tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48578542006243088232024-03-05T01:22:48.965-05:00'Cuz I Felt Like It!'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.comBlogger258125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-81311636885003614592011-01-04T14:13:00.008-05:002011-01-04T16:23:54.615-05:00Speakin' of IdiocyWhen I was 14, a friend told me they had taken the word gullible out of the dictionary. I asked "why?"..... she said "You're so gulllible"...I said "yeah, whatever...now why did they take the word out of the dictionary?" Again, she said "You're so gullible." ........"fine, I'm gullible...now why the hell'd they take the damn word outta the diction....."<div><br /></div><div>Then it hit me. I got it. I'd never felt more like an idiot than I did at that very moment. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'd like to think of myself as a pretty smart chick....maybe not in the book sense, but at least in COMMONsense. However.....I took things to a whole new level of idiocy that day....and I ain't proud to say it, but I FAR surpassed that today...and despite the fact that I haven't blogged in MONTHS, I felt the need to share just what a gullible idiot I can be.</div><div><br /></div><div>.....and so it goes.....</div><div><br /></div><div>Today on my lunch break I picked up a Creative Loafing. I'm just readin'away....doo doo doo doo doo doo (my readin' noise you see)..and I take pause when I read that Atlanta's broke ass transit system is gonna start transportin' livestock for extra cash.....somethin'about a new train line that'll go out to the country or some junk. Hmmmm...ok...weird....but whatever. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm kinda just a skimmer when it comes to readin' news stories so I flip the page and read that one of Atlanta's fanciest restaurants, Bacchinalia, is closin' and the owners have decided to open a chain of hot dog stands. What the fuck? Really???....that's fucked up.....</div><div><br /></div><div>Interestin' stuff here....so I flip back again......to read some junk about Big Poppa's true identity finally bein' revealed. Whether we want to admit it or not, most all of us know who Kim Zolciack is....and to know Kim Zolciack is to have heard of Big Poppa......right? Well according to the latest Creative Loafing, Atlanta's very own Mayor Kasim Reed is Big Poppa. "Ain't no fuckin' way", I say outloud catchin' the attention of my co-worker Kansas. So I explain to her....even though she claims to have never heard of Kim OR Big Poppa (she totally lies).....I get fed up with playin' her "I don't know who that is" game so I went to someone in another department that I was sure knew who they were....</div><div><br /></div><div>.....and that person said...."I thought Big Poppa was a white dude who owned that mall that had their power cut off...."</div><div><br /></div><div>So I went to grab the paper and bring it back to show her......</div><div><br /></div><div>When I got back to her she was on the phone with a customer.....</div><div><br /></div><div>So I flip the page to see if there are any more detes about Atlanta's mayor bonin' the wig wearin', Google Me singin' Kim Z......and then somethin' else catches my eye.....</div><div><br /></div><div>"Clermont Lounge Leaves Namesake for City Hall East"......</div><div><br /></div><div>Now, I've heard all kindsa tales about the Clermont Hotel bein' foreclosed on and what would become of the fancy strip club that occupied its basement......and here was the latest.....</div><div><br /></div><div>The Clermont Lounge had moved in August to the former City Hall East building in Atlanta and was now called Blondie's Geriatric Jiggle Joint.</div><div><br /></div><div>My first thought....."The Clermont moved in August? Where the fuck was I? Then......"Geriatric Jiggle Joint? I wonder how the young girls that work there feel about that......maybe they ain't got any young girls anymore....." Then...."I can't imagine Blondie lettin' anybody call her geriatric......"</div><div><br /></div><div>Then it hit me.....</div><div><br /></div><div>I almost franticlly flipped back a page to re-read the title of the article. "2011 the Year in Review". </div><div><br /></div><div>Wait a dadgum minute. It's only four frikkin' days into 2011. What the sam hell's goin ' on here?......annnnnd then the lightbulb clicks on.</div><div><br /></div><div>So yeah....Atlanta's Mayor totally ain't Big Poppa....you'll find no pigs or chickens on Marta....the owners of Bacchanalia ain't openin' up a bunch of hot dog stands.....and you can still sit at the sticky ass duct taped bar in the basement of the Clermont and check out some 66 year old vag.</div><div><br /></div><div>As for me.....I quit. I'm done. You hear me? Done.</div>'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-81534375502692614542010-09-28T21:04:00.006-04:002010-11-01T19:12:16.483-04:00Fluffidermy!I would say 90% of my friends are into buyin' taxidermy. The stuff that lined the walls of my family's homes is more popular than ever! The difference bein' that my family shot that junk themselves and proudly displayed their trophies and ate the rest....<br /><br />Seein' as how the closest I get to huntin' is huntin' the best deals possible on groceries and I can barely afford toilet paper these days taxidermy ain't gonna find itself to the already awesome walls of my house anytime soon.<br /><br />HOWEVER......<br /><br />You know, I've been makin' my Battle Scrarred Bears again and in the midst of all the hubub over taxidermy, I decided to start puttin' their sweet little heads on plaques.....and voila!......my own dadgum taxidermy........FLUFFIDERMY!!!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvCTkw54IA1uPRj4aJdL6ZRksccor2g3GgaoHrQsDc_ecL8YCaeZqjMwRWRKx7GYpoEq1cHcGQhFdICCKitqPk62OayUK73mPWHGpcJWdI6fZ72ajP5j76pqTSH4rfjhqTbxAHYWCLtn68/s1600/007+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvCTkw54IA1uPRj4aJdL6ZRksccor2g3GgaoHrQsDc_ecL8YCaeZqjMwRWRKx7GYpoEq1cHcGQhFdICCKitqPk62OayUK73mPWHGpcJWdI6fZ72ajP5j76pqTSH4rfjhqTbxAHYWCLtn68/s400/007+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522140179085255362" border="0" /></a><br />I've seen lots of other crafty made....uhhhh....idermy, and even proudly display <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/girlsavage?ref=seller_info">feltidermy by girlsavage</a> on one of my walls. Fluffidermy is my spin on the awesome that is stuffed craft ...idermy!.....and dammit....even though I didn't kill nothin' I made it and it's hangin' on my wall!'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-6788320381275771712010-09-07T19:04:00.005-04:002010-09-07T19:33:56.777-04:00East Atlanta Strut 2010<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG44Mp_1DNISqYTT2VPR0Xn_SH-MSbaU5pDJk5_09m9b9X5guPqSlEsAzhusgI7UE6NDRJj8RlCIJmrTjYENwTuv3-QYtegMBJXq_kwV9IYcEsprkQB2PME4oHZbx1cS_lh9nQA6xfyCzw/s1600/3+bears.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG44Mp_1DNISqYTT2VPR0Xn_SH-MSbaU5pDJk5_09m9b9X5guPqSlEsAzhusgI7UE6NDRJj8RlCIJmrTjYENwTuv3-QYtegMBJXq_kwV9IYcEsprkQB2PME4oHZbx1cS_lh9nQA6xfyCzw/s400/3+bears.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514312854847119922" border="0" /></a><br />I've been sewin' my fingers off tryin' to get ready for the <a href="http://www.eastatlantastrut.com/">East Atlanta Strut</a>. It was the first show I had ever done and it was a BLAST! Bein' used to your standard kinda craft shows, you know the ones.....wood cut into silly stuff, marsh mellow guns, lace and potpourri, you can imagine my excitement when I was accepted to do the Strut, which ain't your mama's craft show.<br /><br />After three years, I've decided to give it a go again. I've really focused on my bears since that's what I really enjoy makin' and it's what everyone seemed to like best. You definitely won't find anything else like 'em out there! They're all sad lookin' and junk.....and people wanna hug 'em when they see 'em.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX0vptUX0Ddl44Qkwd6i5Agyy3ZH_KVExUZgaSxWrDa9hu0PsGSgfj7P8hdevyfz9n3iKW8ZXJGMg0LKxjnEbDyS_aBiRU0YIDLzSSdDGGj6d7WXO5wD4hG7ynbWZ_GRsStUTCWHAY-1tr/s1600/038.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX0vptUX0Ddl44Qkwd6i5Agyy3ZH_KVExUZgaSxWrDa9hu0PsGSgfj7P8hdevyfz9n3iKW8ZXJGMg0LKxjnEbDyS_aBiRU0YIDLzSSdDGGj6d7WXO5wD4hG7ynbWZ_GRsStUTCWHAY-1tr/s400/038.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514313423995452210" border="0" /></a>I started sewin' these guys three years ago and after readin' an article in a magazine about a man that went to war, was burned badly while there and came home to his finance, married her and made babies with her despite all his scars, I was inspired to make the Battle Scarred. Most of 'em are missin' limbs and are just beggin' to be loved.<br /><br />"We all have scars. Some are in the inside, some are on the outside, but no matter what, we all still need to be loved!"<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDzix5zPV2onbOJFjR6_8X2MvgXEpxZSpHRWHuyUnuZ5rQyC6k2ZMLqa8AG1i8C_LS1KT9OfjyrYSJ3yzyFQ0soi0GghhQfaie4JtdtG0s6tD2PoC2IaZ7xdXPWh6C3cNYV8HtR2q9flle/s1600/029.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDzix5zPV2onbOJFjR6_8X2MvgXEpxZSpHRWHuyUnuZ5rQyC6k2ZMLqa8AG1i8C_LS1KT9OfjyrYSJ3yzyFQ0soi0GghhQfaie4JtdtG0s6tD2PoC2IaZ7xdXPWh6C3cNYV8HtR2q9flle/s400/029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514313420126656930" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This year, I'll have some of my aprons made outta vintage pillow cases.....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGwMGAwP4c_TyIPU1QUcpT3xyDRnAka7W6JA9GOIBDWu_vXkQFEHt-NdAfE9o9_Mndpz75r6q9aO94CBNzd31tU-9pusg29mHSjyIDnHvNbpXUl5qhFd0ZqN3Gqp8yLQwU5iLuaRXeWnjM/s1600/blue+apron.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 358px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGwMGAwP4c_TyIPU1QUcpT3xyDRnAka7W6JA9GOIBDWu_vXkQFEHt-NdAfE9o9_Mndpz75r6q9aO94CBNzd31tU-9pusg29mHSjyIDnHvNbpXUl5qhFd0ZqN3Gqp8yLQwU5iLuaRXeWnjM/s400/blue+apron.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514318573997939682" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Some Christmas stockings.....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmWp7Qhx2j3LDtYGBcZh2gGCYIJyN3EfycwXk_YNnCPWzJgPrfbZObbV7T3Pol0H1LtwGj_iviKjN5DOCiNcYEZRYo6PjNvZ2A9ocwTuciPLi8HLTaO-kGWpc-7QytavQiM0X87gDyBxQz/s1600/064.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmWp7Qhx2j3LDtYGBcZh2gGCYIJyN3EfycwXk_YNnCPWzJgPrfbZObbV7T3Pol0H1LtwGj_iviKjN5DOCiNcYEZRYo6PjNvZ2A9ocwTuciPLi8HLTaO-kGWpc-7QytavQiM0X87gDyBxQz/s400/064.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514315325402755474" border="0" /></a><br /><br />and rings made outta vintage buttons......<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><img style="display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 246px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIdcuIB0uPu27LlKP224iL18Nc8J63E3KcLmPpB3i6OzP9z3q0tLva0fFyGcQbgG8DMdy8zOvUG6sGz6m_uI1WLZbnWoCp2B4DoBTaFhdfXFt04XpTnv6R7jVCW0oprFquY27ci30jGuU9/s400/009+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514315331860764338" border="0" /></span><br />Life has definitely been crazy lately, so I hope to really do well at the show! Can't freakin' wait! See y'all the 18th!'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-58551437468009789352010-06-29T22:21:00.002-04:002010-06-29T22:55:04.233-04:00June 28 - I Heart Faces Pet Entry<center><a href="http://www.iheartfaces.com/"><img src="http://www.livinglocurto.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/I_Heart_Faces_noborder_125x100.jpg" /></a></center><br /><br />I know, I know....it's be FOREVER since I last posted, but life has majorly gotten in the way. Lots and lots of ups and downs....well mostly downs, but who am I to complain?<br /><br />....and I'm totally not about to be a Debbie Downer and start <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">whinin</span>'.....<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">that'll</span> come later...I promise.....I'm <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">doin</span>' this here post '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">cuz</span> I wanna have an awesome picture of our <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">ol</span>' Wheezy Lee and Vin to be posted on the <a href="http://www.iheartfaces.com/">I Heart Faces Blog</a>. It's my first time and Lord knows I probably ain't gonna get it right the first 1,600 times I try, but I'm gonna give it a go anyhow.<br /><br />Despite life totally <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">suckin</span>' these days, I do have a constant source of entertainment....when she's not being a total <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">crappin</span>' machine that is.....<br /><br />I introduced Wheezy Lee to y'all a while back and she's been <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">growin</span>' like mad. To catch you up on everything you've missed, she hates <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">swimmin</span>' despite my best efforts....she refuses to be crate trained.....she thinks the couch is her personal bed and pushes the pillows all over the place.....I still say she's totally narcoleptic....and she likes to chew on the house and garden hoses, and toes. Yeah.<br /><br />When we first brought her home we had some problems with Lil' Vin <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">wantin</span>' to eat her face off....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKfFKvq2LZkDdEbHyYeAUoIluBkJ4r4Y92-9wrKV7r5si2XJuJH6n0dSWESVNIsktIkMRQR_9I7wdehuS7-tUF4iTYJxzUIQxSExo7h3N1VLZ3QD4AdEnwfBgHAOMgGIf4CdPX7PK8Ru-2/s1600/011.