<?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-6138413451446847639</id><updated>2012-02-16T02:08:16.538-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Delicious Ambiguity</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>135</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-87592414064101794</id><published>2009-11-03T06:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T06:36:03.375-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry for so many posts</title><content type='html'>I'm sick. Stuffy, sniffly, coughy, grossness. And I have to stay home from work. No, I don't think I have the swine flu, but people in my office seem freaked out about it and I work with someone who just got finished with chemo, so to keep from compromising everyone else's health, I stayed home today and yesterday. And I'm BORED. So I decided to post a lot. a LOT. Because there's not much else I can do other than lay on the couch watching True Life and Tyra. And now I feel like I'm having a conversation. I always want a day off until I have to stay home. And I WANT to go back to work. BORED!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-87592414064101794?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/87592414064101794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=87592414064101794&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/87592414064101794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/87592414064101794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/11/sorry-for-so-many-posts.html' title='Sorry for so many posts'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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-6138413451446847639.post-2917788973081488656</id><published>2009-11-03T06:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T06:28:24.326-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I apologize...</title><content type='html'>...For the Georgia post earlier this year. The Dawgs... well... this year, just aren't so great. I'm still a fan, but I think maybe for the rest of this year I'm going to stop dressing in red and black from head to toe Friday through Saturday every weekend until Christmas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-2917788973081488656?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/2917788973081488656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=2917788973081488656&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/2917788973081488656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/2917788973081488656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-apologize.html' title='I apologize...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-8897382816848521194</id><published>2009-11-03T05:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T06:25:51.430-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One year!</title><content type='html'>Obviously I'm a little late on this, but a few weeks ago, Ray and I hit the big #1. First anniversary. I have to admit, it was a little anticlimatic since we dated for 7 years (why celebrate such a short time when we've already made it past the 7-year itch?), but a good day nonetheless. We decided before our wedding that we wouldn't give each other presents (didn't for our wedding either), but instead spend that money on doing something we've never done/really like to do. So this year was for me... we went rock climbing! I'm seriously thinking about picking this up as a hobby, so it was awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, after one year, I'm &lt;em&gt;obviously&lt;/em&gt; wise enough to impart some marital wisdom into your lives. So here are a few observations I've made:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. When we got married, people told us the first year is the hardest. At one year, people told us the honeymoon is over. If the hardest year of your marriage is the honeymoon, I can't wait to deal with the rest of life's problems. I don't feel like this year was a cakewalk, but I also don't think we dealt with a honeymoon phase since we've been together so long. So don't put stock in either of these sayings, please.  It's not worth it and it just depends on how you want to view things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I'm convinced that people who get divorced within a year really didn't talk AT ALL before their marriage. EVERY argument we've had boils down to a basic issue we talked about a million times before. That being said, talk, compromise. Talk, compromise. Talk some more, and then compromise one more time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Budget. A lot.  Every penny. And budget in some savings and tithe. Thanks to Ray, we're working on a budget influenced by about half Dave Ramsey, half Clark Howard. And both people need to know what's going on with the finances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Decorate wherever you live immediately, or it really never will get done. I still have unfilled picture frames lined up underneath our bar and we have ONE curtain hung over a window on our back door. One. And that was just to replace paper towels that were taped over it for about two months. (The towels said "Home Sweet Home"... we kind of missed them for a few weeks.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Work out a system and stick to it. I do laundry, Ray does dishes. Ray kills bugs, and I'll take care of any reptiles if they ever manage to sneak into the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Get a calendar to keep track of the other's schedule and create a list of important dates. Well, that's probably good to have for anyone. If I forgot your birthday this year, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you feel more prepared for marriage? :) I should be a counselor ir something.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-8897382816848521194?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/8897382816848521194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=8897382816848521194&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8897382816848521194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8897382816848521194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/11/one-year.html' title='One year!'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-3264960522391315040</id><published>2009-11-03T05:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T05:55:01.377-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>10 POUNDS! I finally hit it! Obviously I've had some ups and downs--well, mostly ups, since it took me this long to lose 10 pounds. But with a vacation and lots going on in the past few months, I'll take it. AND... I'm down a size! Woohoo! That's all for now. Yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-3264960522391315040?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/3264960522391315040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=3264960522391315040&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3264960522391315040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3264960522391315040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/11/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-4174616198592631657</id><published>2009-09-05T11:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T11:47:21.089-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday! Saturday! Saturday!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SqKwtRRogZI/AAAAAAAAAG4/6o-5S_l4FX0/s1600-h/ugaLogo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378055196811755922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 252px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SqKwtRRogZI/AAAAAAAAAG4/6o-5S_l4FX0/s400/ugaLogo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Glory, glory to old GEORgia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Glory, glory to old Georgia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Glory, glory to old GEORgia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and to HELL WITH OK STATE!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Gooo&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;ooooooOOOOOOO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;OOOOOOOO DAWGS!!! Sic' em!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mmm. I love football season. I've been humming our alma mater/cheesy song from the end of Dirty Dancing all week. And I really miss being there for the beginning of  the games, hearing the same songs (I can feel it comin' in the air tonight... hold o-on), calling the Dawgs, watching the history highlight reel while Larry Munson growls out UGA's praises... Go Dawgs! I'm with you in spirit!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-4174616198592631657?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/4174616198592631657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=4174616198592631657&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/4174616198592631657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/4174616198592631657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/09/saturday-saturday-saturday.html' title='Saturday! Saturday! Saturday!'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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/_3w4CVafvQfk/SqKwtRRogZI/AAAAAAAAAG4/6o-5S_l4FX0/s72-c/ugaLogo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-2344957722942041105</id><published>2009-08-27T18:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T18:18:01.301-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cute?</title><content type='html'>This absolutely made my day. I have no words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos.tmz.com/galleries/poodle_pictures"&gt;http://photos.tmz.com/galleries/poodle_pictures&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-2344957722942041105?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/2344957722942041105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=2344957722942041105&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/2344957722942041105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/2344957722942041105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/08/cute.html' title='Cute?'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-4428401970088148335</id><published>2009-08-03T18:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T18:42:18.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whimper...</title><content type='html'>I don't know if I've explained my love for animals to you yet. I might have. I've posted pics of a koala, so I probably have. I cry at ASPCA commercials. And the new Dawn commercials that have oil-soaked baby ducks. Needless to say, I'm willing to take in any mammal that comes my way. So when Ray and I drove by our house to go to the mailbox tonight and saw a cat in the bushes, I got &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; excited. And when it was &lt;em&gt;still&lt;/em&gt; in the bushes when we got back, I went into stealth mode to try to get it to come to me (because I'm convinced that every animal will like you if you show a little affection--rabies or disease don't really come to mind...). But it snuck up behind me! She started rolling around in the driveway, being all cute... And Ray actually uttered, "If you can play with it and NOT sneeze, we can keep it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;WHAT?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, as much as I love animals, I'm that allergic to most of them. So this was a BIG deal. So of COURSE I played with her for a little while. I thought I might have had him... this cat had a big scar (fairly fresh on her shoulder)... I sang a little Sarah McLachland (sp?)--no, I really did (I could rock one of those commercials), cat jumped in his lap, but eventually I had to come inside. So we waited with baited breath to see what would happen. And what did I do ten whole minutes after this wonderful creature came into my life? I SNEEZED. And it ruined the &lt;em&gt;whole&lt;/em&gt; thing. No more cat for Anna. Because of &lt;em&gt;one&lt;/em&gt; sneeze. And now a poor, hungry, lovable kitty is waiting &lt;em&gt;on my front porch&lt;/em&gt; for someone to save it from its hard life in the streets because something in my body hates animal dander. It's some cruel trick, I tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harumph.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-4428401970088148335?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/4428401970088148335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=4428401970088148335&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/4428401970088148335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/4428401970088148335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/08/whimper.html' title='Whimper...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-5496654318972520503</id><published>2009-07-29T18:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T18:42:59.045-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Accountability?</title><content type='html'>As a follow-up to my last post/vent, I said a few times that I weigh as much as a contestant on a "big" reality show. Slightly more, in fact. BUT! That's changing. I started trying to lose wight when I stepped on a scale in January and weighed &lt;strong&gt;30 POUNDS&lt;/strong&gt; more than when I graduated high school. And since I lost weight my freshman year at college, I gained &lt;strong&gt;35 POUNDS&lt;/strong&gt;. So I got my rear into gear. Since I know myself and I tend to give up when I get discouraged, I realized that this should be a lifestyle change. So Ray and I joined a gym, and I tried to make working out a habit. Now it is, so I'm trying to eat less and make &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; a habit. Once I'm used to that, I can start eating more healthy. And so far, I've lost 7 pounds in about 2 months! And I'm fitting into clothes that were tight when I got married! To keep me on the right track and since I've vented about overweight people), I feel like it's time to let you in on my journey. Now, I'm not ready to let you in on my "number", but we'll see about later. We'll talk again when  I hit 10.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-5496654318972520503?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/5496654318972520503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=5496654318972520503&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/5496654318972520503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/5496654318972520503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/07/accountability.html' title='Accountability?'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-6699489905323234988</id><published>2009-07-29T18:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T18:32:45.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, reality tv...</title><content type='html'>I'm sure you've heard of the show "More to Love" on Fox. I'd heard of it, didn't want to watch it. I'm just not into reality dating shows (now, any other reality tv...). But when I heard people bashing it this morning on the radio I looked into it a little more. And here are my thoughts:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Some of those girls are still lying about their weight. I weigh as much as a contestant on the show and she is a good three sizes larger than me (and not much taller). Sorry, there's just no way.&lt;br /&gt;-Since when did the word curvy become a substitution for fat? Curvy means boobs and hips, not rolls and muffin tops. Just because the average size of women in America is a 14-16 doesn't mean that's healthy. There's a point where you have to see yourself from a health perspective and not size and get your butt in shape. Don't worry, I'm yelling at myself too, remember, I weigh as much as a contestant. I know most women will never be size 2, but you can at least be the healthiest size you can be.&lt;br /&gt;-I don't think the viewers are going to like what they see and I don't think the guy is as open minded as he seems. He kicked off the four heaviest women in the first episode.&lt;br /&gt;-People thought this show would be about normal people. If it weren't trying to exploit women's sizes, they wouldn't have names the show "More to Love" or broadcast their height and weight along with their ages and careers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, I guess I just had to vent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-6699489905323234988?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/6699489905323234988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=6699489905323234988&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/6699489905323234988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/6699489905323234988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/07/oh-reality-tv.html' title='Oh, reality tv...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-3908321534083378449</id><published>2009-06-22T17:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T17:35:55.099-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Major Victory</title><content type='html'>Running in heels=hard.&lt;br /&gt;Running in heels in the rain=harder.&lt;br /&gt;Running in heels that are too big in the rain=practically impossible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But SUCCESS! I actually made it across the entire parking lot today doing exactly that. Jumping speed bumps, maneuvering between bushes and through pinestraw... and my ankles are fine. Steady as a... well, I don't really know, but I was awesome. This coming from the girl that has had three major sprained ankles. #1--tripped over a rock. #2--fell in a pothole. #3 got caught in a skirt I was changing out of. Yep, I'm a regular Grace Kelly. Making the parking lot dash al lthe more impressive, dontcha think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-3908321534083378449?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/3908321534083378449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=3908321534083378449&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3908321534083378449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3908321534083378449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/06/major-victory.html' title='Major Victory'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-1305050328981043404</id><published>2009-06-22T17:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T17:31:21.555-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So long...</title><content type='html'>Since I've blogged! I think it's because nothing is really going on right now. When I started this thing, I was graduating, getting married, finding a job, a house... Now I have my degree, I'm married, I have a house, and a job... and life is fairly normal right now. My friend Leslie and I used to talk about how we didn't like the word "content" because we felt like a lot of people used it as a synonym for "complacent." But I feel like content is the only word to describe me right now. I love my job, I love my hubby, we're settling in to a church and friends and family and we have somewhat of a routine... I never thought I'd say this, but I'm happy where we are, ready to grow as a person instead of ticking off major life goals. Huh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So just so you know, posts will probably be fewer and farther between. Sorry. I have laundry to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-1305050328981043404?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/1305050328981043404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=1305050328981043404&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/1305050328981043404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/1305050328981043404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/06/so-long.html' title='So long...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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-6138413451446847639.post-1040042639337675999</id><published>2009-05-31T08:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T08:34:41.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Awww...</title><content type='html'>In case you ever wondered how easy it is to make me cry when it comes to animals, this is what made me tear up this morning:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342011418712146754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 220px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SiKjFQZrA0I/AAAAAAAAAGw/KlZue2QMb60/s320/cat2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;*via &lt;a href="http://postsecret.com/"&gt;Postsecret&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So I'm lame. I know. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-1040042639337675999?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/1040042639337675999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=1040042639337675999&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/1040042639337675999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/1040042639337675999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/05/awww.html' title='Awww...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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/_3w4CVafvQfk/SiKjFQZrA0I/AAAAAAAAAGw/KlZue2QMb60/s72-c/cat2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-8936934197148107415</id><published>2009-05-22T18:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T18:25:59.755-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I hope I'm not...</title><content type='html'>So I just got done watching the movie "Taken" with Liam Neeson. Whoa. Brooke, Don't watch this movie. You'll never want to travel and you don't like violence all that much, and this movie is pretty much death after knockout after death. That being said, if you still want to see it, stop reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically this guy is some ex-government agent whose daughter gets kidnapped in Paris for the Albanian sex trade, and he goes after her. Needless to say, his training helps him out a little (probably wouldn't be a movie if they didn't), but what really got me is how realistic the movie was in terms of feelings. The dialogue wasn't all that great and really--who gets away with causing a 12 car pile-up nd killing a bunch of people at a construction site with absolutely no police involvement? But this guy wasn't messing around when it came to his daughter. He hit to kill, none of this punching around, rapid gunfire stuff. Sure, that was a part of it, but he mostly got down and dirty getting the guys who took his daughter. My dad always said that he didn't mind going to jail if someone hurt me. That's how this guy was. I kinda had to giggle when I watched this because I could imagine my dad in one of the car chases driving in the front seat and Ray in the back yelling at him to go faster. I mean, my dad's a big guy and Ray's a black belt. I'm pretty sure they could take care of anyone who messed with me (or anyone in my famiy, for that matter. So if you want to see a really awesome action movie with randomly touching father-daughter moments, watch "Taken." Just be prepared to cringe. A lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I'm going to bake some brownies. Goodnight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-8936934197148107415?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/8936934197148107415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=8936934197148107415&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8936934197148107415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8936934197148107415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-hope-im-not.html' title='I hope I&apos;m not...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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-6138413451446847639.post-8814541224751842975</id><published>2009-05-02T07:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T07:59:07.208-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I have a pet!</title><content type='html'>Well, not really. Here's the story. Ray was outside on our patio on the phone, pacing around (because he can't talk on the phone and sit still), when he saw a leafy twig poking out of our grill. When he opened it, he saw a nest! He was about to reach for it when he saw noticed two beady little eyes peering out at him. He didn't know if it was a bird or not, so when I got home, of course I investigated. It was a mouse! Being the animal lover I am, I sat there staring at it and talking to it, but thinking about it now, I'm sure I was just some big predator squawking at it, ready to eat my find, so... it ran. Towards our open back door.Ray jumped in front of it and it ran to our bushes. When he went to move the grate from the grill, we noticed there were three little babies in the nest! So little, so cute. Ray wanted to leave them, but I couldn't just let them die in our grill. So I made him move the grate to our bushes, so at least if the momma found them they could scamper away. And I know she found them because it rained last night and we looked at the nest and there were more leaves over it. And I can't stop checking on them! Ray thinks that now they'll infest our house, but we'll see. They're just so cute!