<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6084353626264065483</id><updated>2012-01-09T12:06:55.880-08:00</updated><title type='text'>In a Nutshell</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00475338626027007705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>20</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6084353626264065483.post-2408996774300162500</id><published>2011-04-15T18:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-15T19:13:07.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saving You Money</title><content type='html'>Ok. So when I originally changed the title of my blog I had all these grand plans about what I was going to do with it. And then I never did anything at all. The idea was that I was going to save other people time/money/embarrassment by relating my relevant experiences. I also thought vaguely that if I could condense some things down to a paragraph or two that everyone OUGHT to know, but most people don't I could help them save face. Which is why I chose the title. So here goes. If you know me, you know I'm a night owl. I love the peace and quiet after my kids are in bed. Most often I just watch tv whilst my brain turns to mush. After midnight there are a lot of infomercials. I ALWAYS wonder "does it REALLY work like that?" So I figured for those of you out there that wonder too, I could tell you what I know. The Shamwow's efforts at soaking up urine out of carpet are meager at best. The first use was better that after it was washed, but nothing a Bounty paper towel couldn't handle. I cannot in good conscience recommend the Slap Chop either. After "mincing" some garlic with it, I had to do some mincing of my own with a knife. And it still smells like garlic because it is difficult to clean. I was going to throw it away, I was so mad, but I experienced my usual guilt at throwing away something that was still in the strictest meaning of the word usuable, so I put it in one of the 3 crock pots I got for my wedding so it wouldn't take up any extra space and congratulated myself on not cluttering our landfills. I get this from my mother. She won't throw away anything she thinks she can fix. Although she rarely fixes it. This might explain the meat slicer on her kitchen counter. Next, and don't ask me how I know this, but Extenze doesn't do what it says. Although I'm assuming when they say "that certain part of the male anatomy" they mean the Adam's apple. P90X will not make you look like Matthew McConaughey but if you stick with it's strict diet and work out routine, you will eventually get more toned. I do NOT recommend their recovery drink. It's disgusting. Shake Weights are a joke. And a little bit dangerous in the hands of a 3 year old. I will say however, that the Snuggie is exactly what it says it is, a blanket.....with sleeves. I can't vouch for how stylish it is, even the leopard print variety, but it does its job. So there you have it. Feel free to comment on your own experience with infomercial products.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6084353626264065483-2408996774300162500?l=m-mythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2408996774300162500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6084353626264065483&amp;postID=2408996774300162500' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/2408996774300162500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/2408996774300162500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/2011/04/saving-you-money.html' title='Saving You Money'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00475338626027007705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6084353626264065483.post-4628120627259832813</id><published>2010-08-09T20:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-09T20:32:12.927-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No Title</title><content type='html'>Do you know what phrase I hate? "That's easier said than done." EVERYTHING is easier said than done, except perhaps breathing. And the phrase is always used in crazy situations, like if I was planning to break into the Pentagon and steal secret documents someone is bound to say, "You know, that's easier said than done." Of course it is! But it could also be accurately used if I was planning to go for a light jog. Or sit on the couch and watch tv for two hours. Or potty train a 3 year old. I'm going to start using it in everyday situations until people realize what a ridiculous phrase it is. Next time my friend is planning on cooking dinner for her family of four I will say, "that's easier said than done!" Just a little word of encouragement. Or if my sister is planning to take a shower, "Easier said than done." (Which if you know my sister, her showers take some serious planning and time) Or if James is going to remove someone's gall bladder, "That's way easier said than done." What is the point of the words? Are you trying to discourage someone or do think you are making an eye opening revelation? Updating my blog is much easier said than done. I say I am going to do that about every three days. Anyway to sum up everything is easier to talk about doing than to actually do. Unless you are an Ent I guess, then you can use the phrase. Now all my nerd friends are smiling and nodding their heads and all my normal friends are thinking "What? Has Marion lost her mind?" Yes, yes I have. Although I'm not sure I have any normal friends, to be completely honest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6084353626264065483-4628120627259832813?l=m-mythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4628120627259832813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6084353626264065483&amp;postID=4628120627259832813' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/4628120627259832813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/4628120627259832813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/2010/08/no-title.html' title='No Title'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00475338626027007705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6084353626264065483.post-4245241959671204163</id><published>2010-01-03T18:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T18:53:56.242-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Resolutions</title><content type='html'>I decided for one of my New Years resolutions I would finally write a post on my blog.  Check.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6084353626264065483-4245241959671204163?l=m-mythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4245241959671204163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6084353626264065483&amp;postID=4245241959671204163' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/4245241959671204163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/4245241959671204163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/2010/01/resolutions.html' title='Resolutions'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00475338626027007705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6084353626264065483.post-2863513043017749202</id><published>2008-12-30T14:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T14:11:30.648-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I hope you didn't hold  your breath</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/SVqbYpOH7PI/AAAAAAAAAKo/bfBk1tn-gcQ/s1600-h/Joshua%27s+Birth+103.