student named Bryan that does that very same thing when he's doing something naughty 'cause he knows I'm a sucker for it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We went into his office and he was just chit chatting with me about this, that and the other. I kept waiting for a good time to give him the bad news. Before I knew it, he pulled out some paperwork and said that he just wanted to go over that real quick. Okay, I'd tell him right after that. That seemed like a good time to do it. Only too bad for me because we never got through the paperwork! He tricked me by having lots of questions in that paperwork that required me to tell him lots of stuff I had no intention of telling him. I still thought that maybe I could work me not liking him into the conversation. Only he did something totally nervy. As I was talking he kept using phrases like: </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Wow, you are really ambitious.” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“You are so funny. I can tell that we are going to get along great.” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Your kids at school must really love you.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I can’t believe how strong you are and what a survivor you are.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Do you know how amazing you are because other people with your experiences are typically so glum and absorbed in always being a victim.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Don’t you think that was pretty nervy of him to say all that nice stuff when I’m doing my best to not like him? He was downright charming, and I didn’t appreciate it one bit! At the end of our session he said that he was excited for our time together and that he was really surprised that I was willing to work with him because he now knew that boys aren’t high on my list of trustworthy people. <em>NOW</em> was my chance. Only too bad for me because by then I really did like him. So instead, I told him that I meant to tell him in the beginning that I didn’t like him and that I wanted another therapist but that it didn’t work out so good for me because now I actually liked him. He laughed because I think he knew how tricky he was. Maybe next time I try to hate someone it will work out better for me.</span>Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-68204597609789358532009-11-01T14:26:00.002-07:002009-11-04T13:19:28.380-07:00Halloween<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My major Halloween plan was to not be home. Living in the same town you teach in has the potential to be anything but a pleasure. The last thing I want is for a bunch of 14 year olds to come to my house dressed up, begging for candy. I see them plenty enough during the week. On Thrusday a girl named Annie talked to me about this very subject. Our conversation went like this:</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> "Ms. Haymore, we are going to come to your house on Halloween and Trick-or-Treat." </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> "Go ahead and knock yourselves out. I won't be there." </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> "Why not Ms. Haymore?" </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> "Because there is no occasion I can think of that I'd ever want any of you at my house."