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-8814541224751842975?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/8814541224751842975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=8814541224751842975&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8814541224751842975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8814541224751842975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-have-pet.html' title='I have a pet!'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-8845399326820352536</id><published>2009-05-02T07:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T07:49:10.695-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts for the week</title><content type='html'>1. If you buy a brand new Land Rover with a snorkle for the engine on it, please take a hammer and some sandpaper to it to make it look like you would be in situations to &lt;em&gt;need&lt;/em&gt; a snorkle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. People really do pay attention to you in your car. Lesson learned after dancing to Kelly Clarkson and having a van full of frat boys laugh at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I really do have absolutely no idea what it's like to deal wth babies. Ray's sister is having a baby shower today and I was absolutely lost in the baby section at Target. Thank goodness for registries!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Along the same lines as using a baby registry, when you're buying people wedding presents, please use their registries. Almost seven months after our wedding, we still have about six picture frames that we have no place to put them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. My birthday is in two weeks, and I feel like I'm already there. For some reason, I really didn't like the number 22. 21 was fine, and I think I'm 23, but there was just something about 22. Hmmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Spring is no excuse to wear clothes that you shouldn't. Skinny or not. Please try not to look like a hoochie. P.S. Heels with short shorts kinda put you on the fast track to that one. Just sayin'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I love May! Spring is the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I made fried chicken and gravy the other day and I did it without setting anything on fire, dropping anything, or creating havoc in the kitchen in any way, and it actually tasted really good! I'm finally getting to where I can cook pretty well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-8845399326820352536?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/8845399326820352536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=8845399326820352536&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8845399326820352536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8845399326820352536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/05/thoughts-for-week.html' title='Thoughts for the week'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-3163749954508542150</id><published>2009-04-15T18:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T18:29:40.579-07:00</updated><title type='text'>As Promised...</title><content type='html'>First off, the captitol from my room window on the 22nd floor:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325089243149067842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SeaEc_8nZkI/AAAAAAAAAFI/63Vtp6geOZw/s320/013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Then, the street that the restaurant we at in was (did that sentence make sense?):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325089349408118098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SeaEjLyv1VI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/QD3VY-jKuM4/s320/024.JPG" border="0" /&gt;And the bell tower of the city, glowing purple:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325089485263864130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SeaErF5SAUI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cHxOKKfVQ3Y/s320/035.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;View from the vending machine of the mountains one evening:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325089651142070642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SeaE0v1ukXI/AAAAAAAAAFg/FgPcnqIlEKQ/s320/087.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now for some destruction from the week... leftovers from a cooking demo and the aftermath of a whiskey tasting (stunk up the entire floor we were on).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325089953004946498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SeaFGUXchEI/AAAAAAAAAFw/AoF-MWDBO6M/s320/102.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325090660356258306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SeaFvfdI-gI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/NzYEbjBdJ64/s320/171.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now for the opening reception. Cubed cheese (big no-no in the culinary world), some yummy bison, and of course, the drinks:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325090478627148162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SeaFk6di0YI/AAAAAAAAAGI/iWiW3fI1RXY/s320/155.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325093475203774002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SeaITVlFdjI/AAAAAAAAAGg/RyT1S8F3vXo/s320/228.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325090260620452066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SeaFYOUsoOI/AAAAAAAAAGA/3Npnmya2mro/s320/137.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Finally, a dancing doll and then the real thing, some native american dancers to open the show:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325090111567447618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SeaFPjDsRkI/AAAAAAAAAF4/FK21G-BILM0/s320/131.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh yeah! I forgot. Finally, A cool blue bear outside the convention center and me with the winner of Top Chef, Hosea Rosenberg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SeaE9j2U7GI/AAAAAAAAAFo/adWHddkd0Ic/s1600-h/091.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325089802542181474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SeaE9j2U7GI/AAAAAAAAAFo/adWHddkd0Ic/s320/091.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325094332031824194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SeaJFNgz8UI/AAAAAAAAAGo/A0gr5KVQduU/s320/257.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Hope you enjoyed! Now, off to the real world. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/6138413451446847639-3163749954508542150?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/3163749954508542150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=3163749954508542150&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3163749954508542150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3163749954508542150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/04/as-promised.html' title='As Promised...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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/_3w4CVafvQfk/SeaEc_8nZkI/AAAAAAAAAFI/63Vtp6geOZw/s72-c/013.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-2217521180171844305</id><published>2009-04-15T17:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T18:04:07.703-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aaaaannnnndddd, I'm back!</title><content type='html'>Wow, It's been awhile. So, you want to hear about my trip to Denver? Well, you get to hear about it anyway. First, we'll talk about the actual work part, because, well, it's probably not that interesting. I sat at the registration desk from 7-6 every day. Every Stinkin' Day. Lots of People, lots of questions, and then ots of time to sit and be bored. But I got to see a lot about what goes on at conferences and meetings, which I enjoyed. Definitely something i could see myself doing someday. There were fun times, though. Opening reception at the Denver Art Museum, lots of food, getting to see a little of Denver (meaning the street we lived on for a week). And we saw a bunny! Right in the middle of the city, outside the museum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325086063084223026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SeaBj5SEujI/AAAAAAAAAEI/fJWYa1L3JMI/s320/078.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;By the way, notice the snow? Yeah. Every other day. Or hour, take your pick. The weather was crazy! I thought I was leaving bad weather in Georgia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325086226243747778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SeaBtZGVf8I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/ECzYSMECFC4/s200/005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was warm when we got there, but they'd just had a blizzard. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325086446239511362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SeaB6Mpac0I/AAAAAAAAAEY/roviwwdhMLQ/s200/010.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then, Sunday was really nice. And then, Monday, this is what we got.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325086635176742770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SeaCFMfjz3I/AAAAAAAAAEg/xM4J8GuQYes/s200/038.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And, Monday afternoon... warm again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325086780735006482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SeaCNqvWpxI/AAAAAAAAAEo/HLBCaYal2kA/s200/042.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Oh, and the walk to the Wednesday night reception was sooooo pleasant...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325087972945918146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SeaDTEEleMI/AAAAAAAAAE4/wKVO66SRcBY/s200/060.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't really have pictures of Thurday of Friday, because I don't remember leaving the hotel (registration desk, you know). Or Saturday, really. But it snowed Saturday, so a pic from out the window.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325088138561329394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SeaDctCYGPI/AAAAAAAAAFA/yjHexPO5YEU/s200/587.JPG" border="0" /&gt; And then Sunday... IT WAS 12 DEGREES! Ugh! And what did I come home to? ICE AND FLURRIES IN APRIL! Oh well. I also never though I'd be happy to feel humidity again. Seriously, my skin was getting scaly and (gross alert) my nose was a little bloody the whole time. And I never thought altitude would ever affect me as much as it did. I was dizzy literally every time I turned around. Ahhh, there's no place like home. But really, it is a beautiful city with lots of character and I wish I'd gotten to see more (but maybe next time in the summer:) ).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next post: The week in pictures (minus the weather, 0f course!).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/6138413451446847639-2217521180171844305?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/2217521180171844305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=2217521180171844305&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/2217521180171844305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/2217521180171844305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/04/aaaaannnnndddd-im-back.html' title='Aaaaannnnndddd, I&apos;m back!'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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/_3w4CVafvQfk/SeaBj5SEujI/AAAAAAAAAEI/fJWYa1L3JMI/s72-c/078.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-8620105752866032146</id><published>2009-04-10T13:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T14:01:57.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's coming, I promise!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;The long-awaited (ha) post on my glamorous trip to Denver, that is. I've just been so tired, I haven't had a chence when I wasn't sleeping. So, just so you can experience it with me, here's a view from my hotel room:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323170827900203618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/Sd-zqiO2smI/AAAAAAAAAEA/JQhKstoMFeM/s400/015.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-8620105752866032146?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/8620105752866032146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=8620105752866032146&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8620105752866032146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8620105752866032146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/04/its-coming-i-promise.html' title='It&apos;s coming, I promise!'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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/_3w4CVafvQfk/Sd-zqiO2smI/AAAAAAAAAEA/JQhKstoMFeM/s72-c/015.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-7314060544890459106</id><published>2009-03-26T20:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T20:29:20.249-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Agh!</title><content type='html'>Denver.&lt;br /&gt;Less than 48 hours.&lt;br /&gt;Denver is in the middle of a BLIZZARD right now.&lt;br /&gt;Seriously. Wind chill 2 degrees.&lt;br /&gt;Trying to figure out what to pack.&lt;br /&gt;What do you pack to be inside a hot hotel all day and then out in the elements at night with no time to change?&lt;br /&gt;Wasting time.&lt;br /&gt;Gotta go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-7314060544890459106?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/7314060544890459106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=7314060544890459106&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/7314060544890459106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/7314060544890459106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/03/agh.html' title='Agh!'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-6115233515482772025</id><published>2009-03-17T18:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T19:00:32.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not LAST!!!</title><content type='html'>Ok. So I've never been what you call a "natural athlete." I like sports, love playing most of them (the exception? Softball. Got knocked out when I was little. I had one of those moments where I woke up and eveyone was standing over me like in the movies... but I digress). Even played soccer in high school for a few years. But was I good? No. I can't even walk without spraining ankles or bruising arms (you'd think I'd be able to see walls in my way...). I was always, ALWAYS the girl picked second or third to last, and the only reason why I was never last was because my athletic friends felt bad for me or didn't want to pick the weird people. I got used to it. I've always been more artistically gifted, and I'm okay with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Ray suggested we start playing tennis a few years ago, I thought, sure. I'll make an idiot out of myself, but it'll be fun and soon it'll be out of his system and I can go back to dragging him to the Fox for musicals. Imagine my surprise when I turned out to be pretty good. Imagine &lt;em&gt;Ray's&lt;/em&gt; surprise when I started beating him. And imagine, one more time, how shocked, absolutely &lt;em&gt;shocked&lt;/em&gt; I was when tonight, a guy watching his girlfriend's tennis match, asked if I played on a team and if I wanted to join theirs! AGGGHHH!  Super cool! That's never happened before! Someone actually watched &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt; play a sport without laughing! And actually think &lt;em&gt;I&lt;/em&gt; would be an asset to a team! Whhooooaaaaa. And, yay! Maybe friends, if they call me. Good week. Especially since I had a weird low yesterday. BUT! No focusing on that. Total answer to prayers on &lt;em&gt;multiple&lt;/em&gt; levels. Yay!!! I'm the coolest &lt;em&gt;ever&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-6115233515482772025?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/6115233515482772025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=6115233515482772025&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/6115233515482772025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/6115233515482772025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/03/im-not-last.html' title='I&apos;m not LAST!!!'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-8560849574165194430</id><published>2009-03-11T17:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T17:14:24.871-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wild Blue Yonder</title><content type='html'>Off I go... to Denver! Thanks to the IACP, I'll be spending almost nine days in the beautiful state of Colorado. Nine days. That's the longest I've ever been away from home before... I feel like such a big girl, traveling by myself to go on a business trip. Ha. But really, I've always wanted a job that let me travel, and now's my chance! And, one of my goals in life is to visit every state. Probably weird, I know, but to see a slice of life from every area of the US is pretty appealing. Now, there are some states that I'm okay with only driving through (Iowa? Rhode Island?), but apparently Colorado is a state to see. Too bad I have to work the whole time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And is it bad that I'm already stressing over what to pack for this trip? I have to fit nine days worth of stuff in one suitcase. And that has to include casual and work clothes, warm and cool weather clothes, and enough stuff to go to a cocktail reception and gala dinner. But if anyone can pack tight, I'm pretty confident in my skills. My suitcase might weigh a ton, but I guarantee I won't use the big one from our luggage. Don't really know where I got these skills or honed them, but whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this trip also makes me want to go shopping for new clothes. Winter clothes. Because I don't have many. Anyone know where to get winter clothes in March?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-8560849574165194430?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/8560849574165194430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=8560849574165194430&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8560849574165194430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8560849574165194430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/03/wild-blue-yonder.html' title='Wild Blue Yonder'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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-6138413451446847639.post-18883591016298382</id><published>2009-03-11T16:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T16:59:52.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why, oh why?</title><content type='html'>So, Ray and I are in the process of finding a church home. Waaayyyy easier said than done in the Bible Belt. I never really found a church to go to in Athens. And I visited a lot of churches. And I know there are certain sermons that are "make it or break it" sermons for guests--money, Christmas and sex. Well, what do you think I hear at every single church I visit? Yep, narrow &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; one down by the time of the year. Not kidding. I've been to &lt;em&gt;one&lt;/em&gt; church in the past five years where the first sermon I heard wasn't on finances or relationships. But I guess you get a pretty good picture about the values of a church body in how the pastor preaches on the topic and the crowd's reaction, which is nice. There have been a few that I've avoided completely after one visit and a few that made me really like the church.&lt;br /&gt;But still. Five years. Two topics. Huuuuugggghhhhhhh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-18883591016298382?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/18883591016298382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=18883591016298382&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/18883591016298382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/18883591016298382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/03/why-oh-why.html' title='Why, oh why?'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-492499417656957768</id><published>2009-03-11T16:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T16:50:13.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'>That was fast...</title><content type='html'>I'm almost better. I was only sick for three days... it's like a record or something for me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-492499417656957768?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/492499417656957768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=492499417656957768&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/492499417656957768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/492499417656957768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/03/that-was-fast.html' title='That was fast...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-1412351390174067960</id><published>2009-03-06T16:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T16:35:25.448-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And again...</title><content type='html'>Ray got sick. Now I'm feeling that tickle in the back of my throat. Yay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-1412351390174067960?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/1412351390174067960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=1412351390174067960&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/1412351390174067960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/1412351390174067960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/03/and-again.html' title='And again...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-3290343660804573864</id><published>2009-03-06T16:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T16:34:28.993-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Skinnamarinky Dinky Dink</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Warning: If the title of the post didn't already get that song stuck in your head, stop reading NOW!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever heard that if a song is stuck in your head, sing the whole thing to get it out? Well, I have, and to cleanse, I'm sharing my song of friendship and happiness with the world. (Please feel free to sing along out loud and do the motions for everyone to see. Spread the good feelings.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skinnamarinky dinky dink, skinnamarinky do&lt;br /&gt;I love you&lt;br /&gt;I love you in the mornin' and in the afternoon&lt;br /&gt;I love you in the evenin' and underneath the moon&lt;br /&gt;OOOHHHHH&lt;br /&gt;Skinnamarinky dinky dink, skinnamarinky do&lt;br /&gt;I LOOOOVVVVVE you!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-3290343660804573864?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/3290343660804573864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=3290343660804573864&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3290343660804573864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3290343660804573864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/03/skinnamarinky-dinky-dink.html' title='Skinnamarinky Dinky Dink'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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-6138413451446847639.post-2035764352313143972</id><published>2009-03-06T16:12:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T16:16:28.083-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Heh...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SbG8HWlOLEI/AAAAAAAAAD4/qHZOhG89lHo/s1600-h/allie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310232270153329730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 305px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SbG8HWlOLEI/AAAAAAAAAD4/qHZOhG89lHo/s400/allie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 'Nuff said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*This post is not necessarily to be taken as criticism toward our current presient. Technically it could apply to any of the fast-talking, promise-making, lying hypocrites that we elect every year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;**But really, could anyone else's fall from grace have been so swift?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-2035764352313143972?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/2035764352313143972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=2035764352313143972&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/2035764352313143972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/2035764352313143972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/03/heh.html' title='Heh...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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/_3w4CVafvQfk/SbG8HWlOLEI/AAAAAAAAAD4/qHZOhG89lHo/s72-c/allie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-3682650474186335306</id><published>2009-02-25T17:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T17:15:58.617-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Anybody there?