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 317px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKfFKvq2LZkDdEbHyYeAUoIluBkJ4r4Y92-9wrKV7r5si2XJuJH6n0dSWESVNIsktIkMRQR_9I7wdehuS7-tUF4iTYJxzUIQxSExo7h3N1VLZ3QD4AdEnwfBgHAOMgGIf4CdPX7PK8Ru-2/s400/011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488393551353638418" border="0" /></a><br />.....but now she towers over him so he's pretty much given up that fight. Bless his heart.....'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-33053001096309551652010-05-12T21:44:00.004-04:002010-05-12T22:17:14.100-04:00FMLThis whole tryin' to be positive shit ain't workin' today.....or for the past few days as a matter of fact.<br /><br />I'm tired. My mind hasn't absorbed so much learnin' since I was like.....I dunno.....youngish.<br /><br />You know what learnin' overkill does to me? Shuts me down.....fucks me up. All this thinkin' straight at the new job ain't lettin' me think straight anywhere else. I get home and my brain turns to fondue. I'm so, so, so tired.<br /><br />On top of this tired shit, my weekends are PACKED...and now I have no money for these packed weekends. Not only did I take a HUGE pay cut, but Jeremy's job just decided that his position is no longer needed....so.....they've put him back to what he did when he first started workin' there three years ago and MAJORLY cut his pay. MAJORLY.<br /><br />When the fuck does this stop?<br /><br />I've said over and over.....good things come to good people. What'd I do that ain't good?????<br /><br />I even gave that chick standin' at the exit beggin for money a $20 bill because I felt bad for her because her shoes were shit. Yeah. TWENTY DOLLARS.<br /><br />....and, and...this whole couponing shit......takes up way too much of my time and I'm not sure how well it's gonna work for me. Today I spent $71 and saved $54.01. What'd that $71 get me? Not a damned thing I woulda otherwise bought. Well except a $20 prescription, toilet paper. lettuce and some bread. Everything else is shit I wouldn't have even bought. So let's do the math.....spent $71.....only $31.25 was shit I needed....that mean I wasted $39.75. I mean I woulda bought some cereal which I got 4 boxes of, but I got a bunch of cereal already.........so with the amount of time I spend cuttin' coupons, matchin' up deals and makin' my list is it really worth it? I don't see it. I'll give it a couple more weeks though.<br /><br />I need to start makin' bears again. I know I've said it like 100 times already, but I really do. What's holdin' me back???? First, my sewing room is still shit from after the 814 times that our basement flooded over the last 8 months. It's hard to get motivated when you don't even know where shit is. I need neat and clean to get motivated. Second....time. Between life in general, couponing and jam packed weekends, I got none. Third......the whole havin' a brain made outta fondue, I'm lucky I remember to wear a bra to work.<br /><br />I need a break. From reality.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-TTKp7MydHZte3W6DWUR8cjxnWXdACqEUt59rb1EPquJkFPNXaAESWSqGZvL_GanOhsVp_mCTR6AT7Zu6rYo_GhTuV9GJ3iJa8nCmtK_JshcciTaeI1UvCz3JtgCXmMChyphenhyphenUtKYAclpBBO/s1600/fml.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-TTKp7MydHZte3W6DWUR8cjxnWXdACqEUt59rb1EPquJkFPNXaAESWSqGZvL_GanOhsVp_mCTR6AT7Zu6rYo_GhTuV9GJ3iJa8nCmtK_JshcciTaeI1UvCz3JtgCXmMChyphenhyphenUtKYAclpBBO/s400/fml.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470572877512290354" border="0" /></a>'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-77367989621461456792010-05-06T20:00:00.000-04:002010-05-06T20:51:04.649-04:00Miss Mamie's CupcakesThese......<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7SSAeUqxiKLPoQXfyILKDge7qmoedMzD49LiFsOIEBdukX3EIjSovMfaVOid7pAzl5NHTOMd8NSbr8UE8LWY4F7FvOXIk81HBIdKmMe-pczcxV3f1kPrqhw7xKcNZXlCI_13KcjoBud_g/s1600/005.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7SSAeUqxiKLPoQXfyILKDge7qmoedMzD49LiFsOIEBdukX3EIjSovMfaVOid7pAzl5NHTOMd8NSbr8UE8LWY4F7FvOXIk81HBIdKmMe-pczcxV3f1kPrqhw7xKcNZXlCI_13KcjoBud_g/s400/005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467956127233408162" border="0" /></a><br />Came from Miss <a href="http://www.missmamiescupcakes.com/">Mamie's Cupcakes</a> on the Marietta Square....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTO2J1jM-kdtVVlGCPFU0HZsVfR21sg3LWNquWs0Y38BEJHW2RxNxDFggPsh2aRY8_-F9948LkVnf4IOuxa3rq4g7_QTUbLvLyu4JPLQBWE6mF57TJjVnS8wnCw-YEQ_8sQCvXfg26LbIT/s1600/032.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTO2J1jM-kdtVVlGCPFU0HZsVfR21sg3LWNquWs0Y38BEJHW2RxNxDFggPsh2aRY8_-F9948LkVnf4IOuxa3rq4g7_QTUbLvLyu4JPLQBWE6mF57TJjVnS8wnCw-YEQ_8sQCvXfg26LbIT/s400/032.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467958854663379570" border="0" /></a><br /><br />and so did these......and they're totally gonna add another month to my already pregnant lookin' belly.....<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI92TGowT91PrM1waHJZCz1Yy2vWyr9bPdNtLMdSk8jt29WnmvLb_yEIyZpmBLwDQ3dqJ8IwDlDql6rOdj17IDtESeBkDx8kV0NjLvb7o3e3UVhrEVGd-olqeYmnrICd7xfCJ5QnJHCWAp/s1600/001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI92TGowT91PrM1waHJZCz1Yy2vWyr9bPdNtLMdSk8jt29WnmvLb_yEIyZpmBLwDQ3dqJ8IwDlDql6rOdj17IDtESeBkDx8kV0NjLvb7o3e3UVhrEVGd-olqeYmnrICd7xfCJ5QnJHCWAp/s400/001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467956115344150770" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Behold the beauty.....<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVbCxgcW-cWHCZYVKLoCrfcZOlf4qyoleeiHcU9cjeX9G5gC-jVBhr-zQblX79w9wtF8Liug28PSpA3YVAYTcRhGQay34ToNAwYu8MyX3JTg_Bmbn4vJPYOWwXfZgqymF2enovoSVyF29l/s1600/003.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVbCxgcW-cWHCZYVKLoCrfcZOlf4qyoleeiHcU9cjeX9G5gC-jVBhr-zQblX79w9wtF8Liug28PSpA3YVAYTcRhGQay34ToNAwYu8MyX3JTg_Bmbn4vJPYOWwXfZgqymF2enovoSVyF29l/s400/003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467956118339559314" border="0" /></a><br />I had NO idea this place was just right up the road from me. I, like everybody else worship cupcakes and when Chewy told me about it at like 9 on a Friday night, I grabbed my keys and was out the door. Ok, so I wasn't but if I thought for half a second they were open, I woulda went.....footy pajamas and all.....<br /><br />We made plans to go the next day when Chewy was finished workin' and I know I had sent her a text before the sun even came up askin' her what the hell was takin' so danged long........<br /><br />When we got there I was overwhelmed.....how could I only choose one?!?!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Bch5aYEja4nJLR1wly5pzOoVljNAlLtn-wI3CfneUSu1QfdoFy0ZEESLIPnsXLNP7vDDOMwJwpcDqeNPONBxavcIzKJZwFiDkPY7WwcnVTLTf0EUlrQQDIqubqISYZf91-Fq19LggeA2/s1600/010.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Bch5aYEja4nJLR1wly5pzOoVljNAlLtn-wI3CfneUSu1QfdoFy0ZEESLIPnsXLNP7vDDOMwJwpcDqeNPONBxavcIzKJZwFiDkPY7WwcnVTLTf0EUlrQQDIqubqISYZf91-Fq19LggeA2/s400/010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467956136313041090" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I ended up gettin' <a href="http://www.missmamiescupcakes.com/cupcakes/marshmallows/">rocky road</a> and <a href="http://www.missmamiescupcakes.com/cupcakes/reeses-cupcake/">reese's</a>.....Chewy got <a href="http://www.missmamiescupcakes.com/cupcakes/key-lime/">margarita</a> and <a href="http://www.missmamiescupcakes.com/cupcakes/strawberry/">strawberry</a>......and the girl got<a href="http://www.missmamiescupcakes.com/cupcakes/lemon-cupcake/"> lemon </a>and <a href="http://www.missmamiescupcakes.com/cupcakes/chocolate-sprinkles/">devil's food</a>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoD2_ImN0k4QkQ_Ey2JShXxd6FIR8nJsLa027n7ijPmXeegW3eRQM8cs24H1T8nGSOGoc4dOcdV7hgy8IPXVL90rZ70mj_HmNOLvXDoZGKYkqFR5x6GkqzHe_tjxTXwrHUn2jKhTTtyOZr/s1600/012.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoD2_ImN0k4QkQ_Ey2JShXxd6FIR8nJsLa027n7ijPmXeegW3eRQM8cs24H1T8nGSOGoc4dOcdV7hgy8IPXVL90rZ70mj_HmNOLvXDoZGKYkqFR5x6GkqzHe_tjxTXwrHUn2jKhTTtyOZr/s400/012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467956699963757266" border="0" /></a>I don't get the whole fruit and cupcakes thing.....and after the girl licked half the icing off her lemon cupcake, she decided she wasn't into fruit and cupcakes either so.....I ate it for her. Turns out fruit and cupcakes ain't half bad. As a matter of fact, it's pretty amazing and my second favorite.....<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivszdyFehFyowtrmiBRmdpAJChBj-Y1tI50HwZoFr2mbHfw4CtY0Z9n5ct3_nFnc5Yp9eZJpEKBm5GnMGxkZe_5cz-e65MIWuSW0kAs-HuG7vC4iY4M3nbu-mzorKy5edcsovbzPyPIhHp/s1600/016.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivszdyFehFyowtrmiBRmdpAJChBj-Y1tI50HwZoFr2mbHfw4CtY0Z9n5ct3_nFnc5Yp9eZJpEKBm5GnMGxkZe_5cz-e65MIWuSW0kAs-HuG7vC4iY4M3nbu-mzorKy5edcsovbzPyPIhHp/s400/016.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467956705561392066" border="0" /></a><br />Chewy also went for the fruit and cupcake combo.....strawberry.......she said it was "the bomb".....<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFhQHWRTFiv_jOPuXNalrJEipDeNvut5zQyvupka7xNECJMcnPXJWeRTl8VxFNAgL6bkeoNbZ4XR_goqqesYE9Irr-CjGDo8kxhgOYYeugTEVQtKGjmnh_1pWyLTI53EFgpWfAe2nLPTNc/s1600/021.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFhQHWRTFiv_jOPuXNalrJEipDeNvut5zQyvupka7xNECJMcnPXJWeRTl8VxFNAgL6bkeoNbZ4XR_goqqesYE9Irr-CjGDo8kxhgOYYeugTEVQtKGjmnh_1pWyLTI53EFgpWfAe2nLPTNc/s400/021.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467956712751267618" border="0" /></a><br />Before I dug into mine, I had to have a moment of silence for the cupcake gods.....I started oh so slowly peeling back the wrapper, mouth waterin'......Good gawd.....food porn.....<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgflEZmahkWhbhjel1-UXdDzBH5_FPc0YfRPQia_iI3gcrObwYXnMMxJ7YXkkCaxwsxIntTuYJz99ILCNSQueZGXMy7kukelEwT71cw74B_ml_KKfaAVytUkmOBGRx4yzYI6dHxUx4mYTYp/s1600/022.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgflEZmahkWhbhjel1-UXdDzBH5_FPc0YfRPQia_iI3gcrObwYXnMMxJ7YXkkCaxwsxIntTuYJz99ILCNSQueZGXMy7kukelEwT71cw74B_ml_KKfaAVytUkmOBGRx4yzYI6dHxUx4mYTYp/s400/022.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467956720029287074" border="0" /></a><br />After one bite, I shoveled the rest in.......all at once.......<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR9Yzn-EyyEXGCpZ5CcjELemtIBLdJMWnXaoSy7xkDz4XZm0D1_jMSaRjevdLh90faYPl_Ry6sLzJuWZce4dj-aqpBF6Knsr3fjNFPuStJ9mjSyoDnyzqfsN7YzplSLEYNNuR5F75VptFW/s1600/024.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR9Yzn-EyyEXGCpZ5CcjELemtIBLdJMWnXaoSy7xkDz4XZm0D1_jMSaRjevdLh90faYPl_Ry6sLzJuWZce4dj-aqpBF6Knsr3fjNFPuStJ9mjSyoDnyzqfsN7YzplSLEYNNuR5F75VptFW/s400/024.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467956724161495618" border="0" /></a><br />Gone......in my bell-eh.......<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqWXCG6aCpkKqHjR32Xh5ec8xuI9ebau6d6c5Ey63562XoXCz0aGgADn-WqlaWskUhBzhdlXSTJdH42Ff6qi1nE1mg3B76S4g2eC6FQujwHS8Wbjgq-1Nq40qYe8lTKpxSZUzgu0ccBZNn/s1600/027.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqWXCG6aCpkKqHjR32Xh5ec8xuI9ebau6d6c5Ey63562XoXCz0aGgADn-WqlaWskUhBzhdlXSTJdH42Ff6qi1nE1mg3B76S4g2eC6FQujwHS8Wbjgq-1Nq40qYe8lTKpxSZUzgu0ccBZNn/s400/027.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467958843012651826" border="0" /></a><br />When it was all said and done, I ended up eatin' 3 outta the 6 cupcakes. The girl forgot she had another one to eat and when I saw it the next mornin' I had it for breakfast.....<br /><br />You know what the best part is?....I can walk to Mamie's from my new job.....and I will.....and god knows I'll need the exercise with all the cupcakes I plan on consumin'......<br /><br />I predict in the near future, the followin' cupcakes will meet their fate in my belly.....Boston Creme, Chocolate Mint, Chocolate Peanut Butter, Coca-Cola, Guinness, Honey Oatmeal, Gingerbread, Pistachio, Pumpkin, Red Velvet, Sweet Potato and Toffee.....and of course like 600 more of the Lemon and Reese's Peanut Butter cupcake.....<br /><br />If I go missin', there's a good chance you can find me passed out in a cupcake coma on the floor of Miss Mamie's.....chocolate icing smeared on my face......<br /><br />I totally give Miss Mamie a short and stumpy thumbs up.......<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEoc9FxWcisJdNYhn6ldMCfTA0bGUKCxDnqdAOyZiBHxl6nG_SF0tG7EPWGC9p6pHj0sZ49nFbzNWaS-y95uVCWzFCNAfTRIyQujfs_Fc7UHdvAcr7kl8jb-yhMa2BEQD-Qghg9ImxiRb8/s1600/026.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEoc9FxWcisJdNYhn6ldMCfTA0bGUKCxDnqdAOyZiBHxl6nG_SF0tG7EPWGC9p6pHj0sZ49nFbzNWaS-y95uVCWzFCNAfTRIyQujfs_Fc7UHdvAcr7kl8jb-yhMa2BEQD-Qghg9ImxiRb8/s400/026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467958838932030450" border="0" /></a>'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-1831670685376551332010-05-05T20:22:00.010-04:002010-05-05T21:00:34.338-04:00Where I'm AtI have no internet access at work and it's killin' me. It's nuts how hooked on that shit I am! I'm used to havin' Facebook open all day.....chattin' with friends, lookin' at all the stupid shit posted.....no mas. One day, I'm gonna go missin' and my new co-workers are gonna find me huddled in a corner rockin' back and forth droolin' on myself mumblin' somethin' about Facebook destroyin' my life. I hope they just put me outta my misery right then and there.......<br /><br />Unfortunately, my blog's gonna take the biggest hit. I've always blogged from from work. It was nice and quiet and I could THINK which is somethin' that's dang near impossible to do at home. This whole havin' a husband and kids thing doesn't really afford me the time or the quiet I need to write.<br /><br />Today though I decided I don't really care about all those hours of Facebook updates. They were amusing at work, but once I'm at home, ehhh....whatever....but I've gotta figure out somethin' with my blog. I LOVE writing......so yeah. I'll figer it out.<br /><br />On a completely different note, I did the whole couponing thing for the first time this week.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlotKwmtVrwYuv2EYhJqBzxvO_12eyteG5PU8YOBiMWC46LaGY0xNTjypTEp5tAfLqC8qUVQZETdR-gX0zk1jMnDuHtfmWwRz-uN42dzNaZXLRpG2RyhvxPbYopyWz2vJhxO9eVGkGv8-5/s1600/003.