</span><br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> She didn't really have too much to say after that. True to my word, I made other plans. I went to my Aunt Kaye's house for the weekend. She had a knee replacement last Thursday, so I thought I could maybe be of some use to her. It's a win/win as far as I'm concerned because I'm not at my house on Halloween and she gets the pleasure of my company. This is my favoritest photo of me and my Auntie:</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwAbizc1a5cCbmIpRuuBjUYsK-RO_6VKN8JoV-XWzFeKx3nVUeuUZ59Qfkll3x1BQvd3QLKKpRjAR92ZCu-wC1MMqlG1Q-q2NYYUNKX7rMZRpuAGHIUIOPCpUMVPqTT43FmTxTDqH7dguj/s1600-h/namma+and+shan+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwAbizc1a5cCbmIpRuuBjUYsK-RO_6VKN8JoV-XWzFeKx3nVUeuUZ59Qfkll3x1BQvd3QLKKpRjAR92ZCu-wC1MMqlG1Q-q2NYYUNKX7rMZRpuAGHIUIOPCpUMVPqTT43FmTxTDqH7dguj/s320/namma+and+shan+frame.jpg" vr="true" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not bad for one I took myself with my phone. While at my auntie's house I carved my pumpkin. I LOVE carving pumpkins. It is my favorite part of Halloween. Aunt Kaye needed to be in her room lying down with ice and junk on her knee, so I carved it on her bedroom floor. That way neither one of us had to be lonely. This is my pumpkin: </span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg86fxA0GHVg8KOUMNXIz4lZTzKmnVO6ABYHWV4JecvgdArGYu3lRl30T-wKE116bOWagdpO5E7n-maX2f8J2Bx5EfJzNzTfgUhv-Ir9fZwG6yXbnDSIBKCK3Zm84gV-Z6YhztAHFKYPXmz/s1600-h/untitled.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg86fxA0GHVg8KOUMNXIz4lZTzKmnVO6ABYHWV4JecvgdArGYu3lRl30T-wKE116bOWagdpO5E7n-maX2f8J2Bx5EfJzNzTfgUhv-Ir9fZwG6yXbnDSIBKCK3Zm84gV-Z6YhztAHFKYPXmz/s320/untitled.jpg" vr="true" /></span></a><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I think the hardest part of pumpkin carving for me is choosing the pattern. After an hour of searching, I finally settled on this one. I felt a little bit sorry for that kitty what that almost got left behind, but he was so funny I couldn't resist.</span><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That's all I have to say about Halloween. The not-so-spooky end.</span><br />
</div>Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-19801735715146702162009-10-25T21:24:00.002-06:002009-10-25T21:31:55.572-06:00Weekend Math<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I found out important things this weekend. One is that on a gloomy day sometimes you need to do some addition. For example:</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV80zq5NuQJu9OmzO0EbLVYsKOCq-xYEdakp6TZUs8G31wkTdMS4eeXK5W8OjDk8gYFGCHzsaZeC4lqIzUhFTL2VeuSHNhExUb8NOzMRKrIT3d1-WAjnfxBgaTq6oSyS1uBSxEyJTH3GHw/s1600-h/popcorn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV80zq5NuQJu9OmzO0EbLVYsKOCq-xYEdakp6TZUs8G31wkTdMS4eeXK5W8OjDk8gYFGCHzsaZeC4lqIzUhFTL2VeuSHNhExUb8NOzMRKrIT3d1-WAjnfxBgaTq6oSyS1uBSxEyJTH3GHw/s400/popcorn.jpg" vr="true" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><strong><span style="color: yellow; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Popcorn +</span></strong><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgW42A1UOEZ3-yRd04OUuGiWOFV5D8ekj5N5DW3u4N1Wk1KAiuIdVEGeZzInFzoG0iX8ruHFY21kF09Mb6Bt5e3s9BIhDgg-dZpIGcXXFGRRfYBZB94YAZQ_HiolCR6zDIXJ6pv9yuuHnv/s1600-h/chocolatechips.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgW42A1UOEZ3-yRd04OUuGiWOFV5D8ekj5N5DW3u4N1Wk1KAiuIdVEGeZzInFzoG0iX8ruHFY21kF09Mb6Bt5e3s9BIhDgg-dZpIGcXXFGRRfYBZB94YAZQ_HiolCR6zDIXJ6pv9yuuHnv/s400/chocolatechips.jpg" vr="true" /></span></a><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: yellow; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><strong>Chocolate Chips =</strong></span><br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiKnhp1Ily4Nm4pechuJYgRNh0zUAsU_f-9Ho6Tt260HfShLxZEyvrBaRrIsOzSdiupfr19sodD4bqTVvZlT9GILTxImw-6EQkjmWui0Ssn16SdcRCtw1WbxJmxXG1em1guZuHH9NA1G4O/s1600/popcorn+chocolate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiKnhp1Ily4Nm4pechuJYgRNh0zUAsU_f-9Ho6Tt260HfShLxZEyvrBaRrIsOzSdiupfr19sodD4bqTVvZlT9GILTxImw-6EQkjmWui0Ssn16SdcRCtw1WbxJmxXG1em1guZuHH9NA1G4O/s400/popcorn+chocolate.jpg" vr="true" /></a><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: yellow; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><strong>Yummy Goodness!