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/SVqbYpOH7PI/AAAAAAAAAKo/bfBk1tn-gcQ/s200/Joshua%27s+Birth+103.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285707960356957426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is little Joshua Michael Boyd, finally.  He was born Nov. 11, 2008 at just after noon.  He weighed 8 lbs 5 oz, my biggest baby.  He was 19 in. long.  I am sorry it took me so long, to post, but he and his siblings have been keeping me pretty busy.  I'm sure most of you have NO sympathy.  After all many of you have 3 or more kids and still manage to update your blogs.  How DO you do it?  I barely took a shower today.  At 3 weeks Josh took his first airplane ride for his aunt Ally's wedding.  That's what he's all dressed up for in this picture.  I'd like to say I'll post more soon, but I can't make any promises.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6084353626264065483-2863513043017749202?l=m-mythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2863513043017749202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6084353626264065483&amp;postID=2863513043017749202' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/2863513043017749202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/2863513043017749202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-hope-you-didnt-hold-your-breath.html' title='I hope you didn&apos;t hold  your breath'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00475338626027007705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/SVqbYpOH7PI/AAAAAAAAAKo/bfBk1tn-gcQ/s72-c/Joshua%27s+Birth+103.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6084353626264065483.post-2899922787961465109</id><published>2008-07-23T22:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T22:48:57.540-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ah the joys of having a bun in the oven</title><content type='html'>Which by the way is a term I've never quite understood.  I get the reference to something is cooking inside you, and believe me it is quite hot, but a bun?  Babies are not bun-like.  It should be "a monkey in the oven" or "a watermelon in the oven".   But who really cooks a watermelon I guess.  So some fun things I would like you all to know and empathize about.  Firstly, at no other point in your life will a complete stranger feel it is appropriate to rub your belly.  This is a truly one of the joys.  I had some one do this in the store in passing, granted it was more of a pat, but I couldn't have been more shocked if the old lady had slapped my butt.  Seriously, can I just get one of those museum signs that says please do not touch.  Secondly, I can no longer get out of bed without swinging my arms and legs over my awkward body and rolling out (the swinging is meant to get the momentum going).  Sometimes I forget my excess bulk when trying to stand up from the couch (or toilet) and I fall back down.  I am only 5 mos pregnant this is going to get worse. Thirdly, I pee my pants more than my 4 yr. old.   Pretty much every time I sneeze.  Fourthly, being intimate with my significant other.  Enough said.  It's awkward, I'll let you use your imagination if you want to(trust me you don't).  Now I'll be the first to admit there are many other joys to being pregnant including the baby at the end, but these are a few of my favorites.  There I updated my blog.  I'm sure you're all thrilled now you can go back to holding your breath for another 2 mos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6084353626264065483-2899922787961465109?l=m-mythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2899922787961465109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6084353626264065483&amp;postID=2899922787961465109' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/2899922787961465109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/2899922787961465109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/2008/07/ah-joys-of-having-bun-in-oven.html' title='Ah the joys of having a bun in the oven'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00475338626027007705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6084353626264065483.post-1411894047379820119</id><published>2008-06-03T21:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T22:06:48.889-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Excuses</title><content type='html'>Now many of you may be thinking there is NO excuse for not blogging for going on 2 months.  Let me offer my meager apologies and present you with my host of&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/SEYahrZdJhI/AAAAAAAAAGw/7qQ7EouzXag/s1600-h/Feb+2008+-May+2008+089.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 186px; height: 124px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/SEYahrZdJhI/AAAAAAAAAGw/7qQ7EouzXag/s200/Feb+2008+-May+2008+089.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207879184988055058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; excuses for my blog silence.  I haven't even looked at other people's so I anticipate a late night tonight.  So first my sister in law, Ally graduated and I flew out to be there, a busy week of graduation activities.  Fun, but busy.  Then my brother Leon safely returned from his tour in Iraq, so I was&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/SEYbHS92cnI/AAAAAAAAAHA/n2biEm24XLk/s1600-h/IMG_0692.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 127px; height: 144px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/SEYbHS92cnI/AAAAAAAAAHA/n2biEm24XLk/s200/IMG_0692.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207879831264850546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;quite excited to see him and stayed a few extra days.  I was maybe not as excited as his wife, but it is good to have him home.  Almost as soon as we got back from our extended stay in Utah, we had a busy week of puppy sitting while getting Abby ready for her first ever dance recital.  If I was savvy enough I would put the video on here but sadly I&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/SEYb3D9bIyI/AAAAAAAAAHI/XbB4A3i89nc/s1600-h/Feb+2008+-May+2008+129.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 112px; height: 169px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/SEYb3D9bIyI/AAAAAAAAAHI/XbB4A3i89nc/s200/Feb+2008+-May+2008+129.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207880651870249762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; have no clue how, so a picture of her doing what she called "becoming a flower"  is the best I can do.   Isn't she sweet?  Even James was able to make it to the recital.  Rest assured if you venture out here for a visit you will be made to watch the video.  Next was my awesome 30th birthday.  My sister,Eva, brother, Leon and best friend,&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/SEYgMKGXVBI/AAAAAAAAAHY/37zbhFjoAYY/s1600-h/Feb+2008+-May+2008+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/SEYgMKGXVBI/AAAAAAAAAHY/37zbhFjoAYY/s200/Feb+2008+-May+2008+007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207885412342125586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Elesa,  drove out to surprise me.  