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlotKwmtVrwYuv2EYhJqBzxvO_12eyteG5PU8YOBiMWC46LaGY0xNTjypTEp5tAfLqC8qUVQZETdR-gX0zk1jMnDuHtfmWwRz-uN42dzNaZXLRpG2RyhvxPbYopyWz2vJhxO9eVGkGv8-5/s400/003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467954669795523746" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I was totally THAT person at the check out handin' over a wad of coupons. I got $145 worth of groceries for $76! Pretty fuckin' amazin' if you ask me. I was a total ratard about all of it (and still kinda am). I couldn't figure out how the hell to do it.....this whole coupining thing......so I had to be shown.....and that whole bein' shown thing.....well....that's leadin' to yet another change and.....<br /><br />Change is good right? Right?'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-21990361282862349612010-05-01T13:30:00.000-04:002010-05-01T13:32:51.220-04:00What the Hell Were You Lookin' For???I have a statcounter on my blog that shows me all kindsa awesomeness. I loved seein' where people are from that look at my blog....how they came to it......how long they spent readin' my nonsense......I used to look at it everyday, but I eventually got to where I just don't check it as often and now, I hardly ever check at all. Another thing that has fallen to the wayside, because I've got other shit to do.....<br /><br />I do LOVE the statcounter's "recent keyword activity". It can be pretty danged amusin'. It shows you what words were searched for that brought a person to your blog. I've been compiling a list of my favorites for a while.....it's pretty crazy the shit people search for. Even more crazy is the fact that some of the crazy shit people've searched for brings them to my harmless blog. I've google the words and linked to the posts the searches lead to...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-UtMC8Z5um9wPPI7RbtR35f9tN9zsK_NjHWNgLiep20-Edgbvlt0IL45WTscihcqJHYYHMKMAYinCkYocAfiLH04RpRdtn6O8Su-Q95xN2oyzuGTwyy1cDsLNVqFZfkDo4RFJttphSC5N/s1600/wtf.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-UtMC8Z5um9wPPI7RbtR35f9tN9zsK_NjHWNgLiep20-Edgbvlt0IL45WTscihcqJHYYHMKMAYinCkYocAfiLH04RpRdtn6O8Su-Q95xN2oyzuGTwyy1cDsLNVqFZfkDo4RFJttphSC5N/s400/wtf.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466355613630099218" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://cuzifeltlikeit.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-hit-retard-once-and-havent-been-same.html">how to hit a retard</a> - What? He grabbed my vagina!<br /><br /><a href="http://cuzifeltlikeit.blogspot.com/2009/06/whatever-happened-to-tighty-whities.html">six blak gay weht aneml</a> - Um....ewww.<br /><br /><a href="http://cuzifeltlikeit.blogspot.com/2009/10/who-doesnt-love-tongue-tacos.html">shredded tongue</a> - Surprise your friends....cook this and just tell 'em it's roast. They'll LOVE it and after they tell you how awesome it is, tell 'em what it really is.<br /><br />girl squirting blogspot - yeah...not sure. I googled it and got tired of wadin' through all the squirtin' girls.<br /><br /><a href="http://cuzifeltlikeit.blogspot.com/2008/10/slut-shoes.html">I need small slut shoes</a> - I do love me some slut shoes. Too bad I'm all fat and my feet are all small so I walk around like a weeble wobble....and then I do fall down.<br /><br /><a href="http://cuzifeltlikeit.blogspot.com/2009/08/me-and-my-comet-its-pretty-much-love.html">how do you get the tires off a 62 comet</a> - Ummm.....a jack and a tire iron perhaps?<br /><br /><a href="http://cuzifeltlikeit.blogspot.com/2009/02/us-bitches-are-goin-out-tonight.html">where u bitches going tonight</a> - Us bitches do like goin' out....<br /><br /><a href="http://cuzifeltlikeit.blogspot.com/2009/07/me-and-my-treadmill.html">I pretend I'm hiking on the treadmill</a> - I still whimper and cry a little when I think of this. I.....am scarred.<br /><a href="http://cuzifeltlikeit.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-loved-being-kidyeah-its-totally.html"><br />do little boys butts stink</a> - What the fuck? Why would someone google this?!?!? Bet they were disappointed when the got to my blog and read about plastic charms, Galaxy High and Multiples.<br /><a href="http://cuzifeltlikeit.blogspot.com/2009/06/whatever-happened-to-tighty-whities.html"><br />Am I gay if I like tighty whities?</a> If you are under the age of 55, yes, yes you are.<br /><a href="http://cuzifeltlikeit.blogspot.com/2009/09/jailhouse-choppers-bike-night.html"><br />Where can I buy a beer bike?</a> I dunno, but when you find out, you gotta tell me, cuz I bet I can figer out how to make a whiskey bike.....<br /><br /><a href="http://cuzifeltlikeit.blogspot.com/2009/10/todays-thoughts.html">I've never really felt it before...but I think I like it...</a> - I didn't feel nothin', but it was nice that somebody finally listened and took their pannies off.<br /><br /><a href="http://cuzifeltlikeit.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-secrets-out-im-eight-months-pregnant.html">I'm eight months pregnant and haven't exercised</a> - I'm about 8 1/2 months now and have been for like 4 months.<br /><br /><a href="http://cuzifeltlikeit.blogspot.com/2009/09/trash-can-of-death.html">Death is like a garbage</a> - Ever been doused in trash can juice? I have.<br /><br /><a href="http://cuzifeltlikeit.blogspot.com/2009/07/uncomfortable-wiggly-sorta-problem.html">Shit in panties</a> - I did not.'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-85558542825113649502010-04-29T20:42:00.001-04:002010-04-29T20:45:03.180-04:00Got My Free Moo Cards!.....and they ain't mini sized anymore!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVvJc_YhegaYBHglvpQQyw8H6FYb2WHMZddU09SOyoA0A11iNtkiLyKWUutA9nXZcp3YbIiv5TKeubKJ_dcfVA-woNswlFn_G_MB6iPqjrFgrLs-l9LmrfiF9LV-qAQGP_XZdijBMD0Nzb/s1600/003.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 326px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVvJc_YhegaYBHglvpQQyw8H6FYb2WHMZddU09SOyoA0A11iNtkiLyKWUutA9nXZcp3YbIiv5TKeubKJ_dcfVA-woNswlFn_G_MB6iPqjrFgrLs-l9LmrfiF9LV-qAQGP_XZdijBMD0Nzb/s400/003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465724771431766290" border="0" /></a><br />I love 'em!!!'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-46087807514751829362010-04-29T09:47:00.007-04:002010-04-29T13:07:02.825-04:00I Wish I was Better At ItHaving meaningless chit chat with strangers. Like when you're stuck on an elevator and someone says something about the weather.....c'mon....I'd rather not have to talk to you.....and your cologne smells like ass....but I'd really like to have meaningless chitchat and not even think of it as "meaningless"....just think of it as a part of life.....right now though, it just irritates me.<br /><br />Givin' a shit. When one of the kids or myself or Jeremy is sick or there's something crazy happenin' in our lives, co-workers and friends alike will ask how things are....I don't really ever ask. Is it because I don't wanna know? I don't care? I don't know. I can make myself ask the question, but I can't make myself even hear their answer. I'm not sayin' I'm like that with EVERYONE 100% of the time (I'm not totally cold, there are actually people I care about), but I'm like that with most everyone. I<span style="font-style: italic;"> really</span> hate that about myself.<br /><br />Not biting my nails. I have short, fat, stubby boy hands with gnawed fingernails. That shit's gross.<br /><br />Maintaining yard work. It seems like such a futile effort. Weeds are gonna grow in the flower beds faster than I can pull them and grass just doesn't wanna grow in the yard....and I don't wanna waste money on trying to make it grow either.<br /><br />Keepin' my house clean. Some time ago, chances are if you called me, I was cleanin' somethin'. I cleaned, cleaned, cleaned. Then I got a life and it slowed down....then I slowed down some more....then I pretty much quit.....ok so I didn't, but I don't do it like I should.<br /><br />Caring.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH_cviCPDifu16lmkwteoazE04yIc8llV_yx1d5mGk-s66wXqXRkhXtx9TJrRIANqIx-WwQahSIWn57waJpzYlp-6QoogBQY-VL5lCmEOjvEKUUtP72vi601h_1tf5QKO1F0MmtpIOSLE0/s1600/i.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 381px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH_cviCPDifu16lmkwteoazE04yIc8llV_yx1d5mGk-s66wXqXRkhXtx9TJrRIANqIx-WwQahSIWn57waJpzYlp-6QoogBQY-VL5lCmEOjvEKUUtP72vi601h_1tf5QKO1F0MmtpIOSLE0/s400/i.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465605976770201218" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Being spontaneous. I like to always have a plan and always stick to that plan. I like to be on time everywhere I go and when I'm even a few minutes behind, I panic. The way I see it, spontaneity doesn't really work when you have kids and dogs that have to be taken care of, but other people who have one or the other or even both seem to be successful and just gettin' up and doin' somethin' without a plan. Why can't I?<br /><br />Forgetting. I can forgive all day long, it's the forgettin' part I seem to have trouble with. I think if you forget certain things, you can find yourself at a fork in the road and you can accidentally take a road you've already been down before that you probably shouldn't go down again, but who knows......with the pace at which our world is changin', that path could be totally different......but I don't wanna find out the hard way that it's not.<br /><br />Remembering. There are so many things I have done, said, seen or been a part of that I just can't remember. I can't remember pretty big milestones in both the kid's lives. Someone will say, "oh shit...remember when you blah, blah blah....that was funny as hell".....nope....don't remember, but it sounds like something I would do.<br /><br />Pronunciation. I just can't say "going"....I gotta say "gonna". Even in an interview....I'm all white trash and sayin' shit like, "They're gonna let me continue to work until I find a new job". Gonna. Yep. How I type is pretty much how I talk. Sayin' going sounds retarded to me. It just ain't natural. I wish I could get over that so I didn't sound so white trash when I don't need to.<br /><br />Stayin' focused. Prime example. I wrote "stayin' focused" like 10 minutes ago. Then I picked my nose, looked to see what kinda treasure I had and saw I had black sharpie all over my hands. So I went to the bathroom to wash the black off and decided I should braid my hair....and then I thought, I bet that big ass bobble head helmet I have would look better with braids instead of my fro pokin' out.....so I went and grabbed the helmet.....and then I saw the computer sittin' there and remembered I was writing here. See? I'm like a squirrel chasin' after shiny shit.<br /><br />Saving money. I can't do it. I wanna do it, but then I think when I die, I can't take it with me......so I'll spend it now. I know I need to save....I just can't do it. Credit cards are satan....if I could just save for a few months, I could buy that part I need for my car without using a credit card.<br /><br />Ending the things I write more smoothly. You see....when I'm done....I'm done.....and that ain't very good for someone who fancies herself a decent writer. There should be some sort of transition ya know?<br /><br />The End.'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-33852157831766362412010-04-28T08:15:00.000-04:002010-04-28T10:22:19.494-04:00Beans Don't Fry In the Kitchen....Beans don't burn on the griiillll......<br /><br />Yeah, that totally has nothin' to do with this post, but I woke up at like 6 o'clock Saturday mornin' (which is when I initially started writin' this, but my internet kept shittin' out on me!) and had that Sinead O'Connor song "Nothing Compares to You" stuck in my head. I laid in bed until just before 7 singin' the same shit over and over and over....<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">It's been seeevvven hours and fifteen days</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">since you took your love away</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />I go out ever-ry night and sleep all daaa-ay</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Since you took your love away</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Since you've been gone I can do whatever I waa-aaa-aaant</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />I can see whomever I choose</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaaa-aaa-aaaaurant,</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">but nothin'....I said nothin' can take away these bluuuuuuuuuues<br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;">'Cuz nothin' compares</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Nothin' compares to yeeeeewwwwww.</span><br /><br />That song was me and my first boyfriend's "song" and it's one of my all time favorite songs, but I didn't particularly wanna be singin' that song all day.....so I started singin' <span style="font-style: italic;">Beans don't fry in the kitchen, burns don't burn on the grilllll...took a whole lotta tryin' just to get up that hillllll</span>......<br /><br />.....and then I got outta bed and ate another pancake and bacon cupcake.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcne-0DxGrcQDCa1GbC_xVSKtnlqYTeUmVIMapCgoJJI2_fDWXv2PzfNkgyvqPfLybRnq2dkB-9oYnNOngSXRTTwuOR8LwGhY1o7q3s7F1t7PeUK-IVUYNc8EU9VvJAx57x3xAtkDcqYg/s1600/009.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcne-0DxGrcQDCa1GbC_xVSKtnlqYTeUmVIMapCgoJJI2_fDWXv2PzfNkgyvqPfLybRnq2dkB-9oYnNOngSXRTTwuOR8LwGhY1o7q3s7F1t7PeUK-IVUYNc8EU9VvJAx57x3xAtkDcqYg/s400/009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464053595204947490" border="0" /></a><br />Two words.....HEA-VEN. More than you can possibly imagine. I've promised the recipe so here it is.....