</strong></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiKnhp1Ily4Nm4pechuJYgRNh0zUAsU_f-9Ho6Tt260HfShLxZEyvrBaRrIsOzSdiupfr19sodD4bqTVvZlT9GILTxImw-6EQkjmWui0Ssn16SdcRCtw1WbxJmxXG1em1guZuHH9NA1G4O/s1600-h/popcorn+chocolate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></a><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Who can feel sad about that? I also found out that yummy goodness + someone who loves you enough to bring it to you and giggle with you = being very blessed. Who knew math could be so fun?</span>Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-58406795511662791132009-10-24T00:10:00.001-06:002009-10-24T00:11:37.951-06:00Quite Possibly The Nicest Thing Anyone Has Ever Said to Me<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tonight I was at a Mary Kay function. It was Girl's Night Out. We feed you dinner from Olive Garden, Wax your eyebrows, give you a facial/makeover, and then give you dessert. All for $10. Not to shabby if you ask me. Anyway, as I said before, I was there tonight. I have an Amy friend there. Only the Amy friend I'm referring to is not this Amy friend:</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirXQfXo-A8yjFIGkDCH6US0ZDwjL6HWzRB7RPY7qHKEYBPqF9Uy8ZnKKMM3G6_WK-TpBi-QazDQYWqwE2zlhr0mf6cXqBaWkNTufr65seM4kCdvXWNCjLF3H-3c3sM4FDlfRrjNP6UCwcC/s1600-h/ams+shan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirXQfXo-A8yjFIGkDCH6US0ZDwjL6HWzRB7RPY7qHKEYBPqF9Uy8ZnKKMM3G6_WK-TpBi-QazDQYWqwE2zlhr0mf6cXqBaWkNTufr65seM4kCdvXWNCjLF3H-3c3sM4FDlfRrjNP6UCwcC/s400/ams+shan.jpg" vr="true" /></span></a><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That is my Amy Haider friend what that is my bestest Amy friend. (On a totally nonrelated issue--I'm pretty sure that is a darling photo of the two of us.) As I was saying before being distracted by the cutness of that photo, the Amy I am referring to is my Amy Walker friend:</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8dP_vJs0sR67suNXl6bYO1ZFE_-gsvE7nvPANHfe_HVomhU5k-C-eloFx5pvbTNfLkD3FctgKqfLp7Gph8fj0mOompB4E4BDb8rQjjBc-oBCnJuYMRdqOGlsvK6Ni-wQDkuaxt86N_Uho/s1600-h/amy+walker.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8dP_vJs0sR67suNXl6bYO1ZFE_-gsvE7nvPANHfe_HVomhU5k-C-eloFx5pvbTNfLkD3FctgKqfLp7Gph8fj0mOompB4E4BDb8rQjjBc-oBCnJuYMRdqOGlsvK6Ni-wQDkuaxt86N_Uho/s400/amy+walker.bmp" vr="true" /></span></a><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She and I were cutting up the cake to serve to the guests and she out of the blue asks me, "Shan, have you ever met anyone that doesn't like you?" I wasn't sure what she meant so I asked her, "What do you mean?" She replied, "It's just that I can't ever imagine anyone not liking you, so I thought I'd ask if you knew of anyone." Like I said, quite possibly the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.</span><br />
</div>Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-91589973409239279882009-10-22T21:39:00.002-06:002009-10-23T08:21:04.880-06:00Street Cred.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I hate to hurt Hank's feelings, but I have to call a spade a spade...He's a big boy. Fourteen pounds of big boy. It looks like he ate another cat.</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdfRZmMbJC74WqyKEFzKZwnP70hsW7tlNfmAQrp4q_Q3hbXiCtxbHYmnM8UKtTeb3t-MHTFsfY-Q7XwAFOI-wNk5czz7UwfVwyByK8GFuyHRJI9xQBkZ7F3yGW0-AR1rm6VR2ZbMV2-VeS/s1600-h/100_1190.