I was very surprised and delighted, but as you can imagine it was a little crazy around here.  This is Elesa and I at the park with our kids as you can tell (maybe) I chopped my hair off, however despite my best efforts, it is not pink, yet.  We are both 30 now and I can honestly say I've known her all 30 of those years.  It was a little windy that day if you can't tell.  So after all that fun, I had Stephen little bug party to plan, Thanks Nicole for letting me steal all your ideas, I don't think there would have been a party without them.  You'll probably think I ruined everything, but I didn't even make&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/SEYhYbAf5DI/AAAAAAAAAHg/O1I7qS7xJbA/s1600-h/Feb+2008+-May+2008+031.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 189px; height: 126px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/SEYhYbAf5DI/AAAAAAAAAHg/O1I7qS7xJbA/s200/Feb+2008+-May+2008+031.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207886722550981682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; invitations ! I know try not to be too shocked.  It turned out cute anyway.  Here is my little bug enjoying his first birthday cake.  As most of you probably know, he eats anything he can get his hands on and cake was no exception, he demolished that cupcake.   Last but not least, perhaps after all my biggest excuse is that during this whirlwind two months I was also surprised (very) to discover that I would look like this again around mid-November. So those are my&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/SEYimIMTB1I/AAAAAAAAAH4/9UkPQ9kw1T4/s1600-h/IMG_0402.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/SEYimIMTB1I/AAAAAAAAAH4/9UkPQ9kw1T4/s200/IMG_0402.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207888057529993042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;reasons.  I mean excuses.  You can take them or leave them.  Well you pretty much have to take them because I'm the one in charge here.  That's right accept my excuses and like it! I'm going to start wearing the pants around here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6084353626264065483-1411894047379820119?l=m-mythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/1411894047379820119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6084353626264065483&amp;postID=1411894047379820119' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/1411894047379820119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/1411894047379820119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/2008/06/excuses.html' title='Excuses'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00475338626027007705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/SEYahrZdJhI/AAAAAAAAAGw/7qQ7EouzXag/s72-c/Feb+2008+-May+2008+089.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6084353626264065483.post-2900328217123214487</id><published>2008-04-09T12:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T13:11:02.627-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Are you a Blog Addict?</title><content type='html'>Do you find yourself linking from blog to blog reading one after another, spending hours coming up with pithy comments and losing precious time while doing so?  Maybe looking for a giggle or two or a tidbit of knowledge.  I have a few friends I believe to be blog addicts.  I also believe there are those out there who are blog users.  Now this is a much more serious offense.  Blog users will visit your blog, laugh at your admittedly clever and witty publications, and then move on.  The crime here is that they don't let you know how funny and clever you are by leaving a comment, or responding to a tag.  They visit your site, have a good chuckle and leave you empty handed.  They are effectively using you for your blog.  These invisible offenders leave no trace of their crime so they are very difficult to detect.  I have found the only way to do so is to bait suspected offenders in actual conversation with a question they could only know if they had been reading my blog. Like "I don't even think hijinks is a word is it?  Or "Do you know the approximate population of Monaco?"  Only by these wise and ingenious devices can I discover which of my supposed friends are reading my blog but not leaving a comment.  I (and I'm not trying to adopt a holier-than-thou attitude here) almost always leave at least one comment to show people that their hard work on their blog is appreciated.  And even if I don't think their entry was clever enough to leave a witty comment, I at least say "hey, how are you?"  or "cute picture" at least something.  Don't worry, I'm expecting most of my comments on this post to be "hey, how are you?"  I didn't post a picture, so you can't fall back on that one you vile blog users.  Take that!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6084353626264065483-2900328217123214487?l=m-mythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2900328217123214487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6084353626264065483&amp;postID=2900328217123214487' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/2900328217123214487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/2900328217123214487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/2008/04/are-you-blog-addict.html' title='Are you a Blog Addict?'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00475338626027007705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6084353626264065483.post-1577070813543744604</id><published>2008-03-22T00:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T00:34:20.559-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Favorites</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/food/ck_bk_chocolate"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://www.foodnetwork.com/food/ck_bk_chocolate" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was tagged to list my favorite websites quite a while ago.  I suppose I've been 'it' for a while, but I was really embarrassed at how boring my list is.  But here goes.&lt;br /&gt;1.  I LOVE to read through recipes, I frequent cooks.com and foodnetwork.com&lt;br /&gt;2. Sometimes I just type things into Google because I'm too lazy to put in the whole web address, so I Google everything, even if it is Gap.com.  I'm sure Google appreciates my business, but I like almost everything Google. &lt;br /&gt;3. I could spend hours on Yahoo!Games.  My favorites are Text Twist and Cubis.  I'm such a nerd.&lt;br /&gt;4. I like to do internet window shopping I don't buy anything, I just see what's available and dream, my favorites are ikea.com, pbk.com, landofnod.com, and crateandbarrel.com.  As you can tell I mostly fantasize about purchasing furniture although I'm not going to lie target.com is where I spend the most time because I feel like someday those dreams might actually become a reality. &lt;br /&gt;So there you have it, my pretty boring list.  I'll tag anyone who wants to get caught. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/JAMESB%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-1.