<br /><br />You'll need to make sure you have the followin' stuff and if you ain't got it, you gotta get it:<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">Cupcake tin (this recipe makes 24 cupcakes)</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">Cupcake Liners</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">1 pack of bacon</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">Cupcakes:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">Box of Duncan Hines Moist Deluxe Butter Recipe Yellow cake mix....which requires:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">3 Eggs</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">1/2 c. softened butter </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">2/3 c. water</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">For Frosting:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">2 Tblsp. softened butter</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">2 Tblsp. maple syrup (like Ain'tcha Mama....you don't need anything fancy)</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">1 1/2 c. powdered sugar</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">1. Lay out butter so it can come up to room temperature</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">2. Preheat oven according to box (depends on what kinda pan you use)</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">3. Put liners in cupcake tin</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">4. Cook bacon and once cooled, cut up into pieces</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">5. Mix cake according to the box and stir in 3/4 of the bacon</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">6. Bake according to box</span><br /><br />While cupcakes are baking, make frosting:<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">1. In a medium sized bowl, beat butter (has to be room temp!) and maple sugar with mixer until well blended</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">2. Gradually add in the powdered sugar</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">It doesn't look like it makes much, but it's the PERFECT amount for 24 cupcakes!</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Once cupcakes have finished baking, pull them out and let them cool COMPLETELY on a cooling rack prior to frosting.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Once they've TOTALLY cooled, frost them bad boys and top with bacon sprinkles....yes....I said bacon sprinkles!<br /><br />Now, go do it and try not to eat at least a half dozen of 'em at once!</span></span><br /><br />...and just so's ya know, you go to to Publix and buy their cupcake holders for like .50 a piece. Other store may do it to, but I know Publix does.'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-60914560310623910162010-04-26T20:50:00.012-04:002010-04-26T21:36:30.961-04:00In the Meantime......I made these Friday night.....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXciSoBrrGOnCjA06htO2TLPcKKANwrkF0P5-sgIfT4KvLnrLtElnTCnoKMnaKulSwGN3c45amv20azHM8lL0Lsk_ACuIpjme0bxOAVOmGYEDegvj8BBImESrgB73mcPRFr3hUML8gTYGM/s1600/014.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXciSoBrrGOnCjA06htO2TLPcKKANwrkF0P5-sgIfT4KvLnrLtElnTCnoKMnaKulSwGN3c45amv20azHM8lL0Lsk_ACuIpjme0bxOAVOmGYEDegvj8BBImESrgB73mcPRFr3hUML8gTYGM/s400/014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464614373160499666" border="0" /></a><br />and these.....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-wnRs6D6MBX5XHiDQx1wBuHGqyfHa2B2uAdolSBo3-gw0nkx7QSuMmdC7x0P_1gr0eair7ABa5su1jIdiOymGKVQfsMJz1Y3KJ62Ui8zTfMJ2S6Y-vJP4Otv8-uN50xos6UiQ9GGRtkVg/s1600/009.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-wnRs6D6MBX5XHiDQx1wBuHGqyfHa2B2uAdolSBo3-gw0nkx7QSuMmdC7x0P_1gr0eair7ABa5su1jIdiOymGKVQfsMJz1Y3KJ62Ui8zTfMJ2S6Y-vJP4Otv8-uN50xos6UiQ9GGRtkVg/s400/009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464614041576065026" border="0" /></a>......Pancake and bacon cupcakes......with maple frosting. Oh. My. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Gah</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">HEA</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">VEN</span>. They were a pretty big hit for anybody that was brave enough to try 'em. Addictive actually. Lots and lots of people asked me for the recipe. I spent way to much time <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">writin</span>' it all out to post here and my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">internet</span> took a shit TWICE....and didn't save it......so I have to write it a third danged time. I'll get around to it this week....swear.<br /><br />So, in the meantime.....this is what's been <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">happenin</span>' in our lives.....<br /><br />This little lady was one of two Italian Greyhounds that stayed at our house when me and a couple of my girlfriends had a slumber party.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrxBV3L_yDjjzQCsB20zEsIXeSMSw1SFCH3-VUXz3X73ZGKcPiY_rQmxOFVzZGC4z1NLx-u3DTOQj16yw1CPMrGdAcwGFkI9t89NnE1-Ni_ILIxbXkAuAtwaNDlrXuJcmShxghFAu0kOQ-/s1600/011.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrxBV3L_yDjjzQCsB20zEsIXeSMSw1SFCH3-VUXz3X73ZGKcPiY_rQmxOFVzZGC4z1NLx-u3DTOQj16yw1CPMrGdAcwGFkI9t89NnE1-Ni_ILIxbXkAuAtwaNDlrXuJcmShxghFAu0kOQ-/s400/011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464614051300020434" border="0" /></a>These dogs are the sweetest, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">preciousest</span> dogs like ever. I never knew such sugary sweetness existed in dogs.....<br /><br />.....especially compared to this devil who is only sugary sweet when she's sacked the fuck out........<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ4xV10N9AH7VmMJcmWeXd9URA3-JwABtHQ5-hDbf6wOfe2DffGj7cvx4xkURTooaS-HACeh8mpUFdIkfj8ouksWMFkOAdXr8lrJMFE45qZFq-UunZH7xmx3fUWgnve7dAY_0wt5SEmtEu/s1600/002.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ4xV10N9AH7VmMJcmWeXd9URA3-JwABtHQ5-hDbf6wOfe2DffGj7cvx4xkURTooaS-HACeh8mpUFdIkfj8ouksWMFkOAdXr8lrJMFE45qZFq-UunZH7xmx3fUWgnve7dAY_0wt5SEmtEu/s400/002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464617142482279890" border="0" /></a><br />This.....<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQCbGbMplE9gvVgKr4Nn-27EEAtWcfdov-myWs2rcM6wt-phfe_layC0L9ZBCiXR1mRy9vjvn1i2jX-3HZHPnN9jy1pX-3RHEhsJrb7Rds0PjYe7NDMts2FzncIiI9dQgQ3XWAuIns_Zqu/s1600/021.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQCbGbMplE9gvVgKr4Nn-27EEAtWcfdov-myWs2rcM6wt-phfe_layC0L9ZBCiXR1mRy9vjvn1i2jX-3HZHPnN9jy1pX-3RHEhsJrb7Rds0PjYe7NDMts2FzncIiI9dQgQ3XWAuIns_Zqu/s400/021.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464614027796870354" border="0" /></a>......is what Jeremy did to our one of our cats. He's so fat he can't even jump up on our bed. He has to jump half way up and claw his way up the rest of the way. His spit smells like ass too. Like if you start <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">pettin</span>' him, he drools and if you get it on your hand, it smells so bad you puke when you smell it hours later.<br /><br />I bought myself.....uh hmmmm......the girl....this over the weekend.....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrdCuTn5FWZX_A0nf4GlBlt75BHw_9o-idgFAs0f4Kpg4dCT2vXSO59vg6X5Ge-JWSs_ZsS_a8Kz-kEfRM_y6piE6_o6ykrzlADjYULP5bb-UyNPidUfekuLIsqSeA7tgkFNN-Q1hSTM1n/s1600/005.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrdCuTn5FWZX_A0nf4GlBlt75BHw_9o-idgFAs0f4Kpg4dCT2vXSO59vg6X5Ge-JWSs_ZsS_a8Kz-kEfRM_y6piE6_o6ykrzlADjYULP5bb-UyNPidUfekuLIsqSeA7tgkFNN-Q1hSTM1n/s400/005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464624820007913106" border="0" /></a><br />These are some other treasures I got this weekend......<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCkKg15xd15XhUjpBibq4hPuajaTz0KAUpfwio-zEaTEA1a0Kt4-Ayb7tT43aNJfkKXZdDXdyp-05EBTx3zvgzvKaJkkUWFOgDZx944tspMisrDuVy4HMV2G2ga5WUWMD7EhbJGmVyOrE3/s1600/003.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 259px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCkKg15xd15XhUjpBibq4hPuajaTz0KAUpfwio-zEaTEA1a0Kt4-Ayb7tT43aNJfkKXZdDXdyp-05EBTx3zvgzvKaJkkUWFOgDZx944tspMisrDuVy4HMV2G2ga5WUWMD7EhbJGmVyOrE3/s400/003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464618581012883330" border="0" /></a>I love treasures. It was a fun day. Yep....<br /><br />Until this happened......<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKkCy43Ue8qBIWaBn9f9LjdNeHZtI4Oyzhn_Fh7UzYVZvX2S5KryXJKk7ZB8N9EtWTtKRvapAV9C1fGKsEKqUX8ctaajw5EsKWZa3jtXvTRUAbU8VyAlI4fv3TV9AIEKZEWz-ei_PORCez/s1600/081.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKkCy43Ue8qBIWaBn9f9LjdNeHZtI4Oyzhn_Fh7UzYVZvX2S5KryXJKk7ZB8N9EtWTtKRvapAV9C1fGKsEKqUX8ctaajw5EsKWZa3jtXvTRUAbU8VyAlI4fv3TV9AIEKZEWz-ei_PORCez/s400/081.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464620153585920674" border="0" /></a><br />See that ginormous lump on my forehead? It's a mosquito bite. It was huge and rubbery <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">feelin</span>'....everybody pointed and laughed....I kept my hand on my forehead for like 42 minutes so nobody would stare.....it didn't work......<br /><br />Oh! I forgot....I got a job! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">YESSSSSSSS</span>!!! Closer to home......all <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">kindsa</span> awesome benefits.....it's the kinda job you stay with FOREVER and retire from.....and I'll be makin' WAY less money. Hey....it's a job. I'm lucky to have gotten one.....thank you sweet baby jesus. Amen.'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-72122649862887007302010-04-21T11:25:00.013-04:002010-04-22T20:37:53.419-04:00Puberty.....Do What Now?I don't even know where to begin here.<br /><br />Should I start with the part about the lump?<br /><br />Should I start with the word congratulations?<br /><br />Should I start with the part about gay sex?<br /><br />Sweet Jesus help me.<br /><br />Again.........<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUIZHHYYNLnEqfBVwKu6uXTEgog4ysY8Zw6aWW-HwuqLigz5mocICcTq2Gx6sZT8HUFWKSMuBHCin-7OhTBQsU-Sf2H_M4N_fhxAZlyzrGS4yUQC235a6iDAeqjv2sdkg6ka0CkX9T7IjV/s1600/a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUIZHHYYNLnEqfBVwKu6uXTEgog4ysY8Zw6aWW-HwuqLigz5mocICcTq2Gx6sZT8HUFWKSMuBHCin-7OhTBQsU-Sf2H_M4N_fhxAZlyzrGS4yUQC235a6iDAeqjv2sdkg6ka0CkX9T7IjV/s400/a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463125555580832994" border="0" /></a><br />I remember when I was in 4th grade I took a gymnastics class offered by my school. I loved the thought of all the twistin' and turnin' and flippin'.....and Mary Lou Retton made it all look so effortless. Turns out though, the closest to Mary Lou Retton I'd ever be was the black, purple, blue and white leotard I wore that had her name on the tag.<br /><br />I can see that leotard as clear as if I still had it today......and with my memory, that's a pretty big accomplishment. I remember it because I dreaded havin' to put that damn thing on. DREADED IT. All the color was on the upper half and the bottom half was white. I can remember thinkin'.....I hope nobody can see my hairs pokin' outta this thing.<br /><br />You know....those hairs that're....... down yonder. I was MORTIFIED by those hairs. It's all I'd think about when I was wearin' my leotard. Now I know that nobody coulda seen a thing, but I knew they were there and I was very uncomfortable and unsure about that and all that came with goin' through puberty.<br /><br />I mean, who knows.....I coulda been the next Mary Lou Retton if I'd not been so worried about people seein' THOSE hairs.......<br /><br />Ok. So.........<br /><br />The girl came home from school the other day with a lump in one of her breasts (can you even call them that at this point?) . She said somebody had elbowed her when they were playin' and that's when she noticed it. It was tender and it was definitely a lump.<br /><br />I called her doctor and had to leave a message. A few hours later, my phone rings, I answer it, and the doctor says, "Congratulations you have a girl that's starting puberty."<br /><br />I'm sorry.....do what now??? No.<br /><br />That's all.<br />.<br />.<br />.<br />.<br />.<br />.<br />.<br />.<br /><br />No, wait that's not all. I just needed a moment.<br /><br />After I came to grips with it all and figured that even if I stuffed her in a closet and slid a tray of food under the door a couple times a day, I couldn't stop this. I've been preppin' her for this already, because I don't want her to ever feel self conscience like I did.<br /><br />I'm just.....not ready for a girl goin' through puberty. With the boy, it didn't phase me so much (well except maybe that time I walked in the bathroom and saw that he had sprouted a garden down yonder.....I hadn't expected THAT.....I'm sorry, I still can't talk about it).<br /><br />When I got off the phone with the doctor, I called the girl into the kitchen and told her she didn't have breast cancer (the first thing outta her mouth when she told me, but she said she knew she was too young for that), she was just startin' puberty. She says "yeah that's what I figured...so I'm gonna start growin' boobs now right?"<br /><br />No.<br /><br />Dammit.<br /><br />So then I say "well, at least I've already gotten <a href="http://cuzifeltlikeit.blogspot.com/2010/02/s-word.html">the "talk"</a> outta the way."<br /><br />She says, "the talk?"<br /><br />....."yeah, THE talk....you know".....and then she gets it.<br /><br />Then she says......"about that"......<br /><br />......."I've been meanin' to ask you".........<br /><br />......."You know gay people? Do they do it too?"<br /><br />Sweet Jesus.<br /><br />I always, always, ALWAYS want her to feel comfortable askin' me anything and everything.....and to accomplish that, I feel like I need to never show the "holy fuck, I think I'm about to puke" feelings that these kinda questions evoke in me.<br /><br />I close my eyes.