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdfRZmMbJC74WqyKEFzKZwnP70hsW7tlNfmAQrp4q_Q3hbXiCtxbHYmnM8UKtTeb3t-MHTFsfY-Q7XwAFOI-wNk5czz7UwfVwyByK8GFuyHRJI9xQBkZ7F3yGW0-AR1rm6VR2ZbMV2-VeS/s320/100_1190.jpg" vr="true" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He also has big claws like these:</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmrPDNG7vakkrdYCrw-G8Z0mKflJa8Z-1HCeUYU5AGdxDuPisvL8wACAnxIT-FvSgKvtpq6tRXMMKeqVn-4fejJL5vMNdOzL5SaorG-H8lBEGnOWUi3OcMunf4JSJa783TSOwL1r4066lG/s1600-h/000_0012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmrPDNG7vakkrdYCrw-G8Z0mKflJa8Z-1HCeUYU5AGdxDuPisvL8wACAnxIT-FvSgKvtpq6tRXMMKeqVn-4fejJL5vMNdOzL5SaorG-H8lBEGnOWUi3OcMunf4JSJa783TSOwL1r4066lG/s320/000_0012.jpg" vr="true" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And big, sharp teeth like these:</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6yMI7lRYApe63O1ttLggYxaCkkcPp0AK2bqI3fEgfZCbdCRxtJdyLinTZVbFTzVKnvb8PpZo8c558d5YBjwezWMi4PVnGtq9shZL3ftD57QohO156sbCGJzPMbxPGyej56_U2rCHIng4q/s1600-h/000_0008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6yMI7lRYApe63O1ttLggYxaCkkcPp0AK2bqI3fEgfZCbdCRxtJdyLinTZVbFTzVKnvb8PpZo8c558d5YBjwezWMi4PVnGtq9shZL3ftD57QohO156sbCGJzPMbxPGyej56_U2rCHIng4q/s320/000_0008.jpg" vr="true" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">However, today he met his match. A foe so fierce that Hank ran out of the room with his big, fat tail tucked. I was able to catch a photo of this beast: Don't be frightnened:</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
<br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir-KCbMxL3Le7q-iDRN_EsO5aSCA6-h7RRI-5TvCNAbjSdqEcOwBc9t37V2dzHtK70Cisex-Ps5XrnjBQR4kX6D-WUepWEVr4aOqaerH-OTHol-ApuD5DBGqrT6xaIA7jpfyHS7V106DVB/s1600-h/000_0006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir-KCbMxL3Le7q-iDRN_EsO5aSCA6-h7RRI-5TvCNAbjSdqEcOwBc9t37V2dzHtK70Cisex-Ps5XrnjBQR4kX6D-WUepWEVr4aOqaerH-OTHol-ApuD5DBGqrT6xaIA7jpfyHS7V106DVB/s320/000_0006.jpg" vr="true" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm embarassed for Hank. I think he just lost a lot of street cred to the 2 pound kitten next door. He spent the rest of the afternoon like this:</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinNomjn4EnGNPiztD3XyVyKoEwkqKZy_QSNSvuDmfZ0foXgJP14ezrwyX9NM7aIrLyE5lKCAPbjv8gCQQdBTAYNocVzNidu2X_75d9WBZLFOOQoGQjF5phi_Ewn8Qa0Qguets8F0o8ugX2/s1600-h/hank+hank.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinNomjn4EnGNPiztD3XyVyKoEwkqKZy_QSNSvuDmfZ0foXgJP14ezrwyX9NM7aIrLyE5lKCAPbjv8gCQQdBTAYNocVzNidu2X_75d9WBZLFOOQoGQjF5phi_Ewn8Qa0Qguets8F0o8ugX2/s320/hank+hank.jpg" vr="true" /></span></a><br />
</div>Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-79673279046488340632009-10-14T22:14:00.000-06:002009-10-14T22:14:11.102-06:00At Least I Didn't Hit Someone on a Motorcycle<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I got pulled over again today. Only he didn't give me a ticket because I just barely got one on Monday. This officer looked a little more like this:</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk8XWjspzPXW2tN493pPZKPAk0kvCCdyLErrNMPbVixzQHkDRPaEgbSk3H0-E49jASNXmuoSV5TgPjuQrzq8p3XY7n2bDFTC2N5TH_hygcu1ObzqYkAOqhr0L9wB-ollhu7CDQhBCTKDmA/s1600-h/fatCop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img $r="true" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk8XWjspzPXW2tN493pPZKPAk0kvCCdyLErrNMPbVixzQHkDRPaEgbSk3H0-E49jASNXmuoSV5TgPjuQrzq8p3XY7n2bDFTC2N5TH_hygcu1ObzqYkAOqhr0L9wB-ollhu7CDQhBCTKDmA/s400/fatCop.jpg" /></span></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm pretty sure I need to just stay off the road...forever! My only consolation is that I didn't hit anyone on a motorcycle and none of my teeth fell out. That's an improvement from the last 2 days.</span><br />
</div>Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817190298511205927.post-73819490967913961252009-10-13T21:30:00.004-06:002009-10-14T07:44:08.500-06:00Alliteration<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Monday -motorcycle mayhem.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Tuesday -tooth trauma.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> Wednesday -????????