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/JAMESB%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6084353626264065483-1577070813543744604?l=m-mythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/1577070813543744604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6084353626264065483&amp;postID=1577070813543744604' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/1577070813543744604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/1577070813543744604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/2008/03/favorites.html' title='Favorites'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00475338626027007705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6084353626264065483.post-6525763015793019354</id><published>2008-03-02T19:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T20:04:27.982-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Guitar Hero</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R8t374nmyOI/AAAAAAAAAGg/3tZmlHWE4qM/s1600-h/Feb+08+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R8t374nmyOI/AAAAAAAAAGg/3tZmlHWE4qM/s200/Feb+08+001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173360467659639010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Those of you that know me well know that if there is one thing that I don't know anything about, it's music, although I sing and play the piano the appeal of pop and rock music completely escapes me. I like music and I like to listen to it but don't follow any bands and I'll listen to the same cd in my car until my husband changes it&lt;br /&gt;because I just don't care.  You probably also know that I love games and I'm a little competitive.  Which is why it must be funny to watch me play Guitar Hero and Rock Band.  I love to do it because its a game, unfortunately I'm completely hopeless at it while still insisting I can beat you.  Recently I stayed up until 4 in the morning trying to beat a song on Guitar Hero entitled&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R8t38InmyPI/AAAAAAAAAGo/NOg1lK9sM0A/s1600-h/Feb+08+015-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R8t38InmyPI/AAAAAAAAAGo/NOg1lK9sM0A/s200/Feb+08+015-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173360471954606322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; "Raining Blood".  I still do not know who sings it, but I did eventually pass it.  The very title clashes with my personality but there I was listening to it over and over again so I could win.  So I could finally stand there triumphant with my guitar over one shoulder, a fist in the air and yell "I rock!" Then dance wildly about my living room.  Suddenly I remember.  I'm 29.  My blinds are open.  What would the neighbors think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6084353626264065483-6525763015793019354?l=m-mythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/6525763015793019354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6084353626264065483&amp;postID=6525763015793019354' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/6525763015793019354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/6525763015793019354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/2008/03/guitar-hero.html' title='Guitar Hero'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00475338626027007705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R8t374nmyOI/AAAAAAAAAGg/3tZmlHWE4qM/s72-c/Feb+08+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6084353626264065483.post-522224095445679725</id><published>2008-02-22T22:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T23:38:44.085-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Pictures of Little Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_MJt5dnsI/AAAAAAAAAGM/5d3fFOEXsyc/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_MJt5dnsI/AAAAAAAAAGM/5d3fFOEXsyc/s200/DSCN0840.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170075364556119746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                     &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;You couldn't po&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;ss&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;ibly mean &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;this picture&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;could you Elesa?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;  It is a pricele&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;ss &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;tr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;easure. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I'll have you know that I crept into&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; my sleeping babe's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; room in the middle of the night to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; retrieve it for your benefit.  Once &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I had accomplished this task  I returned downstairs only to find that I no longer have a scanner attached to my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;computer.  However, evil genius that I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; am, I used my digital camera to take pictures of my old ones so I could directly load them onto my compu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;ter.  Ha! thwarted again Dell! I will ne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;ver pay the extr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;a money for a printer with a scanner, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;after all what would I possibly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;need th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;at&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; for&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;?  Sadly however my genius is not sufficient to enabl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; me t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;o figur&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;e o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;ut&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; how to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; turn OFF the underlining.  In case you wondered.  I thought perhaps it would&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; be appropriate to include some other pictures of me when I was knee hi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;gh to a grasshopper.  If anyone is concerned that I was an unhappy child do not worry, I always pretended to be sad because I LOVED the attention of people trying to make me smile.  Doesn't sound like me does it?   As you can see Abby has quite a different method o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;f getting attention. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;The picture of me in the pink&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; dress has always been m&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_EBN5dnkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pJIG1ApJ_MI/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;y favorite, that was my favorite dress too.  