</title><content type='html'>Have you ever had a time where you realized how badly you want things to change immediately? Here's mine. Ray is going to a bachelor party/cookout Friday night, meaning I get a night to myself! But the thing is, I'm tired of doing things either with Ray, by myself, or with family. Sure, they're all great options, but I haven't been around friends since my wedding. I don't think I've ever felt this lonely, but it's weird (and super hard) to make friends really quick in a new place. Ho-hum, woe is me. So if anyone feels like making the trek over here, please do. I'm bored and need people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-3682650474186335306?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/3682650474186335306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=3682650474186335306&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3682650474186335306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3682650474186335306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/02/anybody-there.html' title='Anybody there?'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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-6138413451446847639.post-956149482709468140</id><published>2009-02-25T17:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T17:08:28.206-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So in my last post...</title><content type='html'>Remember how sore I was? No more. I was raring to go on Saturday, and guess how far I ran (jogged... slowly...)? Two whole miles! When I haven't run that far since my senior year of high school playing soccer... Super proud of myself. And, Ray and I had already decided to run a 5K late April, so I don't have that much to train for! Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-956149482709468140?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/956149482709468140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=956149482709468140&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/956149482709468140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/956149482709468140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/02/so-in-my-last-post.html' title='So in my last post...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-4270168620994158026</id><published>2009-02-14T04:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T04:55:04.920-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I hurt.</title><content type='html'>So Ray and I joined a gym about two weeks ago. Not for any type of New Year's resolution or anything, Ray's always been a member somewhere and we both want to get healthy. And this gym offers a complimentary session with a personal trainer to see where you are and what you need to do to reach your goals. Our guy was really cool, but when he gave us our fitness test... oh. my. goodness. I was sore before we &lt;em&gt;left&lt;/em&gt;. And Wednesday, my legs were actually &lt;em&gt;swollen&lt;/em&gt;. They're &lt;em&gt;still&lt;/em&gt; swollen. And for some reason, my right calf decided it doesn't want to extend my leg anymore. I've literally been limping since then. And it &lt;em&gt;still &lt;/em&gt;hurts. What the crap. Am I &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; out of shape? Granted, we did a million workouts just on our legs because he said they have our strongest muscles. But still, warm-up on the stair stepper (which has really small steps that arene't really useful for a bigfoot like me... I think I really impressed him tripping on that machine, over and over...) squats, steps with weights, more squats with medicine balls, jump squats, planks (yay abs), lunges with weights, calf raises, and more lunges. In twenty minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if anyone has any tips on how to loosen ridiculously cramped muscles, let me know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of the gym, there was this guy there who looked like he hit the 'roids pretty hard and only walked when he was in the gym. Seriously, this guy's upper body looked like the Hulk, all bulging and veiny, but his legs could be used as a model's stand-in. Soooo skinny and not muscular. I decided to call him Foghorn Leghorn. A really good comparison if the picture wasn't painted good enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-4270168620994158026?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/4270168620994158026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=4270168620994158026&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/4270168620994158026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/4270168620994158026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-hurt.html' title='I hurt.'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-3317389231426956522</id><published>2009-02-14T04:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T04:40:53.177-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Everyday moments that make me love being married #3</title><content type='html'>Knowing exactly what channel the tv is set to when I turn it on if Ray watched it without me (ESPN, of course).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-3317389231426956522?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/3317389231426956522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=3317389231426956522&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3317389231426956522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3317389231426956522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/02/everyday-moments-that-make-me-love_14.html' title='Everyday moments that make me love being married #3'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-4731666262213702858</id><published>2009-02-14T04:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T04:37:50.617-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It gets better...</title><content type='html'>In my last post I posted a picture of a koala being rescued from fires in Australia. Get ready for the obligatory collective "Awwwwwwwwwwwww!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they took this female koala (which they nicknamed Sam) to the wildlife shelter, she met Bob, another rescued koala. Now they're inseparable... from near death and pain to finding your best friend... They actually got tears from me this time. Here's the story if you want to read it: &lt;a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/29123220/"&gt;http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/29123220/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-4731666262213702858?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/4731666262213702858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=4731666262213702858&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/4731666262213702858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/4731666262213702858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/02/it-gets-better.html' title='It gets better...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-1616017758190394914</id><published>2009-02-10T18:05:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T18:07:59.972-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Picture of the week</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SZIyvF0rVAI/AAAAAAAAADw/f4QtlMqyu_A/s1600-h/0210_kuala_photo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301355495966856194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 312px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SZIyvF0rVAI/AAAAAAAAADw/f4QtlMqyu_A/s400/0210_kuala_photo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A rescue worker fighting the wildfires in Australia found a koala in the forest. Seriously, guys, I teared up when I saw this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-1616017758190394914?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/1616017758190394914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=1616017758190394914&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/1616017758190394914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/1616017758190394914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/02/picture-of-week.html' title='Picture of the week'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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/_3w4CVafvQfk/SZIyvF0rVAI/AAAAAAAAADw/f4QtlMqyu_A/s72-c/0210_kuala_photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-8704184930344983650</id><published>2009-02-05T03:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T04:01:33.273-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm procrastinating...</title><content type='html'>I really don't want to get ready for work. Don't mind going to work, but sometimes I wish I could go to work like I went to class, hair in a wet ponytail from my shower, no makeup, and a t-shirt, jeans, and flip-flops (of course not in this cold weather, silly!). Oh, the days...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-8704184930344983650?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/8704184930344983650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=8704184930344983650&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8704184930344983650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8704184930344983650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/02/im-procrastinating.html' title='I&apos;m procrastinating...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-199938095377942726</id><published>2009-02-05T03:58:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T03:59:27.966-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I got my hair cut!</title><content type='html'>Yay! It's the first time since &lt;em&gt;August&lt;/em&gt;... and til then I was trying to grow it out for the wedding... ick, so long and yucky. But it's shorter now and sooooo much more comfy... ahhh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-199938095377942726?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/199938095377942726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=199938095377942726&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/199938095377942726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/199938095377942726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-got-my-hair-cut.html' title='I got my hair cut!'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-31353038309123544</id><published>2009-02-01T11:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T11:30:12.752-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Really...</title><content type='html'>Have you heard about those one second commercials Miller High Life is doing for today's Superbowl? They decided to make one second commercials because they wanted to be frugal like the people who drink their beer. Since a 30-second ad during the Bowl costs about $3 million, they spent only $300 thousand. But here's the thing. They bought multiple one-second spots in various markets across the country. Meaning that in all, they still spent more than $3 million for all their commercials combined. Now that's just sneaky. Let everyone think it's the company for the common man and still spend the big bucks to bring in &lt;em&gt;your&lt;/em&gt; cash for &lt;em&gt;their&lt;/em&gt; booze. Clever. But have you seen some of these one-second commercials? Very funny. And customized for each city they'll air in. Absolutely genius. Here's the site: &lt;a href="http://www.1secondad.com/"&gt;http://www.1secondad.com/&lt;/a&gt;. I never thought I'd be spreading the word about a beer company, but it's kinda funny considering I've never even drunk beer and probably never will no matter how good an ad is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for those who care, cheer for the Cardinals. They're the only team in the country that hasn't won a Superbowl since the leagues combined. I do love an underdog!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-31353038309123544?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/31353038309123544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=31353038309123544&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/31353038309123544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/31353038309123544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/02/really.html' title='Really...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-5508062293501632111</id><published>2009-02-01T11:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T11:15:51.436-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Everyday moments that make me love being married #2</title><content type='html'>Waking up to the smell of eggs and bacon cooking on a Saturday morning... because I love breakfast foods (and the fact that Ray loves to cook them)!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-5508062293501632111?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/5508062293501632111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=5508062293501632111&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/5508062293501632111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/5508062293501632111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/02/everyday-moments-that-make-me-love.html' title='Everyday moments that make me love being married #2'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-4059276935569569127</id><published>2009-01-30T15:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T15:37:25.531-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why hasn't the rhythm gotten my hips?</title><content type='html'>I love to dance. But thanks to a latin dancing aerobics class last night, I might have to stick to the Hitch move--elbows bent, sway from side to side, keep it in the center. Now, I like to think I have a fairly good sense of rhythm... timing, beats, all that. But apparently my head hasn't communicated that to my lower half. I really do think I was the second worst dancer there, other than the 45-year-old lady that refused to smile and was super stiff but you could tell she was having a blast. We had to walk in place and she was putting this weird '80s footloose groove to it. I didn't even have that going for me. I can't shake or shimmy,&lt;em&gt; certainly&lt;/em&gt; not what the instructor or half my classmates were doing.  ChaCha? Merengue? Whaaaa...? Alas, my hopes of becoming famous just to win &lt;em&gt;Dancing with the Stars&lt;/em&gt; are dashed. I think I pulled a few muscles I didn't know could be pulled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you know what? It was sooooooo fun... I might just go back. Maybe the rhythm will chase me around the room until it actually &lt;em&gt;does&lt;/em&gt; get me. Because that's the only way I'll &lt;em&gt;ever&lt;/em&gt; look good doing &lt;em&gt;those&lt;/em&gt; dance moves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-4059276935569569127?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/4059276935569569127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=4059276935569569127&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/4059276935569569127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/4059276935569569127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/01/why-hasnt-rhythm-gotten-my-hips.html' title='Why hasn&apos;t the rhythm gotten my hips?'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-7756088536685716358</id><published>2009-01-30T15:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T15:25:54.713-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rollin' Rollin' Rollin'</title><content type='html'>I. hate. traffic. I know, I was sooo excited to move and be closer, but it still takes me an hour or more to get to work. And my gas mileage dropped from around 350 miles per tank to 278. Eesh. That's only because it's so freakin' cold and my car heater doesn't work so I have to leave it running for 15 minutes in the  morning just so my feet don't go numb by the time I get to work and so I don't run off the road because I'm sitting on my hands to keep the blood flowing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm convinced my traffic woes are all because of Ray. Why Ray? you might ask. How would he control traffic? See, Ray has this amazing ability to jinx things. If he likes a top sports team, chances are they'll start losing all their good players (and consequently, losing games) in a few years (anybody follow the NBA or the Suns? all Ray). He boldly proclaims we're actually going to be on time for something? Nope, &lt;em&gt;something&lt;/em&gt; other than my habitual lateness will interfere with our punctuality. So in this case, we were talking about my commute last Thursday and he said, "You've had fairly good luck with traffic since you started commuting after you graduated. You haven't had to deal with any major accidents or anything." So on Friday, the traffic people on tv said the commute was lighter than normal. Yay! I thought. Ummmmm, no. It took forever! Not kidding, every morning &lt;em&gt;and&lt;/em&gt; night since Ray's little declaration I've had to go through at least one wreck.  So thank you, Ray, dear husband. I needed this. Really.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-7756088536685716358?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/7756088536685716358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=7756088536685716358&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/7756088536685716358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/7756088536685716358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/01/rollin-rollin-rollin.html' title='Rollin&apos; Rollin&apos; Rollin&apos;'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-7976015407995866360</id><published>2009-01-24T17:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T18:12:38.343-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Operation Domesticating Anna Part 2</title><content type='html'>Okay, so this one involves Ray, too. We actually fixed things in the house today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My success: Figuring out how to open the tub drain to remove the massive and gooey clog left behind by the previous owners of our townhouse. Thanks, Liquid Plumr, for not working at &lt;em&gt;all.&lt;/em&gt; At least you gave me a money back guarantee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ray's success: He made our washing machine work! It hasn't been filling since we hooked it up, just running and draining. We were preparing to buy a new one (I was convinced we just needed a repairman), but when we were talking to the appliance guy about our water heater (a whole 'nother story completely) we brought up the washer problem. He immediately told us what was wrong. Wow. Easy problem to fix. But Ray did it and we were soooo glad we didn't have to buy a new one.&lt;br /&gt;*FYI: If you ever hook up a washer yourself, don't push the draining hose all the way down. Apparently it creates suction or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, yeah, and the water heater thing? Ours decides it doesn't like heating water and shuts itself off every day and a half or so. Thank goodness for the reset button. Maybe it just doesn't think it's fulfilling its destiny. Or maybe it feels like it should be another household machine, like a dishwasher or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tranny appliances. Oh, boy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-7976015407995866360?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/7976015407995866360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=7976015407995866360&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/7976015407995866360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/7976015407995866360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/01/operation-domesticating-anna-part-2.html' title='Operation Domesticating Anna Part 2'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-5217029205438880175</id><published>2009-01-24T17:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T17:58:54.318-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hmmm...</title><content type='html'>Who know that it would be so hard to decide where to put all the great stuff we got from the wedding and the things we had before? I've already hung/set up candle holders, sconces, picture frames, and other randomness all over and our table is still covered with others I want to use. I guess it's because I want to have people over and I want them to see it all, but that just doesn't seem possible. I suppose I'll just have to give people tours whether they want it or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of things, since Ray and I have become &lt;em&gt;slightly&lt;/em&gt; more financially secure and live in a really nice townhouse that's more house-y than apartment-y, it's hard to be content with what we have. We already have so much more than so many others, but since we moved, it's been "we can get this!" or "I wish we could get that now!" Furniture, tvs, even a car. I'm finally learning to be grateful for the things I've been given and rest in the fact that God will provide for our needs. I think I'm feeling less entitled, too. I always thought that since my family had certain things, I should have them too. Right now. Immediately. On a silver platter. But I like the fact that now we have to budget and make do for now so we can really appreciate the things we'll get in the future. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I feel like such a grown up...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-5217029205438880175?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/5217029205438880175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=5217029205438880175&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/5217029205438880175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/5217029205438880175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/01/hmmm.html' title='Hmmm...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-940899398230236129</id><published>2009-01-23T19:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T19:41:51.840-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Everyday moments that make me love being married #1</title><content type='html'>Sitting on the couch on a Friday night with the hubby eating Ben &amp;amp; Jerry's Phish Food and watching the Real World. Nothing better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-940899398230236129?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/940899398230236129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=940899398230236129&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/940899398230236129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/940899398230236129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/01/everyday-moments-that-make-me-love.html' title='Everyday moments that make me love being married #1'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-8311944464763801133</id><published>2009-01-23T19:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T19:38:10.154-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And I'm back!</title><content type='html'>Ahhh... after an exceptionally long time away from the internet, I'm finally tapping away writing inane blog posts for close friends and random strangers that happen to click a link on those close friends' more interesting/better written webpages. BUT! It's from our new townhouse in Acworth! Yay! We moved! Three months of living in the beautiful North GA mountains with absolutely nothing to do and no one to see and now we're living five miles away from a mall, three movie theatres, dozens of churches to choose from, gyms, restaurants, and NORMAL PEOPLE!!! But you know how I really wanted to leave Ellijay because of the cold? Remember when I talked about snow the first cold snap the state had? Here's the view from our apartment that day: &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294698627215491778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SXqMWVPtgsI/AAAAAAAAADg/H4EsxMnyRrc/s400/412.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And here's what it looked like in Woodstock outside of our house the day we moved:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294699023355442002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3w4CVafvQfk/SXqMtY-1c1I/AAAAAAAAADo/qy0F8HiT5So/s400/008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;See those little white dots? Snow. Yep, that's right. It&lt;em&gt; snowed&lt;/em&gt; on moving day. As we were trucking stuff into the house. Obviously not as much as Ellijay, but not what I wanted once we left. I don't know what I expected. I did grow up here, I know it's no Miami or anything, but come on. It's not supposed to snow this much down here! Oh, well. My commute is still only an hour. 25 miles=one hour. As opposed to 75 miles and 2.5 hours. Ah, relief. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So anyway, don't forget about me and keep stopping by, because these posts with every minute detail of my spectacular life will continue being posted, just for you. Aren't you lucky.&lt;/div&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/6138413451446847639-8311944464763801133?