</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I'm not sure what all kinds of alliteration goes with Wednesday, but maybe I should stay home in bed tomorrow just to be sure. Tuesday's tooth trauma is that I have a cracked tooth that sends me through the roof when something cold hits it. By cold I mean anything below 98.6 degrees. It will require a crown, but thankfully I can wait until after I get back from New York to take care of it. Speaking of New York, maybe you need a tiny little sneak peek:</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDKvA336SMwh8zHyph_OyrJGbfppZbv-qWvWyNKOXD6_ErKsyhiLnxIOBXawfBRWZacbPKo-gIPQ3V56RabPQA1j9fXJ9__8Vq8DhQt6obg07ma-oAXF6qSwHVscAzcUjyzvz-1NrjGlNY/s1600-h/portlandsquare.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img $r="true" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDKvA336SMwh8zHyph_OyrJGbfppZbv-qWvWyNKOXD6_ErKsyhiLnxIOBXawfBRWZacbPKo-gIPQ3V56RabPQA1j9fXJ9__8Vq8DhQt6obg07ma-oAXF6qSwHVscAzcUjyzvz-1NrjGlNY/s400/portlandsquare.jpg" /></span></a><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> This is our Hotel: Portland Square Hotel</span><br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img $r="true" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT-MIWyB2-gaQo4EC6ua2yR147jRgWpZj_8_mDxA9othibVUPeXrVZxDdHDaUO9mm0PAd7E8KiUZafPztKjAKzQB7VruRKUxvUsZj-Xx_5GcsKk-v0LE6Jl1aOIlnrDZy-pD9e0pBVnJxp/s400/Wicked-Wallpaper-wicked-2669689-1024-768.jpg" /></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Wicked</span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img $r="true" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ_uZ1ryF7MGXBGkNd7bHI7-2mAt_yrCjsZFZzjssdPtkPRTGjdV5tMl5VO7n1_jSF7Al3Z_88evoF4YBsV-Sku-vM-5JwOBGKX3FKVdgp2oNgj_cRTkcesGeXA0cG0qOTUzgGFtho3Fqi/s400/Statue_Of_Liberty_%2520NewYork%2520_Harbor.jpg" /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Statue of Liberty</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img $r="true" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSfy3_fFw67RqAzvvJ3tA0YDXn3n5dsIPgpNBphIvhxdqkhTophp57-8Q8Q3RHDj6nyQZOW7sAt-JfoR_pq5z06CjbqX7Gy-lD7At5wD0-VPuAoP5pReqVl6C_LlcgNLaUY5OZWy0lMD2c/s400/ellis_island_leaving.jpg" /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Ellis Island -I don't think these people will actually be there, though.</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img $r="true" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-MA9DZM24hCNeFgVEM50V5wJKyY5EnehdxiaPZU9Ue2oLnIKcldtlgrG3C-jz2L2N8BUoxjaf9nDGFWbI-PoXDwKFGxAjPwknKavsbX7DR7Y3RT5hpqO3pswj1hySe2mk2IfVNdthyJ_M/s400/02_911GroundZeroEarlyAM.jpg" /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Ground Zero</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img $r="true" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3KNNSdo56ZQQPm64Xo4kM-lelDa8hCp6XuI_RyZV_mK2ZYi_cbJdizz1rbl7lyUY0kUfd9YbD03wGhTspVBhvejIm0mErMMYpZXYK3XmfJDSbHnx5N_dUbIjKYUn7SM_qqpxhlkch4ZVw/s400/NY_TimesSquareNight.jpg" /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Times Square</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img $r="true" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnN_fb2KWnJok752D_Kd0u3b7HI21SNY1RxV-1keGdu8swZmeC3GLSn0IwAvrxxTs-2L-p46eV1QvSJnKSFOOHddrbbaWLIwX9UT8tIQmJIswXAIQm-H4r6jXw_i3ryNxTtzRPlt2F-TEv/s400/empire_state_building1.jpg" /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Empire State Building</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img $r="true" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMfkoWs87ckTa24UFdJwX3VjVbTXSMju7VpPr6V8tVeuPBD6WtTwd9k-OtsVUSb_LtEqNiqQBX4AfHwKjFj2Kd_V9Ah-NcBXI1nhJX_tJm86nVs9Z2Wd7COlX1TK4TD3qKzGMjNj5Kn-AV/s400/hot+dog+vendor.jpg" /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I know that Kesk will not be excited for this guy, but I am. I feel like I need a hot dog from a street vendor to have the true NYC experience. Good thing for me that I like hot dogs. This guy's name happens to be Ernie.</span><br />
</div>Shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05877315285859410606noreply@blogger.com4