<br /><br />Take a deep breath......<br /><br />....and turn to look at her.<br /><br />She's just standin' there lookin' at me all, "well, you gonna answer me?"<br /><br />I turn back to cleanin' out the microwave and say, "yes honey.......all adults who are in a committed relationship and love each other VERY, VERY, VERY much can have sex."<br /><br />She says....."even gay people??? <span style="font-style: italic;">How</span>?"<br /><br />Ugh......<br /><br />Flashes of destroying a young innocent mind flash through my head.<br /><br />I ain't about to paint THAT picture for her.<br /><br />I settle on sayin' "just like everybody else.....they figure it out.....not stop askin' me questions....you got a sore throat don't you......go sit down and be quiet for a while."<br /><br />Dammit.<br /><br />I'm so glad the boy keeps to himself with these sorta things. Even though I try to get stuff out of him, and tell him all the same things about how I want him to feel comfortable about askin' me ANYTHING, he never asks THOSE kinda questions. The worst I got from him was, "Mom, how old were you when you first had sex?"<br /><br />That threw me for a loop, but I feel more comfortable answering his questions than I am the girl's.......it's the whole double standard thing between raisin' boys and girls.<br /><br />The boy, as soon as I think he's thinkin' about doin' it (ok, I know he's already <span style="font-style: italic;">thinkin' </span>about it....how about thinkin' about actin' on the thought), I'm gonna hand him a box a rubbers and tell him all the nasty shit that can happen to him if he doesn't wear one.<br /><br />The girl on the other hand.....dammit.......<br /><br />I can't even think about it.<br /><br />I refuse.'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-68895347597280798322010-04-20T17:38:00.010-04:002010-04-21T10:48:21.619-04:0050 Free Moo Mini Cards!<a href="http://us.moo.com/en/products/freepack.php">Moo Mini Cards </a>are my favorite business cards ever! They're these little mini business cards that you can put your own photo or image on (up to 100 different images per order!).... and you can even put an image on the back with all your contact info too. They're not the best priced business cards out there ($19.99 for a box of 100), but they're ridiculously cute and people definitely take notice of them when you hand them one......and right now, you can get <a href="http://us.moo.com/en/products/freepack.php">50 free cards</a>!<br /><br />I've totally slacked on makin' things lately, but with all the time off I'm probably about to have, I figured it'd be a good time to start makin' my bears again. I may even do a show or two over the Summer....who knows what the future holds. Either way, I need new business cards and there's not a better time to get some then when I can get 50 free!<br /><br />Here's the set I had made a few years ago......people LOVED them.....(I even had a batch printed up that had a little bit of the back story for my Battle Scarred Bears and used them as tags for the one's that were at the Spruill Gallery).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2jjQsuYlySNO9l_OnkKOKK6xt6FwzChG2QJbnqhVH64UDmn59QnuZyXUeXExJZK5aJEMuBb8Rnd4ekA66y9sQp0PZ_0Vl07pvDQZJjf7kikVm2ev5zZMfz9UpLQL-M9L15r9tf5E5fS0e/s1600/moo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2jjQsuYlySNO9l_OnkKOKK6xt6FwzChG2QJbnqhVH64UDmn59QnuZyXUeXExJZK5aJEMuBb8Rnd4ekA66y9sQp0PZ_0Vl07pvDQZJjf7kikVm2ev5zZMfz9UpLQL-M9L15r9tf5E5fS0e/s400/moo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462342207093258946" border="0" /></a><br />Because they're free, there will be a Moo Cards promotion bar on the side of the cards...... No big deal...they're <a href="http://us.moo.com/en/products/freepack.php">FREE</a>!....and trust me, when you hand out these cards, people'll ask questions because they're so unique and with the promotion bar, all the info they need is right there on the card....even with a discount code for first time users.<br /><br />When you get your 50 free, you'll have to pay for shipping......$6 I think. There's also and option to put a certain amount of money towards your next purchase of Moo Cards (up to $10) and they'll <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">match</span> that amount! I chose to put $10 towards my next purchase so I have a $20 credit waiting for me when I decide to reorder! SUH-WEET!<br /><br />I'm not sure when this offer ends, so you better get on it if you're interested!!!'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-6833400844729031342010-04-16T06:35:00.002-04:002010-04-16T10:16:29.317-04:00She Shows Her FaceIn 1994, I followed a boy to Alaska. I came back with Freya.<br /><br />She's been through a lot in her 16 years. She's been on a 13 hour plane ride which forever changed her personality, lived in at least 6 different places, and survived two kids that went through the terrible two's for like 3 years.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA13jJsHUSOvwFwWptNgUwUGFDwK58YXmgxZ_ZG6SuzADQmtiWrjuvR6ejF1FYQ_-NlZ05Q1jT4vYq9UKotd0YXg1oG0vM-cXe_sQYb4w6q5wldrIvrUqnuwYYENwwADGHCfXlwyANJNt-/s1600/025.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA13jJsHUSOvwFwWptNgUwUGFDwK58YXmgxZ_ZG6SuzADQmtiWrjuvR6ejF1FYQ_-NlZ05Q1jT4vYq9UKotd0YXg1oG0vM-cXe_sQYb4w6q5wldrIvrUqnuwYYENwwADGHCfXlwyANJNt-/s400/025.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460125663690345698" border="0" /></a><br />A few years ago she decided to crawl under our bed and never come out. Up until recently, the only way to get her out was to wait until you could see her tail pokin' out from under the bed and give it a good yank. That sure as shit pissed her off, but damn....if I don't cut her nails once a month, they'll grow into her little toes!<br /><br />Once I'd finally drag her out, I'd have to hold her so tight I'd dang near squeeze her guts out her butt and she'd just eyeball me with her huge ass eyes like she was shootin' laser beams through me. The very second I'd finish, back under the bed she'd go.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-TCq1nWN7Bl9bwBxyYNIzt_tPbPizojElBYQNX0mBipNYtIcjsHM1BtZSL4lKcyqj-es40aSfoY8Kax8SfFZ4waXG03UGthPv-3HMvGx5QplhAkiISsvwcVn3kYqWW_fni9fo-vfWV_80/s1600/034.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-TCq1nWN7Bl9bwBxyYNIzt_tPbPizojElBYQNX0mBipNYtIcjsHM1BtZSL4lKcyqj-es40aSfoY8Kax8SfFZ4waXG03UGthPv-3HMvGx5QplhAkiISsvwcVn3kYqWW_fni9fo-vfWV_80/s400/034.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460125675079736482" border="0" /></a><br />For the past several months though she's been comin' out a lot hangin' out on our bed instead of under it. She still never leaves our room, but it's nice to see some sun shinin' on her pretty little face.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkLV_hvn5cf0g00NsqYLkDU75KwKJ0li1DKUxixbTmuaiOhQ-TN54uP0IbIJdgK8K97YsIcE9jTnbPgUuVPryF3RBDIeH8LkdGrUsSGNezkOOF0QWm1S3zu0E23CMA_4YrokgNkIesUK5w/s1600/032.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkLV_hvn5cf0g00NsqYLkDU75KwKJ0li1DKUxixbTmuaiOhQ-TN54uP0IbIJdgK8K97YsIcE9jTnbPgUuVPryF3RBDIeH8LkdGrUsSGNezkOOF0QWm1S3zu0E23CMA_4YrokgNkIesUK5w/s400/032.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460125670858600898" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I say she's gonna out live us all.......'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-14670344263305480512010-04-15T07:15:00.003-04:002010-04-15T10:24:25.363-04:00Music for Yer Soul....My Soul....WhateverMy new musical obsessions.....at the moment......<br /><br />(You'll want to pause my music player in the sidebar if you wanna watch any of these!)<br /><br />Even though the first time I heard this song, it was only a little snippet (gawd I hate that word), it grabbed me and didn't let go. It took me about 20 minutes of listenin' to that little part over and over and googling different lyrics from it until I finally found it.<br /><br /><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.chuckraganmusic.com/">Chuck Ragan</a><span style="font-weight: bold;">......Between the Lines.</span><br /><br /><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YdfSXAjNOXg&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YdfSXAjNOXg&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />This song makes me wanna drive fast, smoke cigarettes, drink whiskey and shake my ass....all at the same time.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Every Time I Die....We'rewolf</span><br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wmBN28ixcK8&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wmBN28ixcK8&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />By now you all know I have a weakness for the ridiculous. Especially when it comes to booty shakin' music. Can't remember how I came across this, but it was on the computer. I watched the video like 18 times.....then I decided that I wanted to do the chair dancin' part with my friend Chewy......and we'd wear leotards. One day. I swear.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Beyonce f/Lady Gaga......Video Phone</span><br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/CGkvXp0vdng&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/CGkvXp0vdng&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Yet another song that makes me wanna drive fast, smoke cigarettes, drink whiskey and shake my ass....and maybe even take my pannies off.....all at the same time.<br /><br />The video's pretty funny, but the song on it's own doesn't have all the cartoon shit in it.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Peter Pan Speedrock.......Resurrection</span><br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JbWdajU-_sQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x234900&color2=0x4e9e00"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JbWdajU-_sQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x234900&color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br /><br />Last, but not least.<br /><br />This here song takes my back to bein' a teenager when I was nothin' but right all the time and I didn't give a shit what anybody else had to say about anything.<br /><br />Wait....that's me now....anyhow.....<br /><br />This song has became my favorite thing to say whenever I'm questioned about anything.<br /><br />Smut Peddlers......Fuck You, That's Why<br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ipzHglsRSOs&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ipzHglsRSOs&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdcYsunwJSP5qBdUj332K_BiNXXOVrxaeLAHTOUZtNtRW54XdrrKCflFfK3craPVFTPjSXnbFKHtamENvqbOd7hFbiOqqpvr0ZePotj_tEelFd62cpHU2ZqO1WfpV6UDB_2VC65AmAlAuF/s1600/wooo.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdcYsunwJSP5qBdUj332K_BiNXXOVrxaeLAHTOUZtNtRW54XdrrKCflFfK3craPVFTPjSXnbFKHtamENvqbOd7hFbiOqqpvr0ZePotj_tEelFd62cpHU2ZqO1WfpV6UDB_2VC65AmAlAuF/s400/wooo.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460367990406223010" border="0" /></a>'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-64689293426120271832010-04-14T12:00:00.000-04:002010-04-14T12:00:48.444-04:00Dear Facebook Quizzes, You Can't Always Be Right<span style="font-size:100%;">According to Facebook, I am 100% Latina, I could survive a zombie takeover for 3.5 years, if I were to go to jail it would be because I "just had to shoot that guy", my ghetto nickname is June Bug and the sandwich that best represents me is a pulled pork sammich.</span><br /><br />I'd say all that's pretty dead on wouldn't you?<br /><br />Man I love Facebook. I ain't ashamed to admit it.<a href="http://theoatmeal.com/quiz/facebook_addict"><br /><br /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://theoatmeal.com/quiz/facebook_addict"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 357px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwk-qb3nXycRMWhUzM-5DQUIyfA8ZFBCvIUPyE1Z1p28k6xW50n9oSQgCxT3Z0vESV5H4wlGXLszxG-434kuvuhyte2EpoDovXpDvXCGQ-nkNaCcC94jdNlj0-0L1DeDs8I-DTaFoUDb0s/s400/9_55.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460021619039444498" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">(Click the picture to find out how addicted to Facebook you are.)<br /></span></div><br /><br />...and the quizzes are just a small part of that love. I mean shit....who doesn't wanna know what dead rockstar they most resemble or what kinda kiss (not <span style="font-style: italic;">kisser</span>...just <span style="font-style: italic;">kiss</span>) they are?!?! Psht...I totally do.<br /><br />The most recent quiz I took was called "What's your biggest weakness?" This was the result......<blockquote><em>Your heart. You are often loved because of your outgoing and fun personality, and you like to give hugs and flirt, but underneath it all you are lacking heart. You find it hard to love others through all the walls you've built around your heart from being hurt so much throughout life, but you want to love, you desperately want that fun, that you see in others, but you don't know if you can have it in your current circumstances. You want stability, but at the same time you need change. You go from one extreme to another and often feel overwhelmed when you can't figure out something. You think about your life often and how you can improve your character. The walls need to crumble for you to truly be YOU.</em></blockquote><em><br /></em><span style="font-size:100%;">Ok, so.....I would like to have a word with the Facebook quizzerer people and just say.....YOU DON'T KNOW ME! I may be 100% Latina and I may be the doggy style position, but you got that shit all wrong. Just sayin'......guess you can't be right all the time. I'll let this one slide Facebook, but don't let it happen again.