Abby and I do not really look alike do we?  Hmm who does she look like?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_JP95dnlI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qN4sVeaxzS4/s1600-h/DSCN0841.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 118px; height: 133px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_JP95dnlI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qN4sVeaxzS4/s200/DSCN0841.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170072173395418706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_Jud5dnrI/AAAAAAAAAGE/us45d2guwlk/s1600-h/IMG_0440.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 204px; height: 133px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_Jud5dnrI/AAAAAAAAAGE/us45d2guwlk/s200/IMG_0440.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170072697381428914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_JQN5dnoI/AAAAAAAAAFs/xAT1HXwRU80/s1600-h/IMG_0898.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 187px; height: 133px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_JQN5dnoI/AAAAAAAAAFs/xAT1HXwRU80/s200/IMG_0898.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170072177690386050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_JQN5dnnI/AAAAAAAAAFk/Q11quo6UQPg/s1600-h/DSCN0843.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 114px; height: 133px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_JQN5dnnI/AAAAAAAAAFk/Q11quo6UQPg/s200/DSCN0843.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170072177690386034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_Jt95dnqI/AAAAAAAAAF8/Hd9fq7cGt8w/s1600-h/IMG_0753.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 187px; height: 133px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_Jt95dnqI/AAAAAAAAAF8/Hd9fq7cGt8w/s200/IMG_0753.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170072688791494306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_JP95dnmI/AAAAAAAAAFc/m9KCI5WnYt0/s1600-h/DSCN0842.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 166px; height: 133px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_JP95dnmI/AAAAAAAAAFc/m9KCI5WnYt0/s200/DSCN0842.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170072173395418722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_JQd5dnpI/AAAAAAAAAF0/kl9nKKqvp5Q/s1600-h/IMG_0276.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 191px; height: 132px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_JQd5dnpI/AAAAAAAAAF0/kl9nKKqvp5Q/s200/IMG_0276.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170072181985353362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6084353626264065483-522224095445679725?l=m-mythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/522224095445679725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6084353626264065483&amp;postID=522224095445679725' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/522224095445679725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/522224095445679725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/2008/02/some-pictures-of-little-me.html' title='Some Pictures of Little Me'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00475338626027007705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R7_MJt5dnsI/AAAAAAAAAGM/5d3fFOEXsyc/s72-c/DSCN0840.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6084353626264065483.post-3433663651287539407</id><published>2008-02-21T15:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T15:30:56.684-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Skiing</title><content type='html'>After being put on Elesa's list of blogs she checks without hope of seeing a new post, I've made a goal to post more often just to prove her wrong.  Although she's right, I've had one new post in 3 mos.  But that will ALL change,  if only so Elesa has something to read on the internet.  So last week I went skiing for the third time in my life.  Although I grew up among the greatest snow on earth I didn't ski much. The first time I went with my college boyfriend I'm sure he thought it was hilariously funny when I fell off the lift (right after take off so I didn't die or anything) (Obviously) and got clotheslined by a tree branch and ran over a little girl (admittedly a better skier than me although 15 years younger than me at the time).  So thanks Boone for the memorable,  if disastrous, experience, it taught me nothing.   Except maybe to duck.  My 2nd trip I took ski lessons, instructive but uneventful.  This time I went out on the regular runs with my loving husband.  Who had a good laugh when I slid face first down the mountainside about 50 feet.  Right before I'd been bragging about how good I was getting.  After a series of tumbles I finally felt I was getting the hang of it, here's my photographic evidence, I actually got some air in one of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R74JR95dnhI/AAAAAAAAAE0/n7NSu52FL2g/s1600-h/DSCN0815.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R74JR95dnhI/AAAAAAAAAE0/n7NSu52FL2g/s200/DSCN0815.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169579626545913362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R74Hsd5dngI/AAAAAAAAAEs/baWqv1g4rJs/s1600-h/DSCN0823.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R74Hsd5dngI/AAAAAAAAAEs/baWqv1g4rJs/s200/DSCN0823.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169577882789191170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R74Jh95dniI/AAAAAAAAAE8/aY5Kgi5N7tM/s1600-h/DSCN0825.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R74Jh95dniI/AAAAAAAAAE8/aY5Kgi5N7tM/s200/DSCN0825.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169579901423820322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6084353626264065483-3433663651287539407?l=m-mythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/3433663651287539407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6084353626264065483&amp;postID=3433663651287539407' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/3433663651287539407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/3433663651287539407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/2008/02/skiing.html' title='Skiing'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00475338626027007705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R74JR95dnhI/AAAAAAAAAE0/n7NSu52FL2g/s72-c/DSCN0815.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6084353626264065483.post-1951324303404689339</id><published>2008-01-19T20:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-26T14:47:29.431-08:00</updated><title type='text'>6 little known facts about James</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R5LQcJpFehI/AAAAAAAAAEk/vp_2D5fVeZU/s1600-h/IMG_0893.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157413705335798290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R5LQcJpFehI/AAAAAAAAAEk/vp_2D5fVeZU/s200/IMG_0893.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A lot of my friends know Jimmy better than they know me. So I tried very hard to come up with things most people would not know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. His absolute favorite cookies are hershey's heath bar cookies.