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/8311944464763801133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=8311944464763801133&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8311944464763801133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8311944464763801133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/01/and-im-back.html' title='And I&apos;m back!'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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/_3w4CVafvQfk/SXqMWVPtgsI/AAAAAAAAADg/H4EsxMnyRrc/s72-c/412.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-3369771635730670881</id><published>2009-01-11T08:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T08:27:32.955-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What a week...</title><content type='html'>So ,you know how I declared that my New Year's resolution was not to worry?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone upstairs has a sense of humor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my week:&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, I got sick. A great thing right before you start your first full week of work, right? On Monday, the first thing my boss says to me when I walk in the door is, "Are you okay? Do you need to go home?" So in my first week I have to take sick leave that I haven't earned yet. Then, on Wednesday I had a coworker that has had no professional interaction with me tell one of my supervisors that he didn't think I was good at my job. And Thursday. Oh, Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up, got ready, and left like normal. But then I realized I left my ring and watch at home. So I pull into a road to turn around. Keep in mind that it's been raining 40 days and nights, so the ground is really wet. I don't &lt;em&gt;quite&lt;/em&gt; make it and my tires start sliding in the grass into someone's yard. The only way to avoid either sliding into the river of drainage off the mountain that's been created from the torrents or sliding into someone's house down the hill was to cut right very quickly. Further into this yard. Oh, yeah, and I stopped on top of their septic tank. How did I know? Um, remember the rain? Thanks, high water table. My car starts to sink immediately and of course I do the smart thing and spin my tires a lil' bit, flinging chunks of sewage-filled mud into the air. I called Ray, and he tried to get me out, but &lt;em&gt;no&lt;/em&gt;. We had to call a tow truck to pull me out of someone's waste. And I stepped in the gunk earlier in my brand new $50 heels, so I'm standing around in poo-filled shoes. &lt;em&gt;And &lt;/em&gt;because of all this I had to go home to clean up and call my boss to tell her I'll be late. Sick leave and lateness in the first week. And &lt;em&gt;now&lt;/em&gt; I've been driving my car around with bits of fibrous poo all over my car. I look like such a redneck because my car squeaks and has more than a few scars and battle wounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To top off the day, Ray and I volunteered to take my parents' dog for the week while they visit Brooke in Baltimore, so I had to pick him up after work and drive really slow all the way up to Ellijay with a very rambunctious poodle in my lap. And since we've had him I've been woken up every hour on the hour every night and have had to clean up his messes four times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention we're moving next weekend and we haven't packed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So next year's resolution: no resolutions. They only cause problems.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-3369771635730670881?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/3369771635730670881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=3369771635730670881&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3369771635730670881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3369771635730670881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-week.html' title='What a week...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-6291987378374062958</id><published>2009-01-03T15:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T15:59:02.888-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, the irony...</title><content type='html'>Just heard a news story about an 86-year-old woman who scared a burglar away from her house by grabbing his testicles. The cops tracked him down and booked him. The intruder's name? Michael Dick. Heh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-6291987378374062958?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/6291987378374062958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=6291987378374062958&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/6291987378374062958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/6291987378374062958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/01/oh-irony.html' title='Oh, the irony...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-9057335805477513948</id><published>2009-01-02T06:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T06:37:25.119-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Operation Domesticating Anna Part 1</title><content type='html'>So all of you know by now I struggle with all things homemaking. But I like to think that the creativity I use for other things can apply to home-related things. Decorating, baking, cleaning, whatever. For example, I can't wait to get a shadow box to put some mementos from relatives in it (doily of a yellow butterfly made by my aunt--my grandmother on my dad's side's favorites-- and my great-grandmother on my mom's side's gloves and earrings). Or when I unload the dishwasher and start taking pictures of the glasses to eventually be framed and hung on the wall (don't worry, I have a vision, and pictures will be posted as soon as I'm done).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I think my family is trying to push all that along fairly quickly. I got lots of picture frames and candleholders for Christmas, and a few baking cookbooks and oven mitts. Hmm. And for some reason, Austin (Ray's nephew) fell in love with me on New Year's and wouldn't leave me alone. I think it was because I brought cookies. Oh, it's a cruel cycle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-9057335805477513948?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/9057335805477513948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=9057335805477513948&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/9057335805477513948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/9057335805477513948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/01/operation-domesticating-anna-part-1.html' title='Operation Domesticating Anna Part 1'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-7899885064437531166</id><published>2009-01-02T06:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T06:28:00.722-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What's yours?</title><content type='html'>I'm usually not a big fan of new year's resolutions. I either forget what they are or get discouraged when I don't follow through with them. But yesterday Ray asked if I made one and I think I did right on the spot. So to share with the rest of you, I'm not going to worry as much. I'm typically pretty optimistic about most things. But when lots of things start to happen, I forget the good and only think about the bad. So, no more worrying. Things will be taken care of. What people think don't matter. Changes will happen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-7899885064437531166?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/7899885064437531166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=7899885064437531166&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/7899885064437531166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/7899885064437531166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/01/whats-yours.html' title='What&apos;s yours?'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-3001570543626317861</id><published>2009-01-02T06:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T06:21:52.491-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year!</title><content type='html'>Whew! These past few weeks have been a blur! Christmas, new job, new house... a little overwhelming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be honest, I'm kind of glad the holidays are over. We had to do a lot of driving, and my uncle dies a few days before Christmas and my aunt was in the emergency room Christmas Eve/Day with a stomach problem called diverticulitis. On Christmas day we went to my dad's side's gathering and it was okay, considering half the crowd lost their dad/granddad, but obvioulsy it was kind of quiet (hard considering there were at least 25 people there). On Friday we went to the funeral. And for New Year's we went to Carrollton (a two-hour drive) to celebrate with Ray's sister and her husband. In between all that we were trying to get the lease signed for our townhouse, and since the original plan was to move this weekend I started packing. Anyway, my job started Monday so I'll be glad when I can settle into a routine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry this was kind of a downer. To be resolved in posts to come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-3001570543626317861?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/3001570543626317861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=3001570543626317861&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3001570543626317861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3001570543626317861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2009/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year!'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-3886854956537611136</id><published>2008-12-25T07:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T07:09:51.584-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Have yourself a merry little Christmas</title><content type='html'>Enjoy the day, eat lots of yummy food, open/give fun gifts, relish the time you have with family and friends. And remember why we celebrate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-3886854956537611136?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/3886854956537611136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=3886854956537611136&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3886854956537611136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3886854956537611136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/12/have-yourself-merry-little-christmas.html' title='Have yourself a merry little Christmas'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-2213411504923160636</id><published>2008-12-23T05:32:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T05:37:52.927-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Please pray for my family right now. One of my uncles died last night after a long battle with many health problems. I really don't know what to say other than that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-2213411504923160636?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/2213411504923160636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=2213411504923160636&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/2213411504923160636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/2213411504923160636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/12/please-pray-for-my-family-right-now.html' title=''/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-8169474846540414343</id><published>2008-12-20T08:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T09:17:17.885-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tis the season to be jolly!</title><content type='html'>I HAVE A JOB!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally! Well, it hasn't really been that long, I've only been unemployed for a month or so and loking for about two... but still, sitting at home everyday with nothing to do and no one to see gets old &lt;em&gt;fast&lt;/em&gt;. But, I am now a staff associate for the International Association of Culinary Professionals at Kellen Company in Atlanta. I am so excited. They've stressed growth opportunities the whole time, and they treat their employees great. Agh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But man, was I &lt;em&gt;stressed&lt;/em&gt;. I had a second interview Thursay morning. I got there at 8:30 and interviewed with two people. Then they looked at my schedule (they made me a &lt;em&gt;schedule&lt;/em&gt;) and sent me to three more people. Then I interviewed with one more person, and then another took me and gave me a proofreading/Microsoft Word skills test. I would have had to take one for Excel, but thankfully the document had been saved over. I was there til 10:30 and I was ahead of schedule! As I left they said I would hear something either Thursday or Friday. So all Thursday afternoon I was really anxious, but I knew they'd probably wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what do you think happened all day Friday? My phone rang a &lt;em&gt;million&lt;/em&gt; times. First it was a real estate agent (we were looking at apartments/houses all day). Then it was Ray's mom. Then it was another real estate agent. Then it was a rep from an apartment complex we looked at the day before. Then my mom. Real estate. Apartment rep. Real estate. Real estate. Dad. Apartment rep. Real estate. Mom. Sister, Real estate. By two, I stopped answering it. Every single time it rang my stomach dropped and every time it wasn't the right number I felt like slamming my phone against the wall. And my self-esteem was &lt;em&gt;plummeting&lt;/em&gt;. By three I convinced myself to get used to the Golden Arches.  Finally, at about 4:30, Ray made me promise that at five I would stop thinking about it. And then, at 4:45, they finally called. Took long enough! But whatever, it was a good call, but since we were in the Mall of Georgia, I had to hold my jumps and squeals til we got outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, Ray and I found a new townhouse we love in Woodstock that we're most likely going to rent. It's sooooo cute, with a fireplace and a teeny fenced-in backyard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AAAAANNNNND, I got to spend last night with good friends I haven't seen in awhile. Anna B. just got back from Madagascar, so her family threw a little welcome home/birthday/ Christmas party. Yay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeserday was a greay day. And tonight Ray and I are going to celebrate at one of our favorite restaurants. Mmmm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-8169474846540414343?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/8169474846540414343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=8169474846540414343&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8169474846540414343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8169474846540414343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/12/tis-season-to-be-jolly.html' title='Tis the season to be jolly!'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-1524064405469925819</id><published>2008-12-17T08:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T09:01:59.262-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The weather outside is frightful...</title><content type='html'>Because it's freakin' hot outside!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's December, and almost winter, and &lt;em&gt;65 degrees&lt;/em&gt;. Tomorrow, supposed to be&lt;em&gt; 73&lt;/em&gt;. Seriously. The first day of winter, the forecast says it will be almost &lt;em&gt;60&lt;/em&gt; degrees. How are you supposed to get ready for Christmas? Red and green don't exactly work in warm weather. I mean, I'm wearing &lt;em&gt;flip flops&lt;/em&gt; today. In the North GA &lt;em&gt;mountains&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I've got an interview tomorrow. I get nervous for these things, and I get hot when I get nervous. Sweaty hot. How am I supposed to look calm, cool and collected wearing a suit when it's warm enough to wear &lt;em&gt;tank&lt;/em&gt; tops? Huuughhh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe all those Santa figurines that people get from tropical vacations are accurate for this year... red and green swim shorts, Raybans and a pina colada? He'd fit in here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-1524064405469925819?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/1524064405469925819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=1524064405469925819&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/1524064405469925819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/1524064405469925819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/12/weather-outside-is-frightful.html' title='The weather outside is frightful...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-7976517940006590789</id><published>2008-12-15T08:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T08:37:28.482-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Deck the halls</title><content type='html'>I love Christmas decorations, and Friday night at Ray's work party, we saw the best of the worst. A tacky ornament party. We were blessed with what everyone called "the idol," a glass thing with glittery safari animals covered in pine needles. The winner was this thing, apparently from South Park, called Mr. Hanky the Christmas Poo. If you know, great. If you don't, don't bother, it is what it sounds like. Other crowd favorites included a miniature doll made to look like a judge in the system, an Alabama wreath (toilet seat with antlers and bows), and two spherical ornaments with pictures of attractive men covering them. That one came in a bag with the Hugh Jackman on the front, People's "sexiest man alive." Think about that one for a minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, those government employees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, I'm loving all the stuff all over the house. It feels more homey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll just hide the idol until next year's party.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-7976517940006590789?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/7976517940006590789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=7976517940006590789&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/7976517940006590789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/7976517940006590789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/12/deck-halls.html' title='Deck the halls'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-5716747654142431296</id><published>2008-12-15T08:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T08:28:41.199-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll be home for Christmas</title><content type='html'>Big sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like the waiting game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since my second interview could possible lead to a real job, Ray and I have started apartment hunting again. Or, really, house hunting. I don't get why we're finding 3 bedroom houses for rent for less than one bedroom apartments. Sure, the apartments are nice and have pools and tennis courts and gyms, but I would so much rather drive to all those things and have a real house. It's really exciting but hard because there are no definites yet. But it always makes sense to plan, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the bright side, I keep hoping I'll get hired and by some miracle we can move soon. Like this weekend. That would be soooooo awesome. Unlikely, but awesome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-5716747654142431296?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/5716747654142431296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=5716747654142431296&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/5716747654142431296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/5716747654142431296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/12/ill-be-home-for-christmas.html' title='I&apos;ll be home for Christmas'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-9193620078866296213</id><published>2008-12-12T07:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T07:21:31.148-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fa la la la laaaaa, la la la laaaaa</title><content type='html'>Random stuff for today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- lesson #847 for the kitchen: don't cook a two-pound box of macaroni when the recipe only calls for eight ounces. Only disasters and mounds of macaroni can result.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- lesson #252 in home maintenance: let the husband handle anything that deals with a plunger. Ew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- lesson #673 in housekeeping: Anticipate the hubby running out of clean socks and undershirts before he needs them 10 minutes before work. Or just buy more socks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Ray's work Christmas party is tonight. Tacky Ornament party at a Chinese buffet. Not so excited about the food, but I love the ornaments. Last year, since these people deal with delinquents and have to keep track of these things, someone filled a pee cup (for drug testing)with some kind of yellow liquid and floated a snowman in the middle. They all got a kick out of it. Inside jokes, I guess. But, it's my debut to his coworkers as Ray's wife. Now I get to defend myself against awkward questions... "How's married life?"... How was the honeymoon? (nudge nudge, wink wink)"... "Are you ready to throw in the towel yet?" (howling laughter while I just shrug and start blushing). Yay for Christmas parties! But no, really, I like the people Ray works with. Should be fun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-9193620078866296213?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/9193620078866296213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=9193620078866296213&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/9193620078866296213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/9193620078866296213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/12/fa-la-la-la-laaaaa-la-la-la-laaaaa.html' title='Fa la la la laaaaa, la la la laaaaa'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-3959735817923052318</id><published>2008-12-12T07:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T07:06:57.939-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Grown up Christmas list</title><content type='html'>Agggghhhhh! Yay! I'm am so excited right now! I got a call back from my interview yesterday. I get to meet some senior members of the company in a week, which is really intimidating, but I'm okay with facing that challenge. This job seems so great. Lots to do, lots to learn, growth potential in lots of directions, and a great company. I'm not going into much more detail because I don't want to build my hopes, but for now I commence celebrating in my living room, jumping up and down all by myself. So if you get the chance and you don't mind looking weird, do a little happy dance, be with me in spirit!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-3959735817923052318?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/3959735817923052318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=3959735817923052318&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3959735817923052318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3959735817923052318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/12/grown-up-christmas-list.html' title='Grown up Christmas list'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-7968995580034511551</id><published>2008-12-08T10:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T10:14:07.761-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bells will be ringing</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;(Note: a "&lt;a href="http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/12/do-you-hear-what-i-hear.html"&gt;Do you hear what I hear&lt;/a&gt;" update)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... In prison, for the convicts who escape and terrorize small mountain towns. So remember that fugitive that had me cowering in the living room? From what I hear, he was caught after a fairly eventful showdown at the Dairy Queen. Cop cars everywhere, at the gas station across the street and the bar down the road, just for this one guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Ray got to make fun of me some more when he got home and almost cracked the door because I'd latched the chain and was crouched on the floor in our hallway, peering out to make sure it was him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-7968995580034511551?