</span><em><br /></em>'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-24119992926923951672010-04-12T21:25:00.006-04:002010-04-13T07:24:59.825-04:00Cigarette Box Flash DiffuserA few months back I took a photography class taught by Jenn at <a href="http://blondeshotcreative.blogspot.com/">BlondeShot Creative</a>. In the class I had told her how much I hated usin' a flash. It washes out people and just doesn't capture the moment the way you see it.....even through the lens of the camera.<br /><br />Jenn suggested a homemade remedy to diffuse the brightness of the flash by using a<a href="http://content.photojojo.com/diy/diy-film-container-flash-diffuser/"> film canister</a>. I came home and dug through all my junk lookin' for a film canister, but haven't bought film in like 8 kabillion years. After comin' up empty handed, I sat on the couch and pouted for a while then I just completely forgot about it.<br /><br />Today, Jenn sent me an email with a link showin' <a href="http://www.instructables.com/id/Cigarette-Packet-Flash-Diffuser">how to make a flash diffuser usin' a box of cigarettes</a>. I knew I had one of those!.....or Jeremy did anyways. I couldn't wait to get home and try it. I had to wait for Jeremy to get home and as soon as he walked in I asked if he could empty his pack of cigarettes.<br /><br />This is what you'll need........<br /><br />Your digital SLR with pop up flash, a pack of smokes (emptied with foil still in it) and a knife.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioMAY05JAofa9QyywX3L6FKHAaQAGKsBF2CM7ihOlfcDLK1xmEeJBOfeQ5MeweuUG5ZQh39mEFQ9rHUcqvwu4iyyIKHBhRMOUxBKkVwSBuMi7XhOMPF31LVSYzcvuEWS1ccHOTT7125sE/s1600/005.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioMAY05JAofa9QyywX3L6FKHAaQAGKsBF2CM7ihOlfcDLK1xmEeJBOfeQ5MeweuUG5ZQh39mEFQ9rHUcqvwu4iyyIKHBhRMOUxBKkVwSBuMi7XhOMPF31LVSYzcvuEWS1ccHOTT7125sE/s400/005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459428218719004930" border="0" /></a><br />After carefully pulling out the foil, makin' sure not to rip it, cut one edge of the bottom of the box.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgME9969x3x2dv1aDINi-1clAwHF43Wv_66zjSJkYj9m5RDzFaDAr5LsF76hYcPRROL9Z5Y0YXKOhiIFppGu22w69ay54N_jV44tsj_u6om2PhiFnBrdLEDUqdncIt20UxNnVBOcXR8FY0/s1600/009.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgME9969x3x2dv1aDINi-1clAwHF43Wv_66zjSJkYj9m5RDzFaDAr5LsF76hYcPRROL9Z5Y0YXKOhiIFppGu22w69ay54N_jV44tsj_u6om2PhiFnBrdLEDUqdncIt20UxNnVBOcXR8FY0/s400/009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459428217981937826" border="0" /></a><br />Here's what it should look like after you've cut it.....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNUKkS3Opy2yga3dm6zM5UE3P8LcPtNh5hqlxvkZA750JV6ZVpQDRSXBrlxor_Ns5GRj0SUhlq8PVdoBVAVHVqYgLeDfR2LMctKeZqs2f8Z6EcVsKVfedVI6QrH5-tQg_l8bbUqovXYrA/s1600/011.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNUKkS3Opy2yga3dm6zM5UE3P8LcPtNh5hqlxvkZA750JV6ZVpQDRSXBrlxor_Ns5GRj0SUhlq8PVdoBVAVHVqYgLeDfR2LMctKeZqs2f8Z6EcVsKVfedVI6QrH5-tQg_l8bbUqovXYrA/s400/011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459428205657769218" border="0" /></a><br />Turn the foil inside out so that when you put it back in, the foil's facin' in........<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOynqmEI05gHbkxZROWibh4w__coRCkaT8yzokc4t8I2adcpOe01AMQ0VyA7B8xl_fTrazjqmvLqhbbA5C5OJvmP0MEf-Oy7QNoglWx0_VnCVZ0wVykYTI7vMQP8yXtMQo8NLvTZka9Ic/s1600/012.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOynqmEI05gHbkxZROWibh4w__coRCkaT8yzokc4t8I2adcpOe01AMQ0VyA7B8xl_fTrazjqmvLqhbbA5C5OJvmP0MEf-Oy7QNoglWx0_VnCVZ0wVykYTI7vMQP8yXtMQo8NLvTZka9Ic/s400/012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459428062200982610" border="0" /></a><br />Push it all the way back in......<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix3gaFfp_rpTjNAdDW2pj22MpgtTEUeSQUMtSwR-5Ax0h8xbvZEbSWLeouXn_jIx_tY-bRmYO8dcXib8SkmPxzMoSQkY7Pq8X7KNkvjLrWnV2-zHqslygW9MWJVhfG5nRcrKvc4n5WduY/s1600/014.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix3gaFfp_rpTjNAdDW2pj22MpgtTEUeSQUMtSwR-5Ax0h8xbvZEbSWLeouXn_jIx_tY-bRmYO8dcXib8SkmPxzMoSQkY7Pq8X7KNkvjLrWnV2-zHqslygW9MWJVhfG5nRcrKvc4n5WduY/s400/014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459428057334926338" border="0" /></a><br />Once you have popped up your flash, put the box on like this......<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf_0etf64ExgGA15YQv4GoCbl65L0irLJo8Sq7AXsc3faX3L3hxdaE05gMmN0428vWtQX4Xad17cGMtllE19_QDOEov7lW7-4dwEiHMEYQreBmy8KphgeassrjYd4ptX4El-p6UBEwjCc/s1600/015.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf_0etf64ExgGA15YQv4GoCbl65L0irLJo8Sq7AXsc3faX3L3hxdaE05gMmN0428vWtQX4Xad17cGMtllE19_QDOEov7lW7-4dwEiHMEYQreBmy8KphgeassrjYd4ptX4El-p6UBEwjCc/s400/015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459428046961451122" border="0" /></a><br />I messed around with it quite a bit while takin' pictures and actually ended up turnin' the box around so the top was opening up the other way like in the <a href="http://www.instructables.com/id/Cigarette-Packet-Flash-Diffuser">link</a> Jenn had sent me.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2h-sEWeVJHGEPA0wskmo_XxVQsRWSWKiAFD6R575e5c3g4P7KWnk3rFeHXPmaIFgCE5oVefAQOckyPoGKUBgntsrw5o3JZlUhAQ6i-jUjHrTnIdwRkEEoXZrm1LEuBKQf04a5lhPt6y8/s1600/017.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2h-sEWeVJHGEPA0wskmo_XxVQsRWSWKiAFD6R575e5c3g4P7KWnk3rFeHXPmaIFgCE5oVefAQOckyPoGKUBgntsrw5o3JZlUhAQ6i-jUjHrTnIdwRkEEoXZrm1LEuBKQf04a5lhPt6y8/s400/017.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459428044980693074" border="0" /></a><br />Here's my first shot....without the diffuser. (You're diggin' my awesome red makeup free skin ain't ya?). I'm all shiny and icky.......<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtAvBExlKa-oysxNzhx3oApg53-GTQAn6oqlmT9tk3Y4VPvsvZ9Kwrm4VlIwlo39AW2JKUUY72g1KUI1HXOevyaUHprbvGHG0Kin6WRnZCTBl-5US5ybHZ7wsz2y3MUvKAuvFurD-NoEE/s1600/018.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtAvBExlKa-oysxNzhx3oApg53-GTQAn6oqlmT9tk3Y4VPvsvZ9Kwrm4VlIwlo39AW2JKUUY72g1KUI1HXOevyaUHprbvGHG0Kin6WRnZCTBl-5US5ybHZ7wsz2y3MUvKAuvFurD-NoEE/s400/018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459428036615762594" border="0" /></a><br />This one is with the diffuser......much prettier and softer........<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtFeBSPEF5HZyFfO8ah_SLLwAmC39Po93DVP0UCxPXrO0d-XgHTxe1XauEw6KJ7e2pijrT36EKV-AnTHUA3e1AR6u6a3cDVeyD_QLu5hUvHCHC8g8SNxA_038pQkDwK52X-SzWV3fcams/s1600/019.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtFeBSPEF5HZyFfO8ah_SLLwAmC39Po93DVP0UCxPXrO0d-XgHTxe1XauEw6KJ7e2pijrT36EKV-AnTHUA3e1AR6u6a3cDVeyD_QLu5hUvHCHC8g8SNxA_038pQkDwK52X-SzWV3fcams/s400/019.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459427764661478834" border="0" /></a><br />Without diffuser.........<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhouEwjeCHN_Omg-5zdw6Kl33XAYfhLrj067OalKUBcZrvDnBcQxg_GZiEZwhWc0vKztUcYJ6Me4vk85QOnZlq7mblQ0-grHpZhTGPMpgV6zwUEET6LYnvpjOEzDJG02qToDe9UEvasZiM/s1600/020.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhouEwjeCHN_Omg-5zdw6Kl33XAYfhLrj067OalKUBcZrvDnBcQxg_GZiEZwhWc0vKztUcYJ6Me4vk85QOnZlq7mblQ0-grHpZhTGPMpgV6zwUEET6LYnvpjOEzDJG02qToDe9UEvasZiM/s400/020.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459427758077275698" border="0" /></a><br />With diffuser.......<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ5UkqxaCB6yIYYTACsAJAOBhICrgAlZfMv67HJidCJI39ru3ks-3kuP6gxesxr_ssBNiz7V_SWTjVXnsZmF9b4Egb_JMgqsU6jmj-zeQCF76vmRxdSudiKKa7qb32doLwGir__LJGh1o/s1600/021.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ5UkqxaCB6yIYYTACsAJAOBhICrgAlZfMv67HJidCJI39ru3ks-3kuP6gxesxr_ssBNiz7V_SWTjVXnsZmF9b4Egb_JMgqsU6jmj-zeQCF76vmRxdSudiKKa7qb32doLwGir__LJGh1o/s400/021.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459427752628672594" border="0" /></a><br />Without diffuser......<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0hvr3ogwZwue5DNOTnwoS7VuHb9T0pIQ69tP7TP0lRWb-6Oo9syEIt2L1fyKmzYRbeCoEgEbAud5IJcLdyLm3_CFv0kPLCA15d5eyxx2sTqEGJzC5lEKTJPpPaZArEgu-HyX4q6ghusc/s1600/024.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0hvr3ogwZwue5DNOTnwoS7VuHb9T0pIQ69tP7TP0lRWb-6Oo9syEIt2L1fyKmzYRbeCoEgEbAud5IJcLdyLm3_CFv0kPLCA15d5eyxx2sTqEGJzC5lEKTJPpPaZArEgu-HyX4q6ghusc/s400/024.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459427745099492178" border="0" /></a><br />With diffuser.......<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbecTByrGQs31U-GInYcWE2nJeTlapeuNFMqxbobWjwFKPxGUD8Augn2jv_84yAqMKMdoMkVJv9MQH6yeAuZxAxva8Q2mFpOG-d5ACZK-gvSpb9q-PyrO9cLQLopudJdE9nkOp2SGX49Q/s1600/025.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbecTByrGQs31U-GInYcWE2nJeTlapeuNFMqxbobWjwFKPxGUD8Augn2jv_84yAqMKMdoMkVJv9MQH6yeAuZxAxva8Q2mFpOG-d5ACZK-gvSpb9q-PyrO9cLQLopudJdE9nkOp2SGX49Q/s400/025.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459427737928600338" border="0" /></a><br />I really had a lot of fun takin' these pictures and as you can see it really worked! I definitely wanna try the film canister diffuser now. I think it may stay on better. I had some trouble keepin' the cigarette box on at times and don't think it would be too practical if I were takin' say some inside party pictures. If you're just doin' some still shots around the house this method will work just fine!<br /><br />Thanks Jenn!!!'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/15166607170676220736noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-35330059519281767782010-04-12T11:16:00.010-04:002010-04-12T12:01:21.219-04:00Strange How Things Work Out SometimesOver the weekend the kids went to Tennessee with their Grandparents. When I met them to pick the kids up, my Mom said the kids had a blast! They even got to go swimmin'.....by the nuclear power plant! Hmmm......okay (said in my best valley girl voice).<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0shFu6iKvQAqoSrDuMjKGx0l0suBuDmk-7gBPiFKZ_HTi8JYOkZiec0-HhIvagcH-i9ViUXOUb4RwTVBioKYLBw2XBAuaIXNqCYR-qhI_bocr5M_Z6P2xXxyBRlI6fDtqdXBgEQVPwKlb/s1600/whoa.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0shFu6iKvQAqoSrDuMjKGx0l0suBuDmk-7gBPiFKZ_HTi8JYOkZiec0-HhIvagcH-i9ViUXOUb4RwTVBioKYLBw2XBAuaIXNqCYR-qhI_bocr5M_Z6P2xXxyBRlI6fDtqdXBgEQVPwKlb/s400/whoa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459272560210894578" border="0" /></a><br /><br />She said the green foamy stuff floatin' on the water's edge wasn't a problem at all. She said she knew for a fact it wasn't the kinda waste that could possibly be affecting the water surrounding the plant.....you know....the kinda waste that includes materials used in the nuclear fission process like, oh, I dunno.....spent uranium rods, which contain the highest level of toxins and radiation?!?!<br /><br /><br />Ok, I'm totally makin' all that shit up. My mom said it was all ok and I trust her judgment. She said they were at a place that had a sandy area by the water where people were fishing and there were a few picnic tables, too. She did tell me though that when she saw the sign that said "Toxic Water....Do Not Be Alarmed By Fish With Three Eyes", she figured any toxins that were in the water would just affect the fish since the sign said nothin' about humans havin' three eyes.<br /><br />Ok, so I'm makin' up that part, too.<br /><br />After my mom first told me where they went swimmin', I did say somethin' like "Oh GREAT! Now the kids are gonna start growin' a third eye Mom....way to go!".....and the girl looks at me and says, "whadda you mean?" So I told her that nuclear power plants released all sorts of toxic stuff into the water that makes people who swim in it grow third eyes on their foreheads. She stood there all squinty eyed lookin' at me like I was full of shit.....then she kinda rubbed her forehead and got in the car.<br /><br />Fast forward to this mornin'.<br /><br />I'm dead asleep when the girl comes in to wake me up and she's soundin' a little panicked. She says, "Mom. Wake up! Mooooommmm." I roll over, look at my alarm clock and tell her somebody better be dead...I got 7 minutes before I gotta get up. She starts cryin'. Oh sweet baby jesus. I half expected things to not go so smoothly this mornin' since it was the first day back to school after Spring Break....but cryin'?.....really?<br /><br />I sit up and say, "what is it?" Through her tears and snot bubbles she says, "I-I-I have a bump on my head and it really, really hurts! I can't even stand to touch it it hurts so bad!" I reach over and feel the bump and say "it's just a zit honey".....more tears.....and "but it hurts SOOOOOO bad! So, So, So Bad!" So I put on my glasses and have a look. Sure 'nuff......it's a zit.....a big ol' whitehead....her very first one.....on her forehead.......the day after I told her she was probably gonna grow a third eye because her Grandparents let her swim in the water by the nuclear power plant.<br /><br />Hmmm......is there a lesson to be learned here? If so, I ain't figured it out yet.'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-26023946893032816712010-04-08T18:01:00.018-04:002010-04-11T11:16:46.428-04:00A Week In PhotosI saw this ice cream truck the other day.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqytXFmXHuSSZGF5VtSiaNbNW-NKdY5Q-eGs7KFvkLQl1Fn7c7fAT-5PJTavE65DGlBVGmXXrLet4038ob70AKZhxe_fhxmKD5Op5fsFu5qj68PYmOxmO0Y9SQngTX9X-06r0IjGTsgb2j/s1600/003.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqytXFmXHuSSZGF5VtSiaNbNW-NKdY5Q-eGs7KFvkLQl1Fn7c7fAT-5PJTavE65DGlBVGmXXrLet4038ob70AKZhxe_fhxmKD5Op5fsFu5qj68PYmOxmO0Y9SQngTX9X-06r0IjGTsgb2j/s400/003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458876950005711490" border="0" /></a><br />First thing I thought was......damn they sure are far from home, maybe they're goin' to an ice cream convention......I should totally follow 'em and see. Second thing I thought was.......there ain't no ice cream trucks that look like that 'round these parts. Here in the South you almost feel like you're riskin' your own life to approach the ice cream man's truck. I seriously did wanna follow them to see where they were goin', but what if they were just headed back to California? I mean what a colossal waste of time that woulda been. Ultimately, it was the white milky substance dumpin' out the back of it and hittin' my windshield that made me just go ahead and turn where I was supposed to. I was totally outta whipperwhiper fluid so I ended up just smearin' that shit all over my windshield. I was pissed. I love ice cream.