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. He scored over 250,000 on one song on Guitar Hero (on medium). He also played one perfect song with a 550 note streak.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. He likes names that start with A and J (he picked Abby's name)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. He can't grow facial hair around his mouth b/c he sunburned his face too much when he was a kid.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. He picked up his wife over a microscope (nerdy eh?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. He admitted to tearing up once over extreme makeover home edition, although I was not there to witness it. That supposed report is the only evidence I have that his lacrimal duct functions at all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks Nicole for tagging me. Hopefully you learned something new.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6084353626264065483-1951324303404689339?l=m-mythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/1951324303404689339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6084353626264065483&amp;postID=1951324303404689339' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/1951324303404689339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/1951324303404689339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/2008/01/6-little-know-facts-about-james.html' title='6 little known facts about James'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00475338626027007705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R5LQcJpFehI/AAAAAAAAAEk/vp_2D5fVeZU/s72-c/IMG_0893.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6084353626264065483.post-2313763454179025948</id><published>2008-01-17T14:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T15:05:45.409-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This is Long Overdue</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R4_eLppFedI/AAAAAAAAAEE/cYLLo_ygNYk/s1600-h/IMG_0911.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156584390100613586" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R4_eLppFedI/AAAAAAAAAEE/cYLLo_ygNYk/s200/IMG_0911.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So I guess I need to update this blog. We DID have Christmas and New Years and all. So I hope when I grow up I can Christmas shop like Steve Boyd. If ever there is something impossible to get or simply unfindable, he will find it. He got me a Wii for Christmas and I must say that I blame my recent &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R4_eWZpFefI/AAAAAAAAAEU/nTwUyzIMo98/s1600-h/IMG_0949.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156584574784207346" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R4_eWZpFefI/AAAAAAAAAEU/nTwUyzIMo98/s200/IMG_0949.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;blog inactivity on the amount of time I've spent boxing and playing Mario Galaxy. Yes I am a gamer. I know it's a bit unusual for a 2o something year old mother of 2, which is why I do it between 12 and 3 am. Exactly the time of day when I used to blog. So sorry friends, until I develop Wii tennis elbow, you may hear a little less from me.  Fortunately I have to fight Abby to play it the rest of the time. She got a princess game. I will try to be better. James got Guitar Hero (also a spectacular find by Steve) and everytime Abby sees him playing it &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R4_eLppFeeI/AAAAAAAAAEM/F6x21l_ADts/s1600-h/IMG_0939.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156584390100613602" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R4_eLppFeeI/AAAAAAAAAEM/F6x21l_ADts/s200/IMG_0939.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;she comes and tells me that Daddy is busy rocking out and can I get her a drink? I cannot rock out. We did have a fantastic Christmas and New Years. I resolved to budget better and not eats sweets. Try not to laugh when you read those I'm nearly a week and a half sweet-free and going strong. So for about 4 mos. I've been struggling to drop those last 5 bably lbs. and in the last week and a half &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R4_eW5pFegI/AAAAAAAAAEc/N3pxY5WAF1M/s1600-h/IMG_0924.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156584583374141954" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R4_eW5pFegI/AAAAAAAAAEc/N3pxY5WAF1M/s200/IMG_0924.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I've lost 2 so it hasn't been entirely a waste of time. The budgeting thing is going less well, but I still feel I'm making progress. Here's some pictures. Abby and I after wrapping presents on Christmas Eve. Abs on the stairs Christmas morning. Stephen eating a ribbon.  Some baby behinds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6084353626264065483-2313763454179025948?l=m-mythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2313763454179025948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6084353626264065483&amp;postID=2313763454179025948' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/2313763454179025948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/2313763454179025948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/2008/01/this-is-long-overdue.html' title='This is Long Overdue'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00475338626027007705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/R4_eLppFedI/AAAAAAAAAEE/cYLLo_ygNYk/s72-c/IMG_0911.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6084353626264065483.post-1853219808320146795</id><published>2007-11-27T22:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T22:52:27.194-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ah Salespeople</title><content type='html'>I've recently read several posts about salespeople so I thought I'd add my two cents. They are pretty much worthless. I've had two experiences worth mentioning. First you should know that I live in a pretty new neighborhood so there are always people knocking on my door. It took me several weeks to learn not to answer the door. Slow I know, I just thought it would be some well wishing neighbor welcoming to the neighborhood instead I got "Hello, you look like you could use the Sports package from comcast!" Seriously? That's your best salespitch? Get off my porch. So there was one guy who was selling pest control. I open the door. He says "Hi I'm here from Insecticide." Long pause. Scans my porch. "Do you get any bugs around here?" Quite the sales man. Shoo. The worst was last summer I was getting ready to go to the airport, my bags were packed and I was doing some last min. dishes waiting for my father in law to pick me up. Those of you who know my father in law will have some inkling as to the unfortunate salesman's eventual demise.  So I was washing my dishes when the doorbell rings.  Assuming it's my ride, I tell Abby it's her Grandpa and to go open the door, while I dry my hands.  Abs says, "Hi, come on in."  What infuriates me is the guy did.  On the say so of a two year old.  It's just me and my kid at home.  Then before I get a word out of my mouth he tries to sell me a vacuum, which he claims is worth $2000.  