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/7968995580034511551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=7968995580034511551&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/7968995580034511551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/7968995580034511551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/12/bells-will-be-ringing.html' title='Bells will be ringing'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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-6138413451446847639.post-6857848899896833327</id><published>2008-12-08T09:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T10:01:18.721-08:00</updated><title type='text'>O Holy Night</title><content type='html'>Since my last post talked extensively about how meaningful the Christmas story is, I decided to post it. I absolutely love this story, and practically have it memorized. Every year, at my grandparents' house, we would all squeeze into the living room, dim the lights, turn the light onto the nativity and listen to my grandpa read this passage. If you know my grandfather, he has a rough, gravelly voice that's perfect for bible stories. We still have this tradition, and every year he still has this reverence and respect for the words he's reading. Which is one reason why it's so important. So anyway, here you go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria. And everyone went to his own town to register. So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests." When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let's go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.&lt;br /&gt;-Luke 2:1-20, NIV&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-6857848899896833327?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/6857848899896833327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=6857848899896833327&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/6857848899896833327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/6857848899896833327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/12/since-my-last-post-talked-extensively.html' title='O Holy Night'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-9033039670527346158</id><published>2008-12-08T08:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T10:01:57.644-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So this is Christmas</title><content type='html'>When I was little, every Christmas Eve my mom's side of the family would go to my grandparents' church for their candlelight service. While it was always a well-produced show, it was a tad bit dull for children (and apparently, my mom, too). Because one early year, my mom, younger cousin and I discovered that if you held the half-inch thick candle long enough, the wax started to soften. So every year after that, we all compared how long we could stretch the wax and make a curlique at the end. It made the ceremony a lot more bearable. But it was a little embarassing having to turn the candle in to the baskets at the door when we left. I hated that glare from the old ladies that said, "Ugh, these children, don't have any respect for the church property."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point of this story is that I was really wishing for one of those candles at my old church's annual Christmas dinner show. Now, I'm not going to use its name because I'd hate for this to turn people away from a church that's usually great, but I feel like this needs to be said and I feel like we can all learn something from it. It was boring. Well-produced, and filled with talent, but incredibly dull. A candle would have at least distracted me. Every song sounded the same (I literally could not tell which song they were playing until the singers began, and I'm a fairly musically minded person). Beautifully performed, but the same. Except for three songs. O Come O Come Emmanuel, Jingle Bell Rock, and Rudolph. Performed by two people. I swear, every time they get on stage whatever they sing/play automatically becomes my favorite version of the song. But anyway, after some pedestrian music, they started the drama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What. the. heck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only was it kinda dumb and not that funny, but there was no message. Once I realized it &lt;em&gt;had&lt;/em&gt; to be ending soon, I kept looking for some tie-in to the Christmas story or spreading Christmas spirit or &lt;em&gt;something&lt;/em&gt;. But it never came. And then a few pastors got on stage and discussed how the play was all about individual stories and so was the Christmas message. But they never really discussed the actual Christmas story. Sure, there was a little about the shepherds and wise men, but nothing about how miraculous it was or really even why Jesus came, or, for that matter, why shepherds and wise men are even in the picture. I thought the best year for this show was when they made a really strong connection to Easter. But this year? Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is extremely upsetting to me. This church has been pretty radical in what it does and always breaks the mold on how churches function and the way to spread the gospel. Their music was one really big way for them to do this. So was this dinner. This year all of that was gone. It could have been any large church that's been around for 50 years. My hubby said they only got skin-deep. I though they only plucked a few hairs. They've always been great at getting to the heart of messages. Where did that go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We always invited friends to this event, and we were really glad they didn't come this year. These are people who didn't grow up in church and expect something new and different. I was especially disappointed when I saw a friend from high school leaving with her grandmother. This girl is Wiccan. Her family has been dragging her to church function for years. One day she told me that being Wiccan gave her a place to belong and let her feel like there was a point for her existence, a place in the universe. If there was &lt;em&gt;one&lt;/em&gt; church in the area that I thought she might find something different and become interested, find that feeling, it was &lt;em&gt;this&lt;/em&gt; church. But I knew that when she left, she saw the same ol' thing and heard absolutely &lt;em&gt;nothing&lt;/em&gt;. She is the kind of person Christians &lt;em&gt;need&lt;/em&gt; to reach. How many others were in that audience and thought that there was nothing being offered?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, that being said, Ray was joking about how that show ruined his holiday spirit (he's a Thanksgiving person) because it didn't mention what the season was about. So remember, holiday spirit comes from Jesus, being born miraculously to die and rise miraculously so we can live. In the midst of all the trees and decorations and songs and presents, remind yourself that God did some amazing things Christmas night, just to show us that he loves us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-9033039670527346158?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/9033039670527346158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=9033039670527346158&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/9033039670527346158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/9033039670527346158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/12/so-this-is-christmas.html' title='So this is Christmas'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-4247624381781677102</id><published>2008-12-05T15:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T15:56:09.881-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The most wonderful time of the year</title><content type='html'>Good day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally got to decorate the apartment today! And Ray helped, which is a big surprise because I like Christmas decorating a lot more than he does. But afterwards, right when we decided to go for a walk, my phone rang. It was for a job interview! AGGGHHHH! Finally! I am so freakin' excited! I've been so discouraged with the whole job search lately. But it's so much more than a job and a paycheck. It means possibly moving away from Ellijay, closer to civilization, things to do, people to hang out with, stuff to get involved in... Ahhh. And so on our meager budget we decided to mini-celebrate with Zaxby's and then some Ben &amp;amp; Jerry's and a movie (Phish Food... mmm!). So my day was pretty close to perfect. It's like a pre-Christmas present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, you don't know how excited I got. I was jumping up and down and singing and rambling on and on. But I don't sing normal songs. You know in the Wizard of Oz right after Dorothy leaves Munchkinland and comes to the fork in the Yellow Brick Road right before she meets the Scarecrow? It's really upbeat, fun clarinet-y bouncy stuff. So I basically was humming this as I skipped along the path in Ellijay's park. I think Ray was a little embarassed (luckily it was really cold so no one else was out), but who cares? I have a job interview!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-4247624381781677102?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/4247624381781677102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=4247624381781677102&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/4247624381781677102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/4247624381781677102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/12/most-wonderful-time-of-year.html' title='The most wonderful time of the year'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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-6138413451446847639.post-73098821849230107</id><published>2008-12-03T15:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T10:03:25.101-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Do you hear what I hear?</title><content type='html'>I'm a little freaked out right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While it's great to have a husband who's in-the-know in city matters and loves to make sure I'm safe, but sometimes it backfires. Example from today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Phone rings)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Hey.&lt;br /&gt;Ray: Hey, ummm... is the door locked?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Did you lock it when you left? And why does it matter?&lt;br /&gt;Ray: There's a fugitive loose in Ellijay. They locked the schools down because he's near downtown somewhere. And he's armed.&lt;br /&gt;(Silence)&lt;br /&gt;Ray: But I don't want to freak you out or anything, I just thought you'd want to know.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Are all the windows locked? Are you going to be okay? What'd he do? Should--&lt;br /&gt;Ray: (Chuckling a little) Anna, it's fine, it's no big deal, I just wanted to make sure the door was locked.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes, I re-locked it.&lt;br /&gt;Ray: Good, just don't be worried, I'll be home later.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yeah. Thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(About thirty minutes later the phone rings again)&lt;br /&gt;Ray: Hey, whatcha doing... you're not huddled up on the couch, are you?&lt;br /&gt;Me: you know me so well... what did you think I was going to do?&lt;br /&gt;Ray: well, [co-worker] said that if you were freaking out you could come up here and help us decorate.&lt;br /&gt;Me: So you want me to leave and drive through downtown where the fugitive could carjack me and kidnap me?&lt;br /&gt;Ray: Anna, it's no big deal. Really.&lt;br /&gt;(silence)&lt;br /&gt;Ray: I shouldn't tell you these things, should I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm currently curled up on the couch peeking out the windows every few minutes at every car that drives by wondering if I should hop in my car far away until Ray comes home. Good times.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-73098821849230107?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/73098821849230107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=73098821849230107&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/73098821849230107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/73098821849230107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/12/do-you-hear-what-i-hear.html' title='Do you hear what I hear?'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-1603348774166586145</id><published>2008-12-01T06:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-06T05:51:04.741-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What child is this?</title><content type='html'>I'm going to a baby shower today... hmmm. See, I don't like babies... and I've never been to a baby shower, and I don't know the girl or her friends very well. It's one of Ray's friend's wife, and I really like her, just don't know her very well. So it should be interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been weird anyway lately because Ray's sister is preggers, too. Due on &lt;em&gt;my&lt;/em&gt; birthday (but that's a different story). They're hoping for a girl, and the friends are having a girl, so every time Ray and I are in any store we look through baby stuff for potential gifts. I giggle to myself a little because the the clohes are so cute but I still have no desire to ever have kids that small, but women always look at me with that knowing look that says, "Aww, look at that young couple planning for babies, isn't that sweet..." Blech.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But anyway, on a positive note, I get human interaction during the shower and I get to leave Ellijay for the day, even if it is for babies. Yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-1603348774166586145?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/1603348774166586145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=1603348774166586145&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/1603348774166586145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/1603348774166586145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/12/what-child-is-this.html' title='What child is this?'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-4009845921381765563</id><published>2008-12-01T06:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T06:49:02.208-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!</title><content type='html'>Yay! First one of the season! Well, to be honest, at first it was more like slush, only sticking to cars, but now we have beautiful, fluffy flakes gathering on the ground (and turning to ice... so much for leaving the house today). I have so much I wanted to get done today because this past week has been so busy and we've been down in Paulding/Cobb everyday since last Monday, but snow just makes me want to decorate for Christmas! And I really need to get that done when Ray's not here. I don't think he could handle that mess. But for now, I'll crank up the carols, drink some hot chocolate, and start going through my red and green!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-4009845921381765563?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/4009845921381765563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=4009845921381765563&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/4009845921381765563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/4009845921381765563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/12/let-it-snow-let-it-snow-let-it-snow.html' title='Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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-6138413451446847639.post-3522461765143975368</id><published>2008-11-28T04:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T05:07:30.276-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's the most wonderful time of the year!</title><content type='html'>FINALLY! It's Christmas season! after stores and advertisers have been celebrating since mid-September, I can finally join the fun! YAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for some strange reason, I'm shopping today. I've only done it once, and I didn't get the hype. But I'm hanging out with the mom and we both love to people watch, so it should be a fun day. Crazy, but fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanksgiving day fun: My pie was wonderful! Everyone loved it, including me. Ray doesn't even really like pie at all and he was super excited to have leftovers. We called Brooke and let her shout over the speakerphone to the entire family. Yay, when you have a sore throat... sorry, but we love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to a shopping dilemma: I'm very picky about what I wear when I shop. I get hot really easily, but it's cold outside, but I don't want to carry around a heavy coat. And I can't wear light colors because makeup rubs off when I try on clothes. I also can't wear anything that stretches out too easily because, once again, I like to try on clothes. For the same reason, my hair pretty much has to be down (who likes re-doing hair all day?). And, hello!? I have to dress for the season! I think it might be a good thing that I don't have ear piercings, because I would totally be one of those people wearing giant blinking wreaths that sing or something. Maybe I'll wear my jingle bell headband!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, for the first time this year...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I have a great husband, He's not so much a fan of holiday tunes, and I'm sure by Christmas he'll want to melt Frosty with a blowtorch, but on the way home last night he turned the radio to Christmas music without even asking! Altogether now... Aaaaawwwwwwww!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-3522461765143975368?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/3522461765143975368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=3522461765143975368&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3522461765143975368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3522461765143975368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/11/its-most-wonderful-time-of-year.html' title='It&apos;s the most wonderful time of the year!'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-6256530359413434702</id><published>2008-11-27T04:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T04:32:02.682-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gobble Gobble</title><content type='html'>Happy Thanksgiving!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eat turkey, be thankful, remember loved ones who can't be with you on the holiday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And pray that my apple pie turns out yummy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-6256530359413434702?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/6256530359413434702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=6256530359413434702&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/6256530359413434702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/6256530359413434702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/11/gobble-gobble.html' title='Gobble Gobble'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-3733667149364419728</id><published>2008-11-25T06:58:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T07:09:28.772-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a-changin'!</title><content type='html'>It rained yesterday. Ick. But! When I woke up this morning, there was a heavy frost looking sneakily snow-like everywhere! The best thing about living in Ellijay at this time of year has to be that there's a very good chance of seeing snow. Not the kind that falls and turns to rain before it hits the ground, but the kind that actually accumulates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iiiii'm... dreaming... of a whiiiite... Christmaaas... !!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-3733667149364419728?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/3733667149364419728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=3733667149364419728&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3733667149364419728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3733667149364419728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/11/its-changin.html' title='It&apos;s a-changin&apos;!'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-8302607847875435838</id><published>2008-11-25T06:58:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T06:58:51.170-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What my life has become</title><content type='html'>I actually get excited about watching Jeopardy every night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-8302607847875435838?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/8302607847875435838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=8302607847875435838&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8302607847875435838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8302607847875435838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-my-life-has-become.html' title='What my life has become'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-4120689718805254778</id><published>2008-11-20T11:03:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T11:21:01.543-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's official! (and more related randomness)</title><content type='html'>Hand me a bonnet and put me in that covered wagon, My name is now legally Anna Marie Carver (please see my &lt;a href="http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/07/hello-belgium.html"&gt;post&lt;/a&gt; about my name to figure out &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; sentence). I went to Social Security about two weeks ago and the DDS (because apparently the DMV doesn't exist anymore) Tuesday. Everyone told me it was going to be such a hassle, but it really wasn't. I guess if I'd needed to take off work or something it would have been harder, but I went to the SS office about 45 minutes before they closed and was in and out in 20 minutes. The guy was nice and efficient. And maybe the DDS experience was softened by the fact that I went to a location up in the booneys where no one else goes. Ahh, Blue Ridge. But I had to drive home and back again because they don't take copies of marriage licenses. It just doesn't make sense. I mean, I had my new social security card, shouldn't the government declaring my new name be enough? Oh, well. When the lady called my name after the new license printed she said, "Ms. Carver?" and I just sat there because I didn't recognize my name. It'll take awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my license no longer says under 21. It looks so bare. And I broke my streak of taking the pictures in an Old Navy tank top. See, I had to renew my learner's permit and got the pic taken twice, and then again for my license. Up until about this summer I pretty much lived in Old Navy ribbed tank tops. (Oh, who am I kidding, I still have about 20.) So each one was a different color. But it being frigid up here, I had to wear a sweater. But, ha! it was still from Old Navy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're welcome Old Navy, for the free advertising. And no, I don't work for them. But I would. Are they hiring?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-4120689718805254778?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/4120689718805254778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=4120689718805254778&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/4120689718805254778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/4120689718805254778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/11/its-official-and-more-related.html' title='It&apos;s official! (and more related randomness)'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-8800083016753633497</id><published>2008-11-20T10:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T11:02:34.497-08:00</updated><title type='text'>B-O-R-E-D</title><content type='html'>I need something to do. Since there's nothing in Ellijay and no one to hang out with, I've decided to go room by room and cleaning. Well, that's the plan, anyway. Yesterday was the kitchen, today is supposed to be the bathroom. But since Ray cooked sweet potatoes this morning for his work Thanksgiving party, the kitchen needs a scrub again. And I keep getting distracted. I usually reserve mornings for job search/applications and afternoons for everything else, but I either keep looking for jobs or find something else to do. Like make a to-do list of absolutely everything I could possibly do. Or hang curtains (and for me that's an ordeal). Or watch a What not to Wear marathon. Huuuuuuggggghhhhhh. It makes me look forward to Thanksgiving because I actually get to interact with someone other than the Walmart cashier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was a dull post. Sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-8800083016753633497?