<br /><br /><br />I pass this painted tree from time to time.........What is it? Why is it there? It drives me BONKERS and one day I'm gonna be drivin' along and I'm gonna be all lookin' at it as I drive past and *KABAMOOIE!!!!!!!!* I'm gonna rear end a stopped car.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU-V0fjwyawMRI7uqBHuINi8TnlS_RVe-yGf0bl4Axf8xj38KKINC2r8DhLuvQxPlgoONB2gMLrwE8zHv66i8JwHwm4Vj9ht2uUz9TxYfRBw4mUP4Qg28u1_bBjk3rBu48rA6OKLN5c262/s1600/009.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU-V0fjwyawMRI7uqBHuINi8TnlS_RVe-yGf0bl4Axf8xj38KKINC2r8DhLuvQxPlgoONB2gMLrwE8zHv66i8JwHwm4Vj9ht2uUz9TxYfRBw4mUP4Qg28u1_bBjk3rBu48rA6OKLN5c262/s400/009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457894685633137906" border="0" /></a> Is it some kinda Indian ritual? Did somebody die in a car accident there and they loved blue paint and red frisbees and this is someone's last tribute? Is it there just to distract people like me from actually seein' somethin' else in that area that we could be seein' if we weren't lookin' at this, this.....whatever the hell it is? WHAT IS IT?!?! I'm losin' sleep dammit!<br /><br /><br /><br />This.......<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaoZVI4_KalCLZmzrUX_km3_wGGX27wfyK_nDiWRiK6jJZ1_wrL0y-CBWqtykuLe4frQd_vY9EJ6hPB6nUCjSMvXjVwGFJYleiUkiZhKjhOuBXAveWsgK55OlV8E3j3egfv4kzZpHXSss4/s1600/003.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaoZVI4_KalCLZmzrUX_km3_wGGX27wfyK_nDiWRiK6jJZ1_wrL0y-CBWqtykuLe4frQd_vY9EJ6hPB6nUCjSMvXjVwGFJYleiUkiZhKjhOuBXAveWsgK55OlV8E3j3egfv4kzZpHXSss4/s400/003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457894199641722402" border="0" /></a>....is the girl's version of our family on the Sims game. Her and her brother are DEAD ON. Like crazy dead on. Me and her dad on the other hand......she says....Mom, it won't let me make you and Dad any bigger, not like taller, but like.....bigger.....and they don't have hair as big as yours either. Take note Sims game.... not everyone in this world (especially in America) is a size 6 with beautiful hair.<br /><br /><br />This was the girl right after finding the last Easter egg.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwzuB9Q69hLdN7XI_azM6y5Wg4uVTE9Qv-VtsBA4B8WGwDmU28zqht14rZJCUpacj_karop7IYQcdJhRx263H8uDwPyXx1vcJcURC7KHuF55JIyRc76bvCQpL08vnMWOiEp7MvNxYWGzZ5/s1600/082.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwzuB9Q69hLdN7XI_azM6y5Wg4uVTE9Qv-VtsBA4B8WGwDmU28zqht14rZJCUpacj_karop7IYQcdJhRx263H8uDwPyXx1vcJcURC7KHuF55JIyRc76bvCQpL08vnMWOiEp7MvNxYWGzZ5/s400/082.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457893384555122722" border="0" /></a>I've decided that I hate hidin' Easter eggs. What has become of me????? I used to love playin' the part of all these holiday characters. I'm pretty sure at this point she knows all of it's a bunch of hooey, but she's still goin' along for the ride so she'll still get all the benefits of believin'. I've thought about payin' her brother to tell her it's all fake....it's a sham....she's been had, but she'll still get all the presents....better him than me right? I mean, I don't wanna be the one to bust her bubble completely. I already had to be the one to talk to her about <a href="http://cuzifeltlikeit.blogspot.com/2010/02/s-word.html">S-E-X</a>.....I should get a free pass on this one dontcha think?<br /><br /><br />Here's our dearest Wheezy.......she's almost five months now.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBwrkwTyDmpza-nsHXTNdRRBbpwiwZNc5EjP8b6sSY1rinSC4hamN9X8P95tTVYUzgZ_-DFRKS9LDd5p21oj65eDDVup7BDpW52B_vbooc0Y-KyaHuZmQom7-xoaITjt1e0rdzbq7kiS0v/s1600/003+%283%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBwrkwTyDmpza-nsHXTNdRRBbpwiwZNc5EjP8b6sSY1rinSC4hamN9X8P95tTVYUzgZ_-DFRKS9LDd5p21oj65eDDVup7BDpW52B_vbooc0Y-KyaHuZmQom7-xoaITjt1e0rdzbq7kiS0v/s400/003+%283%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457890300449628898" border="0" /></a>She has two modes. Haulin' ass and passed the fuck out. We've joked around that she's narcoleptic, but sometimes I really wonder. She'll run, run, run and leap through the air just to land in my lap and be completely sacked out the next second. There's no sittin' and relaxin' for a bit then fallin' asleep. It's the weirdest thing.<br /><br />True story.....yesterday Wheezy jumped up in my lap. Jeremy came over and started sayin'.....you're gettin' very sleepy....very, very sleepy....he said it over and over for just a few seconds and no shit, she fell over. I don't mean like she just fell asleep like usual. She totally and completely<span style="font-weight: bold;"> fell</span> the fuck over and was OUT.<br /><br />I hear Jeremy's Mom used to do the same thing to the neighbor's chickens when she was a kid.<br /><br /><br />I came across this on this morning's<a href="http://postsecret.blogspot.com/"> Post Secrets blog</a>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://postsecret.blogspot.com/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 280px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRO27hw248rNIoPiI8NhynmfIfhrf_3pgnEQeGTWdqLUP9ertDrx73ZBxD7tF-7ZU4Y6ZHYTLs0JsYY5BXT_y-74Pj2t09aslDGO4uRSxVWMvVU-j4NBxBUB8d2oN4oc-7os6dCpFFkOJH/s400/resume.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458876957497706146" border="0" /></a>After a month now of lookin' 8,000 times a day at every job site I can find and sendin' out resumes for jobs I totally don't want, jobs makin' way less money or jobs that I'm way over qualified for and still hearin' nothin' back from 99.9%, this really helps me hold onto hope. I'm not the only one. I've known I'm not, but there's somethin' about seein' it on Post Secret that tells me it's all gonna be just fine. Thank you Post Secret......you are the first thing my brain processes every Sunday mornin'.'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-63759949395836111452010-04-08T09:32:00.008-04:002010-04-08T10:40:21.341-04:00Still On The HuntLord have I neglected my blog! I think about it everyday, but when it comes to content I got nothin'. Hell, I still got nothin', but I'm sittin' in the living room in dead silence. Everyone else is still asleep so I can actually sit and think and write for a minute.<br /><br />I still haven't found a job. I'm goin' on what?.......a month now? I'm guessin' I've sent out over 80 resumes by now. Every day when I get to work, I'll open up every job site I can think of and just hit the refresh button every 15 - 30 minutes. The new listings have drastically slowed down. When it first happened a couple weeks ago, I about went over the edge. I had a <span style="font-style: italic;">really</span> bad week that week. Like wanted to crawl up in a ball and cry while suckin' my thumb kinda bad....well that or beatin' the ever livin' crap outta the first person that looked at me wrong. I finally pulled myself out of it. I had to take my own advice that a really good friend threw back in my face after me havin' told her the same thing over and over. So thanks to her, I got over it and moved on. A shitty attitude will get me nowhere.....gotta stay positive, positive, positive.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHl_5EkWNItTWrz6WOHLoPEl4N0vmw96vdEfeM1GnnErpAu1OjJF7Icd16TgJzqAYl_5tYzcieaqYIe0TSz3nCabhZT2nc0JBuHC6iN7TVkMF7Eo8wNCd1K0Q78EJYPKyyOplu3su13piW/s1600/jobhunt.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 259px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHl_5EkWNItTWrz6WOHLoPEl4N0vmw96vdEfeM1GnnErpAu1OjJF7Icd16TgJzqAYl_5tYzcieaqYIe0TSz3nCabhZT2nc0JBuHC6iN7TVkMF7Eo8wNCd1K0Q78EJYPKyyOplu3su13piW/s400/jobhunt.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457776349430531954" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Earlier this week, I had to complete a typing test to qualify for a job at City Hall. Turns out 50,000 other ladies were also tryin' to qualify for the same job, but what's new? When I arrived at the testing office, I looked around I thought "Really? This is what my competition is????" One lady had her kid with her, another lady was wearing jeans that had the crotch of 'em missin' because of her thighs rubbin', another chick was on her cell phone while the lady administering the test was trying to talk to her and the last lady had no fuckin' clue what a TAB key was!<br /><br />All I could do was sit there and think, "so........as long as these ladies, type fast enough, they have as much of a chance as I do?!?!?!" Niiiice. If I was the person administering the test, the second those ladies walked in with a kid, jeans that had been eaten by their crotch or with a cell phone attached to their ear I woulda just shook my head and pointed to the door. You mean to tell me that you can't find somebody to watch your kid for an hour? You can't go to the thrift store and buy a pair of slacks? You can't put your fukin' cell phone down for just a minute? And then there's the lady that didn't know where the TAB key was. I'da just patted her on the back.....bless her heart.<br /><br />By the time I had left there were six more ladies waiting. Out of those six, one had her kid with her and another one looked like she hadn't brushed her hair weeks. What a waste of my time......Even though I passed the with flyin' colors (and none of the ladies that were before me did), I left feelin' totally defeated.<br /><br />The next day though things turned around, because I was called in for an interview. Despite the fact that when I left, I felt like I had been through a tornado and came out thinkin' "what the fuck just happened?", I think things went pretty well. I said VERY little.....hell, I had very little chance to actually say anything, which could be a very good thing, because I ain't exactly polished or always professional. When I left, I left knowing that they have a very heavy case load, what the hours would be, that I could wear jeans and flip flops, that I was exactly what they were lookin' for, but they still had a few more interviews and that I would be makin' less money than I do now. Man I hope I get this job! Keep your fingers crossed for me!'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-81723577450061664722010-03-23T20:02:00.000-04:002010-03-23T14:11:04.714-04:00More Antique AwesomenessJeremy and I went to <a href="http://www.scottantiquemarket.com/atlanta_shows.htm">Scott Antique Market</a> for the first time earlier this month. If you've never heard of it, it's an antique market that's held every second weekend of the month and is in two buildings that together span 366,000 square feet......not to mention the outside vendors!<br /><br /><br /><br />I was really in more of a lookin' mood than buyin' mood.....and I didn't have much cash on me either which I think is the only thing most vendors except.....at least shoppin' in my price range.<br /><p></p><p>I wanted all this......</p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449015590361662834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNsJJ0I08aenaLfC1yoLVK0OG5fQP14-_ZVDgSIn2cWbzgwcjprOGRyvLZwk7aj7M3hUIjyodvTYI7zDbk-6fyYxk7a-lSSUB3BUXNnxW5RpfxmwqWluiCmgkVJL2eQXG8JBWAgkZnm-Ji/s400/004.JPG" /><br /><br /><br />.....and this......who wouldn't love a giraffe with little tube things sproutin' from his head?<br /><br /><br /><br /><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLY8byVS1G8aGwk_UjKACaCvM99RNDzYIgF1NyfvTGh4YjFqsgEjnLBJK4RtYIruNYPRjPm9kn90AjRuoCPcuRnLPkfEpKMFFQApUwaDJT491u36vaghtHkNfXrQdkmAs6Y9XlgU9Q5O1K/s1600-h/008.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449015615658222914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLY8byVS1G8aGwk_UjKACaCvM99RNDzYIgF1NyfvTGh4YjFqsgEjnLBJK4RtYIruNYPRjPm9kn90AjRuoCPcuRnLPkfEpKMFFQApUwaDJT491u36vaghtHkNfXrQdkmAs6Y9XlgU9Q5O1K/s400/008.JPG" /></a> </p><br /><p></p><p>.....and then this. No smokin' in our house, but so what? That shit's just awesome.</p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtyVshbZTL7MHJe5XiO4P_t8mm1sewTIaIyOuZK91s5i83p5EcBFAZZbUEtOxYN0cqRDZ0B2YR8Og6QHuapNxmDM01hyPuibnQRUhz0hyto-QQ-rCo1sIyzSKkUtcRxxqnAJ3lf26jTzdc/s1600-h/007.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449015607856947282" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtyVshbZTL7MHJe5XiO4P_t8mm1sewTIaIyOuZK91s5i83p5EcBFAZZbUEtOxYN0cqRDZ0B2YR8Og6QHuapNxmDM01hyPuibnQRUhz0hyto-QQ-rCo1sIyzSKkUtcRxxqnAJ3lf26jTzdc/s400/007.JPG" /></a> </p><br /><p>...and Mr. Tiger.....despite the fact the he was very Ed Hardy-ish, I really loved him.</p><br /><p></p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzNAj6XAZWABxE0Yu8UtUuT1c-_HylC_P5NIIZhNAkfO7MijaoYNt0MS0VHnwr4xssBFVV2lViG9ko7_F2sbUyPZKMTYaVrWs06rDUUiaxjtlva643n8ZyEq8n3GNQVyiM_jyiCk4Bbf5r/s1600-h/005.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449015599034389042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzNAj6XAZWABxE0Yu8UtUuT1c-_HylC_P5NIIZhNAkfO7MijaoYNt0MS0VHnwr4xssBFVV2lViG9ko7_F2sbUyPZKMTYaVrWs06rDUUiaxjtlva643n8ZyEq8n3GNQVyiM_jyiCk4Bbf5r/s400/005.JPG" /></a><br /></p><p>These guys....they were fantastical. Tennis playin' chipmunks. I woulda took 'em home and named 'em somthin' like Sampson and Borris and they coulda hung with Tina and her baby wolfcat, but at $245, they were a bit outta my price range.<br /></p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8jliZw5fLQuY6NCsXFNi4c1J01hJMXAYP6FHG59jLRfQSrm0hxNKSc3VdWwwqF0q5jufhyphenhyphenwTCjNs0qeu0z5Ks0BJFXhj1wI21SptqMysefNv9ux3c8AG9NGxUOT7aa97k2diYrXdiXZHQ/s1600-h/003.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449015582404839538" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8jliZw5fLQuY6NCsXFNi4c1J01hJMXAYP6FHG59jLRfQSrm0hxNKSc3VdWwwqF0q5jufhyphenhyphenwTCjNs0qeu0z5Ks0BJFXhj1wI21SptqMysefNv9ux3c8AG9NGxUOT7aa97k2diYrXdiXZHQ/s400/003.JPG" /></a><br />So after hours of walkin' around that was pretty much all I found that I wanted. I'd say I much prefer Big Shanty, but we'll go back to this one when it comes back around....if only for the food.....