A Kirby vac.  I tell him I'm on my way to the airport and don't have the time.  By this time he has fully assembled a vacuum in my front hall.  Lightening speed I tell you.  Then he begins vacuuming.  All you salesmen out there a word of advice.  Don't come in a house where there is only one woman at home.  Don't try to make a sale while someone is leaving for the airport.  He also invites his partner in.  Creepy.  By this time I'm very frustrated and nervous and I just want them to leave.  And it shows.  Fortunately for me this is about when Steve shows up.  Unfortunately for them.  They also make the poor decision of trying to sell him a vacuum.  To make a long story short he tosses them out on their rears.  The other sales guy worth mentioning is my favorite.  He was selling magazines to earn money for his college education.  After explaining this he asks me "so is your Mom here?"  With a perfectly straight face I say, "no sorry, she's out of town."  And close the door.  Sorry this is so long, but you're the one who's reading it.  Hope you enjoy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6084353626264065483-1853219808320146795?l=m-mythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/1853219808320146795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6084353626264065483&amp;postID=1853219808320146795' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/1853219808320146795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/1853219808320146795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/2007/11/ah-salespeople.html' title='Ah Salespeople'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00475338626027007705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6084353626264065483.post-6577788237936093441</id><published>2007-11-05T20:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T20:39:13.626-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I guess I deserve it</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/Ry_u00N4YjI/AAAAAAAAACU/jK5G3km7xPU/s1600-h/IMG_0858.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/Ry_u00N4YjI/AAAAAAAAACU/jK5G3km7xPU/s320/IMG_0858.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129581091735757362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is a picture of my three year old right after she'd stolen my nintendo DS.  She's trying to act casual so I won't notice.  She actually turned it on and started playing a game.  The funniest thing is that she thinks that she's hidden in this chair and I'm not going to see her.  Silly Abby, moms can see thru chairs.  Also, you have to press B to make Mario swim.  Can't believe she didn't know that.  I guess it won't be long before she figures it all out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6084353626264065483-6577788237936093441?l=m-mythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/6577788237936093441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6084353626264065483&amp;postID=6577788237936093441' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/6577788237936093441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/6577788237936093441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-guess-i-deserve-it.html' title='I guess I deserve it'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00475338626027007705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/Ry_u00N4YjI/AAAAAAAAACU/jK5G3km7xPU/s72-c/IMG_0858.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6084353626264065483.post-1179438776154305876</id><published>2007-10-24T17:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T17:37:22.961-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm It</title><content type='html'>I guess I got tagged I'm supposed to list six interesting things about myself.  Which may be difficult, as most of you know I'm fairly boring.  Mundane really.  And most of these will be things you're already aware of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  In secret, when my children and husband are sleeping I use my laser level to assure myself that the pictures in my house are straight.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;B.  My favorite food is cereal and I have had it for breakfast, lunch and dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also.  I own 6 watches which I never wear.  Consequently I'm always asking what time it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  I can touch the tip of my nose with my tongue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E.  I have made James tuck me in so my sheets &amp; pj bottoms can be straight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  Unlike Elesa I CAN count to six.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus.  Unfortunately for all of you I'm really full of myself.  In fact I could talk about glorious me all night and day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  I have been parasailing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, I use washcloths in my kitchen once before I have to launder them again, I'm extremely paranoid of stinky rags.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J.  I am very bad at guessing how long it will take me to get somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again.  No matter how organized and picked up it is I do not feel like my house is clean unless the floors are vacuumed, swept and/or mopped.  Conversly even if everything else is completely disorderly cleaning my floors makes me feel as if my whole house is pretty much spotless. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you still reading this?  I figured I'd give you a few things about myself and let you pick which ones were interesting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6084353626264065483-1179438776154305876?l=m-mythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/1179438776154305876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6084353626264065483&amp;postID=1179438776154305876' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/1179438776154305876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/1179438776154305876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/2007/10/im-it.html' title='I&apos;m It'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00475338626027007705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6084353626264065483.post-7270961332972181043</id><published>2007-10-23T13:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T14:03:17.589-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What's up?</title><content type='html'>So what's the deal with receipts. It seems like everywhere I go I'm inundated with paper proof that I purchased something. Like receipts at the gas station. When am I ever going to need to use that receipt? Can you return gasoline if it isn't up to par? I did so fill up my car, look, here's the receipt. Or for instance today I got a diet coke at McDonalds. $1.53. I gave them exactly one dollar fifty three cents, they gave me one medium diet Coke. And a receipt. About a mile long that explained how I might be able to win monopoly if I purchased 2,079 more diet Cokes between now and Nov. 1. A likely scenario. Void where prohibited. Where exactly do they prohibit the purchase of a diet Coke. Because I know for sure I NEVER want to live there. After receiving these nearly meaningless pieces of paper I invariably shove them in some little known pocket of my purse, already a study in disorder, this small wrinkly crinkly addition does nothing to improve affairs. About once every quarter I sit down to clean out my purse. Most often I remove about 3.57 tons of receipts. Approximately one quarter of a rainforest. And a few foil gum wrappers. Even if I wanted to return my diet Coke, how would I ever find the receipt after it disappeared into the abyss that is my purse?  