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/8800083016753633497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=8800083016753633497&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8800083016753633497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8800083016753633497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/11/b-o-r-e-d.html' title='B-O-R-E-D'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-8377459496000768504</id><published>2008-11-18T09:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T09:38:10.103-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A reason to look forward to Winter</title><content type='html'>You probably all know that I love fall. It's my favorite season (only by scientific seasons though, we'll talk about holidays later) by far. The cold nights and comfortable days, the colors, that crispness in the air, Thanksgiving, Brooke baking all the time (but now she's in Baltimore…whimper). But there's one thing that I would be absolutely joyous if it disappeared. Ladybugs. They are everywhere. Blech, shudder. Those little vermin pop up anywhere, anytime. They just sit in their red, pearly shells waiting to scare innocent bystanders. Unless they fly. And then they attack like Kamikaze pilots. And they decide to stick to you, gripping your skin, clothes, hair with their nasty sticky legs trying to eat you like they eat their garden prey. No really, they do. They're evil, plain and simple. Gross. Don't even try to convince me that they help the environment, they're lucky, or (heaven forbid) try to tell my they're cute. Because it won't work. They're ugly, stinky pests that need to die. A quick, crunchy death.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-8377459496000768504?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/8377459496000768504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=8377459496000768504&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8377459496000768504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8377459496000768504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/11/reason-to-look-forward-to-winter.html' title='A reason to look forward to Winter'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-8725798106304834969</id><published>2008-11-18T09:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T09:36:12.916-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it possible?</title><content type='html'>... that the GSP has finally started doing its job? I wondered for awhile... the random patrol cars parked in hidden ditches on the side of the road, only at the beginning or end of the months... but for the past month I have seen at least one cop pulling people over &lt;em&gt;every &lt;/em&gt;single day. Both ways, all 85 miles to and from Atlanta. But they always stopped around Canton (because it's the nearest "big city") so I thought maybe they only cared about suburban commuters and soccer moms. And then today, I had to drive to Blue Ridge to change my license, and lo and behold I passed&lt;em&gt; two&lt;/em&gt; GSPs. Wow. Now, I'm not one that really champions for police pulling people over for traffic violations. There are more important things out there going on. Crime, drugs... learn some priorities. But at least if they are going to pull people over, they've been consistent. Thank you, Georgia State Patrol, for putting out tax dollars to work correctly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-8725798106304834969?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/8725798106304834969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=8725798106304834969&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8725798106304834969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8725798106304834969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/11/is-it-possible.html' title='Is it possible?'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-4170208257814307611</id><published>2008-11-15T07:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T07:18:11.931-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Retro Post</title><content type='html'>*note: this post mentions me at work because I wrote a bunch of posts one day at work... this is just one of them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever had something completely mundane happen and it completely make your day? Today was one of those days. I was bored, waiting for some work to cross my desk, when suddenly the fire alarm went off. It was the most advanced alarm I’d ever heard. No honking atrocity for Marcus. Nope, we get that canned, soothing female voice chanting “This is an emergency. Please remain calm. Please proceed to your nearest exit. Please do not run. Please do not use the elevator.” So I remained calm, walked to the nearest stairs and shuffled outside with the rest of the building. We all walk to the parking lot and at first, I’m just standing there, watching the kids and their teachers and looking for anyone in my department to talk to, and suddenly I realize what an absolutely beautiful fall day it is. Perfect temperature with a slight breeze blowing, deep blue sky with wispy, cottony clouds and some of the best leaf color I’ve seen (even in Ellijay). Reds, yellows, oranges, browns, some of my favorite colors. It was like Crayola exploded on the trees. I haven’t had a chance to really be outside for fall because of work, and I loved it. And I’ve been pretty discouraged about the whole job thing and not knowing what I want to do with my life, and kind of lonely because I don’t know anyone in Ellijay. I think Jesus just knew I needed a big old relaxing nature hug. So basically I stood in the parking lot like I was catatonic and just experienced it. You should try it sometime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. That whole nature hug thing… I don’t care if you think it sounded dumb. Sitting and resting in God’s creation can be the most cleansing thing in the world if you just open up and sink into it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-4170208257814307611?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/4170208257814307611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=4170208257814307611&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/4170208257814307611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/4170208257814307611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/11/retro-post.html' title='Retro Post'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-797539965275256374</id><published>2008-11-15T07:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T07:06:34.568-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Here we go again</title><content type='html'>My time is up. Finished. I've been thrown to the HR wolves of greater Atlanta. Not like they’ll attack or anything. I think they’re all hibernating. Wake up and post some PR jobs to lure some fresh meat in, for heaven’s sake! Seriously, almost no jobs are being posted for anything. Dang bad economy. But at least I’ve gained some “experience,” the catchphrase of intern enthusiasts everywhere. I’ve done new things, met interesting people, fun for all. A list of the best things I’ve done/learned:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• I finally figured out how to use Excel!&lt;br /&gt;• Big Splash IV—huge gala fundraiser—Helping planning was the purpose of my internship and I’m so glad I got to go and see what the world of non-profit development is like&lt;br /&gt;• Going to fancy fashion shows and meeting designers that I’ve never heard of because I couldn’t afford their clothing in a million years&lt;br /&gt;• learning to walk in high heels everyday (I still may not be graceful, but I’m steady. Side note: my mom always says girls who don’t walk well in heels look like they’re pulling a plow. I need to ask her if I’m past this point or if I need to get some horns and call myself Bessie.)&lt;br /&gt;• free vaccinations (perks of working at a school/medical center)&lt;br /&gt;• meeting lots of influential Atlanta society members that probably won’t remember me if I ran into them on the street (in addition to that, learning about how the other half—well, upper third because I’m technically middle class—lives. I could only run into them in Midtown or Buckhead. Maybe downtown if they were desperate for fun or could be seen by people. Apparently outside the perimeter is basically hell for these people. No Saks? Only chain restaurants? Wal-Mart, not Whole Foods? What would they do?)&lt;br /&gt;• aquiring a taste for more fanciful foods and beverages (lobster, truffles—not the chocolate kind, champagne…mmm)&lt;br /&gt;• Typing list after list and press releases, emails, etc. has trained me to type really fast. Not accurately, but fast.&lt;br /&gt;• figuring out how many times the Buckhead Betties at these events have gotten “facial rejuvenation”&lt;br /&gt;• guessing which number wife they are to their aged husbands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, it has ended. But surely someone will call me about a job. Anyone?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-797539965275256374?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/797539965275256374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=797539965275256374&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/797539965275256374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/797539965275256374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/11/here-we-go-again.html' title='Here we go again'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-639727565673357509</id><published>2008-11-08T06:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T06:47:16.288-08:00</updated><title type='text'>First one (of most likely many)</title><content type='html'>This morning I made my first big housewife-y mistake. I completely ruined one of our pans. See, when we were looking for cookware Ray really wanted stainless steel. I've never cooked on it. So this morning when I went to scramble eggs. First, I forgot to coat the pan with anything. Second, I turned the temperature up to what I did with my cheap, kitchen-in-a-box pans, which is pretty high (because I like to "flash cook" my eggs). Well, they definitely flash cooked. Into ashes. So Ray's shouting (well, speaking forcefully, the boy never raises his voice  for anything) directions at me, ones that rational people would do automatically ("Take the pan off the eye, Anna! Turn off the heat, Anna! If the handle's hot, put the pan down, Anna!"), but for someone domestically challenged like me, my brain shut off and just watched the eggs sizzle into oblivion. The center of the pan looks like I rubbed coal all over the bottom. And now we get to use our last gift card to replace the pan. And I will never turn the stove dial to anything over number 5.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-639727565673357509?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/639727565673357509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=639727565673357509&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/639727565673357509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/639727565673357509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/11/first-one-of-most-likely-many.html' title='First one (of most likely many)'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-7145835181821079109</id><published>2008-11-08T06:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T06:38:20.934-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Get Moving</title><content type='html'>...is what I'm telling myself. I've been pretty good about keeping my stuff out of the floor, laundry done, etc., but this week I let things go. It's not bad for my standards, but Ray's freaking out (I can see that look in his eye that my stuff is grossing him out--and it's not even gross stuff, it's clothes on the floor). So today's the day I get to catch up on all my cleaning duties. Wish me luck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-7145835181821079109?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/7145835181821079109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=7145835181821079109&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/7145835181821079109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/7145835181821079109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/11/get-moving.html' title='Get Moving'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-7614593219193043709</id><published>2008-11-06T18:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T18:49:17.098-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boo!</title><content type='html'>My (slightly late) Halloween story&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All Hallows Eve. Halloween, the night when parents release their kids to neighborhoods dress in overpriced costumes supporting a commercialist society to gorge themselves on candy and be mischievous and get away with it. (Man, I’m such an old person.) No, really, I enjoy looking at most costumes. I remember dressing up when I was little and for the most part I had my sister’s hand-me-down costumes, but the ones that were my own, that Brooke never used, were my favorite. I went as a fifties girl in fourth grade (poodle skirt, scarf in my hair) and I loved it. I didn’t even get to go trick-or-treating that year because I got a cold, but I knew that I had the coolest costume that year in school. And one year, I think I was maybe three or four (this is one of my first memories), I was a witch, before I knew what witchcraft was. My dad and I went to a drugstore for some reason after school and a girl dressed as Pippi Longstocking with her hair in braids with wires in them made her hair stick straight up and screamed when she saw me like I scared her. I thought I was the best witch ever, it totally made my Halloween.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I was a cute witch. Parents, when you dress your children, especially the young ones, remember that they think the boogey man is scary. There’s absolutely no need to dress them like they came straight from the Chasms of Hell. Chances are that if they look in the mirror they’ll get so freaked out they’ll have reflection issues for the rest of their lives or they’ve been exposed to so many scary things in their wee little lives that they’re already screwed up and are going to be ripping the heads off Barbies and burning pictures of dead people to release their souls as they get older.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here’s another reason. Your child could very well cause wrecks because of his freakishness. I left work early on Halloween because traffic was rotten and I’m sitting at a light, waiting for it to turn green so I can turn left. As I’m turning, in the driver’s seat of a car waiting at the light, was this little person in red. How cute! I thought, a little Elmo, or maybe a fireman! So I slow down a little to get a closer look and I slowly begin to realize that no, it is not a sweet fireman or gentle Elmo, but a demon. A face-painted, scream-inducing scary little minion from the pits of the Abyss. Grinning like a vampire on feeding day. And as I’m coming to this slow, painful, nauseating revelation, I forget to finish turning my car. And as soon as my mind wraps its head around this awful creature and regains enough sense to look away, I look straight ahead to see my car heading right into an iron fence. So I swerve back into traffic, almost hitting the vehicle carrying the little imp. And with my tires squealing and steering wheel swinging, I look one time at the driver, the mother, Rosemary. She’s laughing her head off! At her precious child scaring the living daylights out of unsuspecting drivers on Briarcliff Road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here’s the moral of the story: don’t dress your child like something you’ve seen in horror movies because there are some people in the world who choose to keep hellish ideas out of their minds and sooner or later, you could get sued by the preacher’s kid who wrecks her car because she’s screaming the Lord’s Prayer after seeing your spawn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-7614593219193043709?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/7614593219193043709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=7614593219193043709&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/7614593219193043709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/7614593219193043709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/11/boo.html' title='Boo!'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-1133965005308144634</id><published>2008-11-04T16:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T16:32:36.235-08:00</updated><title type='text'>America, America...</title><content type='html'>It’s election day! Yay… There, I mentioned it like everyone else; can we move on and just elect a president/other government officials without lies, backbiting, and general crud surrounding politics in general?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No? Fine, we’ll just wait for the excitement/disappointment of this one to die down for about a week and then prepare for primary competitors for 2012 in December!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-1133965005308144634?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/1133965005308144634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=1133965005308144634&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/1133965005308144634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/1133965005308144634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/11/america-america.html' title='America, America...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-8366177350376761519</id><published>2008-11-04T16:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T16:31:34.686-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Did you miss me?</title><content type='html'>It’s been a long time. A really, really, long time, I know. I never really believed people who said that working got in the way of blogging, but when I leave at 6:30 in the morning and get home at 7, my three hours of free time before bedtime at 10 gets filled. Oh, my life sounds so cliché now. Cook dinner, straighten up (for those of you who know me, yes, I have been keeping my crap off the floor pretty well), do laundry, get lunch/clothes ready for the next day. Then I usually sit down for one tv something and off to bed. I’m officially an old fart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But never fear, dear ones and fives of readers (even though some of you are apparently in Canada, England and Australia!), I will try to post regularly. And since work has been a little slow lately, all of these will be written now and posted later, just so you don’t get one of my typical novelettes and then nothing for months. And since I’ll be unemployed in a week and a half (oh, the joys of internships) in between all my job hunting I’m sure I’ll find time to post. So this is it for today, but I promise, one tomorrow!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-8366177350376761519?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/8366177350376761519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=8366177350376761519&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8366177350376761519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8366177350376761519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/11/did-you-miss-me.html' title='Did you miss me?'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-2923583759540341338</id><published>2008-10-11T05:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T06:28:32.275-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally!!!</title><content type='html'>Well, I'm married. Yup, got hitched. Tied the knot. Like it's a big surprise to any of you who follow this thing regularly. But really, it was an absolutely fabulous day. No major snafus, gorgeous weather, tons of fun. Of course my dad and Ray had trouble holding back the tears at first and I had trouble holding back the giggles. Like when my dad said we'd been together a long time and I made a face and Brooke started laughing and the crowd saw her and joined right in. And when a sound like a squirrel falling out of a tree startled me and all the 'maids were stifling some laughter. Even our photographers heard that one. Speaking of photographers, &lt;a href="http://www.altmixphotography.com/"&gt;Kate and Matt Altmix&lt;/a&gt; were awesome! I barely noticed them during the ceremony and reception and I know the formal pictures will turn out great. Hire them for anything. It's worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let's tell my major disaster of the day. We were almost ready to go take some pics before the ceremony. All I had to do was put in my dress. So everyone surrounds me to help (which really wasn't necessary, because the dress wasn't that difficult and honestly, four sets of hands just made it harder) and I'm about to pull the straps up when my mom gasps and says, "Oh, my--" in a hushed, freaked out tone, and then follows that up with a reassuring but equally freaked out "It's okay..." Then Jenn goes, "Oh my gosh what IS that?!?!" And Brooke and Leslie start repeating, "It's okay, it's nothing, you'll be fine..." All the while I'm saying, "What the heck are you talking about?!" So I finally manuever myself where I can see the back of my dress because there's so much commotion and I see a brown spot right where the strap starts to narrow. In about three seconds, here's my train of thought-- &lt;em&gt;Oh, it's like a tag or something from the seamstress oh wait oh no! my dress is stained wait that's not a stain OH MY GOD IT'S A COCKROACH!!!!&lt;/em&gt; There was a COCKROACH! Crammed in between the sheer outer layer and inner layers of my dress! At this point I scream loudly enough for people to hear outside and proceed to jump--literally jump--out of my dress. Brooke and Jenn were in front of me so I grabbed their shoulders and heaved myself out of that thing. S0 while I'm trying not to cry because I hate hate HATE bugs of any kind (especially in a wedding dress) Jenn and Brooke are comforting me and Leslie and my mom are cracking up and trying to get the thing out from the layers because YES IT WAS STILL ALIVE! I think the best part of it, though, was Kate. She was just standing there with her camera at her chest and finger on the trigger but she looked like she was in shock, with her nose crinkled and her mouth hanging open. And in the middle of the whole ordeal, I just hear a small &lt;em&gt;click.&lt;/em&gt; Even in shock she managed to get a picture of &lt;em&gt;something.&lt;/em&gt; Ugghhghghalslasalsk. Shudder and gag. Blech.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But after all that the wedding was great. And then off to the honeymoon in Asheville, NC! We got a cabin up on a mountain about 20 minutes away from the city, but it felt like we were the only ones there. Beautiful view. Absolutely beautiful. And the city is so much fun. It's so eclectic. Lots to do, lots of museums and art galleries (great for me!). We ate out every night, had a different type of food every night and it was all amazing. We saw Biltmore, and I took the scenery and plant life as an opportunity to figure out how our new camera worked. So much fun, I want to be a landscape photographer now. And Ray even liked the house because of all the technology it had. And we rode around Asheville on Segways! It was soooo cool. If you ever get a chance to ride one of those things, take it. Other than the expense, I don't understand why these machines haven't taken cities by storm. No gas, can go 24 miles on one charge and easy-peasy to drive/steer. Just lean and go. And after Asheville we came home and started unpacking stuff for the kitchen, went back to my parents' house to get some more of my stuff (meaning all my clothes), dinner with the fams, and a little shopping at Target to use all our gift cards. Today I'm supposed to unload/unpack/reorganize all my stuff while Ray takes a very long bicycle ride, because messes freak him out a lot. So he'll want to help and end up annoying me because I make messes before I organize. So I'm kicking him out for a few hours. Oh, the first joys of married life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry, as soon as I get pictures uploaded I'll post some for you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-2923583759540341338?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/2923583759540341338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=2923583759540341338&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/2923583759540341338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/2923583759540341338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/10/finally.html' title='Finally!!!'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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-6138413451446847639.post-7825800041901671736</id><published>2008-10-01T16:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T16:50:09.511-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Halfway intellectual post with no mention of the W-word</title><content type='html'>I was reading &lt;a href="http://www.cnn.com/2008/TECH/biztech/10/01/volt.car.nascar/index.html"&gt;this article&lt;/a&gt; on CNN today and I thought it was interesting. Not the plug-in car or that NASCAR is considering it, but that this is such a weird position to be in for Chevy’s PR department. The Volt is a pretty cool thing—an all-electric car for a traditionally hyper-American brand that reveres gas-guzzling vehicles as a symbol of power.