</p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUzWmDfBT8Wjm6DUeyTe_PPAmKNHNeOsQmBYb4zuJNoqkLBMiOzgFhPAMUhSdwTvIRZ2k3dMOVWU9n81PLKJGyqc_URc8puH1LulCuK9df54Sy09I7PQva9C7tedzqjaobvgTtsJafdQ8Z/s1600-h/009.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449015868528825730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUzWmDfBT8Wjm6DUeyTe_PPAmKNHNeOsQmBYb4zuJNoqkLBMiOzgFhPAMUhSdwTvIRZ2k3dMOVWU9n81PLKJGyqc_URc8puH1LulCuK9df54Sy09I7PQva9C7tedzqjaobvgTtsJafdQ8Z/s400/009.JPG" /></a></p><p>Jeremy had his first gyro ever and I had my first falafel ever. It was ok. I'm way to much of a meat eater to have truly enjoyed it though. Next time I'ma try my hand at the fried chicken, greens and macaroni and cheese covered in bacon. It all looked A-mazin'. I love food.</p>'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-14820619426320650402010-03-17T10:29:00.006-04:002010-03-17T11:37:43.085-04:00F*@k You That's Why<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxy0Dnat6pPr13VE8Y7fEOy0NRBWmI9N7lCE7Eliq73DlDPkOkXVB0_q_V0NMMqODUe2pxLKSBeJ9BG4stRlnpE0hLsS8oTWQTo2ihyphenhyphenbgxiS7gu8vuQ5CSazL7E6eGvgGTxJeqWEqkoIba/s1600-h/flip-the-bird.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449627284920145826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxy0Dnat6pPr13VE8Y7fEOy0NRBWmI9N7lCE7Eliq73DlDPkOkXVB0_q_V0NMMqODUe2pxLKSBeJ9BG4stRlnpE0hLsS8oTWQTo2ihyphenhyphenbgxiS7gu8vuQ5CSazL7E6eGvgGTxJeqWEqkoIba/s400/flip-the-bird.jpg" /></a> Since I first had the sneakin' suspicion that I was gonna lose my job, I've stayed pretty positive......well, since I had my weekend of not leavin' the house or the couch anyways. The way I <em>TYPICALLY</em> see it, there's nothin' so bad it couldn't be worse.<br /><br /><em>However</em>....that positive upbeat shit only works for so long when I'm forcin' myself to be that way. My future is uncertain and uncertainty and I ain't on speakin' terms if you know what I mean.<br /><br />I don't feel like workin' on my fake smile and my "everything will work out in the end" bullshit today. I'm losin' my job and I'm pissed, stressed and hurt....and tired. I'm tired of closed door meetings, I'm tired of gossip and rumors and I'm tired of lookin' at all the job sites 30 times a day to see that nothin' new has been posted 98% of the time and I'm tired of sendin' my resume to jobs that I'm over qualified for and that won't pay my bills. I'm just fuckin' tired.....and this is only the beginning.<br /><br />I've had two interviews which in itself is a damn miracle. That means out of the approximate 800 resumes said to be received by each and every job posting on careerbuilder.com, I somehow rose to the top.....twice. I didn't get the job for the first interview I went on, and haven't heard back from the second one yet. Fingers are still crossed.<br /><br />*****************************************************************************<br /><br />Since it's St. Patrick's Day, I'll leave you with this little Irish sayin' that I've had written in the back of one of my journals since I was a teenager.<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;"><strong><blockquote><span style="color:#006600;"><strong>In the end, there are only two things to worry<br />about.....<br />Either you are well or you are sick.<br />When you're well, there is<br />nothing to worry about.<br />But if you're sick, then there are two things to<br />worry about.....<br />either you get well or you will die.<br />When you get well,<br />there is nothing to worry about.<br />But when you die, then there are two things<br />to worry about......<br />either you'll go to heaven or you'll go to hell.<br />When you go to heaven, there is nothing to worry about.<br />But when you go to hell,<br />you'll be so damn busy shaking hands with friends,<br />you won't have time to worry!<br />SO WHY WORRY!?<br /></strong></span></blockquote></strong></span><br /><br />Tomorrow will be a different day. I will plaster on my fake smile which will eventually become a real smile and I will resume my positive attitude, because that's the only way I'm gonna make it. Yep, tomorrow I'll get right back on it. Why not just do it today?.......Fuck you that's why.'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-33753552747037585782010-03-15T19:39:00.011-04:002010-03-16T11:47:13.887-04:00$10 Gets You the Whole Seat, But You'll Only Need the EDGEA few weeks ago Jeremy and I took the kids to see motocross for the first time and let me tell ya, there ain't nothin' better than $10 seats!<br /><br /><br /><br />Ok, so that's a total lie, but when you factor in $40 parking (we lucked out though and only paid $20), $4 for bottled water and sodas, $5 for Dippin' Dots (which the kids....ok and me..... HAD to have) our little trip to see motocross ended up costing us damn near $90!<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_NVPkkIwYHapxM8I59xWmSlkd0d7GkY3smbpHL2N0nExacJPb-WH-VZvfmBBpQtlbcWSqE3vO8hPaGWtW5RIeqoE4EpimDWBUmV0G1IHsgudKL365RoKduCC8Ao9fQWo77Ue7b_XFENBO/s1600-h/001.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449011086733159026" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_NVPkkIwYHapxM8I59xWmSlkd0d7GkY3smbpHL2N0nExacJPb-WH-VZvfmBBpQtlbcWSqE3vO8hPaGWtW5RIeqoE4EpimDWBUmV0G1IHsgudKL365RoKduCC8Ao9fQWo77Ue7b_XFENBO/s400/001.JPG" /></a><br /><br />When we first got to our seats I think we all were feelin' a bit queasy. I ain't no pro on angles, but those seats were on one helluvan angle. One little misstep and it was down to the bottom. Nothin' but ass over elbows. And you're only gettin' $10 seats because you a) are takin' a family and don't wanna take out a second mortgage to go see motocross or b) they wanna be able to afford gettin' shitfaced. Yeah. Families tryin' to save money and people wantin' to get shitfaced all together. In THOSE seats...no bueno. In all seriousness, it was somethin' to get used to, especially for someone like me who's a little top heavy and prone to trippin' over my own feet.<br /><br /><br /><br />We got there way early so we had plenty of time for people watchin'.<br /><br /><br /><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoAirxkW7qPS21GiKSM-IT_sloqa-VFFd5aphAY0sb4_XyT8TONbPKfL-F7Ns36-LcFoUNMe8z3AvCZsLiw_w027eJ9fJeBJyPLpX6_B4hzEiB4sd_MIVM2_pYByc4_MucNAGl8fuUeBqM/s1600-h/009.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449010805038196690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoAirxkW7qPS21GiKSM-IT_sloqa-VFFd5aphAY0sb4_XyT8TONbPKfL-F7Ns36-LcFoUNMe8z3AvCZsLiw_w027eJ9fJeBJyPLpX6_B4hzEiB4sd_MIVM2_pYByc4_MucNAGl8fuUeBqM/s400/009.JPG" /></a></p><br /><p>I have never in my life seen so many kids with those razor haircuts, black eyeliner, hats sideways or hoods up over their heads. It was really weird to see SO MANY kids dressed the same and as the girl pointed out, there's no difference between the boys and girls. They all had the same sad faces, same textin' phones, same bangs in their eyes haircuts and same clothes. Is this the the new goth? I know I dressed all kindsa fucked up as a kid, and I know that I got stared at by people that just didn't get it, but damn these kids look freaky like little clones of each other. </p><br /><p>We had a few of those kids sittin' directly in front of us and the girl kept debatin' all night whether or not one of them was actually a boy or a girl. At one point a fight had broke out two rows behind us so the kids in front of us had turned around to see and my girl said, "yeah, definitely a boy....I think". Honestly, I wasn't sure either. So I told her it was one of those "third gender" people like they have in India. That shut her up.</p><br /><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXeup2qmZo8DoE3UvJNTxHGUPAVfhqDVab-P6Ie5uBp0m6W6PvUT2JdTC_NYI6K_hFtDVI0KcQsDiASJdhIqojHk3Errd14ih8NmzzBxx6XbseG_27TsgBKGJ0rcLd293Je-wHtxw1q-9j/s1600-h/006.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449010790540230514" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXeup2qmZo8DoE3UvJNTxHGUPAVfhqDVab-P6Ie5uBp0m6W6PvUT2JdTC_NYI6K_hFtDVI0KcQsDiASJdhIqojHk3Errd14ih8NmzzBxx6XbseG_27TsgBKGJ0rcLd293Je-wHtxw1q-9j/s400/006.JPG" /></a> </p><br /><p>It's kinda weird bein' the one's with normal lookin' kids. Whodathunkit?</p><br /><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh91hSw9riF6i9DgIrUbBpK_NSBvKr6X52tvJS4PGjYy5waAHvFgzFDmUA4RO5Hi5ifTqGoXFdzgA2rsPoCMMUsxv9zvnv3101d-n4vzfSUD1KOE8uX_JAid0KSQNVkyX1cZNTHhZyC9RU0/s1600-h/007.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449010782138052578" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh91hSw9riF6i9DgIrUbBpK_NSBvKr6X52tvJS4PGjYy5waAHvFgzFDmUA4RO5Hi5ifTqGoXFdzgA2rsPoCMMUsxv9zvnv3101d-n4vzfSUD1KOE8uX_JAid0KSQNVkyX1cZNTHhZyC9RU0/s400/007.JPG" /></a></p><p>After about two hours of people watchin' the lights went out...... </p><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449011078204811394" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUCCtJJRmRQw80-UonDm8Qyi8kNKGWfafsKToPrPr_RGFtwVeCC_B4E4Z-c2ykA53tb7W9iz_aAKW-WLZ7AiWR8kyZDRL7Jgc5N2jDqZJvt4iCbFlz1JW3GKctYC3XGV7gNdQdKS93pXXg/s400/003.JPG" /></p><br /><p>....and the awesomness began. </p><br /><p></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnNgyLftp6qkcfd9Q5SXYpJIoycXUacI6r6GlMhusSYRJcazvk8LSWbO8I_51gYHmKiWPniFr3zdrfboJloJARmHCU8grOJlE2u23m1aLUlUWEEl-AQDnl3mQ9QG6HuSVNMYkwbAqlCYr5/s1600-h/015.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449010770940222658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnNgyLftp6qkcfd9Q5SXYpJIoycXUacI6r6GlMhusSYRJcazvk8LSWbO8I_51gYHmKiWPniFr3zdrfboJloJARmHCU8grOJlE2u23m1aLUlUWEEl-AQDnl3mQ9QG6HuSVNMYkwbAqlCYr5/s400/015.JPG" /></a><br /><br />...and within 15 minutes the awesomeness was over and the races began. Not much action there. No awesome crashes and lots of awesome fumes....I think next time, we'll just stick to Monster Trucks.'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857854200624308823.post-57492889873682771992010-03-15T11:13:00.007-04:002010-03-15T12:18:48.893-04:00It's What's Been Happenin'<div>Last week, I was <a href="http://cuzifeltlikeit.blogspot.com/2010/03/its-like-winnin-lottery.html">fairly certain I was gonna lose my job</a>. I was right. </div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448895569432910194" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT1PG4mMcs-L0EG12FFgSMd8kjjrSBy3aOy6WbrQchZJhiM8eUEt4C55NGjVvCRI0JliGWf4ZvSqTSx-ssRatE9jrj3NK1uD842g6yMaMw6Ri-KMpJyi5Gc-teukkeRI_uRnPgwgVo-0Y0/s400/laid+off.jpg" /><br /></div><div></div><div>Mr. Bossman took me into his office, shut the door and that was it. At first all I could could hear were each and every second hand of each and every of the 15 clocks he has in his office tickin' away. It was only a brief moment, but it felt like eons. Then he started sayin' all the words I had been prayin' wouldn't come. You know the sound the adults make on Charlie Brown? Yeah. That's pretty much all I heard. Even though I <strong><em>knew</em></strong> this was coming, all I could think was, "Yep. I'm fucked. After all these years, this is what it comes down to. Awesome." I'm a stability FREAK and this was gonna put a big fat dent in my stability. Dammit. I was and still am officially in panic mode.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>So. That's that. I have approximately six weeks to find a job. So far, I've sent out 51 resumes. <strong><em>51</em></strong>. I've gotten one call back, one email, and two interviews (one of which is this afternoon, which I'm REALLY, REALLY hopin' for) and one place even came across my blog. It was an IT company I sent an email to a company that I would love to work for just for the working environment alone. Little did I know, they would snoop around to see what they could find out about me and would be readin' my blog not even 15 minutes after I had sent them an email. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>I never heard back from them. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>At least now I'm aware of how easy a possible employer could find me on the internet so I was able to change what I thought I had already safeguarded myself against. Ugh.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Now, onto other things. This past weekend as you know was the weekend before St. Patty's Day and because I don't do the whole gettin' shit faced drunk on school nights, I've always looked forward to the weekend before when St. Patty's fell on a weekday. ALWAYS. This year it totally escaped me. We went to Atlanta Saturday night and there were all these drunk asshats stumblin' around wearin' green. I figured there was some big game and the team color was green. Then it hit me. I totally shoulda been one of those drunk asshats stumblin' around wearin' green. How had I missed this?!?!?! Not only was I not drunk and stumblin' around, I really would've rather been at home like usual. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>I hardly drank at all that night (gasp, I know) and I apparently had a sign on me that said, "I generally don't like people, but tonight however I wanna talk to EVERYONE I don't really know, so please come talk to me", because <em>everybody</em> I didn't know wanted to talk to me. My face hurt from tryin' to keep that "I really do give a shit" smile on my face and my neck hurt from all the nodding in agreeance. I just wanted to be at home. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Home, home, home. If I don't find a job soon, I'll be spendin' a lot of time at home....that is until it's foreclosed on because we can't make the payments. Chin's up though. I'm gettin' this job I'm interviewing for today. I know it. Keep your fingers crossed for me!</div>'Cuz I Felt Like It!http://www.blogger.com/profile/06771721228319905882noreply@blogger.com8