I think about 85% of the disorder of the universe can be attributed to receipts.  Somehow in todays society we have managed to nearly do away with the need for an individual to carry around any paper money at all.  They just slide their neat little plastic cards through some magic machine and presto, no need for money.  Why can they not invent a similar machine and card for all receipts.  I'd like to return this donut.  Well of course I have the receipt.  You whip out your plastic proof of purchase card slide it through a magic machine and bingo the record of your pastry purchase appears and you can safely return your donut for one that does not have a hair baked into it.  Why all the mess?  I of course would invent this gizmo if I had an inkling of how to do it, unfortunately it is far beyond my skills.  Somehow we did not cover that in Microbiology.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6084353626264065483-7270961332972181043?l=m-mythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/7270961332972181043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6084353626264065483&amp;postID=7270961332972181043' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/7270961332972181043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/7270961332972181043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/2007/10/whats-up.html' title='What&apos;s up?'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00475338626027007705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6084353626264065483.post-754695738797820860</id><published>2007-10-21T17:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T17:42:52.353-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stevie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/RxvxbrGqe4I/AAAAAAAAABg/gfDYO__OjM0/s1600-h/IMG_0789.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123954458793507714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/RxvxbrGqe4I/AAAAAAAAABg/gfDYO__OjM0/s320/IMG_0789.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I suppose I should have a few pictures of Stephen on my blog. I wouldn't want anyone to think I'd forgotten him, because he sure is the greatest little boy ever. Here's a few examples of why he's so spectacular.   1. He smiles all the time for anyone  2.  As long as he has a thumb, he's content  3.  He's a great listener  4.  Uh, he's also just cute.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6084353626264065483-754695738797820860?l=m-mythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/754695738797820860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6084353626264065483&amp;postID=754695738797820860' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/754695738797820860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/754695738797820860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/2007/10/stevie.html' title='Stevie'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00475338626027007705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/RxvxbrGqe4I/AAAAAAAAABg/gfDYO__OjM0/s72-c/IMG_0789.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6084353626264065483.post-7928349275328257661</id><published>2007-10-19T23:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-20T00:03:13.209-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/RxmnqbGqe3I/AAAAAAAAABY/XgRAAo8SSYM/s1600-h/IMG_0822.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123310398382701426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/RxmnqbGqe3I/AAAAAAAAABY/XgRAAo8SSYM/s320/IMG_0822.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I took some pictures of Abs the other day to demonstrate my skill as a photographer,  here she is staring thoughtfully out the window at the audacious rabbit who digs up my flower bulbs and eats them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6084353626264065483-7928349275328257661?l=m-mythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/7928349275328257661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6084353626264065483&amp;postID=7928349275328257661' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/7928349275328257661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/7928349275328257661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-took-some-pictures-of-abs-other-day.html' title=''/><author><name>J &amp;amp; M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00475338626027007705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K7sRLblkKuE/RxmnqbGqe3I/AAAAAAAAABY/XgRAAo8SSYM/s72-c/IMG_0822.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6084353626264065483.post-3406763377676024079</id><published>2007-10-19T23:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T23:47:16.310-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First Try</title><content type='html'>It's the middle of the night and I'm trying to get this started.  As it happens James is out of town and I can't sleep and I'm too lazy to put my Sims disk in the drive so I'm stuck blogging, or trying to.  So today Abs wanted to watch a movie and I said no and she said why and I said because I'm the boss.  She said no I'm the boss.  And I said okay boss turn on a movie for yourself.  A few minutes later she comes to me with the remote and says Boss can I please watch a movie.  Boy did I show her.  Wait until she learns to use the remote, then I'm in trouble.    I'd like to be silly or at least say or do something silly, but I am way too tired to be clever.  I'm at the state of tiredness where I think I'm clever and funny, but normal people would disagree, so I'll try to keep it interesting.  I'd tell you what I did today but mostly I spent an embarrasing amount of time playing Command and Conquer.  When you can nurse and play computer games it's time to stop.  Playing games that is.  Okay that's enough for one day right?  Don't even know who I'm asking.  The internet gods?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6084353626264065483-3406763377676024079?l=m-mythoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/3406763377676024079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6084353626264065483&amp;postID=3406763377676024079' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/3406763377676024079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6084353626264065483/posts/default/3406763377676024079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://m-mythoughts.blogspot.com/2007/10/first-try.html' title='First Try'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00475338626027007705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