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Side note: Volt is a cool name for the first all-electric car. But what about when you make more? Are they all going to be electricity-related? The Shock, the Zap? Or do a tribute to Ben Franklin—Lightning, the Chevy Key. Oh, well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now they have a chance to reach out to a new, eco-conscious consumer set, with the risk of alienating uber-patriots who think the green movement is political mumbo-jumbo. But the fact that Chevy can market this as a vehicle to reduce dependence on foreign oil is a great opportunity to get people on board to the green movement without trying to change their political beliefs (which so far in any save-the-earth campaign hasn’t seemed possible). I think the notion that presenting the Volt as a patriotic car will turn off more environmentally friendly people is a little far-fetched. I mean, the car will reduce dependence on all oil and decrease pollution. Small tangent that is another post for another time, but making environmental issues political movement is a little ridiculous. We all live on the planet; we should all take care of it. Regardless of where you stand on global warming or going green or the like, reducing our impact on the planet and preserving it for the future is never a bad thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Chevy has the unique opportunity to create a wide-spanning campaign that can reach multiple sects of society. Or will they pick one—try to change its consumer base, leaving traditional customers to switch to its nemesis, or try to change its existing customer base’s mindset to make them actually care about the planet? I can’t wait to see the campaign for this car.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-7825800041901671736?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/7825800041901671736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=7825800041901671736&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/7825800041901671736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/7825800041901671736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/10/halfway-intellectual-post-with-no.html' title='Halfway intellectual post with no mention of the W-word'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-5537072622966518216</id><published>2008-09-30T17:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T18:41:09.572-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Almost there...</title><content type='html'>Wow. Four days away from being married. Agghhh! I don't really even have words to describe my feelings. Excited, anxious... hhhuuuuugggghhhhh. I've been filling my afternoons after work with random wedding details.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday: Went on a major shopping spree and bought every last thing we needed for the wedding. Pedestals for ceremony, bubbles, mints (both of which Brooke is hard at work tying fall-colored bows around as I type), baskets. Even though we were out for around eight hours, everything was fairly easy to find. After all the wedding event things, it was tie to find personal stuff. I still needed a shirt for the rehearsal, a dress to leave in and wedding shoes. I was freakin' worried I would leave the mall crying because I hadn't found anything to wear. But Jesus decided to show that he loved me through an easy shopping day. Fourth dress on, bought it. first shirt at the third store (and only a few at the others), bought it. And I found shoes, finally! I found a pair I liked, but they were the same silver of the ones I had. I was disappointed, but moved on. As I was walking around thinking, "Ohhhhh, nooooooo, they don't have &lt;em&gt;anything&lt;/em&gt;," and I saw a flash of ivory out of the corner of my eye. I zoom in and see a really cute pair of ivory shoes in a beat-up box on the clearance rack. "Oh please oh please oh please, wouldn't it be awesome if they were 10s..." I thought. And as I picked up the box, I saw the magic number. 10s!!!!! And they fit perfectly!!!! YAY! It was only the second pair of shoes I tried on all night!!!! Apparently great shoes deserve lots of exclamation marks!!!!! But anyway, they're actually the same shoes Brooke got, just a different color without sparkles. And after the shopping trip, I bought a few more last-minute items online. So I'm officially done with shopping for awhile. Still have to run a few errands that involve buying things (bridesmaid/parent gifts, etc.), but those don't count.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday: Tanning for the last time. Yeah, I got pinker this time than last. Not good. And the little things you put over your eyes for protection? Ummm, one slipped and I didn't realize it. I now have one raccoon eye. Who knows, maybe that could be attractive in pictures. And my legs &lt;em&gt;still&lt;/em&gt; didn't get tan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday: Legs waxed. Sort of. Apparently the hair wasn't long enough. Word to the wise. Beauty is &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; worth the pain. 'Nuff said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in the last few days until W-Day, I still have to design/print programs, run lots of errands, blah, blah, blah. Just think. In a few days, you might have something else to read about besides wedding crap. Don't worry, I have another post coming soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-5537072622966518216?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/5537072622966518216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=5537072622966518216&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/5537072622966518216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/5537072622966518216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/09/almost-there.html' title='Almost there...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-5342760991134477293</id><published>2008-09-26T18:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T19:07:52.727-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anyone want to help?</title><content type='html'>We're moving tomorrow! Aaaalllll my stuff into Ray's apartment. A U-haul  and an SUV full of stuff and more to come. It was amazing to see how much we've actually gotten from showers and such--gifts alone filled my mom's car! And I'm going to be up all night finishing laundry to pack my clothes and cleaning my room to pack everything else. So four of us, all of who have some kind of physical problems except me (but I'm a weakling) trying to move furniture and bakeware. Because apparently people think I like to bake. No pots, pans, but various bakeware sets and about 10 muffin pans. Now, just because you see me eating everyone else's baked goods, doesn't mean I like to bake. But I guess I have to learn because Ray doesn't bake. But he's super excited about the rice cooker. Whatever. Anyway, lots of good stuff to fill our apartment with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. We got our marriage license today! Drove all the way to midtown to get a Fulton license, and both of us got lost (I had to go from work). But it was cool, we had to do the whole swearing in thing, raising our right hands and promising we're not cousins or fugitives and everything. I wish there had been a Bible for the left hand. but nope, just the counter. The lady must have thought I was nuts. I was trying not to giggle through her schpiel. So I had a goofy grin on my face while Ray was super solemn because he does that kind if thing all the time (for work, not because he gets married a lot).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a thought: Does anyone else find it ironic that you get licenses for marriage and firearms in the same place?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-5342760991134477293?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/5342760991134477293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=5342760991134477293&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/5342760991134477293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/5342760991134477293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/09/anyone-want-to-help.html' title='Anyone want to help?'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-7532379069184059315</id><published>2008-09-24T17:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T17:31:07.782-07:00</updated><title type='text'>10 MORE DAYS!!!!!</title><content type='html'>Yup, that's it. 10 days until I have a hubby and I'm a wifey. EEK!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-7532379069184059315?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/7532379069184059315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=7532379069184059315&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/7532379069184059315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/7532379069184059315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/09/10-more-days.html' title='10 MORE DAYS!!!!!'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-3972367228140789838</id><published>2008-09-24T17:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T17:30:11.517-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Did you pass?</title><content type='html'>Today was National Punctuation Day. I should have posted something about it this morning so all you diligent grammar friends could remind everyone you met of this glorious occasion, but alas, I had to work and blogs are blocked from the network. Anyway, if I were a teacher, I would soooo celebrate this. My students would &lt;em&gt;love&lt;/em&gt; me for it. Regardless of what class I taught, I think a grammar test would have to appear. Besides, it's the only thing we learned in school that everybody is &lt;em&gt;supposed&lt;/em&gt; to use on a daily basis. Why not give a refresher quiz? So tomorrow whem the joyful feelings from the parties to honor our language have waned, don't forget to keep all those sacred grammar rules intact.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-3972367228140789838?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/3972367228140789838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=3972367228140789838&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3972367228140789838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3972367228140789838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/09/did-you-pass.html' title='Did you pass?'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-2854316540258886726</id><published>2008-09-24T17:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T17:23:39.985-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FAAAALLLLLL!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>Yes, it was Monday. Yes, I'm still celebrating. So you need to keep celebrating too. Go sniff the crisp morning air, eat a caramel apple, jump in a pile of leaves (do we have leaves like that in Georgia?), bake and make your house smell like cinnamon and apple pie. Just celebrate the weather, and hope it holds up for the next two weeks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-2854316540258886726?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/2854316540258886726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=2854316540258886726&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/2854316540258886726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/2854316540258886726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/09/faaaallllll.html' title='FAAAALLLLLL!!!!!!'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-3495757625943271113</id><published>2008-09-24T16:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T17:20:50.288-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Workin' woman</title><content type='html'>That's me. Who knew? Me, getting a job so quickly. I keep on telling myself, "It's only and internship, it's only an internship," but I really like going and being productive every day. The whole office setting is great. It might just be the place, but I like it. And I have my own office! That will soon be turned into storage, but whatever. I sit by myself surrounded by pinky-beige walls and a metal desk with fake wood covering. Not even particle board, but that sticker stuff that's supposed to look like wood. I keep wanting to bring pictures and stuff in to decorate, make it more homey, but "it's only an internship, it's only an internship." Every time my boss comes in she says, this place needs a coat of paint. Yup, probably, and some posters or something to keep it from looking like storage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the job is great. I've already done and seen so much. I've met with PR people and journalists, written a few press releases, done a walk-through for one event and will do another tomorrow, had a catering meeting, I can't even remember. And I know more is to come. It's actually the perfect job right now, because I've been doing a lot of wedding type stuff (*gasp* in event planning? Noooooo...), keeping up with guest lists, vendor meetings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of vendor meetings, I think I'm hooked on fancy food. Excuse me, gourmet fare. Like I said, we went to a tasting for one event, and I was pretty nervous at first. I've never really been in an environment that lent itself to fancy food, and every time I saw anything with words I didn't know I refused it. This caterer is actually a preferred caterer for Great Oaks, but the menu scared me so much, who did I pick? Williamson Brothers Barbeque. But Affairs to Remember was soooo yummy. I tried so much I've never eaten before-- lobster with corn chowder, risotto, squash (not gourmet, but I've never liked it), artichoke hearts... But it was wonderful. Ray's in a pickle now. He was hoping I'd never get a taste of the good life. Maybe I should start requesting lobster every night for dinner. Or maybe just beg for it on the honeymoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's the job so far. Go me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-3495757625943271113?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/3495757625943271113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=3495757625943271113&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3495757625943271113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3495757625943271113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/09/workin-woman.html' title='Workin&apos; woman'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-8040776159844134538</id><published>2008-09-23T17:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T18:04:56.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Pre-Wedding Weekend Post #3</title><content type='html'>This isn't &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; in the theme of the other posts, but I still thinks it's fun. I think I've mentioned before, but I think my grandparents are the greatest. Obviously, they let us all traipse in and out all weekend with very little notice. But on Friday, when I called and asked to come over Friday to get ready for the party and then leave my car there all night, Grandma said, "Sure, are you going to eat here?" I said I'd probably get a bowl of cereal or something. Imagine my surprise when I walk in their door into the kitchen and see a bowl of Cheetos, a plate of cheese, bananas, peaches, crackers, and my favorite snack ever--orange Jell-o and chocolate chip cookies. Sounds strange, but Grandma puts pulpy orange juice in the Jell-o and we crunch up the cookies in it and it's sooo tasty. So after being fed, we left. Saturday Grandma had&lt;em&gt; all&lt;/em&gt; her jewelry out on the guest bed for me to choose something to wear. And we finished off the Jell-o. Anyway, they are awesome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-8040776159844134538?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/8040776159844134538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=8040776159844134538&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8040776159844134538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8040776159844134538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/09/crazy-pre-wedding-weekend-post-3.html' title='Crazy Pre-Wedding Weekend Post #3'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-1682105021869037101</id><published>2008-09-23T17:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T17:51:51.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Pre-Wedding Weekend Post #2</title><content type='html'>After my wild night o' fun and getting to sleep at three a.m., I had to get up to go pick up my dress at the seamstress' at 9:30 an hour away. So on about four hours of sleep, I got to get fitted. Yup, still fits, and look beautiful, if I do say so myself. The seamstress was really great, she gave me the scraps for a scrapbook and even made a little card with the gown designer and a fabric swatch. Nice woman, if you ever need something tailored and are in the Marietta area, let me know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the entire weekend we used my grandparents' house as a launchpad because they're so close to everything. So after we left the seamstress we went to their house to drop the dress off. Then we went to the florist to finalize details. &lt;em&gt;Then&lt;/em&gt; we went back to the gps' house until my trial hair appointment. I was using my cousin Kiera's stylist, so she was with us. It was great. Marian did a great job the first time around, and we're using a pair of my great-grandmother's earrings in the 'do (it's my "old"). After that, Kiera and I went tanning. Since I've never been before, I needed a buddy. I'd been dreading it because I &lt;em&gt;hate&lt;/em&gt; laying out and I get hot and sweaty really easily. I was considering backing out until even the seamstress told me she's not an advocate of tanning beds but might change her mind in my case. Anyway, I am tanning now. Yay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt;, Kiera and I went back to the gps' house and did a trial run of makeup. No offense to her or anyone else who's tried my makeup, but I think I might just do it myself. By the way, can someone &lt;em&gt;please&lt;/em&gt; explain what having a face for makeup means? The hairstylist told me I had a face for makeup. Yeah, can't really see &lt;em&gt;any&lt;/em&gt; good out of&lt;em&gt; that&lt;/em&gt; statement. After dinner with the gps, I realized I'd had &lt;em&gt;very&lt;/em&gt; little sleep in the past few days, so I headed home in time to watch the UGA game. But I got about 10 minutes into the game before I conked out. Ahhh, sleep. From 8:15 to 7 :45 Sunday morning, I didn't move or hear a thing. My phone rang, and I didn't hear it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was my weekend. Hope you had as much fun as I did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-1682105021869037101?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/1682105021869037101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=1682105021869037101&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/1682105021869037101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/1682105021869037101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/09/crazy-pre-wedding-weekend-post-2.html' title='Crazy Pre-Wedding Weekend Post #2'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-3679739187904208626</id><published>2008-09-23T17:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T17:49:13.662-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Pre-wedding Weekend Post #1</title><content type='html'>First up on Friday--my bachelorette party! Woohoo! Just to start, I've never been into the typical pink sash and penis necklace that most bachelorettes get. But I figured I needed something to make me stand out, because who doesn't like lots of random attention? Apparently Brooke. Because for some reason, the headband I wore really embarassed her. Hmm. It just had a giant cardboard engagement ring and a veil attached. What's embarrassing about that? Just because I wore it everywhere and people gave me lots of funny looks doesn't mean you should duck for cover or blush like you're on fire. Oh well. Sorry, Brooke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, six of us went to play Whirlyball. It's the &lt;em&gt;coolest &lt;/em&gt;game that's basically jai-alai in bumper cars aiming at a basketball goal. AWESOME!!! It really was one of the most fun things I've ever done (either my life is really dull or everyone else needs to jump on the Whirlyball train--or bumper car--heehee). As long as you don't mind a few bruises (or lots) and a little soreness, I recommend it to anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Jenn had to leave us, because being the super-smart girl she is (no really, I wish I had her brain), she had to study for a med school test. Pretty important, so she gets a pass. So the remaining five of us went to Chili's for dinner. Pretty uneventful, but uber fun and relaxed, as Chili's usually is. I had a yummy drink, tasted like orange Kool-aid. See, my alcohol tolerance is &lt;em&gt;pretty&lt;/em&gt; low. So this one drink was a pretty big deal, in that I finished it and wasn't tipsy and was able to have another later. (Impressive for a bachelorette party, right? Two drinks. Livin' it up... congratulate me.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Chili's we went to a bar in Smyrna called Zucca (?) that a friend of Brooke's recommended for dancing. It went kind of slow at first, but group dances always bring people out on the floor. And I had my second drink of the night that Hannah said I just &lt;em&gt;had&lt;/em&gt; to try. An Amaretto sour. Definitely worth it. I absolutely love dancing with these friends. Hannah and Lindsey are dancing &lt;em&gt;fiends&lt;/em&gt;, and Beth is always up for a party. Brooke, not so much, but she got hit on all night, so she was occupied. Highlights of the night:&lt;br /&gt;-Lindsey getting hit on by an old man and a girl at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;-getting asked by an old Italian guy if he could give me a hickey for the wedding day. (In a thick Italian accent: "Oh, NOOOO! Do not &lt;em&gt;marry&lt;/em&gt; him! He soooo &lt;em&gt;ugly&lt;/em&gt;!!!! Marry MEEEEE! Can i give you hickey? To remember me? Oh, NOOOO!")&lt;br /&gt;-getting ice thrown at me by a guy whose drink I turned down at the beginning of the night. We were sitting there chatting and I feel someone tap my shoulder. I see this murky drink in my face and this drunk guy holding it. I refuse, he gets mad. "Whatever, I'm not tryin' anything, it's just a drink..." Brooke said it was rude to turn it down. May be rude, but 1. He didn't ask what I wanted (also rude), and 2. I didn't see it made. Yeah, &lt;em&gt;no&lt;/em&gt;. Not gonna take that one. Turns out it was a Jaeger bomb, and the whole mixing uppers and downers has never really worked for me. Well, apparently he got really offended because the entire night he was throwing ice at me or giving me drunk, droopy-eyed mean looks.&lt;br /&gt;-the random dude who walked by me at least three times and said "Happy birthday!" Oooo-kaaay, does this thing on my head really look like a generic party hat? Guess that was the beer talking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after some dancing we all parted ways. Soooo much fun, wish you all could have been there. Thanks Brooke!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Pictures will be posted later as soon as someone gives me some.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-3679739187904208626?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/3679739187904208626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=3679739187904208626&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3679739187904208626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3679739187904208626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/09/crazy-pre-wedding-weekend-post-1.html' title='Crazy Pre-wedding Weekend Post #1'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-5923590933990664311</id><published>2008-09-21T14:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T16:10:10.242-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A little alone time</title><content type='html'>Finally, down time. Sort of. I still have stuff to do, but at least I get to do it by myself. Parents out with friends, Brooke at church, me with some quiet time. I've gotten to the point where planning annoys me now. Things are late, people aren't coming that should, we have a &lt;em&gt;lot&lt;/em&gt; to find/buy (which is &lt;em&gt;always&lt;/em&gt; stressful) and I still have some beautifying to do. Since I started work this week, there has been a significant time crunch with lots to get done. But since there was &lt;em&gt;so&lt;/em&gt; much and we all know I always haveve so much to say about my exciting life, I'll have to break it down. More to come!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-5923590933990664311?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/5923590933990664311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=5923590933990664311&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/5923590933990664311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/5923590933990664311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/09/little-alone-time.html' title='A little alone time'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-4418985151163692517</id><published>2008-09-18T16:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T16:44:12.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A bad time...</title><content type='html'>for this whole, "job," "real world," "a big wedding is a great idea!" crap. More later when I have the time. Maybe Sunday? Until then...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;AAAAGGGGHHHH!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-4418985151163692517?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/4418985151163692517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=4418985151163692517&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/4418985151163692517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/4418985151163692517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/09/bad-time.html' title='A bad time...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-839336250810983308</id><published>2008-09-12T19:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T20:04:52.922-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Last one!</title><content type='html'>Wedding shower, that is. Tomorrow, in fact. Don't worry, it'll end before the game starts, and I'm wearing my black and white dress with the red heels and jewelry. Gotta represent with all my Tech fan relatives throwing the shower! But I do believe that this will be the first time that I've worn dress clothes in honor of the Dawgs. First and &lt;em&gt;last&lt;/em&gt;. Dresses for a &lt;em&gt;football&lt;/em&gt; game? But that's another post for another day. It's just weird to think that the wedding really is right around the corner after all these years of waiting. It's been awesome getting things we need from people we love. So many people talk about how much (ahem) crap people give for weddings, but everything we've gotten was off our registry or really great. I'll be honest, I had a &lt;em&gt;little &lt;/em&gt;trouble with the registry at first. I get that gifts are customary for weddings, but creating a list of things a guest should get me seemed greedy. But people seem to like it better and I'm loving all the stuff because now we won't have a hodge-podge of bachelor pad and college apartment junk. And I've kept up with thank you cards! Go me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Countdown: 22 Days!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-839336250810983308?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/839336250810983308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=839336250810983308&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/839336250810983308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/839336250810983308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/09/last-one.html' title='Last one!'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-8062246869201184085</id><published>2008-09-12T19:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T19:55:07.068-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tired and thankful</title><content type='html'>So, Ray got appendicitis and had to have surgery yesterday. I'm tired because I got very little sleep and thankful he's alright. His stomach had been hurting since Monday. He went to doctor on Wednesday because the pain shifted to the right, but doc sent him home basically to get worse because he wasn't showing "typical" appendicitis symptoms. So all day I was debating on whether to go to Ellijay in case Ray needed someone, and Ray kept telling me he was fine. At 7 pm I packed a bag just in case; Ray said he was good. At 8:45, I went to get milk for my mom; Ray said his roommate was available if he got worse. At 9:45 he called and said he needed to go to the hospital. About time, dontcha think? Anyway, I got to Ellijay at 11:30, got to watch Ray get loopy on Demoral (ask me about &lt;em&gt;those&lt;/em&gt; stories sometime), and basically stayed up all night until his surgery at 9:30 Thursday morning. We brought him home last night, and he's resting now, perfectly fine. And I got some sleep, finally. My badge picture for work looks awesome because I was so tired from the day before. The nurses were kidding with him about trying to get out of the wedding. No chance. Three week recovery, three weeks til the wedding. Mm-hmm. His nurse was this crotchety old lady who looked and talked like she'd been smoking and tanning since she learned how to walk. She was really tough on him, not letting him ease into doing anything, and every time she left the room, Ray would slur out how much he didn't like her. So now he has to rest. And he'll be bored out of his mind. But he's okay. Pray that his recovery is quick!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-8062246869201184085?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/8062246869201184085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=8062246869201184085&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8062246869201184085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8062246869201184085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/09/tired-and-thankful.html' title='Tired and thankful'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-723009624519441742</id><published>2008-09-12T19:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T19:52:14.765-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Drumroll please...</title><content type='html'>I picked a job! I decided to take the internship with the Marcus Institute. Well, Fernbank hasn't actually called me back yet, but I made the choice anyway. See, while I was in the second interview at Fernbank, I discovered that the job would be Tuesday through &lt;em&gt;Saturday&lt;/em&gt;, and I panicked a little. When will I see friends, family? What about weekends to run errands with Ray? So as I was weighing my options (with anyone and everyone willing to pretend to listen) that kept coming up. Ray, in his usual thoughtful way, asked me, "Anna, even though you like the Fernbank job, even if it's a salary, not hourly pay, even though the people are nice, if the internship were a Tuesday through Saturday job, would you do it?" Well, the answer was yes. Plus, I felt really comfortable in the office and with the people, and it just seemed like there was a reason the supervisor would pick me over other candidates even though I have to take a week off right before their biggest event of the year to get married. Seemed like a God thing, so here I am. Working with the Marcus Institute of Children's Healthcare of Atlanta doing event planning for two months. Thankfully I have a future hubby who didn't care (much) about pay and really wanted me to do something I enjoyed for something I truly care about. Ray joked today about how I fulfilled my life timeline after all, albiet in a crunched time period. Degree, job, marriage. From ten or so years to three months. Wow. Hopefully it will lead to something permanent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it had &lt;em&gt;better&lt;/em&gt;! I have been through the ringer for these people! An hour-long online application, two phone screens, an interview, a background check, drug screen &lt;em&gt;and&lt;/em&gt; a physical, and I have orientation next week. I had to get a tetanus shot, a hepatitis B vaccine (with two follow-ups later), a TB test (with another follow-up), and a blood test for chicken pox immunity. My arms are a teensy sore. So anyway, as of Monday, I join the rest of suburban Atlanta in the 1.5-hour crawl to and from the city. Yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-723009624519441742?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/723009624519441742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=723009624519441742&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/723009624519441742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/723009624519441742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/09/whew-long-post-for-my-long-week.html' title='Drumroll please...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-5005195769626263747</id><published>2008-09-09T06:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T06:54:13.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pun-ny person</title><content type='html'>I tend to make lots of bad jokes and puns. Most of you know to laugh or smile and nod, thinking, &lt;em&gt;this is such an endearing trait of Anna's, she's such a cool person&lt;/em&gt;. At least I hope you think that. (Don't tell me if you believe otherwise...ignorance is bliss.) But sometimes they just slip out without me knowing at some &lt;em&gt;fairly&lt;/em&gt; inopportune times. I can't help it, I laugh a lot, and no one else gets my unintentioned wit. Like, um, at my &lt;em&gt;job&lt;/em&gt; interview yesterday?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was asked to pick a musician whose shoes I'd like to walk in for a day, and after thinking about what a strange question that was for a&lt;em&gt; science&lt;/em&gt; museum director to ask, I picked Beethoven because I love classical music and his inspiring story struck a chord with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let that one sink in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beethoven. Classical music. &lt;em&gt;Struck a chord.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a JOB INTERVIEW!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My interviewer had this bewildered look on her face, like "maybe someone who tries that hard and fails so miserably to make a VP of development laugh should. not. be hired." She chuckled politely, kept taking her notes, while I felt all the heat in my body zoom to my face to make me look like an American flag with the blue shirt I was wearing. I was eternally grateful she never really looked up from her page, because after that pun, I doubt she'd expect to see Old Glory flying in the interviewee seat of her office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But hopefully, she has a sense of humor. Maybe not my sense of humor, because that takes a special person (&lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; "don't eat the paste" special*, a "unique, God made her that way because He loves her" special), but one that can see through nervous puns to the awesomeness underneath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*Gilmore Girls fans (a.k.a. Brooke) who read this blog, that was for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-5005195769626263747?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/5005195769626263747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=5005195769626263747&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/5005195769626263747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/5005195769626263747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/09/pun-ny-person.html' title='Pun-ny person'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-6886562397057820507</id><published>2008-09-09T06:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T06:36:59.784-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spellcheck, Anyone?</title><content type='html'>For those of you who don't know, I'm kind of a grammar and spelling nerd. I absolutely love them, so much that one of my favorite books is a &lt;a href="http://eatsshootsandleaves.com/"&gt;grammar book &lt;/a&gt;(but a NY Times best-seller, not a textbook) and when I came to college I actually missed entering spelling bees every year. So I tend to get really peeved when people mess them up. Grammar's sort of understandable, because if you think about it too much, the English language makes absolutely no sense. Learn the basics and I'll forgive you for screwing the technical stuff up. And spelling is part of that nonsensical English.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT! There is a thing called a dictionary. For the ones who are glued to their computer screens/iPhones/Blackberries, there is a site called &lt;a href="http://www.dictionary.com/"&gt;dictionary.com&lt;/a&gt;. They're both simple ways to learn how to spell some oft-tricky words. but there are some words that people just, apparently, think are spelled one way because many others misspell them all the time, making it seem like the correct spelling. Or Spellcheck changes it for you, so you don't know you got it wrong, and when you use it somewhere else that doesn't have the magic dictionary it looks dumb. So I get really ticked off when people misspell two words (well, lots of words, but these especially): &lt;em&gt;desperate&lt;/em&gt; and &lt;em&gt;definitely&lt;/em&gt;. Why do people think an extra &lt;em&gt;a&lt;/em&gt; should make an appearance in either of these words? Des&lt;em&gt;par&lt;/em&gt;ate, defi&lt;em&gt;nat&lt;/em&gt;ely. It just looks wrong. Can't you, O misguided, dictionary-lacking person, see that? Nope, apparently not. You just go on your merry little way, thinking you should have made it past the second round in your fourth grade spelling bee because you're &lt;em&gt;still &lt;/em&gt;convinced the word &lt;em&gt;dolphin&lt;/em&gt; has two ls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there a list of the most commonly misspelled words? That doesn't include homonyms and the like (stationery/stationary, their/there/they're, etc.), but words that people just can't get right? I &lt;em&gt;desperately&lt;/em&gt; think those should &lt;em&gt;definitely&lt;/em&gt; be on the top of the list. So please, if you think you make these innocent mistakes, fix it. For the love of our bizarre English language, at least get these words right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-6886562397057820507?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/6886562397057820507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=6886562397057820507&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/6886562397057820507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/6886562397057820507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/09/spellcheck-anyone.html' title='Spellcheck, Anyone?'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-7117280249125909560</id><published>2008-09-05T20:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T21:05:13.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day o' Shopping</title><content type='html'>Whew! I don't think I've shopped that long or so purposefully in a looonnnngggg time. I entered my first store at 1 p.m and left the last at 10:30. Okay, so there was a little driving and dinner in between, but altogether (is that a word?) it was probably six to seven hours. And it was not fun. Waaay too much to look for in one day. Just today, I was looking for:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- dresses (one for the rehearsal dinner and another to leave the wedding in--lame, yes. Necessary, of course.)&lt;br /&gt;- an assortment of wedding day attire, mainly shoes (because I'm taking my dress to be altered tomorrow and I just yesterday got the bright idea to check to see of the shoes I already had matched my dress. They don't.)&lt;br /&gt;- another outfit/suit for my interview because I'm really paranoid they'd notice the same one&lt;br /&gt;- jewelry and shoes for my shower this weekend because I wanted to wear my new brown dress and I (of course) didn;t have any brown shoes that matched.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So basically every department of every store in the mall got to see my shining face today. Because running around like a madwoman tends to make me hot and sweaty and we'll just say I was "glistening" by the end of the night. But, Ray was coming to town from Ellijay and met me at the mall. When he's in a good mood, he's actually a pretty good shopping buddy. Who doesn't want to hear constantly how beautiful they are even when clothes don't fit? (Sorry for the cheese, but I got a good one!) &lt;em&gt;And&lt;/em&gt; I managed to pick up some things on my list, and a few extras that I "needed". You, know, the stuff that you always say, "I should get that," and never do? Like, a new wallet and brown pumps? Besides, I've been talking about needing a wallet for awhile and every time something comes up I need new shoes. I just knew I'd need brown work shoes eventually, so why not now when JC Penney's is having a sale? But the only thing I didn't get were wedding shoes. First of all, it's impossible to find ivory shoes, and second, do shoe designers think that everyone who wants ivory shoes needs to add four inches to the bottom of her feet? I really think one day I might open a shoe store for girls with short, wide feet with tall arches and the need to stay close to the ground instead of weebling on five-inch spikes. So anyway, we're just going to take the shoes I have and then every pair I try on we're going to measure the heel to make sure it's around two inches (in case you wanted to know).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough if my shopping soliloquy. Off to bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-7117280249125909560?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/7117280249125909560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=7117280249125909560&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/7117280249125909560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/7117280249125909560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/09/day-o-shopping.html' title='Day o&apos; Shopping'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-8968500919006418871</id><published>2008-09-04T08:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T08:39:52.188-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Freaking out</title><content type='html'>For those of you who have already heard me rambling about this, sorry. For those of you who haven't, oh. my. goodness. I got a call back from the interview I had yesterday. I just scheduled a meeting with the Vice President of Development at a museum. A BIG museum. After all this time, I now really might have to make a choice. Granted, it depends on how well the second interview goes, but still. Options? Choices? I figured I'd take the first job that came to me and thank my lucky stars someone didn't care how little experience I have. But two came at the same time. Hmmm. Good problem to have, but which to pick? Hourly-waged internship for two months doing something that would be really fun for an organization I really care about without the guarantee of a full-time position later, or full-time, salaried position for a cool museum doing lots of different things that, while not something I dreamed of doing, would also be really fun? (That was a really long sentence...sorry. I ramble without punctuation.) Ray keeps telling mt to follow my heart. Thanks Ray. Big help from my hubby-to-be. (But really, he wants me to be happy.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I have a little time to think. Lots actually. But now I'm off to something that keeps my mind of problems...shopping!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-8968500919006418871?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/8968500919006418871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=8968500919006418871&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8968500919006418871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/8968500919006418871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/09/freaking-out.html' title='Freaking out'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-2556252927583324570</id><published>2008-09-04T06:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T06:37:25.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Have I ever told you...</title><content type='html'>How awesome Google Analytics really is? Or maybe it's just the random things that pop up. In the past few days, I've had people from Indiana, New York, Texas and California (by the way, I need &lt;em&gt;serious&lt;/em&gt; geography lessons--I thought Indiana was Ohio) visit my blog. I've had a few people come directly to the site (which is probably just my friends adding me to favorites or something?). And a select few found my blog searching for... (are you ready?)... "ihop ellijay," "ellijay ihop," "chick-fil-a coming to ellijay," and "80s fashion weddings." I get that I said a redeeming quality of Ellijay is the fact that it's getting an Ihop and a Chick-fil-A (survival restaurants, people), but why is someone searching blogs? Will corporate location finders not do the job well enough? Did you need to get some local's opinion on the situation? Maybe someone is being transferred from Texas or Indiana or (I feel really sorry for them if this is the case) New York and they thought, "Man, what am I going to do in &lt;em&gt;Ellijay&lt;/em&gt;? WAIT! Maybe they have an &lt;em&gt;Ihop&lt;/em&gt;! That'll make it all better!" (Ahhh, kindred spirit... spirits, actually, because two people searched for this.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for anyone wanting an 80s fashion &lt;em&gt;wedding&lt;/em&gt;, DO. NOT. DO IT. &lt;em&gt;Bad idea&lt;/em&gt;. You may love 80s parties and think the music is rockin' and people may even tell you that you look like Debbie Gibson and your fiance looks like he could be in NKOTB (before they got old), but you. will. &lt;em&gt;regret&lt;/em&gt; it. Your children probably will too. Blue eyeshadow and that side ponytail never look as good in pictures. And you'll probably end up on 1. America's Funniest Home Videos (because something disastrously funny always seems to happen at theme weddings), 2. Wedding Dos and Don'ts on E!, or 3. What not to Wear. Ten years after your blessed event, someone on tv &lt;em&gt;will&lt;/em&gt; make fun of you. Lots.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-2556252927583324570?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/2556252927583324570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=2556252927583324570&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/2556252927583324570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/2556252927583324570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/09/have-i-ever-told-you.html' title='Have I ever told you...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-7562403265051051316</id><published>2008-09-04T06:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T06:19:23.436-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ONE MONTH TO GO!!!</title><content type='html'>Yup, that's it. September 4 to October 4. WHOA!!! I'm actually getting excited again. For awhile there I was pretty down, kinda over the whole planning thing because it was getting boring/frustrating. BUT I found two things that keep me going: Take frequent peeks at my dress, and check out the website/blog for our honeymoon cabin rental every so often. Just to keep things in perspective.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-7562403265051051316?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/7562403265051051316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=7562403265051051316&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/7562403265051051316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/7562403265051051316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/09/one-month-to-go.html' title='ONE MONTH TO GO!!!'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138413451446847639.post-3688873000142636958</id><published>2008-09-02T10:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T10:24:18.337-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just call me Sneezy!</title><content type='html'>So I have allergies. Indoor allergies, mostly. Cats, dogs, dust. But I love cats, dogs. Not so much dust. And since I got home, they just wouldn't stop bothering me. Sneezing, runny eyes, the whole bit. I finally caved and took some Claritin. And it was great! (Insert choir Ahh-ing majestically here) I could breathe! And see. But last night I took Zyrtec to see if it worked any better. Well, maybe, but it knocked me out. I slept for 10 and 1/2 hours and still had to force myself out of bed. I'm still groggy. So I got to thinking that basically my body is going to adjust to living on Claritin and even after the wedding I'm going to have to take it everyday to keep myself living normally. I didn't take it for a few hours and I thought my sinuses were going to swell shut. Not something I'd like to deal with. Any suggestions on how to get rid of all this? Ugh. Sneeze. Bless me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6138413451446847639-3688873000142636958?l=anna23638.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/feeds/3688873000142636958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6138413451446847639&amp;postID=3688873000142636958&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3688873000142636958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6138413451446847639/posts/default/3688873000142636958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anna23638.blogspot.com/2008/09/just-call-me-sneezy.html' title='Just call me Sneezy!'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09536968068467465072</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>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
